Today is Thanksgiving and we traditionally give thanks to things big, small and less important we sports fans have enjoyed over the year. But during a year of worry, uncertainty and total disruption of the sports calendar we’ll focus this Thanksgiving Day column on some recent stories of greater importance than we usually do.
News Item: Thanks for Cracking That Glass Ceiling
The glass ceiling wasn’t only broken in politics with the election of Kamala Harris to be Vice President of the United States in November. It also happened in baseball, where Kim Ng becamebaseball’s first ever female general manager. Her resume includes being senior VP of baseball operations for MLB and stints as assistant GM for the Dodgers and Yanks, where a professional relationship was developed with current Marlins owner Derek Jeter. And with never-played stat geeks running teams all over baseball, the folks who say she shouldn’t get it because she didn’t play at a high level have no leg to stand on. So thanks for her well-earned progress, because it might help Concord’s Becky Bonner, the Orlando Magic VP of Player Development, get the same chance someday.
News Item: Thanks For No Harden Days and Nights at the Garden
This isn’t a 100-percent thing just yet, so it’s said with crossed fingers. But yeah-hoo news reports of the Celtics trying to trade for disgruntled Houston Rocket James Harden didn’t pan out. Don’t take it to mean I don’t know how talented the beard is. He’s the most effortless scorer I’ve ever seen. But he is also the anti-Larry Bird in that no one gets better playing with him because he only gives it up when all avenues to get his own shot are exhausted, usually with little time left on the shot clock. Plus, we’d be hearing green teamers defending the constant whining for calls, flopping on almost every shot, and that he doesn’t even try on defense by saying look at the stats he puts up. I say look at all the rings those stats have produced. Biggest of all is it would’ve turned me off the Celtics, because it would show Danny Ainge and the brass learned nothing from the Kyrie Irving experience, which showed you don’t win with ball hogs and selfish people. So thanks to the basketball gods for this averted catastrophe.
News Item: Thanks To Mr. Celtic
The late Tommy Heinsohn was an acquired taste for me. My first encounters with him came when this (then) Knicks fan moved behind enemy lines to go to college when he was Celtics coach, during the only time those teams were ever equal competitive rivals. And if you think he was rough on officials broadcasting games, you should have seen him on the sidelines. Also, he did too much cheerleading broadcasting Celtics games for me even after I’d become a fan. But then I kinda sorta worked with him at Fox Sports Net while doing a TV show on the C’s, where I kiddingly told him I sports hated him when he was the Celtics coach. Predictably that didn’t go over too well and I’m not sure why I thought it would. But it started to change while doing a story with him to promote an upcoming showing and sale of his paintings. He explained he did it every day, which was obvious as the pond with the weeping willow tree I saw amazingly morphed into a mirror image on his canvas. But what stuck with me from that day was the story he told about how he became a painter. It happened after his parents gave him a kit while growing up in New Jersey during World War II because no kids would play with him because he was German. The gruff Tommy started to fade as he told his poignant story and a different one emerged. After another story followed, this time on onetime teammate Bill Russell, showed how genuine his love for the Celtics was, my appreciation of him grew. The result was getting a growing kick out of the antics during games to finally missing him on broadcasts as his health held him out in recent years. So thanks to Tommy because after an unbroken 64-year string of devotion as a player, coach, broadcaster and team cheerleader he earned the title of Mr. Celtic. RIP.
News Item: Thanks for the Memories
It seemed like the baseball deaths just kept coming in 2020. With 91 down as I wrote this, there are far too many to name. Among them was all-name teamer Biff Pocoroba and maligned symbol of the Yankees dynasty decline Horace Clarke. There was also non-Famer Yankee Don Larsen, who delivered a Hall-worthy performance by hurling the only World Series perfect game in 1956 vs. Brooklyn. First among the baseball elites migrating to Mt. Olympus was the great Tiger Al Kaline, always a favorite because my first baseball mitt was a Kaline signature model. There was also Tom Seaver, the symbol of the Miracle 1969 Mets and eternal youth for New York baseball fans. Bob Gibson, the fiery competitor who didn’t need closers to finish games because he knew how to battle and win, especially in the World Series. Cardinals teammate Lou Brock – 3,000 hits, all those stolen bases and a World Series spark plug with nine hits vs. the Yanks in 1964 and 12 more against the Sox in ’67. Joe Morgan left us after always playing bigger than his pint-sized build said he should. Lastly was my guy Whitey Ford, the crafty Yankees lefty with the highest winning percentage ever, who passed Babe Ruth’s record for consecutive scoreless World Series innings in 1961 vs. Cincy, two weeks after teammate Roger Maris broke his single-season record of 60 homers – to which he said, “It was a tough year for the Babe.” RIP to all those greats from my youth and thanks for the memories.
Happy Thanksgiving to all.