As a fan of a wide variety of popular (and not-so-popular) music from the 1950s (and sometimes even earlier) up through the present, one of my bucket list projects for years has been to put together a list of my 100 favorite songs of all time. At some point I decided that, once I got around to figuring that out, I could put it out on a blog, for the infinitesimally small proportion of the Internet world that might be interested. So, here we are. While the Top 100 will be a major focus, I also plan to post on a variety of other musical (and occasionally non-musical) topics, in which you may or may not be interested. (If a particular posting doesn’t ring your bell, you’re only a few clicks away from a dancing cat video on YouTube.)

Friday, February 14, 2020

The Houston Cheaters, Part 2

I admit it – I spent much of my day yesterday totally obsessed with the Asstros’ spectacular failure of an attempt to put their 2017-2018(-2019?) sign-stealing-scandal behind them. I wound up perhaps five times as pissed off by the whole thing than I was before, and with considerably less respect for everyone involved. In particular, I’m now completely convinced that Houston owner Jim Crane is a gold-plated, 100% asshole. (Sorry, but that’s the mildest term I can come up with.)
 
Yesterday’s post contained links to (and quotes from) a number of articles that summarized what happened I lot better than I can. I did want to add some personal thoughts, however.
 
WORDS MATTER
 
Whenever I hear an apology that uses passive tense (“mistakes were made!”) and/or sounds like it was written by either a lawyer or PR specialist, I immediately file it in my mental trash receptacle. Altuve was apparently sorry for “what happened”. With Bregman, it wasn’t even “mistakes” that were made, it was “choices” that he regretted. Guys, the word is “cheat”, and it’s not just that “cheating happened”. How about: I cheated, he cheated, we all cheated.
 
It helps to apologize to those who were actually wronged. Everyone was falling all over themselves to apologize to the Houston fans – why? They’re the ones who got to celebrate. They got to go to the parade, touch the trophy, wear the “2017 World Champions” T-shirts. Try apologizing to the players and fans you deprived of the opportunity to compete for, and possibly enjoy, that championship on a level playing field.
 
Don’t shift all the blame to those who are no longer around. Crane’s statement that the players “are a great group of guys who did not receive proper guidance from their leaders” was totally pathetic, when the Comissioner’s Statement made clear that the sign-stealing-scheme was “player-driven and player-executed”.
 
Don’t deny the obvious. Anyone who’s followed baseball for more than a week knows that it can be a significant advantage for hitters (and a corresponding disadvantage for pitchers) when the hitter knows exactly what type of pitch is coming. That doesn’t mean that all hitters want to get, or always benefit from, this information, but overall it’s crystal clear that when one team’s hitters are illicitly receiving such information and the other team’s are not, it’s hardly a fair competition.
 
Building on that, don’t have the audacity to insist that your championship is “legitimate” and deny that it is in any way tainted. True, we can’t replay the 2017 season without the Houston players’ misconduct, and so we will never know whether or not they could have won as a thump-free team. But that uncertainty is their fault, not anyone else’s.
 
WORDS AREN’T ENOUGH
 
Actions speak louder than words, and the team and its players have not indicated that they will do anything concrete to partially atone for their previous sins. I have a couple of suggestions.
 
Many of the 2017 cheaters are now multi-millionaires. The full per-player post-season share in 2017 was over $438,000. Maybe all of those rich guys could take that money and put it into a fund. (Those just hanging on financially could kick in a lesser amount.) Divide the fund into three parts, with each part going to a charity selected by one of the teams that Houston defeated in October of 2017.
 
Similarly, the team itself benefited greatly from their ill-gotten success, in terms of increased attendance, merch sales, and ancillary revenue. I have no idea how much, but it certainly exceeds the $5 million fine (the maximum allowed, apparently) from MLB. So the team itself should contribute a substantial amount of money to the compensation fund described above.
 
Some have argued that MLB should strip the team of their title. Arguments can be made in either direction, but I have no expectation that this will actually happen. However, the team itself could make a gesture by taking down its championship flag, given the means by which it was obtained. Its continued presence above Minute Maid Park would represent a big, raised middle finger to every team that comes there to play, and to baseball in general. (They can keep the trophy, as far as I’m concerned.)
 
FINAL THOUGHTS
 
I would really love to have been a fly on the wall at the big Wednesday evening team meeting. Was it all really the gnashing of teeth, rending of garments, and self-abasement that has been portrayed? Or was most of it devoted to building team unity and deciding on a mutual set of talking points going forward. I’m also really curious about who actually wrote the statements that Bregman and Altuve read at the press conference.
 
And what happens now? Did they really think that Wednesday’s talking points were enough? Was the performance evil, or just clueless? Were they surprised by the unanimity and vitriol of the response, or did they expect it? Is anything more coming, or do they just not give a f--k?
 
Dusty, Dusty, Dusty. I get it that he wants to have one final opportunity to add a World Series title to his otherwise-impressive managerial resume. If he had gotten a job with just about any other team, I would be pulling hard for his success, but certainly not under these circumstances, with this team. For me, the Asstros 2020 season is going to bear a remarkable similarity to Trump’s impeachment trial. Where Trump claimed vindication after his acquittal, the Houston players will claim that a 2020 championship completely legitimizes their 2017 title. I’m sure that others disagree, but for me, taking a job managing Houston this year is the baseball equivalent of taking a job working for Trump. You're selling your soul either way.

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