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In an effort to offer more content on this website, I will be offering my weekly column from The Metro every Wednesday, one day after it appears in the newspaper. I've been writing the column for two-and-a-half years now, and I am proud of its honesty and its take-no-prisoners approach. In many ways, the column has become a written version of my long-running radio show. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. July 7, 2010 Ruben Amaro Jr. has a chance to win two awards in his first two years as Phillies GM. He was executive rookie of the year in baseball last season, and he’s got a great chance to be executioner of the year in 2010. In other words, he is killing the Phillies right now. And it is death by neglect. The man who waited so long to run a baseball team is not running his baseball team. Instead, he is sitting on his well-manicured hands and waiting for a medical miracle. Well, there will be no medical miracle. Chase Utley is gone for two months, Placido Polanco for one month, Carlos Ruiz for two weeks and J.A. Happ for . . . who knows? This is when a good GM reacts to unforeseen conditions with bold decisiveness. This is when Theo Epstein of the Red Sox acquires a catcher, Kevin Cash, the same night he loses Jason Varitek. This is when even the lowly Seattle Mariners find a No. 3 hitter, Russell Branyan, in the Cleveland scrap heap. This is definitely not the time for Amaro to trot out the same tired old clichés about not panicking, waiting for the right deal, blah, blah, blah. If there is one thing Amaro has taught us, waiting for the right deal is not always a great idea anyway. He waited six weeks after the 2009 season for the Cliff Lee trade to come together, and how did that work out? Sometimes, it’s not who you got to help your team, but when you got him, that matters the most. The Phillies are in crisis right now, and they have been there for over a month. They have lost Jimmy Rollins, Brad Lidge, Joe Blanton, Ryan Madson, J.C. Romero, Happ and now Utley and Polanco all for extended periods. There’s a very good chance all of those injuries are a sign that 2010 is not their year, and no single move is going to change that fate. But to sit idly by and do nothing is unacceptable, especially after Amaro started the downward spiral himself with that massive Lee brain cramp. In fact, I suggested to Amaro recently that he had created a bad karma with the Lee deal, and he didn’t punch me in the mouth. (OK, it was a phone interview, but still . . . . ) “I believe in karma,” he said. “If we continue to have problems, I should be held accountable. . . . But I’d make the same deal now.” If that’s really true, here’s a great way for Amaro to start his next excursion into the trade market. He should call the Mariners back and offer them Phillippe Aumont, Tyson Gillies and J. C. Ramirez for Cliff Lee. If nothing else, it would show the baseball world that our GM has a hearty sense of humor. The issue now, however, is not what Amaro has done but what he plans to do. We don’t need him staying the course in this season of frustration. We need him to do his job. We need him to make a major move now – this minute – to help the Phillies. ---------- After 10 days of powerful revelations and alarming developments, the latest Michael Vick crisis comes down to this: Is he telling the truth? I must admit I had to stifle a chuckle when I wrote those words because Vick and the truth have been strangers pretty much his entire life. His false bravado, his scandalous behavior, his lame cover-up and his bogus comeback have all defined him as an incurable phony. And now he’s either been telling the truth about his involvement in a shooting last month, or he’s gone from the Eagles. That’s why, when he finally issued a statement through his lawyers late last week, he emphasized that he had been open and honest in his dealings with the police, the NFL and the Eagles. OK, fine. Then maybe he could address a few questions that have arisen:
My guess is, he won’t be able to answer those questions honestly. And that’s why – if we’re lucky – we’ve seen the last of this outrageous man. ---------- The shallow world of professional golf was exposed in a whole new and embarrassing way last week right here in Newtown Square, Pa., at the AT&T National at Aronomink Golf Club. It is with great sadness that I must admit our own fans contributed mightily to the sorry situation. This just in, folks: Tiger Woods is not a hero anymore. He destroyed his reputation by leading a double life as a lounge lizard. Conservative estimates have him sleeping with a dozen different women of dubious repute only because he thought the rules of a civilized society didn’t apply to him. But then he got caught, resulting in . . . . well, if you haven’t heard the story by now, you must have been in a coma for the past seven months. And judging from the adoring reception Woods got here last week, there has been an epidemic of comas in the golfing population. In the world where I reside, a sports hero who destroys his family and is unmasked as a total fraud is not worthy of standing ovations and fawning affection. In my world, a sports hero has to do more than perform well on the field of play; he also needs to use his stature to inspire, to set a positive tone. One of the biggest reasons Tiger Woods became a reckless sex addict was that people all around him, for years, told him he was better than everybody else in everything, not just golf. Well, he wasn’t. Our own clueless golf fans did exactly what they should not have done last week. They enabled him again. ---------- Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi June 29, 2010 If you’re looking for objective commentary on sports, this is not the place to stop today. All I really have for you is emotion this time, a rage that requires me to offer this disclaimer before I even begin. In the early hours of last Friday, a shooting took place outside the club where Michael Vick had been celebrating his 30th birthday in Virginia Beach, Va. The only serious injury was to the reputation of a player who had already just been voted the most disliked person in American sports. Vick reportedly was not present at the time of the shooting. We can only pray that he will also not be present when Eagles training camp opens next month. At this point, both the NFL and the Eagles are investigating the incident. Since the dispute that led to the violence apparently started between Vick and his former dog-fighting partner, Quanis Phillips, the critical issue now is whether the quarterback violated the strict terms of his probation and the “extremely limited” margin for error cited by the NFL. In both cases, he was told not to renew acquaintances with his unseemly friends. Well, here’s one voice screaming for his banishment from the game again – or at least his departure from Philadelphia. I loathed his bravado when he played in Atlanta, I despised his acts of merciless savagery against dogs, and I never for a second believed his words of contrition last season. Andy Reid acknowledged last week for the first time that his urge to rehabilitate Vick began when the Eagles coach was dealing with the drug problems of his own sons three years ago. What Reid never has understood is that while he was trying to save a soul, he was losing fans – thousands of them – because we will never root for Michael Vick. By all accounts, the Eagles are hoping to improve their image in a city that has transferred much of its adulation to the Phillies over the past few years, but they refuse to pay the price we demand. They refuse to admit their own glaring mistakes – whether it was the heartless farewell of Brian Dawkins or the nauseating addition of Michael Vick. They refuse to embrace the fact that the Eagles are owned by the fans, not by them. When Vick won the “most disliked” voting conducted by Forbes Magazine earlier this month, I rejoiced because of the vindication it brought to his many naysayers. When Vick got into trouble again last weekend, I was overjoyed because it could lead to his banishment again. My greatest jubilation is being reserved for the day Vick takes his sorry act and his leaves Philadelphia for good. Second chances, you say? Go tell that to all the dogs who never got one from Michael Vick. ---------- Evan Turner was still weeks away from the NBA draft, but already he had one major concern about his presumed new basketball home in Philadelphia: Where could he find a 24-hour gym? St. Joe’s coach Phil Martelli told that story on my WIP radio show the other day, and it really said all we needed to know about the newest Sixer. He is exactly the kind of player this city loves, a tireless worker committed to greatness. It’s why he is the reigning NCAA player of the year, and why he will be the best player coming out of the NBA draft this year. How can I be so sure? Well, first of all, I talked to him myself. He is smart, committed and genuinely respectful of his talent. That last quality is the most important one for an athlete at his age. Once players achieve financial independence, they have a pivotal choice to make – counting their money like Samuel Dalembert or seeking even greater rewards like Roy Halladay. Evan Turner is a young Roy Halladay. He is obsessed with success. Within hours of his selection by the Sixers, he could reel off without hesitation how his skills blend with his new partner in the backcourt, Jrue Holiday. Yes, lots of new draft picks can spout the necessary hoop-speak with the TV lights glaring in their faces, but Turner had already done the actual research to lend weight to his words. Plus, he already had a membership at that 24-hour gym. ---------- Jimmy Rollins was the most valuable player in the National League in 2007. After the past month or so, he could make a pretty good argument that he is the most valuable player every year, at least on the Phillies. It’s easy to roll out numbers proving he is not a great leadoff hitter – I know; I’ve done it here several times – but Rollins’ contribution supersedes statistics. We all saw that in the past few days as he revived the Phillies as much with his flamboyant attitude as with his bat and glove. Of course, his biggest moment came last Wednesday night, when he hit his first walk-off homer in a win over the Cleveland Indians. Some players melt under the glare of the spotlight. Other players, like Jimmy Rollins, revel in it. What made that home run even more special was the comment Rollins had made on the MLB Network two nights before the hit, when he said he was obsessed as a kid with the final scene from the classic baseball movie, The Natural. He described how annoyed his mother became when he kept playing the climactic scene when Robert Redford hits a home run into the light towers, triggering a spectacular explosion of sparks and embers. Late last Wednesday night, Jimmy Rollins announced his return with a flourish worthy of Hollywood. Welcome back, Jimmy. ---------- Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi May 26, 2010 The Flyers are no longer playing just for their first Stanley Cup in 35 years. They are seeking something even bigger now, the final chapter of a story like none in sports history. If the past 21 years on the radio has proven anything to me, it is the unique nature of hockey in our city. It is a sport with an intensely loyal core, then another layer of casual fans and then a vast majority who react with a shrug or outright disdain. Hockey is Canada’s sport first, played on ice, contested by foreigners. But not this year – and certainly not right now. What is happening in Philadelphia is more than just the story of a team defying convention; it is the kind of high drama that transcends sports itself. This is no longer about athletes or games. This is about the nature of people, the determination to succeed regardless of the cost, in a city that has no tolerance for failure. During a shift for the ages in the first period Monday night, Mike Richards personified that fierce will to win in a way that renders words inadequate. He charged up and down the ice, administering stunning checks and displaying dazzling stick work before ending his spree with a sprawling goal that tied the score and triggered one final rally in a series-clinching win. Those who witnessed it are already calling it one of the most amazing minutes ever in hockey. And this comes after the amazing shootout victory that saved the season against the Rangers, the amazing upset of the Devils in the first round, the amazing rally from 0-3 twice in the second round against the Bruins and the amazing three-shutout performance of goalie Michael Leighton in the third round to defeat Montreal. In short, the word amazing is as overworked right now as defenseman Chris Pronger, who is averaging close to half an hour of ice time in every playoff game. And now Richards’ goal Monday night has become the new benchmark of this astonishing post-season, similar to the Matt Stairs home run two years ago that set into motion our first championship parade in a quarter-century. There is no logical reason to believe that these Flyers will finish their story the way those Phillies did – not against a Chicago Black Hawks team that accumulated 24 more points in the tougher Western Conference. The Black Hawks are more talented, more balanced, have better goaltending, have a deeper bench and win virtually every position-by-position matchup. Except one. There is no statistic for intestinal fortitude, for the heart that makes Richards stay on the ice for one more assault on the net. There is no stat for a player like Ian Laperierre, who was back diving into the path of slapshots two weeks after sustaining a brain contusion that had him worried about living a normal life. There is no number to reflect the uncanny ability coach Peter Laviolette has to make the right decisions for a group of players he joined only five months ago. This is a team for the ages, if they can win four more games. This is a team that has made the apathetic care, made the clueless knowledgeable and made the cynics believe. We are all one happy ending away from the greatest sports story of our lives. -------- That crunching sound you hear is fans and media people walking on eggshells again because Phillies manager Charlie Manuel has done something incredibly stupid and reckless. Is it ever going to be OK to criticize our beloved manager? This time Manuel thought it was a great idea to stretch ace Roy Halladay to 132 pitches – one less than his all-time high – last week in a game the Phils were losing. The manager wouldn’t admit the decision to leave Halladay in beyond the seventh inning – and especially for the last batter in the top of the ninth – was ridiculous, but he did suggest he wouldn’t be doing it again anytime soon. Well, thanks for nothing. Halladay is 33 and has never pitched in the post-season. If everything goes according to plan, he will get that chance in four months, at which point his valuable right arm will be tested as it has never been tested before. Is there any logical reason to add any unnecessary risks now, with a comfortable division lead and with an otherwise questionable pitching staff? Of course there isn’t. But to hear any strong criticism of Manuel over the past week, you had one option – my radio show. Even after Halladay got shelled by the Red Sox five days later, there was still not even a polite suggestion that Manuel had been wrong. The 2008 championship has given Manuel a lifetime pass in the toughest sports city in America. Sorry, but I’ll save my next love letter for his second parade. Until then, if Charlie Manuel does something dumb, that ring on his finger is not going to silence the criticism he so richly deserves. -------- The Sixers just had a very good week, if finishing second is your idea of success. They moved up to second in the NBA draft, and they picked the second-best candidate for their head-coaching job, Doug Collins. Hey, after a year of Eddie Jordan, at least our basketball team is finally moving in the right direction. The No. 2 pick should become Evan Turner of Ohio State, a skilled athlete who – fittingly enough – should serve as the starting two-guard next season. And if Collins can scrape away seven years of rust, he should be able to develop the young team into a respectable unit. As always, of course, there are concerns. First is the absurd month-plus hunt that preceded the hiring of Collins, conducted by a man, GM Ed Stefanski, who still could be fired at any time. If the idea was to re-establish some faith in Stefanski, this hire did not accomplish that. Collins was a safe choice – though it should be pointed out that he hasn’t coached a winning team in 13 years – but Avery Johnson was a far bolder and more exciting option. And second, is there any reason to believe that a top pick or a good coach is going to turn around a franchise run by men who have no track record for success in basketball? It was fitting that chairman Ed Snider first discussed the Collins hire while cheering on his beloved Flyers in Montreal. As long as Snider and president Peter Luukko are overseeing the Sixers, they will always be second-best in their own sports family. -------- Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi May 18, 2010 How do we explain to our kids what just happened? How do we find the right words to make them understand the exquisite nature of this moment for the Flyers, and for our city? How do we express the joy of having a sports team that simply will not quit? What the Flyers did over the past month does not happen in professional sports. No team had ever qualified for the playoffs by winning a shootout on the last day of the season. Only three teams in the history of sports in North America had come back from a three-game series deficit, and none of those were trailing by three goals on the road in game 7. There is no historical perspective for this. And there is no reasonable way to describe the unflappable leadership of coach Peter Laviolette, who reacted to the 3-0 avalanche in game 7 by calling time out, pointing up to the scoreboard, and exclaiming: “Just one goal.” They got that goal, and then another, and then another. Finally, it was left to the man with the magic hands and the battered feet, Simon Gagne, to score the game-winning goal with seven minutes left. He can barely walk in the aftermath of foot surgery two months ago, but obviously he can skate very well, thank you. He had already saved the season once in game 4 with an overtime goal. He is a sports hero, now and forever. Chris Pronger, at 35, has been on the ice for half of every playoff game, where he provides the kind of calm leadership every champion must have. Mike Richards is the Chase Utley of the Flyers, measured in front of the cameras, relentless on the ice. Danny Briere looks like he’s graduating from high school next week, but he’s a grown man in the biggest moments. It cannot be a coincidence that HBO released a documentary recently called Broad Street Bullies that chronicles the magical two-season journey of our only hockey champions. The essence of their success, the film shows, was not the dexterity of their players or even the ferocity of their fights. It was something underneath all of that. It was heart. There is no way to know yet if this team is a true offspring of that one. The odds are very much against it. Even amazing runs like this one don’t necessarily end with two million fans clogging Center City to celebrate the ultimate success. Of course, who’s going to bet against these Flyers after what we just witnessed? And that’s the lesson for all our kids. Sometimes things happen in sports that defy explanation. It’s why we are all sports fans. And, if our children have been watching these astonishing Flyers, it’s why they will be sports fans for the rest of their lives. ---------- The Phillies are cheaters. There is no reason for us to debate this issue anymore because the video proof is overwhelming. Bullpen coach Mick Billmeyer was caught peering through binoculars in Colorado last week, his gaze trained on home plate. And no, the coach was not studying the defensive work of catcher Carlos Ruiz, as he explained. You see, our team was batting when he got caught. I have no problem at all with the Phillies trying to gain a competitive advantage. In fact, I insist on it. The problem here is one of style, not philosophy. In this digital age, how stupid is it to bring binoculars into the bullpen and peer in for signs? The Phillies may be the best team in the National League, but they are clearly among the worst at cheating. And what happened after a Rockies TV crew, at the suggestion of the team, caught Billmeyer was far more interesting than the act itself. First, Charlie Manuel advised all of his critics to “stop crying,” implying that he would sit by and say nothing if he were the victim of such clumsy chicanery. And second, the manager then decided to slam the Mets, whom he suggested must be cheating because they have such a good home record. Commissioner Bud Selig ultimately won the battle of stupid comments by saying that sign stealing is a part of baseball lore. Well, that should put a stop to it, no? In the end, the lesson here is simple. We have no problem with the Phillies cheating, and apparently neither does the commissioner. We just want them to get a lot better at it. ---------- Everyone knows exactly how DeSean Jackson feels about the last days of Donovan McNabb’s career as an Eagle. Like most of us, the star receiver believes McNabb was unfair to the young players, overrated as a leader and – above all – had outlived his usefulness in Philadelphia. What is hard to understand is why Jackson has grown so reluctant to own up to remarks he has made repeatedly to teammates and friends, not to mention The Sporting News? Why would he choose now to distance himself from the obvious truth? Last week, Jackson shut down all talk about McNabb in a series of interviews that ranged from silly to downright bizarre. At one point, he went all the way into the Comcast Sportsnet studios NOT to talk about McNabb. During an autograph appearance for a sporting-goods company, Jackson snapped out one-word answers to respectful questions from fans. His only memorable remark was that he is not Terrell Owens. That’s fine with us. We just don’t need or want another Donovan McNabb, who spent 11 years here hiding his real feelings and alienating a major portion of the fans in the process. DeSean Jackson is a compelling player with a flamboyant personality. He is ideally suited to the passionate city where he plays. The only thing that can ruin this relationship is the kind of timid and insincere behavior he has exhibited over the past week. ---------- Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi May 5, 2010 The magic number for the Phillies is 140. It is a bad number. In fact, it could be fatal to the team’s success this season and beyond. If the Phils are going to continue their current run of success, they are going to have to deal with the fact that there is nothing magical about the $140-million limit on their payroll. They are going to have to accept the price for success. They are going to have to find a way to raise that number. Two things happened in the past few days that cried out for a new philosophy. First, Ryan Howard signed a five-year, $125-million extension that will make him the highest-paid Phillie ever. And second, Jayson Werth saved a game with two outs in the ninth inning by refusing to lose. Both of these players are precious commodities on a winning franchise, but the Phillies are acting as if they can’t afford both. This is the kind of thinking that ends eras of domination prematurely. Howard is the best pure power hitter in baseball, yes, but how great would he be without Werth hitting behind him? The Phillies must re-sign Jayson Werth. The notion that a young outfielder named Domonic Brown can replace him next year is ridiculous. First of all, Brown is totally unproven. Secondly, he bats left-handed. And third, he will never be as ideal for this team as Werth is right now. Watching Werth destroy an afternoon’s artistry by San Francisco pitcher Tim Lincecum with a three-run double on the ninth pitch of an epic duel with reliever Brian Wilson should have sounded an alarm to the Phillies ownership. You can always buy a big bat or a strong arm, but where can you find the kind of mental toughness it took for Werth to weather pitch after pitch until he found one he could serve down the right-field line? The way the Phillies talk, Werth is a luxury they won’t be able to afford once he becomes a free agent at the end of the current season. He is not a luxury. He is an essential piece in an intricate puzzle, protection for the lefty-leaning lineup who can also run down a shot in the gap and take the extra base when needed. If it takes $17-million a year to sign him, well, he deserves it. Neither his talent nor his fortitude is easily replaceable. When I was talking to Phillies president Dave Montgomery on my WIP radio show last week, I openly pleaded for him to re-sign Werth. He said there was always hope, but that he cannot justify moving about that magic number of 140. Speaking for the fans, I said he had to move the number. I also said the fans would be willing to pay more for tickets, more for anything, because they remember what it was like to have a team that wasn’t anywhere near as good as this one. What this all comes down to is simple. The Phillies are winners. The city of Philadelphia is a winner. Settling for anything less than the best is no longer acceptable. ---------- In the midst of a historic housecleaning, they Eagles neglected a dirty little cranny in the back of their roster. Somehow, while clearing $53 million from their payroll in the off-season, they forgot to sweep out the biggest waste of money on the team, Michael Vick. What does it say about a football organization that it would discard noble warriors like Brian Westbrook and Sheldon Brown, and yet would keep an overpaid underachiever like Vick? Could it be that Andy Reid is willing to squander $5 million rather than admit the most absurd decision of his 12-year tenure? Ed Block Courage Award, my butt. Why the heck is Michael Vick still here? The only possible argument is that he is the best backup available for new starter Kevin Kolb. Of course, that claim is easily refuted. Vick has already said he’s ready to be a starter again, and – last season notwithstanding – he has no history of ever blending into the background of a team. Jeff Garcia would be a far better backup. For that matter, so would Jerry Garcia, and he’s dead. At least Kolb has Vick to thank for the new one-year contract extension granted last week for no apparent reason other than to bring the young quarterback’s salary above Vick’s. Kolb will be getting a little over $6 million in each of the next two seasons, which just so happens to be $1 million more than Vick is scheduled to receive this year. If you think that new salary is a coincidence, please return home immediately. Your village is missing its idiot. Michael Vick does not belong on the Eagles. There is no logical role for him, except for team troublemaker. The sooner Andy Reid figures this out, the better it will be for all of us. ---------- I come here today to bury umpire C.B. Bucknor, not to praise him. He is the worst official in any of the four major sports, and that’s saying a great deal. That’s saying he’s worse than musclehead Ed Hochuli in the NFL, NBA bully Joey Crawford and recently retired local blind man Kerry Frasor of the NHL. What Bucknor did to Phillies ace Roy Halladay last week was a disgrace. By virtue of his own incompetence, Bucknor took arguably the best pitcher in baseball and reduced him to mediocrity. And all it took was a bad umpire’s inability to distinguish a strike on the corners, a basic skill that is essential to Halladay’s success. Bucknor couldn’t tell a strike from a ball if you gave him instant replay and an hour to decide. Hey, don’t take my word for it. The last two times big-league players were polled on who was the worst umpire, Bucknor won convincingly. Yet, he blunders unabated, 14 years into a career that should have ended on the dusty fields of a Class A league a decade ago. Other than an occasional withering gaze, Halladay offered no criticism of the umpire during his ordeal. Two days later, however, Tim Lincecum of San Francisco took a different approach when Dana DeMuth missed a third strike. The two-time Cy Young award winner buzzed the next pitch over the catcher’s glove and right by the umpire’s left ear. DeMuth got the message and called a much better game after that. From his vantage point at second base, C.B. Bucknor no doubt missed the significance of the moment. In fact, I’m sure he thought the pitch was a strike. ---------- Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi April 27, 2010 The Eagles just can’t help themselves. Even in the chaos of the NFL draft, the one quality that shines through is their arrogance. In case you missed it, the Eagles had yet another amazing draft. They brought in a terrific pass rusher, a fantastic safety, another unbelievable defensive lineman, blah, blah, blah. I’m not here to tell you any of this is true or not. I wouldn’t be able to identify any of these guys if they were sitting in my living room. What I can say right now, though, is that the Eagles never fail to act like the smartest kid in the class, even though they never get to be the valedictorian. After 50 years of failing to win a championship, the Birds still think they’re the Yankees. For example, they maneuvered their way from No. 24 to 13 by trading two third-round picks to Denver, positioning themselves perfectly for safety Earl Thomas of Texas. The ESPN experts, moments before the announcement, even proclaimed that Thomas would be the Eagles’ pick. It made so much sense. They still desperately need to replace Brian Dawkins, whose absence was the result of some equally arrogant thinking last year. And then the Eagles did what they always do at the draft. They reached beyond the laws of logic and picked defensive end Brandon Graham of Michigan. That Graham wasn’t even the top defensive end available (Derrick Morgan of Georgia Tech was ranked No. 1) meant nothing to Andy Reid and his Mensa brigade. Hey, maybe they know more than everybody else. Yeah, sure they do. The way they did in 2003, when they traded from No. 30 to 15 and claimed defensive end Jerome McDougle of Miami? Same position, almost identical trade scenario, and we should expect a different result this time? Why? The Eagles are terrible at evaluating defensive ends, and have been throughout Reid’s 12-year tenure. Just two years ago they wasted a third-round pick on an undersized pass-rusher named Bryan Smith from that football factory, McNeese State. Before that, they called Victor Abiamiri the next Hugh Douglas. He has had four sacks in four seasons. The best defensive end they have drafted under Reid was practically an after-thought; Trent Cole came here in the fifth round. The point is very simple. The Eagles stink at the draft. They really wouldn’t do much worse with a dartboard. Yet, they continue to reach for players, to wheel and deal as if they know more than anybody else. By now, a logical organization would have brought in a top-rated player evaluator. Instead, this year Reid hired totally unproven Howie Roseman as his new GM and then spent the entire draft laughing in the face of conventional wisdom. There’s only one word for that kind of behavior. Arrogant. ---------- Two extraordinary things happened yesterday in the brave new world of the Phillies. First, the team took its place next to the elite of baseball, the Yankees and Red Sox. And second, Ryan Howard received the ultimate reward for incredible talent and hard work. A decade ago, the notion of our Phillies committing $125 million over five years to a single player was unimaginable. You may recall that owner Bill Giles once referred to the team as “small market.” Well, no one will ever use that term again – not after yesterday. For Howard, the most fearsome player in baseball, the historic deal represents not just an acknowledgement of his value to one of baseball’s marquee teams, but also a nod to his commitment to the game. In the past two years, while amassing monstrous numbers, Howard has exceeded all expectations defensively and has gotten himself into extraordinary shape. He didn’t have to do any of that. For many players, the first few big checks provide a reason to have that extra dessert, to walk that last mile instead of running. Howard has done the opposite. He has worked harder, gotten better and made himself into one of the best players in Phillies history. The only worry today for Phillies fans is what will happen to the other great players on the team – especially Jayson Werth, who will be a free agent at the end of the season. Will there be enough money to go around? Can the Phils afford to keep playing with the big boys? Philadelphia has waited a long time for a team this good. We deserve $25-million-a-year players. And now, for the first time ever, we have one. ---------- Peter Laviolette didn’t have a tough act to follow when he replaced John Stevens as coach of the Flyers four months ago. Stevens was an excellent tactician with the motivational skills of a sleep therapist. Still, in his brief time here Laviolette has provided a clinic on how to coach – not just in the NHL but in all sports. He is a tough-minded presence behind the bench who has quietly rebuilt the spirit of the team. The Flyers are hardly a great club; the fact that they will still be playing in May is remarkable. How remarkable? Well, the Flyers just beat the second seed, the New Jersey Devils, with their third-string goaltender, completing the five-game upset on the road without two of their best scorers. If you want to know what Laviolette has brought to the team, just take a look at Ian Laperierre, who took a puck above his right eye that required between 60 and 70 stitches. Dan Carcillo is actually scoring goals now, much to his own surprise. Keith Pronger, at 35, has been on the ice for almost half of every playoff game, performing spectacularly. Mike Richards is playing the best hockey of his career. What I’m saying is, these Flyers are becoming more and more like their coach, resilient and focused. After all of the lousy coaches we’ve had – and still have – in Philadelphia, it is truly refreshing to see Peter Laviolette do the job the right way. ---------- Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi April 20, 2010 For once, I am going to risk losing the reader in the first paragraph of my column, but this is a chance I have to take. I have been a Sixers fan for 50 years – from the day I fell in love with the greatest athlete ever, Wilt Chamberlain – and I have never been angrier about the state of this team than I am right now. How much do I bleed for this franchise? I was a Sixers fan for three decades while residing in Boston Celtics country. I grew up in Providence, R.I., during the reign of the Bill Russell champions of the 1950s through the 70s. Although the Sixers won only one title during those years (while the Celtics won 13), my loyalty never wavered. And that’s why I nearly lost my mind last week when GM Ed Stefanski called a news conference for the sole purpose of insulting me and the few remaining fans of the team. His 23 minutes of delusional blabber were an all-out assault on my loyalty. Every word brought with it another reason to give up, another reason to find something better to do with my sports passion. The stated reason for the news gathering was the firing of Eddie Jordan, a coach so bad that the organization will pay him $6 million over the next two years not to oversee the Sixers. When I suggested to Stefanski last year that he consider Avery Johnson and his career winning percentage of .735 before hiring his pal, the GM openly scoffed. Why hire a proven success when you’ve got a friend who has lost everywhere he ever coached? Now we have to endure the lame explanations of the man who made that ridiculous decision – and may actually soon get a chance to make another one. The fact that Stefanski is still in charge speaks volumes about the cluelessness of his bosses. Stefanski’s only hope is that, in chairman Ed Snider and president Peter Luukko, he may have found the two sports executives more inept than he is. Snider and Luukko were not present at the Jordan firing because they had more pressing business than the future of their franchise, a Board of Governors meeting in New York. What they missed this time was Stefanski explaining that he hired Jordan because the coach really, really believed the Princeton offense would work here. Jordan was unemployed, had a career NBA winning percentage of .444 at the time, and he was supposed to say his offense wouldn’t work? I won’t run through all of the other spectacular absurdities spouted by Ed Stefanski. They are too painful to recount for a person who loves this franchise and is dying a little more with every loss and every stupid decision. I’m sorry if I just wasted a few minutes of your time with this lament. I offer it here only because someone has to say something – someone has to care – about the Sixers and the unbearable injustice that is going on right now. ---------- The Phillies are overrated. There, I said it. Amid the euphoria of an excellent start, the truth has been hiding behind a barrage of booming home runs and jubilant capacity crowds. Don’t misunderstand. The Phillies are very, very good – the best team in the NL East and probably in the National League. They just aren’t as good as the conventional wisdom suggests. This is really not very complicated to understand. Pitching is the key to every team’s success. The reason the Phils didn’t repeat last season had nothing to do with their amazing offense and everything to do with the failure of their two top pitchers of 2008, Cole Hamels and Brad Lidge. Offense fills the seats, but pitching wins championships. Now take an objective look at the Phillies pitching. After Roy Halladay, is there one member of that staff who intimidates the opponent? Hamels is inconsistent. Joe Blanton and J.A. Happ are OK when they’re healthy, but Moyer and Kendrick are terrible – and that’s being kind. The bullpen is no better. Barring a return to form by the oft-injured Lidge, there is no proven closer, and the set-up crew is far weaker with Ryan Madson finishing games. No one likes to deal with reality when his team is comfortably in first place, but this Phillies team, as currently constituted, is going to disappoint us. The Phillies need more pitching. They need a proven starter. They need someone like that veteran lefthander who worked here late last season. What was his name? Oh, yeah. Cliff Lee. ----------- One of the most hotly debated issues of the past year has been the value of leadership on a sports team. Who is a leader? What makes him one? How does he impact his team? For the first time in recent memory, we have a player who exemplifies true leadership, a stabilizing presence on his team in good times and bad. His name is Chris Pronger. He is the primary reason the Flyers made the playoffs, and now we are finding out he is an even better leader when the games get more important. Watch him during a game, and you will see someone who is not afraid to fail. At 35, he is averaging 29 minutes a game in the playoffs. Mike Richards may carry the captain title, but the leader out there is Chris Pronger. You don’t have to be an expert in hockey – or in leadership – to see that. Even more impressive is Pronger’s demeanor before and after games. He is quick to paint the most optimistic picture for his teammates, but not by insulting our intelligence. If the team plays badly, Pronger will be the first one to acknowledge it and explain why. If they play well, he will temper the enthusiasm with reminders that more work lies ahead. Those who have suggested in the past that Donovan McNabb was a great leader would do well to study Chris Pronger. The difference between a real leader and a bogus one is right there, every day, for all of us to see. Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi April 13, 2010 The mystery surrounding Cole Hamels grows deeper with every pitch, more bizarre with every theory. Who is this man on the mound now? What happened to the dominant young pitcher who helped us realize our World Series dream two seasons ago? Watching Hamels throw his flat fastball and dangling curve nowadays, fans are beginning to question their own memories. The ball just seems so hittable – even for the banjo band wearing Washington Nationals uniforms – it’s hard to remember the days when Hamels was so good, we were comparing him to Steve Carlton. Yesterday, in front of a vibrant sellout crowd enjoying a 7-4 victory, Hamels provided no new clues and offered no new hope. Against a Washington lineup missing its best hitter, Ryan Zimmerman, Hamels was the only cloud on an otherwise perfect day. He gave up 4 runs in 5 2/3 innings, and only a stiff breeze blowing in from left field prevented some even uglier numbers. The problem, very simply, is that he just doesn’t look like the overpowering pitcher we saw two years ago. Remember, this is someone who not only anchored the fabulous 2008 team by winning 14 games and winning the World Series MVP award, but he was also 15-5 in 2007. The normal progression for young lefthanders is to improve those numbers, not regress to 10-11 with a 4.32 earned run average the way he did last year. So far, every theory for his downturn has defied simple logic. One is that he went to too many banquets and ate too much rubber chicken after the championship because he wanted to cash in on his new renown. Another is that he thinks too much now, creating a psychological hole in some games from which he cannot escape. And a third is that the batters have adjusted to his limited repertoire of pitches. Does anybody really believe these rationalizations? Do they really accept that Hamels couldn’t get ready in the six weeks of spring training last year, or that he suddenly became a head case after winning the World Series? And why did batters suddenly adjust to Hamels in his fourth year in the big leagues, after 84 mostly excellent starts? No, the real problem here is that Hamels’ fastball is not very good anymore. It doesn’t move, and it’s not all that fast. Without that fastball, his still-awesome change-up is less awesome. The Phillies are going to solve the mystery of Cole Hamels only when they stop making excuses for his problems and figure out what happened to his fastball. ---------- The Kevin Kolb era has begun for the Eagles, but the first week has been more about who he isn’t than who he is. And who he isn’t – fortunately – is Donovan McNabb. What Kolb’s promotion means, at least in the short run, is happier teammates like DeSean Jackson and Brent Celek, better field management in times of stress, more enlightening comments after games, less angst over slights (real or imagined), and simply a more comfortable atmosphere for winning. In a week of strange and interesting twists, the difference between McNabb and Kolb came into focus through comments not by the players, but by their fathers. Sam McNabb actually compared his son to Jesus, noting that the timing of the trade meant they were both resurrected on Easter. Roy Kolb, meanwhile, said he was proud of his son for winning a starting job in the NFL. The Eagles didn’t just trade an overrated quarterback when they dumped McNabb; they shipped out a boatload of damaging drama in the process. No longer will they have to deal with a leader who can’t lead, or a star who requires a financial apology after a well-deserved benching. In the long run, they will not just be better, they will also be far easier for the fans to embrace. Kolb will make his own legacy in the years ahead, but right now, it’s just comforting to know that the starting quarterback for the Eagles is not named Donovan McNabb. ---------- The hockey shootout is one of the most illogical and unfair resolutions to a sports event imaginable – and it provided the greatest excitement in many years late Sunday afternoon at the Wachovia Center. Think about it for a moment. What sport changes its rules radically at the end of a contest? What sport decides the outcome of a game with a skills contest? What sport determines the fate of a season with something akin to a roll of the dice? It’s all so insane, and yet it was spectacular. And I’m not saying that because the Flyers beat the Rangers, 2-1, and made the playoffs. I’m saying it because I was riveted to the TV set in those final moments, mesmerized by the spectacle – the fans biting their fingernails, the players pumping their fists or hanging their heads, the Flyers bench exploding with joy when Brian Boucher turned aside the final shot. Hockey has received much criticism over the years for its ridiculously long season and for its legalized thuggery, but it is still an amazing sport when so much is at stake. The Flyers have had a disappointing year. They have waited 35 years for another Stanley Cup. They are run by a man, Ed Snider, who is a relic from a long-forgotten era. For a few magical minutes late Sunday afternoon, however, it was great to be a fan of professional hockey, of the Flyers, and, yes, of the shootout, too. Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi April 7, 2010 The Eagles did much more than trade their franchise quarterback on Sunday night. They also made a final statement about his 11 years in Philadelphia, a pronouncement that could not be hidden behind their usual hollow platitudes. What the Eagles said – and this includes owner Jeff Lurie, president Joe Banner and coach Andy Reid – is that he was not a player who could win it all, not a player to build a team around, and not a player to be feared. These are Lurie’s words in an official statement after the trade: “Donovan McNabb was more than a franchise quarterback for this team. He truly embodied all of the attributes of a great quarterback and a great person.” And here’s what Lurie meant: “Donovan McNabb is such a great quarterback, we traded him, near the height of his career, to a division rival for a second-round draft pick.” With the Eagles, it always must be this way, weighing what they say against what they do because they don’t make a practice of telling the truth. In this case, the truth is that McNabb is not a winner. Oh, yeah, he won a ton of games over his decade-plus here, but never the big one. His one moment of truth came in the Super Bowl five years ago, and we all know how that ended. McNabb will always be a mystery to this city because he could have and should have done so much more. He was a tireless worker, an excellent role model, a gifted athlete. He won much of our affection early in his career with his amazing ability to evade a rush and run recklessly down the field. He had a great arm and great legs. What he always lacked was a head to match. We should have known a long time ago that it would end this way when he balked at using his greatest skill, his running, because he worried that it stereotyped him as a black quarterback. We should have figured out then that, for every big moment, McNabb would also supply a bizarre twist. He always had a knack for saying the wrong thing, even though he said so little. Of course, the most bizarre twist of all is how he left, during an off-season salary purge that has reached historic proportions now at $116-million. He left in the same off-season as his sidekick, Brian Westbrook, and so many of the other Eagles who made this era both a joy and a frustration. But in the end, the loudest statement came from his bosses, the very men who never missed a chance to tell the world how great he was after his big games and who hid in the shadows after his spectacular failures. They traded him to a division rival, for a second-round draft pick, because they knew he’d never be good enough to win it all here. -------------------- How should we remember Donovan McNabb – as the quarterback who played most of a big game with a broken ankle, or as the quarterback who threw up near the end of the Super Bowl? I will always remember him for both of those moments because they represent what he was, the most puzzling athlete in Philadelphia history. He never got over the booing at the draft 11 years ago, even though he knew it wasn’t actually directed at him; the band of drunken idiots I led to New York that day just wanted the Eagles to pick Ricky Williams. In fact, he never got over any slight, regardless of the circumstances. He never forgave Terrell Owens for saying the Eagles would have been 7-0 if Brett Favre had been their quarterback in 2005. He never recovered from the fan insults after he admitted not knowing the NFL overtime rules during his 10th season in the NFL. And he required a “financial apology” after his benching two seasons ago in Baltimore. Donovan McNabb’s legacy in Philadelphia can be summed up in two words: too sensitive. He was wrong for the offensive system coach Andy Reid taught him, and he was wrong for a city that demanded more from him than he demanded from himself. How bizarre was it for Reid to use the night of the trade to make his latest push for McNabb as a candidate for the Hall of Fame? Had any coach ever gift-wrapped his franchise quarterback and shipped him to a division rival, and then immediately launched into a Hall of Fame campaign for the player? No, never. But that ultimately will be the legacy of Donovan McNabb. When he was good, he was very good. And when he was bad, it was never his fault. -------------------- Roy Halladay didn’t look particularly sharp in his debut yesterday for the Phillies. He only won, ?-?. Just wait until he rounds into shape. The National League doesn’t stand a chance. The amazing thing about Halladay is his mastery of the simple act of throwing a baseball. Every delivery is a perfect copy of the previous one. Every time he throws the ball, his feet land in precisely the same spots on the mound. Every effort is absolutely devoid of emotion. It’s reached the point now where even he calls himself a robot. A brilliant article in the current issue of Sports Illustrated captures the psyche of this artist, this Picasso on the baseball diamond. His incredible turnaround all began with a book his wife, Brandy, brought home at the low point of his career in 2001, The Mental ABC’s of Pitching. Halladay didn’t just read the book; he devoured it. From that book and a merciless pitching coach named Mel Queen, Halladay learned the value of repetition. He also absorbed the nuances of pitching – how to move the ball in and out, up and down—and then he paid the price of greatness with 5:30 a.m. wake-up calls and a torturous daily regimen of running and weight-training.The results of his obsession will be there for us to enjoy for seasons to come. I have already put Halladay down for 250 innings, 24 wins, a Cy Young Award and his first trip to the World Series in 2010. Too much to expect? You won’t think so in July. -------------------- Idle thoughts . . . .
Angelo Cataldi March 30, 2010 As we all await the happy news about Donovan McNabb, it’s time for his fans to face a sad truth: He has been a major disappointment in Philadelphia. That’s right. The player who holds most of the Eagles quarterback records was never a great player here. And in the end, he was not good enough. He failed to do what any franchise quarterback chosen second in the draft is expected to do – win a championship. McNabb’s dominance in the team record book says so much about the kind of player he has been, a statistical machine who covered the distance between the 20-yard lines better than anyone who ever wore green and silver. Unfortunately, he blanched at the sight of the goal line, especially with the game on the line. If this appraisal seems harsh, please don’t blame the messenger. The past week has provided a compelling lesson in where McNabb ranks in the minds of the football experts, including those who worked directly with him. Since Andy Reid officially placed McNabb on the market last week, the coach has faced a wall of disinterest for a player Reid has called among the best quarterbacks in football and an almost certain Hall of Famer. Obviously, Reid is alone in that assessment. At 33, McNabb is clearly not worth the No. 1 draft pick Reid is seeking, and maybe not even a No. 2. What does that say to you? Even more ominous is the list of teams that have announced their disinterest. They include Cleveland, which has Reid’s best football friend, Mike Holmgren, and his former GM, Tom Heckert, running the operation. St. Louis has already pulled out, too, and they have two former Eagles aides, head coach Steve Spagnuolo and offensive coordinator Pat Shurmur, in charge. Holmgren and Heckert were willing to commit $7 million in guaranteed money to Jake Delhomme; does that tell you about anything about McNabb? Spagnuolo and Shurmur chose McNabb’s career caddy, A.J. Feeley, over him; isn’t there a message there, too? Of course, there’s a message. Even people who worked with McNabb for years – Schumur was his position coach for seven seasons – want nothing to do with him now. They will never say why, but I will. Because McNabb is not worth the trouble. His insecurities and eccentricities strangle a team. They lead to only one place, and that is failure. So shed a tear if you must, Donovan McNabb fans. Hold close to you the memory of his five NFC championship games, his Super Bowl, his hell-bent runs and laser passes. They will all be preserved forever in the record book and on videotape. And they are all a mirage. His own sport is booing him much louder now than the Eagles fans who greeted him so harshly 11 years ago. It’s always amusing to study the words of the countless baseball experts who fill the newspapers and clog the Internet this time of the year with their utterly useless predictions. Oh, by the way, I almost forgot. The Phillies are going to win 97 games in 2010. How do I know this? The same way I figured out last fall that the Eagles were a losing team, a seven-win disappointment. I’m guessing. And so is everybody else. The only difference between me and the other idiots is that I admit when I’m wrong. The Eagles ended up winning 11 last year before imploding at the end. I never counted on the rest of the NFL being so bad that the Birds could put up 10 of their 11 victories without beating a winning team. Still, the prediction was a stinker. But my forecast of 97 wins is not. If anything, it’s conservative. Roy Halladay alone should make up the modest difference between my number and last year’s 93 wins. Cole Hamels and Brad Lidge (or his replacement at closer) are bound to be better, too, but those improvements will be offset by less defense at third base and a bad injury to a top player – something the Phillies have been lucky to avoid the last couple of years. Those 97 wins will give us another exciting fall in Philadelphia, I predict. More great playoff games, more wild crowds, more amazing memories. Another parade? Hey, don’t rush me here. You’ll have to wait till October for that useless prediction. Raul Ibanez, an under-the-radar player for most of his career, appears to be over the hill. At least that’s the whisper in Clearwater as he returned from a brutal second half of 2009 with an even more pathetic spring training. And the worst part of the story – if indeed this is the inevitable swoon of a 37-year-old – is that his three-year, $30-million contract will probably cost the Phillies a younger and far better player, Jayson Werth. The math is so simple, it’s painful. Werth is expected to get around $18-million a year after his contract expires at the end of the season. Ibanez will receive $10 million in 2011. Jamie Moyer’s deal, at $8 million a year, is up this year. Take Moyer’s $8 million off the payroll, plus the $10 million promised to Ibanez, and you’ve got the money to keep Werth. Of course, it’s too late to cry over spilled millions. The real issue right now is, what has happened to the Raul Ibanez who – after a quietly efficient career in Kansas City and Seattle – exploded onto the national radar in the first half of last season? Injuries were a problem, yes, but they are also a sign of decline in an aging player. There are few truly compelling subplots to the great season that awaits all of us, but Raul Ibanez is one to follow. If he doesn’t find his way back, we’re all really going to resent him when Werth is gone. Idle thoughts . . . . * As the Flyers were falling apart, Comcast president Peter Luukko said GM Paul Holmgren was doing a “great” job. With standards like that, is it any wonder Ed Snider and his merry band of yes men haven’t won anything in 35 years? * Isn’t it great to see Tiger Woods changing his ways? Remember when he was such a control freak that he would schedule bad news around things like the new health-care vote and the NCAA Final Four? Oh, wait, that’s what the “new” Tiger Woods is doing. Never mind. * This may be a sacrilege to write, but Jay Wright is becoming the most overrated coach in Philadelphia. He has won no titles at Villanova – hasn’t even made the NCAA title game yet – and he’s too good to coach the Sixers? Please. * If I ever move again, it’ll be to Bensalem, where there is so little crime that they actually set up a major sting operation last fall for a woman offering sex for World Series tickets. In the end, they couldn’t even get the prostitution charge to stick. * Shawn Andrews has quit his Twitter account. How will we ever survive? Angelo Cataldi March 24, 2010 Even on the best teams, there is usually at least one flaw that threatens their greatness. On the Phillies, this defect has a name: Brad Lidge. Philadelphia’s loyalty to the personable closer is understandable. After all, how many baseball players have hand-delivered us a world championship the way he did in 2008? The only problem is, Lidge’s heroics are starting to fade now, and so is his talent. Last week, after giving up a run to Double A hitters in his first appearance of spring training, Lidge admitted that he won’t be ready for the start of the season – again – because he is still recovering from two off-season surgeries. Of course, the blindly optimistic Lidge quickly added that he’s never felt better and has high expectations for a terrific season. No one likes to say it out loud because Lidge gave us so much in 2008, but he was as much a goat in the World Series last season as he was a hero the year before. It’s so much easier to blame a head-case like Cole Hamels than a stand-up guy like Lidge, but the memory of Lidge’s meltdown in Game 4 with two outs in the ninth inning was a major turning point against the Yankees. For Lidge, it was also his last appearance in a humbling season filled with blown saves (11), demotions from the closer role, and fat fastballs. Lidge, who has been a model of inconsistency his entire career, no longer can use his lethal slider with the same effectiveness because his fastball has flattened and is harder for him to locate. Those who believe Lidge is about to enjoy a brilliant return to his 2008 form are kidding themselves. The season is still weeks away, and he already has two strikes against him – his age (33) and his knees (three operations in two years). Let’s be honest. Lidge is nothing more than a lightning-in-a-bottle kid of pitcher anyway, overpowering at times but equally prone to demoralizing failures. (See: Albert Pujols, 2005 playoffs). An even bigger problem is that he is the only weak link on an amazing team. The Phillies have the best line-up in baseball, maybe the best defense and definitely the best starting pitcher. The rest of their rotation is excellent, their set-up relievers are above average, the middle relief is fine, and the bench is much better than it has been in years. The only flaw is Lidge, who has the potential to turn Roy Halladay masterpieces into dust and big home runs by Ryan Howard into footnotes. The other day, I asked another puzzling relief pitcher of our past, Mitch Williams, how long the leash will be for Brad Lidge this year. “Short,” he said. “Very short. . . . I love Brad Lidge, but the Phillies can’t allow him to screw up another season.” Are you listening, Charlie Manuel? --------------- If you are a regular reader of this column, what happened last week was no surprise. Philadelphia’s most perplexing athlete of the last generation, Shawn Andrews, received the release from the Eagles that he so richly deserved. People are arrested for far less than the crimes committed by Andrews in the past few years. In all, he stole about $23 million in an Eagles career sabotaged by his lack of respect for the game of football and the great talent he was given. In 2006, the two-time Pro Bowler signed a seven-year, $40-million contract that was a death warrant for his career. With the financial independence provided by a signing bonus he never earned, Andrews turned his attention to his first love (music), his second love (Twitter) and his third love (cries for public attention.) His most notable contribution to society in the past two years – during which he played two games – was a story in The Sporting News in which he described how close he came to committing suicide. Of course, he has made a remarkable recovery since those darkest days of his deep depression. Unfortunately, that recovery did not include actually playing any football. I wrote last year at this time that he would never play another game for the Eagles, and he didn’t. My reasoning then was very simple. Shawn Andrews didn’t like playing the game. It was too demanding physically for him, too much work. All of his physical and emotional problems were just a smokescreen to mask that one sad fact. Shawn Andrews had the talent to become one of the best linemen in Eagles history. Instead, he became one of the biggest rip-off artists of his generation. --------------- Let’s play detective for a minute to see if we can figure out what happens next with our putrid Sixers. If we sift through the rubble of this season, we might just be able to figure out what the next indignity could be. Last week, new owner Michael Jordan said he wouldn’t hold coach Larry Brown to the final two years of his contract. Brown is getting antsy about being away from his family, which still lives just outside of Philadelphia. Also last week, former Sixers GM Billy King – and a protégé of Brown – said on my WIP radio show that he would welcome another chance to work in the front office of an NBA team, including ours. Sixers chairman Ed Snider has no clue how to run a basketball team, so he is most likely to rely on someone who does. By all accounts, his closest confidant in the NBA is . . . . Larry Brown. Hmmmm. Of course, coach Eddie Jordan will be fired the day after the season ends, and GM Ed Stefanski is not likely to survive his horrible decisions to overpay for Elton Brand and to hire his clueless pal as coach. Put it all together, and what have you got? A return to the Sixers of Brown as coach and King as GM. OK, you can stop laughing now. Check back with me in a couple of months. You definitely won’t be laughing then. --------------- Idle thoughts . . . . * Temple coach Fran Dunphy has lost 11 straight NCAA opening-round games. Now, I’m no expert on college basketball, but maybe Dunphy should spend less time telling everybody how great his opponent is, and more time telling his own players how great the Owls are. * What the heck is a “minor teaching point?” Villanova coach Jay Wright used that term to explain the benching of Scottie Reynolds and Corey Fisher before the first NCAA game, and it was bogus. We deserve to know what the players did before the biggest game of the year, don’t we? * The Phillies actually have a chance to sell out every game of the entire 2010 season. As they passed the three-million mark in sales last week, it suddenly occurred to me that maybe this is not a football town anymore. * In the first uncapped year since 1993, the Eagles have cut $94.5-million from their payroll, including $23-million from 2010 alone. Hey, president Joe Banner couldn’t possibly be manipulating the system to save money, could he? * Now that Shawn Andrews is gone, who is his brother Stacy going to babysit? Stacy is due $5 million in 2010. At that rate, he should be required to open a day-care center. Angelo Cataldi Jan. 31, 2010 The show had just ended, and I didn’t want to leave the studio. I knew that my new boss, Tom Brookshier, was standing just outside the door. I also knew I was about to be fired. It was my first day at the new all-sports station, WIP, and – with co-host Al Morganti – I had just contributed to the worst hour of radio in the history of the medium. Al had convinced Tom to give us a show even though we had no experience. Tom later explained that he said yes because, well, why not? Then he would explode with that trademark laugh. Well, we knew that day that it wasn’t working at all. We didn’t know how to go to commercial breaks, or the news, or even the callers. We didn’t know how to involve the audience, or how to develop a rhythm. Our one attribute was an ability to speak, and even that we both did with an irritating New England accent. But a funny thing happened when we opened the door to the studio that day. Tom Brookshier was smiling. He wasn’t angry that we had oversold ourselves to get the job. He must have heard something that we didn’t, because we got to come back the next day, and the next week, and the next year. Al and I are still there at WIP 22 years later. Thanks to the wisdom and generosity of Tom Brookshier, I found a career more rewarding and more lucrative, by far, than my work as a sports writer at the Inquirer. I even got to work side by side with Tom for two years on the morning shift, after I was hired full-time in 1990. Basically, Tom gave me my dream job, and then taught me how to do it. I owe more to that man than anyone in my professional career. Tom died last Friday night at 78 after a courageous battle with cancer. I say courageous even though I have no personal knowledge of that fight. In the final months of his life, Tom preferred not to burden his friends and admirers with the medical challenge he faced. But I’m sure it was courageous because he knew no other way. He was a champion on the football field, a pioneer in broadcasting and, above all, a man of great dignity and character. No day ever goes by when I am preparing a show that I don’t think of Tom. When I started, I stupidly believed that doing a radio show was the easiest way to make the big bucks. Four hours on the air, 20 hours of leisure. Perfect. Of course, it wasn’t that way at all. What I know now – what Tom taught me – is that it takes two hours of preparation for every hour you spend in front of the microphone. When I started doing a show every day with Tom, the thing that shocked me the most was his work ethic. He was a legendary football player, one of only seven Eagles ever to have his number retired, and he had worked at the highest level of TV broadcasting, the lead football analyst for most of his 25 years at CBS. He didn’t need to get up at 3:30 in the morning to schlep into work and prepare a morning show. But he did it, without complaint, every day. And he taught me to do it, too. He also taught me how to relate to the audience, how to attract advertisers, and how to have fun on the air. I never have done any of these things as well as he did, but somehow he equipped me with enough knowledge to survive for 18 years after he left. And Tom left WIP the way he did everything in his remarkable life, with a show unlike any in the history of our station. That last day, 34 guests joined him, a Who’s Who in American sports: Wilt Chamberlain, Bobby Knight, John Unitas, Dick Vermeil, Pat Summerall, John Madden. There were so many stories, so many memories. The only time Tom would cringe was when one of the guests tried to get sentimental on him. He had no tolerance for that. So, in his honor, I will try to avoid maudlin sentimentality on the passing of a truly important person. Tom was a great athlete and a great broadcaster, but all he ever wanted to be was a great friend. To me and so many others, he was the best friend we ever had. Angelo Cataldi January 11, 2010 I am extremely happy to report that I signed a new contract this morning with WIP, after a brutal four-month ordeal in which I truly believed several times that I was leaving the only station I know. The fact that I signed a week after the new year – and a week after the last contract ran out – shows how close I really came to leaving. The problem all along was not with my commitment to WIP, nor theirs to me. It was simply a philosophical difference over how the recession should impact my contract. I argued that my value to the station was only growing (as were ratings), and they argued that revenues were down throughout the industry and I had to shoulder the burden of that downturn. How close was I to leaving? In mid-November, I put in for my remaining comp time. My last day was going to be the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. I had every intention of following through on that drop-dead date until the weekend before then, when our parent company, CBS, softened its stance and offered what I considered the framework of a fair deal. Even with that breakthrough, we needed six more weeks to get the language right, requiring me to work without a contract last week for the first time in my 20 years at WIP. Believe me, I broke no banks with this deal. It represented a major compromise on both sides. The agreement runs for four years, with WIP holding the option to bring me back for what would be my 25th year if they want. Either way, I’m convinced this will be my last contract at WIP, and in radio. I will be 62 (or 63) when it runs out. By then, it should be time for someone else to take the show into the future. Until then, though, I will continue to do the best I can every day, every segment, to represent the passion of the great sports fans of Philadelphia. I thank all of you for your loyalty and your many kind words during this difficult time. Angelo Cataldi
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