Imagine a U.S. military and civil service comprised of large numbers of former college athletes. A fellow named Dave Maloney already has and thinks that it could address several concerns.
The military struggles to attract and retain quality candidates, and is in many ways exhausted after two decades of conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Meanwhile, college athletics is in the midst of seismic change owing to court rulings that permit athletes to make money from their abilities, as well as pandemic-related cuts to hundreds of Olympic sports programs at schools all over the country. There’s also a choking level of student debt that has reached $1.75 trillion, according to Forbes.
Enter Maloney.
He proposes a plan in which the Department of Defense foot the bill for athletic scholarships in sports other than football and basketball, in exchange for some yet-unspecified obligation after athletes leave school – military, civil service, government support, whatever. He frames it as a “21st century pathway to service.”
Maloney points to a 2018 report by the Heritage Foundation, based on Pentagon study, that 71 percent of young Americans between the ages of 17 and 24 would be ineligible for military service, with the primary reasons inadequate education, obesity and criminal records. As opportunities for Olympic sports athletes diminish after high school, and the cost of education skyrockets, any potential scholarship aid for those who wish to continue to compete can be a lifeline. Former college athletes, in turn, provide a driven, disciplined, educated, physically fit group of candidates for military or public service.
Win-win, as Maloney sees it.
“The Department of Defense just went to Congress with its initial budget for next year,” Maloney said in an interview with the sports business website Sportico. “It’s the largest budget ever, and yet we’re seeing a decrease in our technological capabilities, and we’re seeing a decrease in any interest in service. What does that tell you? Talented people don’t want to work at decaying institutions. You’ve got to gut-punch it.”
Indeed, the Pentagon requested a $773 billion budget for fiscal year 2023. That includes $1.32 billion in “recruiting and advertising” costs for the four major branches of the military, as well as billions more in training. In comparison, the 100-plus public FBS schools spent $653 million on scholarship costs outside of football and basketball in 2020-21, according to Sportico’s financial database. In other words, the money’s available, if the Pentagon and the NCAA are willing to reconsider and alter standard practices.
Maloney’s idea hasn’t been stuffed into a wingnut corner of the basement because of who he is and what he does. He’s a former track athlete at Auburn who owns a Houston-based software and analytics company that is a contractor for the Air Force. He began circulating the framework of his plan last fall through the Pentagon and Congress himself and through several paid advisors, including retired four-star Army and Air Force generals and a retired Navy vice admiral. No current high-ranking government or military officials have endorsed his idea, but he hasn’t been dismissed out-of-hand.
When Sportico described the plan to Notre Dame athletic director Jack Swarbrick, he said, “We happen to have one of the more vibrant ROTC programs in the country, so we’re already involved in the military. I have about 101 questions, but would I listen? Sure.”
Reggie Love, an advisor to former President Barack Obama and ex-Duke basketball player, told Sportico, “We have not changed the process in how we build out new talent for the military in quite some time. So even if this is not a successful venture, forcing us as a country to have a deep philosophical review of where we’re going and how we get there is always helpful.”
As always, the devil is in the details, and among the many questions are: what manner of service? Active duty military or non-combat support? Would scholly recipients have a say about their path? How and to whom is aid awarded? Is it left to individual sports programs and coaches, or would the Department of Defense want control? Do women’s sports and Title IX considerations figure into the equation? How would DoD funding, whether large or supplemental, affect scholarship limits?
Remember that the NCAA permits only a fraction of the scholarship numbers for Olympic sports related to their roster size. Baseball has only 11.7 scholarships for a roster of 30 or more. Men’s soccer and wrestling are allowed a max of 9.9 scholarships, lacrosse 12.6 scholarships with rosters at least twice that size. Men’s tennis gets 4.5 scholarships, women’s tennis eight and field hockey 12. Most Olympic sports athletes are only on partial scholarship, if they receive money at all. Would Pentagon scholarship money take up the total amount for athletes who commit to post-graduate service at some programs, and thus exclude those who said ‘no thanks’ and only want to compete and attend school?
Maloney also believes that the DoD and Federal government could benefit from the billions of dollars that colleges spend identifying and recruiting prospects. They also could benefit from the abundant youth recruiting services that rank everyone from wrestlers to baseball players to lacrosse players to track athletes and volleyball players nationally and in their states, and which are often invaluable to college recruiters.
Maloney
Coincidentally, which is to say not coincidentally at all, Maloney’s company, Orchestra Macrosystems, is capable of aggregating info from high school sports recruiting databases to give the Feds and DoD a one-stop shop about athletes and potential candidates, maintain up-to-date info on kids, coordinate messages from college coaches and Federal recruiters, and as he puts it “leverage the recruiting prowess of NCAA coaches and recruiting budgets of NCAA schools to engage high school students possessing the physical, academic, and leadership qualities sought by the federal government and collegiate sports programs alike.”
Larger questions beyond logistics and execution of Maloney’s ideas might run along the lines of: As a society, do we really want to dangle the promise of higher education and athletic participation in exchange for military or government service? If the lack of qualified candidates is as potentially dire and the threat to national security that some in the military describe, why not shelve the volunteer force and re-institute the draft? Since we’re no longer in a direct shooting war, what are our actual personnel needs?
I expect no de-emphasis on our military, conflict or not. Given the money spent and those that benefit from it, our nation’s history and makeup, and our preoccupation with WMD here and abroad, and the places we might use them, that battleship has sailed. Maloney's plan may not carry, but don't be surprised if something similar comes down the road.
It's the natural way of things for older generations to baffle at the ideas, popular culture, and mores of the young. I consider most of the Gheorghieverse to be fairly hip for our increasingly advanced ages, but there are things I personally struggle to grasp, even as my kids navigate them with effortless fluency.
Here's a recent case in point.
As noted often in this space, my eldest daughter is a rare and wondrous thing. She's all instinct and Id, an in-the-moment being who thrives on human contact, novelty, and expression. She amazes me on a regular basis.
Or, I guess I should say, they amaze me on a regular basis.
Several months ago, while at dinner in Richmond, my kid told me and my wife that they identify as non-binary and prefer they/them pronouns. Flippantly, I said, "How does that work? Can I identify as tall?" And my child, who's generally a sunny person and not quick to anger, got genuinely pissed at me because they thought I was making light of a pretty major development in their life.
So I'm writing this post as a way to begin to think through my feelings and understanding of a topic that's honestly really confusing to a 51 year-old cis white dude.
On the right, my brilliant loon of a child
I had a really excellent conversation with my kid last week about their perspective. I came at it very much seeking to learn and understand. I know more than I did before, but I'm still a work in progress. But the gist of it is that they reject the expectations that society places on us from birth, where we're socialized as two genders. That binary socialization doesn't fit everyone's concept of their being.
If you know my kid, you'll get that the whole notion of rejecting expectations and norms is pretty dead on in terms of keeping with their history. As you might note from the picture that accompanies this post.
They said something during our conversation that has stayed with me, even as it remains a paradox. "I feel more woman than man, and more boy than girl." This from a person that likes to wear slinky cocktail dresses and Doc Martens when she goes to metal shows and enters the fray of the mosh pit. I get it. I think.
I've got work to do. I still call them her reflexively, but they're forgiving of that. I wrestle with the biological versus emotional/intellectual elements of a non-binary identity, but they tell me it's not about biology at all - they're very comfortable with their physical body.
The entire thing, like my kid, is endlessly fascinating. And that's...one to (continue to) grow on.
Life at the Cracker Factory has been downright draining over the past several weeks. I'm on the horns of a personnel dilemma that feels a lot like a no-win situation. I'm hoping to drink a lot this weekend and by doing so experience so sort of epiphany.
I did get a bit of a stress release from watching something so profoundly stupid and silly that it made my sides hurt from laughter. So I thought it would share it to lower the level of discourse here. [Not entirely sure that's possible.] It's a TikTok thing called the Ceiling Fan Water Bottle Challenge. Even the name is stupid.
Returning soon with an actual thoughtful post that's been a long time coming. But for now, dipshittery!
In a far more timely episode than in my post about the nominees announcement, I bring you sort of, kind of, semi-breaking news. The 2022 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees!
Look, I know there are far more pressing, important, newsworthy, debate-worthy topics right now. I also know there are far more depressing, scary, terrible things we could be discussing. How about rock and roll and a committee of propped-up Judgy Judgersons judging people's art and influence to make grand decisions about their merit for inclusion in a special club of artists? Sounds like the right amount of light fare to me!
So . . . it should be pretty fresh in your minds whom the nominees were. Who got in?
Let's start with who did not get the nod.
Beck didn't get in! Wow. I'm sure somewhere out there some yuk-yuk has a "Beck, Loser" joke, but I won't make it. Anyway, I called Beck a "lock" in my predictions, and boy, was I wrong. Everybody's got to learn sometime. I've heard some speculate that he's still young and active enough that the Hall wanted to wait a while, but the Chili Peppers got in a decade ago, and they put a chart-topping album out last month. Anyway, where's it's at for Beck is on the waiting list.
MC5 and the New York Dolls. Eventually the red carpet leading into the hall will be large enough to have fringe, and that's what protopunk is considered, but it will be a while until they kick out what jams these guys' passage into the RnRHoF.
A Tribe Called Quest. Sorry, Z. I'm sure they aren't buggin' out about this scenario, and I'm sure the Hall will find a way to let them in. Not as first-balloters.
Kate Bush, Dionne Warwick, Fela Kuti. Nothing clever here. I thought Ms. Warwick was in, but then again, I thought she was already in when she got nominated last year. Oh, well.
Rage Against the Machine. Morello on the committee, as it turns out, doesn't turn the tide. At least you gheorghies who are seeing them play in August may see some added... rage.
Devo. It's the long, uphill trudge to see these lovable nerds get in. I'll still fight the fight, but it may not ever happen. The myth that all they did was "Whip It" is exactly that.
And now . . . drum roll, please.
Who got in?
Well, Dolly Parton did. If Donny and Marie are a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll, well, Dolly's a whole hell of a lot the former and not so much the latter. That was the mini-controversy that popped up when she gracefully bowed out and the Hall gracelessly kept her on the ballot. Eh... she's awesome, and she said she will accept the induction, anyway. (Fast fact: she got into the Country Music Hall of Fame 23 years ago.) Listen: Everyone knows "Jolene," "9 to 5," and "Islands in the Stream," but don't sleep on pop pleasure like 1977's "Here You Come Again."
Duran Duran! Yes. I enjoyed this band when they first hit US radio stations and MTV when I was 12. I played them loudly from the fraternity house suite when their compilation CD Decadewas released in 1989. And took heat for it. I liked their "comeback album" . . . which was way back in 1993. Hell, I still enjoy their tunes. I will say that their cover of "911 Is a Joke" should be buried deep, deep in a mud hole never to be excavated. I'm psyched for this selection. Fast Fact: their name comes from the villain in the movie Barbarella, best known for an inane outer space plot and Jane Fonda nudity. Listen: All the hits remain fun for me to hear, but even more enjoyable is digging into lesser knowns like "Careless Memories," "The Chauffeur," "New Religion," and "Shadows on Your Side."
Eurythmics. Also happy for them, and I didn't even see it coming. They're both brilliant artists, writers, producers, musicians. I thought the Eurythmics proper catalog might be light, but who am I to disagree? Listen: "Would I Lie to You?" and "Here Comes the Rain Again"; but really, do this. Turn your volume up. Like high. And play "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)." Here that bass drum and keys, followed quickly by everyone's first introduction to Annie Lennox's voice. And imagine that with her spiky red hair, that video threw everyone way off in 1983. Whoa. Actually, don't imagine it; watch it below. Loud.
Pat Benatar. Hell yes. She came on the scene with "Hit Me with Your Best Shot," and she was relentless for most of the 80's. Her look was mimicked by high school girls on a level higher than Cyndi, higher than Belinda, only exceeded by Madonna. The Brooklyn-born artist formerly known as Patricia Mae Andrzejewski is inducted with her bandmate, co-writer, and husband, Neil Geraldo. You want to read a random (cool) rise to fame?
Benatar trained as a coloratura with plans to attend the Juilliard School, but decided instead to pursue health education at Stony Brook University.
At 19, after one year at Stony Brook, she dropped out to marry her first husband, high school sweetheart Dennis Benatar, a U.S. Army draftee who was stationed at Fort Lee, Virginia, starting in 1973.
Pat Benatar worked as a bank teller near Richmond, Virginia. She quit her job to pursue a singing career after being inspired by a Liza Minnelli concert she saw in Richmond.
She had a gig at a Holiday Inn and got a job as a singing waitress at a nightclub named the Roaring Twenties. The band gained in popularity and was the subject of a never-aired PBS special. Her last significant gig in Richmond was a two-hour performance at Thomas Jefferson High School.
Dennis was discharged from the Army and the couple moved to New York in May 1975 so Pat could pursue a singing career. Benatar performed at an amateur night at the comedy club Catch a Rising Star in New York.
In late 1975 she landed the part of Zephyr in Harry Chapin's futuristic rock musical, The Zinger, which ran for a month in 1976 at the Performing Arts Foundation's Playhouse in Huntington Station, Long Island.
Halloween 1977 proved a pivotal night in Benatar's early, spandexed stage persona. She entered a Halloween contest at the Café Figaro in Greenwich Village dressed as a character from the film Cat-Women of the Moon. Later that evening, she went onstage at Catch a Rising Star still in costume.
Between appearances at Catch a Rising Star, she recorded commercial jingles for Pepsi-Cola and a number of regional brands. She headlined New York City's Tramps nightclub over four days in spring 1978, where her performance was heard by representatives from several record companies. She was signed to Chrysalis Records by co-founder Terry Ellis the following week.
Pat and Dennis Benatar divorced shortly after that, although she kept his surname.
And then she became a star. So awesome.
Listen: "Heartbreaker," "Fire and Ice," "Treat Me Right," "Hit Me with Your Best Shot," (all four of these songs have identical lyrical content... you're a bad dude, don't mess me up) and "Hell Is for Children." Oh, also, the answer to the trivia question I asked in the last post that nobody read and/or cares about: "I love Pat Benatar, and she's hit for hit with Mellencamp, who got in 15 years ago. Including what tune they both recorded for a hit???
"I Need a Lover." Come on.
Carly Simon. Ah, the anticipation. Carly Simon is cool, and the thought is that she completes sort of a triumvirate of Joni Mitchell and 2021 inductee Carole King. I like Carly Simon well enough. I like her song "Jesse" more than my younger self would allow. I do like that she and James Taylor were married as they were cranking out their biggest hits. I sort of like their Top 10 duet rendition of a particular American standard, though I love the version below with all my heart:
She also sang what I consider a Top 5 Bond theme songs, as paired with Marvin Hamlisch's killer music. I think it's up there with "Live and Let Die," "Goldfinger," "All Time High," and . . wait for it . . . "A View to a Kill" by Duran Duran! Two Bond themists in one class! Brilliant. (It edges out "For Your Eyes Only" and "Skyfall.") Anyway, there is only one way to hear "Nobody Does It Better": by watching this clip followed immediately by this clip. I looked and couldn't find one clip with the whole bit.
Anywho, what you most know Carly Simon for is her international chart-topping hit "You're So Vain." Much has been written about this tune, and it's a dandy of a song. The mystery behind the clever "who's it about?" embedded within the lyrics... unrivaled. (As was the album cover, paired with its title No Secrets. Clever girl.) Simon even took to revealing one letter in the subject's name per year for a while. And then the just gave up and divulged what most people had guessed. Hey there, Warren Beatty. Anyway, when this song pops on the hi-fi, I always ask folks a different trivia question: Who sang back-up in the chorus? Listen for it. Answer below.
Eminem. A very different rise to fame than Pat Benatar's, but equally fascinating. I called this one a lock, and this time I was correct. If you had told me 20-some years ago that he'd be a lock? Slim Shady? This reverent institution? Hell, Run-D.M.C. wasn't even in the Hall then! (2009.) But now? Well.... the Hall would be so empty without him, right? Listen: You already know. And while the two LP albums are tip-top, I always think of Teej when I hear "Just Lose It," and how he commented in this space that Marshall Mathers had gone off the deep end. Um... also... and you can't make this shit up... he did a cover of "Mockingbird"... in his way. Wow.
Lionel Richie. Hello... it's this guy you were looking for. Look, I don't know how you can completely, thoroughly separate the man from his former band and their all-star output, but that's what the Hall was asked to do. Solo performer content only. Yeah, right, It's like asking for something to be stricken from the record. It's in my brain, man! And "Sail On" is probably among Top 10 f-u breakup songs of all time. ("You're So Vain" and "Hell Is for Children" might make the list as well.) Anyway, listen to the Commodores first, but then dig back into 80's chart-toppers from the man, the myth, the legendary Lionel. Listen: "Running with the Night," "You Are," "Truly," "Stuck On You," and of course, for old times' sake, "All Night Long." Tom bo li de say de moi ya. Yeah, jambo jumbo.
Judas Priest. Judas Fucking Priest. This would be fantastic except for one thing. They gave them the LL Cool J side door treatment. I repeat: The Award for Musical Excellence shall be given to artists, musicians, songwriters and producers whose originality and influence creating music have had a dramatic impact on music. Crap. I have told you this and told you this. Anyway, it's worth cranking some Priest and giving the Hall the finger. And the PMRC. And Beavis. And Butt-Head. Listen: "Living After Midnight," "The Hellion/Electric Eye," "The Sentinel," "Screaming for Vengeance," "Heading Out to the Highway," and the MTV classic "You've Got Another Thing Coming," and of course . . .
How'd I do this go-around?
So I got 4 of 8, except I'm giving myself Dolly Parton based on what I wrote and what ensued. And since Priest wasn't given the front door treatment, I'm calling that one an N/A. 5 of 7. So what, I'm an easy grader.
To close it out, here's the answer to the other trivia question, the one about who sings along with Carly in the chorus on "You're So Vain." Can you hear it?
Mick Jagger. The one and only. I can't listen to this song and not hear him any more.
Steve Cohen, getting things done and giving few craps about it.
The umptillionaire owner of the New York Mets cut veteran Robinson Canó today as rosters needed trimming from 28 to 26 players.
To review:
Canó came up in 2005 with the crosstown Yanks and was instantly very good. The second baseman finished 2nd in Rookie of the Year voting.
He remained solid throughout his 9 years in pinstripes, improving as time wore on. He won a pair of Gold Gloves and finished Top 10 in MVP votes four years in a row.
He became a free agent in 2013. The Mariners banked heavily on Canó, offering him $24 million a year for 10 years.
Two of his first three years in Seattle lived up to the bankroll. After that, his value faded (he was 34 then, after all) and he was suspended 80 games for Performance-Enhancing Drugs. In 2018, the Mariners were so desperate to dump this albatross contract that they were willing to eat $20 million of it.
The problem for Mets fans is that (a) that still left $100 million on the contract and that (b) the Mets were willing to bite. Interestingly, the Mets GM at the time was Brodie Van Wagenen, who had been Canó's agent who struck the megadeal. Sounds all wrong? It was.
Canó has had a handful of unimpressive seasons for the Mets and was suspended for all of last year with a another PED violation.
He began this year with a mission to rectify all of that with a brilliant Mets season.
In 43 plate appearances, Canó registered a .195/.233/.268 line, meaning a .501 OPS. Bleh. His defense was even worse, according to sabermetrics.
Today, he was designated for assignment.
This means that he is released from duty but will be paid the $40.5 million remaining on his contract through 2023. That's the difference between Steve Cohen and the Wilpon family. If you're overpaid dead weight, Cohen will pay you out and send you packing rather than grinning and bearing your sagging presence for even one more season.
The icing on the cake . . . Cohen sent Canó's agent an invoice for the remaining 40 mill. Because Canó's agent is once again, of course, Brodie Van Wagenen. (Worth mentioning is that Cohen had fired Van Wagenen hours after buying the team in 2020.)
Anyway, just to fuck with him and remind him of the rotten-in-Denmark deal that BVW saddled everyone in Queens with, Cohen dished out some douchery in the form of that invoice, and it made me smile.
Not as much as Canó can smile for being paid that dough to do nothing, but still. Not bad.
Gheorghe: The Blog has a number of active roster members as well as readers who reside in the nation's capital region, or at least did at one point. Myself included.
To those still there -- hey, enjoy our festival.
By "our festival," I mean the event that was brought to life by someone from my hometown as a way to lift up the sagging spirits and local economy in a way that benefited those that needed it most and unified the region in neighborly love and a give-a-shit attitude massage.
The Something in the Water festival was awesome.
Virginia Beach's own Pharrell Williams was the driving force behind the festival, which launched in 2019 as a three-day, action-packed mélange of music, artistic expression, youth programming, and neighborhood-building activities. There are music festivals, and then there are events that serve as building blocks for total community formation. This was the latter.
And I missed it. I don't even recall why . . . what a blockhead. It was this time of year, the weather was great, and there were concerts on the beach 25 minutes from my house. My daughters went and loved it. So did my friends. Maybe I figured this was the beginning of a long-standing festival, and that I'd catch it when the artists were more of my favorites.
Who played? Well, Pharrell did, obviously, with his hometown buddy Chad Hugo. And Va Beach's own Pusha T. And Norfolk's own Timbaland. And Missy Elliott, who grew up in Portsmouth. This town can produce some music.
Dave Matthews also played, as did Gwen Stefani, Busta Rhymes, Jay-Z, Diddy, Usher, Travis Scott, Tyler the Creator, and Sir Snoop Dogg OBE. By all accounts, it was great.
To appreciate the value of this event, you have to understand the region in which I live. I won't bore everyone with a history lesson. Well, I definitely will, but I'll give it to you in Cliffs Notes format:
This region is known as the Birthplace of Colonial America. Williamsburg was a 4-5-year home to a number of us, so we recall that it's not much of a drive to get to where Cornwallis surrendered or where the first permanent English settlement (Lost Colony RIP) began.
In 1619, the first slave ship supposedly landed on Old Point Comfort in Hampton, Not all history makes you proud.
It's worth noting that this happened about 100 yards from the hotel that hosted the Pi Lam Sweetheart formal in the late 1980's and early 1990's. I have the distinct honor of having been a part of not one but two entities officially banned from this hotel for life: the Norfolk Academy Senior Party was there, and we were told never to return. Same went for the fraternity after we put the Best Pledge's head through a wall.
Later on, the region was the site of the storied battle of the Monitor versus the Virginia (née Merrimack). Bridge-Tunnel out front shoulda told ya.
The cities down this way are all named for English people and places. La-di-frickin-da. Norfolk, Suffolk, Portsmouth, Hampton, Yorktown (from Yorkshire), Gloucester, a burg for King William, a town for King James, Princess Anne County, and two capes across the bay, one named for an English king and another for a Prince of Wales. Hell, the state (ahem, Commonwealth, my son) and the beach town here owe their names to the Virgin Queen. (Well, at least she was a virgin in her freshman year.)
History. History. History. Blah. De blah. De blah.
Okay, here's where it gets (mildly) interesting.
Fast forward to the year of the Russian Revolution. 4,969 miles west, an installation was created to serve the US Navy. It was wartime, and down here we have the deepest natural harbor on the east coast. To date, Naval Station Norfolk is the largest Naval Base in the world. We're the best at superlatives!
So for 100 years, we're been bringing sailors, seamen, squids, jarheads, frogmen, salty dogs, mariners, SEALs, and seafarers into this region. Many stay post-active duty.
We also have Langley Air Force Base, Army bases Fort Eustis and Fort Story (where Rob ran during the Shamrock Marathon), a Marine command, 4 Coast Guard bases, a Naval Air Station, and a shit-ton of other military installations -- 15 in all.
Also, as opposed to the tried and true model of one-city-with-suburbs, we've got Seven Cities. Seriously, that's what we're called. That and Hampton Roads, Tidewater, Coastal Virginia, or the 757.
That last one is our latest attempt to name a region that refuses to be named. See what I wrote about it here.
Anyway, Seven Cities sounds like a nifty moniker, but as an economic model, it's utter bunk.
Bored yet? You're about to be!!
See, here in Virginia (and in a number of other states), we operate under something called Dillon's Rule, named after a dude with a good beard and a novel idea that has grown a little shopworn over the last 130 years. According to this article:
So-called “Dillon’s Rule” states, including Virginia, operate under the assumption that localities can only wield powers explicitly authorized to them by the state. That approach has hamstrung cities that wish to solve some of the most pressing problems of their residents. States have voided municipal minimum wage laws, prevented local plastic bag bans, barred the municipal regulation of ride-sharing services and outlawed local family leave policies, to name a few examples.
Plus sea level rise, according to a William and Mary Law alum. But it's way bigger than plastic bags -- no offense to my good friends at the Chesapeake Bay Foundation. Gun rights. Racial justice. Real change. You can be in the most progressive city or county in Virginia, but whenever we have a General Assembly whose middle name is Lee and a governor who signs vetoes like I sign Chris Chandler's autograph on cocktail napkins in a bar at midnight, good luck with all that.
This rule, either in actuality or by virtue of being used as a cop-out, has exacerbated the Seven Cities thing. Every locality is out for itself. Look, they always were. But now each city is utterly unincentivized to work together, share tax revenues, generate regionalism, and execute innovative economic development that would benefit anyone other than themselves.
Seven Cities, which are really 17 cities and counties in southeastern Virginia. Let's review, obnoxiously. Here's a callous, sloppy look at who we are.
Norfolk, home to Les Coole, Clarence, Igor, and me. Nah-fuk. Produced Sweet Pea and Dee-Dubs and Bruce and Joe Smith. There's the east side of Norfolk, an "urban center" with folks in areas of chronic high poverty, and there's the whitest side of Norfolk where the money is. Norfolk used to be the epicenter of the region, but the star has faded over a generation. Votes blue.
Virginia Beach. Vah Beach. Produced Percy Harvin, Gabby Douglas, J.R. Reid, and Ryan Zimmerman. Huge tracts of land. Lots of affluence and swanky domiciles around the oceanfront, lots of pick-up trucks and Let's Go Brandon stickers elsewhere in the city. Was residential and touristy as recently as the 1980's, now has quite a bit of commerce. Uppity fuckers. Whole lotta honk. Votes red.
Portsmouth. P-town. Virtually no sports stars are from here (save LaShawn Merritt), though they host the Portsmouth Invitational Tournament every year, which is pretty cool. Tiny and with lots of federal land with no serviceable tax revenue, they're always cash-poor. Known as the "armpit of Tidewater" when I was growing up, it has a cool Old Town area and a not-as-cool amount of crime. Fast fact: Patton Oswalt, Missy Elliott, Wanda Sykes, Bebe Buell, Mike Watt, and I were all born in the same hospital in Portsmouth. Votes super blue.
Chesapeake. The Dirty Chez, as it's known in some places. Hometown of Zo, D. Hall, the Upton brothers, Brian Hightower, and Ricky Rudd. The most countryfied of the Seven Cities. Lotta Navy residents, lotta businesses because land is plentiful and cheap. Dollar Tree HQ, for example. Truck nuts and "more miles of deepwater canals than any other city in the country." That's about as interesting as Chesapeake gets. Votes as bright red as their necks.
Hampton. Crabtown. The origin story of Allen Iverson, for fuck's sake. And Tyrod Taylor, Ronald Curry, and a number of others. Small, lots of waterfront, and a Black population near 50%. Always feuding with Newport News. Votes very blue.
Newport News. "Newpert" News, say the locals. Bad News, but not Bad Newz, the "kennels" funded by NN product Michael Vick. Mike Tomlin, Aaron Brooks, and Al Toon are also from Newport News. What's the story in NN? Building ships. The city doesn't do much at all that isn't tied to Newport News Shipbuilding. Your tax dollars at work, every day. Boring. Slight blue vote advantage.
Suffolk. "Surprising Suffolk." It's not surprising. It's rural. The guy who played Uncle Phil in "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" is from here, and he might've been an athlete. What's Suffolk about? Peanuts! The Peanut Capital of the World. For real. Mr. Peanut is from Suffolk. I didn't make that up. Votes rather red.
The Seven Cities stupidly doesn't include Williamsburg (LT and Mel Gray; retirees, college students, tri-cornered hat people, tourists, and townies; red city), Yorktown (Terry Kirby & Chris Slade; stuck in 1781; super red), Poquoson (no athletes you've heard of; "one of the oldest continuously named cities in Virginia" . . . my, that's stretching; as red as the blood that flows through the arteries of these proud Americans), and other localities, but you get the point.
Like much of America, we're a melting pot. Lots and lots of seventh generation folks who talk about the good old days. Lots and lots of transplants and imports bringing fresh new ideas and unreasonable expectations. Red. Blue. Purple. Urban. Rural. Military. Civvies. The Southside. The Peninsula. History-loving traditionalists. New-style movers and shakers. A series of twains as permanent strangers. Disagreement. Judgment. Consternation.
Still a lovely place to live, but you kind of need to have an elbow-bending ritual and a friend with a boat to endure the politics of the place that prevent progress.
The 2019 Something in the Water festival felt like real change. A hometown kid gone big time was actually coming back and hanging with us. (Okay, so Bruce Smith hangs with us at the Dirty Buffalo, and I saw Allen Iverson sitting outside the Buffalo Wild Wings in Hampton waiting for his ride a few years back.) More importantly, Pharrell was investing in us.
And it was music and sun and fun and community. The week leading up to the festival had lots of programmatic offerings for at-risk youths and schools and neighborhoods near or below the poverty line. It was art and culture and fun and joy. It was beauty.
It was the beginning of a sea change for this city by the sea.
When I was in Indianapolis a couple of years ago, the ED of the city's Chamber of Commerce told me that he was stunned our region hadn't branded itself as a true music hub. I couldn't agree more. We are a wellspring of popular musicians from way back til today:
Ella Fitzgerald
Ruth Brown
Gene Vincent
Pearl Bailey
Clarence Clemons
Bruce Hornsby
Seven Mary Three (oh yeah)
Charlie Byrd
Juice Newton
Robert Cray
Gary U.S. Bonds
Steve Earle
Les Coole (you knew that was coming)
And Pharrell, Missy, Timbaland, Chad Hugo, and Pusha T, of course. Why wouldn't we market this? Pharrell was going to be a gateway to a new image, and a new future.
Remember when I said we started tagging ourselves as The 757? Honest to god, I heard more than one regional leader say we needed to pick that moniker because Pharrell wanted it. Wait, what?
But that happened. And soon thereafter the State Corporation Commission announced that we would be getting a new area code down here. 948 on top of the 757. Whoops-a-daisy . . . whoops-a-daisy.
No worries, we were heading in the right direction. And a music festival, of all things, would be the catalyst for regional reinvention!
Except for one thing. Two things. Three things.
COVID-19. The pandemic neutralized the 2020 Something in the Water. And the 2021 version as well. My daughters got tickets to the 2020 fest as Christmas gifts. No refund, they simply kicked the can down the road and said, "See you next year, same time, same place!"
$$$. Word on the street was that Pharrell took a bath on expenses to put the festival on, and that it might not be sustainable. Ruh-roh.
A tragedy made worse. In March of 2021, a young Black man was shot and killed by police in Virginia Beach. He happened to be Pharrell's cousin. I don't know enough to render a judgment, but when the City investigation exonerated the officer, shocking no one, a bit of hell broke loose. And Pharrell severed ties with his hometown, yanking the festival away and sending an open letter to the city, mentioning "toxic energy." He took his ball and went away from home.
Whoops-a-daisy . . . whoops-a-daisy.
There it went. As did the dream. Unity fading. Community returning to its permanently fractured status.
Next week, Virginia Beach is expected to pull out of the local economic development alliance in a move seemingly unimportant, but one that speaks volumes about the "my town over your town, fuck the region" mentality that continues to grow. The Virginia Beach-raised governor has won about as many points with regular denizens as he scored in his much-hyped college basketball career. We are sliding quickly and inexorably back into the mud of low tide.
And the music hub? Eh. All I know is that when our local music venue the Norva opened its doors after two years of pandemic void, there was a much-hyped first act to hit their stage. Limp Bizkit. Wait, what?
So hey, DC, enjoy our festival.It's June 17-19, coinciding with Juneteenth. It's on the mall. The "water" is now the reflecting pool, judging by the amended logo. A handful of the 2019 acts are back, but there are a lot of artists I don't know. Probably good stuff, though. It's not cheap, though.
Oh . . . also . . . I didn't much care for this tidbit I saw on the site. For $50 one-way or $95 round-trip, they offer:
Local Shuttle: We are so happy to be offering direct shuttle bus service from Virginia Beach, VA to Washington, D.C for Something in the Water Music and Arts Festival 2022. It just wouldn't be the same without you!
I gotta say, uh . . . go fuck yourselves. It is without us. You bailed on us. Maybe for valid reasons. But don't throw us that bone wrapped in olive branches and piss on us and tell us it's raining and expect us to lap it up. You're done? So are we.
Oh, and just so you readers know, "The 2022 LOYALTY PRESALE ends today at 10pm." Maybe not a word we want to throw around when it comes to this particular event.
We had our hopes built on something that proved as solid as the coffee table Matt Foley landed on.
As the site’s media grump, I’m about up to here with national reporters gathering vital information on our
leaders and our systems, and stowing it for months awaiting some blockbuster book release.
The latest addition to the library is from a pair of New York Times reporters, Jonathan Martin and Alex Burns. Their upcoming book, “This Will Not Pass,” is a deep dive into the 2020 election, Donald Trump’s actions during his last days in office, the Jan. 6 insurrection, and the early days of the Biden administration.
It’s undoubtedly well reported and sourced, and it’s already caused ripples within Republican circles. House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy said that sections in which he was reported to call on the President to resign after Jan. 6 and was critical of Trump were false. After which audio was leaked of him saying exactly that. Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell reportedly told advisors post-Jan. 6 that “the Democrats are going to take care of the son of a bitch for us,” referring to Trump’s second impeachment trial, and “if this isn’t impeachable, I don’t know what is.” After which McConnell and most of his Republican colleagues voted not to impeach.
Look, I’m guessing that Martin and Burns didn’t get information in real time. It likely took months to gather documentation and to verify from sources. But they certainly knew about it long before the book’s pub date. And I’d argue that they should have reported what they could ASAP. It’s not only their job, but their duty – to citizens and to the republic at large.
This wasn’t some insider policy debate that the principals are trying to massage, or an innocent what-I-saw-at-the-White House travelogue. This was a president trying to subvert a free and fair election and to remain in power, enabled by one of the nation’s two major political parties. You report that when you know it, not when you have 400 pages of material. Hell, the book subtitle spells out its importance: Trump, Biden and the Battle for America’s Future.
Burns and Martin have plenty of company. ABC national correspondent Jonathan Karl’s “Betrayal” came out late last year. In it, he quoted Attorney General Bill Barr that Trump’s repeated claims of election fraud were “bullshit.” Washington Post reporters Carol Leonnig and Philip Rucker co-wrote two books, “A Very Stable Genius” and “I Alone Can Fix It,” the latter about Trump’s final year in office after he sat down with them for an interview at Mar-a-Lago.
And then there’s Bob Woodward, the Post editor and investigative Hall of Famer who’s written three books about Trump, two himself and the most recent, “Peril,” with fellow Post reporter Robert Costa about the 2020 election, Jan. 6 and the Biden inauguration. I’ve banged on Woodward in this space, when his book “Rage” came out in the fall of 2020. Trump admitted that he knew COVID was far more serious than he let on during the winter and early spring of 2020, but downplayed the severity because he didn’t want it to hurt him politically or tank financial markets. Once COVID death tolls began to spike, Woodward could have reported what he knew and perhaps affected pandemic response decisions and potentially saved lives. Instead, he sat on the information until the book came out.
It isn’t as if Trump lies, dysfunction and competence are revelations. There was plenty of daily reporting in the past five years. I’m under no illusion that any of it will change minds. Most of us have reached conclusions about Trump and the present state of our politics. But anything that further opens the curtain to the words and actions of our leaders is not only valuable but necessary.
The nation’s framers thought enough of a free press to preserve it in the First Amendment to the Constitution. The press should hold up its end of the bargain, and not just to make a buck from a book.
This one slipped past me in February, not sure why. I'm usually far more prompt about all things Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. No matter . . . the induction announcement is in a couple of weeks, so there's still time. For me to tell you about it, for you to vote.
The following nominees were announced as the pool of candidates for Rock Hall inclusion this year:
Beck
Pat Benatar
Kate Bush
Devo
Duran Duran
Eminem
Eurythmics
Judas Priest
Fela Kuti
MC5
New York Dolls
Dolly Parton
Rage Against the Machine
Lionel Richie
Carly Simon
A Tribe Called Quest
Dionne Warwick
Whom do you like?
I'll tell you whom the Hall doesn't like: The MC5. This is their sixth (6th) nomination. And I doubt they get in now, unless the RnRHoF opens a side door for them. Early influence or something.
Dolly Parton is the talk of the lot. She graciously bowed out of her nomination, saying she didn't feel she'd earned the right to be in this HoF and that she didn't want to split votes. And then the Hall said sorry, but we're still including you. Way to go, people.
If I were picking, here's my ballot.
Beck
Pat Benatar
Devo
Duran Duran
Eminem
Judas Priest
Rage Against the Machine
A Tribe Called Quest
But I don't get a vote . . . wait a minute, I do! So do you! Every day! Go here and cast a ballot once daily.
Below are my predictions. I had last year's class pegged for the most part, but I don't have as good a bead this go-around. Why's that, you ask?
Dolly Parton may well get the nod, anyway. Stupid.
This pool has very little ethnic diversity, so Dionne Warwick and Lionel Richie's chances improve. They're both solid picks, but (a) it seems like Diana Ross would get in first, even though she sucks and the Hall is still pissed she blew them off when the Supremes were inducted in '88 (though that wasn't the worst performance that night) and (b) Richie minus his killer Commodores work is slightly thin. But you never know.
This pool has very little gender diversity, so Warwick's and Pat Benatar's chances improve. I love Pat Benatar, and she's hit for hit with Mellencamp, who got in 15 years ago. (Including what tune they both recorded for a hit? Answers below.) Anyway, women are finally starting to get their due in the Hall, and that helps her. But you never know.
Rage has a super thin catalog, but they were a force to be reckoned with, once upon a time. Oh, and Tom Morello is on the nominating committee. Interesting.
Eminem is a lock. Would the Hall dare usher in two hip-hop acts? They did last year . . . sort of. Jay-Z was inducted, as was LL . . . through the side door: The Award for Musical Excellence shall be given to artists, musicians, songwriters and producers whose originality and influence creating music have had a dramatic impact on music. G:TB readers know how I feel about that bullshit. So maybe Tribe gets in. Front door, please. We shall see, Z.
My locks include the aforementioned Slim Shady plus Beck, and Duran Duran, surprisingly. They have the catalog, the staying power, the fan base, and the hair. Rob agrees with me.
Good morning, Sodom and Gomorrah. Good morning, sinners. No, that wasn't your radio set on the blink again.
While that Big Audio Dynamite lyric struck me as appropriate for some weird reason, here's another multicultural band with a fitting song to help you celebrate today. Read along!
And here's the quintessential scene from the quintessential bad brothers of bong. And oldie but a so very goodie.
Rob asked for filler...Rob asks, Rob receives. Image taken just a bit ago here at the office lavatory - shared by those "doing business" on the 6th floor. I'm happy to inform that the subject of the photo is not a co-worker.
Discuss! Note - I was doing a #1 at the adjacent urinal.
Not to mix secular pleasures with a weekend of somber religious observation while also using words from the wrong holiday, but I bring you glad tidings of great joy, friends.
On May 13, one of the legendary sketch comedy shows of our time returns for its sixth season. A mere 27 years after its fifth.
Ladies and gentlemen, accompanied by Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet, I give you:
Around the horn in beer, because . . . Beer. It's what's for dinner.
Aggro-rocker Dave Mustaine is "looking for a new company to manufacture Megadeth Beer," according to an article on Blabbermouth.Net. Apparently a French Canadian brewery called Unibroue has produced a couple of brews in Megadeth's honor. One's called À Tout le Monde Ale, and the website says this:
This saison ale was brewed at the request of Dave Mustaine, lead singer of heavy metal band Megadeth. It uses a dry hopping technique and, to date, has the lowest alcohol content of any Unibroue beer. À Tout le Monde Ale honours the mutual passions and friendship of Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine and Unibroue’s Brewmaster Jerry Vietz.
"Lowest alcohol content" and heavy metal . . . two great tastes that go great together. À Tout le Monde, for those of you who didn't take four years of French in high school, means "to all the world," or "to everyone." How very peace and love, Dave.
They did another called Saison 13, which sounds only vaguely different than the original. The article details the red tape that has made Mustaine seek a new partner. But color me surprised that this partnership even existed.
Local Norfolk brewery SmartMouth, owned and operated by friends of mine, has been a top dog around here for the last 5-10 years. They raised a few eyebrows around here a few years back when they made a big to-do as they issued something called Saturday Morning Marshmallow IPA.
Sounds gross, doesn't it? Eh . . . it's actually far better than I thought it would be. Details are here.
It came out in limited release form before, but it's now on tap at the brewhouses and in tall boy cans for distribution. It's worth checking out if you happen upon it, or you can just come down and hang with the Whitdog and I'll snag you some.
Here's the write-up:
If you can recall weekends of watching cartoons while you separated the colorful little marshmallows from your favorite box of cereal, then this brew is for you. We tossed pounds of marshmallows into this batch (toasting some for flavor), then added loads of citrusy and tropical, fruity hops. The result: nostalgically ridiculous.
Definitely odd.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And finally, you probably should have figured that a Maryland brewing company would come up with this offering at some point, right?
This West Coast Double IPA packs a punch. Citrus and pine notes come together in a higher ABV beer that sneaks up on you. Though it doesn’t come from the west side of Baltimore, we feel like we should warn you……Omar’s Comin’!!
This was released last year by Smoketown Brewing in Frederick, MD, and yep, it's called Omar Comin' (Or Omar's Comin'!, depending on where it's printed. Can says the former.)
Seems like this should be more dangerous than 8.4 ABV, even though that packs a punch. I doubt that it will take aim at unseating, say, the King of Beers, but if you do come at the king . . . well, you know.
They should shelve this one for a while at the brewery. Just to have a campaign that reads:
“Spread the word, darling. Omar back.”
Enjoy your beer drinking escapades, and be careful out there. Until the next time...
Excellently diverse selections sure to delight you regardless of your preference in things whimsical.
I started this post as a spinoff of the venerable Fashion is Stupid recurring bit because I came across a story in The Washington Post that was tailor-made for a Food is Stupid take. Old Bay is, let's be honest, okay. It's perfect on crabs (and on crab-flavored potato chips) and pretty good in a Bloody Mary. It's a bit overrated otherwise. That didn't stop the big marketing brains at Old Bay from going one step too far and creating this:
None for me, thanks.
Very close to home, though, I found something that checks a lot of boxes for me. Dynasty Brewing was started in Ashburn, Virginia, just a few miles down the road from my house. About a year ago, they opened an outpost that's almost literally in my back yard, tucked off a side street in downtown Leesburg. I was there celebrating the launch of a buddy's collaboration with Dynasty when I heard angel choirs, saw bright lights, and was drawn to this menu option.
Tiny. Dictator. Bourbon. Barrel. Aged. Stout. I mean, come on. 13.7% ABV, chocolatey and boozy, and now a permanent resident of my beer fridge. Got one in hand as I type this (so excuse any mishtakes). I may have to get the logo tattooed on my person.
Speaking of tattooed, a quick update about the official Senate candidate of Gheorghe: The Blog. John Fetterman is the clear polling frontrunner for the Democratic nomination in the Pennsylvania U.S. Senate race. The former President* and persistent threat to democracy just endorsed TV doctor and obvious quack Mehmet Oz in the Republican primary. The hulking, plainspoken everyman Fetterman would mop the floor with that fraud in a debate. Please make it so.
"When I was in high school, they loved it," she says. "They're like, 'Oh, you're cute; you work really hard' ... But when you get in the professional world and you're outpacing people and you're doing things different, then it becomes a competition and they don't appreciate it. I've heard it all, and this is very typical: 'Are you just trying to overdo it because you're a woman.' No, motherf---er. This is how I am."
That's a quote from Tampa Tarpons manager Rachel Balkovec. She made history this week by becoming the first woman to work as the full-time manager of a Major League Baseball-affiliated team. Her Tarpons won their first game, 9-6, over the Lakeland Flying Tigers on Friday. The Tarpons are 2-1 after taking the rubber match over Lakeland today in Single-A Florida State League action. I commend to you the ESPN article linked above. Balkovec is an impressive human. I'm the closest I've ever been to purchasing gear that's associated with the New York Yankees.
And last, but most certainly not least, allow me to wish a Happy Squirrel Week to all who celebrate.
I have finally figured out how to turn rob and Dave into Build-the-Wall, anti-immigration, anti-globalization, pro-isolation, full-throated Trumpists: the Joro spider.
That's a little one. They can be up to 4 inches across. The Joro spider, or Trichonephila clavata to the cognoscenti, is indigenous to Asia but a bunch of them snuck into a cargo freighter and wound up in Georgia. According to the Washington Post, they tolerate cold weather and are migrating north, towards Leesburg and eventually Highland Park. Here's an entomologist's take:
You'll know they're in your neighborhood when you start seeing giant yellow cobwebs on your power lines.
Apparently you will also encounter them while riding your bike, riding a horse, skateboarding, running, walking, really just doing anything outside--you will walk into one of their giant webs and the spider that lives in it will land on your face. They are big and venomous, but don't worry! Their mandibles are typically too small to pierce human skin, except for the big females' mouths, and their venom is irritating but not deadly. You will survive the bite, if not the ensuing heart attack.
There's more! They can spin a web like a parachute to catch the wind and fly for miles across the land.
On the plus side, they serve as an additional food source for native birds, and will help control other invasive species like the (dreaded) spotted lanternfly.
Bruce Springsteen wrote "Hungry Heart" for the Ramones. Which is just awesome. But then he thought he'd go ahead and keep it. And record it. And crush it. Check out this kick ass 1980 version of it.
David Bowie offered Ian Hunter's band Mott the Hoople his song "All the Young Dudes." You know, geniuses like these two guys (and Prince) can do that, what with all the great spare tracks they have lying around. Here's the thing: he first offered them "Suffragette City," and they said, "No thanks, what else you got?" Cheeky little bastards. So they took his second option and made a Top 10 hit out of it. Bowie's unreal.
You can hear the Bowie influence on this, well, in part because you can hear Bowie on it. He sang backup.
You know who covered this tune in 1990? Legendary producer Bruce Dickinson. Well, actually, bad ass Iron Maiden singer Bruce Dickinson. (He never produced, especially not "(Don't Fear) The Reaper" with Gene Frenkle.)
Anyway, Ian Hunter, Mott the Hoople's frontman, had a successful solo career you might know nothing about.
Or do you . . . not?
Perhaps you've heard the cheesy hair metal remake of this song that torched a bar it was so hot. Here's Ian Hunter's 1975 original.
He also was the original behind this song, which you might have heard co-opted by the Presidents of the USA and Drew Carey...
But wait! Hunter's "Cleveland Rocks" came out in 1979. But this song came out in 1977! What gives, dude? Which one is it???
Ian Hunter later said that the real song was the Cleveland version, and that the England version was to satisfy a record label who thought that Cleveland doesn't sell. (They may have had a point.)
Anyway, this next one doesn't have much to do with this theme, except that like Bowie and Hunter, Marc Bolan was a glam rock god. Gone before his time, but he squeezed some juicy stuff into his (2 weeks shy of) 30 years. As Bowie write and Hunter sang, "The television man is crazy / Saying we're juvenile delinquent wrecks / Man I need a TV when I've got T. Rex."
There's little I can show you more brilliant and intriguing than this one. If I've aired it before, please forgive. Take one part T. Rex superstar freakazoid and add in the piano playing superstar for the ages and oh yeah a dash of primo mulleted Fab Four drumming. Make it super weird and also make it one of my favorite T. Rex tunes. (The Femmes did a nice cover in the '80s.)
Hard not to watch.
You won't fool the children of the revolution, aka the gheorghies...
Now ya know.
Until the next time, listen well and learn a little "useless knowledge," as my father calls it.
...or my birthday, or some other reason to do some shopping.
Well, we missed an opportunity. Months ago, the Gheorghe roster agreed that we would try to have a summit at the Washington Wizards game on March 27. While a Sunday night seems strange for a get-together with out-of-town friends, there was a singular occasion for which we would congregate.
March 27 was Gheorghe Mureșan Bobblehead Night.
As part of the year's promotions, the team produced bobbleheads for what they were calling The Big Three: Wes Unseld, Manute Bol, and our buddy Ghiță.
Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Life and other crap gets in the way.
Fear not, collectors of things silly and sentimental! The market for these products is wide open, and here's one avenue through which you can make the Big G bobblehead yours!
In which an actual professional journalist goes slumming on our beat and finds common cause.
At least they aren’t LSU. That’s about the most charitable assessment of William and Mary’s men’s basketball. After one of the most dismal seasons in program history, the Tribe has seen six players enter the transfer portal, severely testing the notion that “at least it can’t get any worse.”
Four of the top six scorers are gone, including 2021 CAA Rookie of the Year Connor Kochera, and those four played at least 24 minutes per game. A fifth logged 15 minutes a game. Two freshmen and two sophomores are among the departing, so a chunk of what appeared to be the future is out the door. Granted, it’s not as jarring as LSU losing 11 players to the portal and two more to the NBA Draft since Will Wade was fired, but for a program in the basement of a mid-level conference on a competitive uptick that just added several quality teams, the climb becomes much steeper.
Coach Dane Fischer and AD Brian Mann tried to fit the sow with a ball gown in a piece in the Newport News (Va.) Daily Press, my old rag. Mann said, “I still think that Coach Fischer is the right guy for the program and he’s got my full support. What I’m learning about this and hearing about this is that this is not a program in trouble. It’s not about a bad culture. It’s not about a poor student-athlete experience. (The transferring players) are making their own individual decisions. I think Dane has created and built a really strong culture and he cares deeply about our student-athletes. That means a lot to me.”
Fischer said, “The transfer portal is the new reality of college basketball,” and that he views the portal as a means to rebuild the roster. He said that he’s jazzed about the returning players and three incoming recruits. Because what else is he gonna say?
Fischer is correct about the transfer portal as the new reality. Players are emboldened by the new rule that permits immediate eligibility after a first transfer, without sitting out a year. More than 1,000 players have entered the portal so far this spring, which means there’s plenty of options for teams to fill gaps and rebuild. But how many are interested in a program that just finished 5-27, even with ample minutes available? More important, how many qualify and would be a good fit in one of Division I’s more strenuous academic environments? How deftly can Fischer and his staff navigate the new normal?
The jury’s still out on whether Fischer can coach. By all accounts, he’s a quality, likeable chap. He inherited an NBA-level talent in Nathan Knight and the remnants of Tony Shaver’s final team in his first season – a team that, as constructed at the time, would have been a conference favorite and still won 21 games. There was predictable regression in Fischer’s second, pandemic-plagued year, and then this season’s face-plant, in which the Tribe won only four games against Division I opponents.
Which leads us to address the griffin in the room. There’s a through line from former AD Samantha Huge’s ego-driven ouster of Shaver in 2019 to W&M’s present predicament. There’s no way of knowing how Shaver would handle the transfer portal and the changing landscape of college hoops, or even if he would still be head coach three years later. Barring illness or catastrophe, it’s a safe bet that he’d still occupy the Big Chair, if only to continue what he built. He developed a system that made Tribe hoops competitive and relevant after years in the wilderness. He brought continuity to the program, critical for sustained success at a place such as William and Mary, which rarely lands top-tier recruits and for which there are no quick fixes. When he was canned, several players and recruits bolted, interrupting the talent and development pipeline.
Fischer hasn’t picked up the mantel. Not to say he won’t or is incapable, but his and every head coach’s job is more difficult than just two years ago. Coaches must retain as well as recruit, that is re-recruit their own players, and keep one eye on the transfer portal for potential help and to replace departures, in addition to the usual X-ing and O-ing their way past conference rivals. There’s a Wild West component to the portal, as coaches and programs figure it out. Mid-major leagues are suddenly farm systems for Power 5 conferences. A lot of kids who average 17 points per game for a mid-major are convinced that they can play for Michigan State. And there’s certainly tampering, with Power 5 programs reaching out through back-channels to gauge kids’ interest in transferring up. Many P5 programs would rather fill gaps with kids who’ve already played a year or two of college ball than with a high school recruit. On the flip side, a lot of players at P5 programs who don’t think they’re getting enough run bolt for what they believe are better opportunities rather than persevere. And in William and Mary’s case, sometimes players are just looking for something else, whether it’s better than 5-27 or being closer to home or simply a different environment. This isn’t an old guy lament. I’m all for players having more freedom and for being able to make money from their abilities. While the degree of roster churn is probably greater than most envisioned, it’s simply another result within a microwave society.
I observed a lot of sludge in Tribe basketball over the past 35 years. Good coaches, smart coaches struggled to gain footing. Success was often fleeting. Backslides were jarring. Shaver came closest to consistent success, and it even took him years to hit upon the right mix of playing style and recruiting to that style. Fischer says, publicly at least, that the transfer portal provides opportunities for the program. Spinning it positively is understandable, since he isn’t in a position to say, “it stinks,” and then turn to a potential transfer and say, “but not for you.” The portal feels like one more hurdle for a program that has plenty already.
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