The happy warrior of jazz and hoops

Those who look down at the genre of smooth jazz often deride it as "happy jazz" as if to say that it doesn't challenge the listener.

You can be sure that Wayman Tisdale, who died today at the age of 44, didn't take such an appellation as an insult. Tisdale, an accomplished bassist, did everything happy, from playing smooth jazz to playing power forward at Oklahoma and in the NBA.

Tisdale, the all-time leading scorer and rebounder in Sooner history and a three-time All-American, was a gifted offensive player, though he had the misfortune of playing professionally during the same era as Charles Barkley and Karl Malone, two more celebrated players at his position.

Still, in a 12-year NBA career, Tisdale averaged 15.3 points a game for his career that included stints in Indiana, Sacramento and Phoenix. He won a gold medal in 1984 as a member of the American Olympic team and selected to the College Basketball Hall of Fame last month.

Off the court, Tisdale released eight albums and hit No.1 on the contemporary jazz charts three years ago with his "Way Up!" After he was diagnosed with a cancerous cyst two years ago, Tisdale released "Rebound," to mark his battle with illness.

Tisdale was the definition of a happy warrior and his presence and genial nature will be supremely missed.

Quick rant: While it was completely consistent with his nature for Tisdale to give Blake Griffin permission to wear his previously retired No.23 jersey, someone at Oklahoma should have told Griffin the number was unavailable. Now that Tisdale is gone, that number should go back in the rafters in his honor never to be worn again.

Cautionary tale

President Obama's reversal of an administration position regarding the release of photos of abused detainees ought to provide concrete proof to Americans on both sides of the aisle that it's folly to project either their fondest hopes or their worst nightmares onto this man or any elected official for that matter.

Perhaps because of the historic nature of Obama's election and because of the abject failure of the previous administration, people on the left of the political spectrum have ascribed all manner of miraculous talents and abilities to the new president. Meanwhile, conservatives have demonized Obama to a fare-thee-well, seeing him as the Antichrist come to life.

Neither is true, obviously, and Obama's flip-flop on allowing these photos to be seen is proof that he is a politician, no more and no less. His inclination is to do that which will cast his administration in the most favorable light for the largest bloc of the electorate.

To be sure, as someone who is left of center, I tend to agree with the overwhelming majority of Obama's agenda, and I wish those on the right would give him at least a minute to succeed or fail on his own merit. But, unlike a lot of my fellow liberals, I don't operate under any illusions about who Barack Obama is or what he's about.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday

 

So, anything happen while I was gone?

Yeah, I know; taking a seven month sabbatical from a blog isn't the smartest idea, especially when you're attempting to build a regular readership. My bad, and I'll address what I've been doing, for those who care, in a subsequent posting.

However, there's no better reason to pick up "Sports and the World @ Large" than to mark the 58^th birthday of an American icon, Steveland Hardaway Judkins or Steveland Hardaway Morris.

Regardless the name on his birth certificate, the name of the man he became, Stevie Wonder, is synonymous with the best traditions of service and principles, not to mention being the best damn popular musician this country has ever produced.

Listing Stevie's humanitarian accomplishments would take all day, and listing his contributions to the musical culture would go on for a week or more. The combination of the two makes him the most potent force for good in American popular culture.

And he's still musically relevant. My wife and I saw him last year on tour in Washington, and I was amazed not only at his staying power ( 2 ½ hours without an intermission) but also at how rich and full his voice is more than 45 years after he first burst on the scene as "Little Stevie Wonder."

Though I said listing his songs would take a lot of time, I do want to suggest that if you must own one of his tunes, and one only, it should be "As" (third song, fourth side of "Songs In The Key of Life"). It is a seven minute ode to the power of pure love, with a dazzling Herbie Hancock keyboard solo in the middle.

Brilliant.

Just like Stevie.

This week's Sports at Large script

Here's the script from this week's Sports @ Large, which airs each Monday at 5:30 Eastern time on WYPR in Baltimore, with a re-air Tuesday morning during Maryland Morning. Please do enjoy!

The calendar says that we’ve officially turned the page from summer to autumn, and no one in the American sports culture should be happier to witness the passing of one season into another than Josh Howard. 

Chances are, unless you’re a big fan of Atlantic Coast Conference basketball that you really don’t know Josh Howard, and right about now, that’s not such a bad thing…for Howard. In college, Howard was a first team All-America at Wake Forest. In 2003, he led the Demon Deacons to their first regular season title in 41 years, and Howard became the first player in nearly 30 years to be selected unanimously as Atlantic Coast Conference Player of the Year. 

The 6-foot-5 forward was drafted by the Dallas Mavericks and by his second season, had moved into the starting lineup. Howard has become one of the most versatile players in the NBA. Last year, his fifth in the league, Howard posted career highs in scoring and rebounding and seemed on the short track to superstardom, or at least widespread adoration. 

Then came this summer, when Howard couldn’t seem to get out of the way of his own two feet. That is, when he wasn’t planting one of them in his mouth. First, Howard had the temerity to decline an invitation to tryout for the United States Olympic team, saying he had other things to do this summer. In hindsight, Howard really should have gone to China. 

If he had, Howard might not have been around to get arrested for drag racing and driving 94 miles an hour in a 55 miles an hour zone. That round of allegedly juvenile and potentially fatal behavior followed Howard’s decision to throw himself a birthday party in April. The problem with the timing of the party was that the Mavericks were in the middle of a playoff series, and had just lost the critical fourth game of said series. 

Of course, Howard’s timing might have been explained by a comment he made earlier in the series, when he told a radio interviewer that he occasionally smokes marijuana, and that pot consumption among NBA players was, shall we say, high. If you want to tell tales on yourself, go ahead, but Howard had no business throwing his fellow players under the bus, even if there were munchies behind the tires. 

Howard’s summer of self-destruction was capped last week, when a video of him slurring the Star Spangled Banner during a charity flag-football game surfaced on You Tube. Apparently unsolicited, Howard turned to a camera during the Allen Iverson sponsored event and proclaimed that he didn’t celebrate the National Anthem because quote I’m black unquote, as well as working in an insult of Barack Obama.

As a black man myself, I’m not sure precisely what to make of Josh Howard’s observations, except this: That anthem that he sneered at is the musical representation of the freedoms this country affords to its citizens. Among them are the rights to make millions of dollars playing a game, to behave boorishly to teammates and the public and to take a swipe at a song that salutes the free and the brave. Josh Howard may be one of those, but he certainly isn’t the other.

Inappropriate personnel moves

One of my wife’s guilty television pleasures is a show called “Bridezillas” which airs on the WE channel. It’s a reality show that shines a light on one or more prospective brides in the days leading up to their wedding.

I happen to despise this show, not out of some misogynistic hatred of women or out of disrespect for the tension that many women feel as their wedding approaches, but more out of a profound dislike of shows that appear to reward anti-social behavior. The point is, that if WE ever looked for someone to host a “Bridezillas” marathon, I would be the wrong person because I don’t like the show.

As I was watching the end of the WNBA playoff game between Detroit and Indiana Tuesday night on ESPN2, I heard the play-by-play announcer toss back to the studio to Nancy Lieberman and to a man named Erik Kuselias. For those who haven’t had the misfortune of hearing Kuselias work, he has hosted a NASCAR show on ESPN television, but is best known for hosting a radio show called “The Sports Bash,” which aired in the afternoon on ESPN radio.

During the course of that show, Kuselias, who reportedly is an attorney, appealed to the lowest common denominator by pushing every emotional button he could, insulting teams, players and fans at every turn. On more than one occasion I heard Kuselias spew invective about the legitimacy of both the WNBA and women’s basketball in general. He didn’t quite go for the standard male talk show putdown of women’s basketball, the one that insinuates that the sport isn’t worth watching because all the players are lesbians, but he came damned close.

You can imagine, then, my shock and bewilderment, then, to see Kuselias sitting at a desk hosting a women’s basketball telecast. Now, it may be possible that Kuselias has had some kind of transformation and has either become a fan of the sport, or at least tolerant, but I doubt it. More likely, this was just a chance to sharpen his hosting skills and before a prime time audience.

Look, I don’t expect most men to like or even appreciate women’s basketball, and that’s fine; different strokes and all that. But I sure as shootin’ don’t expect ESPN to put a man who has publicly expressed a disdain for the sport on the air hosting it. It’s as incongruous as having someone who dislikes the NFL host a Sunday football pregame show, or me hosting a “Bridezillas” marathon. 

Of fiancés and baby daddies

I don’t know Oakland Tribune columnist Tammerlin Drummond and, frankly, had never heard of her before stumbling onto her writing on the Romenesko site at Poynter Online.
However, her piece in last Wednesday’s paper is one of the most cogent and spot-on pieces on the gulf between how blacks and whites are seen in this country, and why the election of the first black president will only further discussion about racism and discrimination, not end it.
There’s nothing to be gained from beating up on Bristol Palin and Levi Johnston. They deserve to live their lives and raise their baby outside the prying eyes of the public. But their story shines an important light on the attitudes of many Americans on the smaller issue of teen pregnancies and the broader concept of how people of different ethnicities live.

The troubled Vince Young

Here's the script for the latest Sports @ Large essay, which aired in the customary Monday at 5:30 p.m. on WYPR-FM in Baltimore.

In the American sports culture, there are few crimes as heinous as being sensitive to criticism. And for football players, who are masculinity personified in the American ethos, the inability to brush off boos and brickbats is, in the minds of many, grounds for turning in their guy membership card, the one that ascribes honor and machismo and valor to the holder.

Until the last offseason, Tennessee Titans quarterback Vince Young was fully vested in the Man’s Man Society. In college, he marched the Texas Longhorns down the field twice in the final minutes of the 2006 Rose Bowl against defending BCS champion Southern California.

Young scrambled into the end zone on each drive to give Texas what passes for a national title. He was propelled into the No.3 slot of the 2006 draft, to the Titans. In his rookie season, Young went to the Pro Bowl all-star game and was named Rookie of the Year. Last year, Young became only the 11th quarterback taken in one of the first two rounds over the past 25 seasons to lead his team to the playoffs.

However, Young has been anything but smooth in Nashville, throwing erratically at times, and proving to be occasionally injury-prone. Those are hardly crimes, but the resulting criticism from fans and the media threw Young for a loop. The quarterback reportedly considered retirement in the offseason, but ultimately decided to return.

Move ahead to last Sunday, in the Titans season opener against Jacksonville. Young threw two interceptions and was roundly booed by the home crowd, which apparently bothered him so that he initially declined to go back into the game. He eventually did, but sprained a ligament in his left knee which will keep him out of action for 2 to 4 weeks.

The next day, Young missed a scheduled MRI test on his knee, this after his mother, Felicia, was quoted in the local paper saying that her son was tired of the negativity and that he was quote hurting inside and out, end quote. The team apparently dispatched a psychologist to Young’s house.

Later that day, Titans coach Jeff Fisher, told that Young was in an emotional state and had left home without his cell phone, but with an unarmed gun, called authorities. The police sent an unmarked SWAT unit out and put crisis negotiators on call, only to find that Young had gone to a friend’s house to watch Monday Night Football.

By Thursday, Young had declared that he just needed a day and a half to get through a rough patch and to learn how to deal with adversity, saying, quote, When it happens again, I’ll know how to handle it. I just want everyone in the world to know I am fine, unquote.

Does Vince Young need to do a little growing up? Sure, but then, so do we who are sports fans. We need to advance past hero worship of people in uniforms and start seeing athletes as mere flesh and blood humans. Humans, who laugh in triumph, but occasionally mourn, and, yes, cry in failure. After all, the measure of a person is not how they expend their feelings, but what they do once the emotion of the moment clears.