The Warriors have a team led by veterans who’ve won NBA titles – Curry, Draymond, Klay, Iguadala – and a handful of talented young players. Really young players. James Wiseman (21, second overall draft pick), Jonathan Kuminga (20, seventh overall draft pick), and Moses Moody (20, 14th overall draft pick). This story is about the challenge of developing young players while still in the window of the established players leading the team to another championship.
From the young guys’ perspective, the challenge is being a team player while also resisting the urge to get comfortable as a role player. As Moody puts it, per Scott Cacciola:
“It’s hard to keep the right head space. But I also don’t want to hide those emotions from myself, saying that I’m OK with staying on the bench. I don’t want to be OK with it because I’m not OK with it. I want to play. I always want to play.”
While the young guys have the priceless opportunity to be a part of an organization that wins, and have the incredible resources to develop, there’s nothing that takes the place of NBA minutes, and those are limited on a team trying to make another run.
This anecdote from Steve Kerr was pretty fascinating, especially considering the respective ages of Moody, Kuminga, and Wiseman. The team was in New Orleans and Kerr rested a bunch of the older guys, which freed up minutes for the young dudes. The Warriors lost by 45. After the game, Kerr had dinner with Curry and Green. He asked them how long they had been in the league before they felt comfortable winning games in the NBA.
“Draymond said it was his third year, and Steph said it was his fourth year,” Kerr recalled. “And you’re talking about two guys who had a lot of college experience, who played deep into the N.C.A.A. tournament and played games that mattered.”
Kerr crunched the numbers. Curry spent three seasons at Davidson, while Green played four seasons at Michigan State. So, from the time they left high school, it took both about seven years before they understood the ins and outs of the N.B.A., seven years before they were experienced enough to win when it mattered.
Moody played one season of college basketball. Wiseman played three games at Memphis, and Kuminga played zero college ball. The paths to the NBA are more varied now, but staying there takes further development and experience. Easier said than done on a winning team. Kids don’t win very often in the NBA.
So what’s the solution? The only reason Jordan Poole was able to develop for the Warriors and get a season of real NBA minutes was because Klay and Steph were hurt Poole’s rookie year, allowing him the leash to learn and make mistakes on a team going nowhere (just for that year). Barring more injuries to the championship core, Moody, Wiseman, and Kuminga are going to get minutes by earning them. Plus, the Warriors might need to make a trade to get some more momentum going in a season that’s seen them sputter in a totally getable Western Conference. Wiseman, Moody, and Kuminga – at least some combo of them – would be in any trade for a vet. It’s damn near impossible to develop and win at the same time.
Last week, California Assemblymember Chris Holden introduced a bill that sent quiet shockwaves through college athletics. The bill, if passed, would require California universities, private and public, to pay 50% of team revenue to its players in each sport that brings in twice as much revenue as it spends on athletic scholarships. Folks, college sports fans are freaking out. But I think they are wrong to do so.
In 2018 or 2019, when California first began moving toward legislation to allow for NIL payments to college athletes, a lot of people said it wouldn’t work. People said the California legislature would kill college sports in California because the NCAA would declare players ineligible. We saw the same arguments we are seeing today; essentially, the legislature is stupid. I disagreed, arguing that California passing a law like this would do the opposite – it would push other states to follow suit and the NCAA would be forced to change its rule. Ultimately, I was correct.
As for this bill, keep in mind it was just introduced. We have no idea what it will look like if and when it passes. More importantly, a similar bill was introduced last year and failed. People should keep those two thoughts in mind before getting worked up.
That said, I think a very interesting discussion could be had about this bill. Fans are instead declaring that it won’t work, or can’t work, or would kill college football.
Why can’t it work, though?
First, reading the bill and not tweets or even media reports about it are important. For example, it’s not exactly 50% of “revenue” as being reported. It’s 50% of revenue after subtracting the team’s “aggregate athletic grants.” That is, the amount it spends on scholarships (I said above that there could be changes. I could very easily see the “revenue” figure being further reduced by subtracting out other costs in future revisions; e.g., student meals ($895,932 in FY 2021) and medical expenses and insurance ($230,958 in FY 2021), cost of housing, etc.).
Using Cal’s FY 2021 financials, this works out to $115,575 per year, per football player*. $25,000 of that $115,575 per year would be paid to the player each year. The remainder would be put into a fund to be paid to the player upon graduation. That’s $90,575.29 per player, per year. Over a 4-year playing career, that is $362,301.15. At $115,575 per player per year, Cal would be spending $9,823,899.50 on its 85 scholarship football players.
So where would the money come from? I have one idea. Cal spent $8,860,768 in football coaching salaries and a further $1,964,425 on support football staff/admin compensation. Combined, Cal spends 55% of its football revenue (after subtracting scholarships) on football coaching and staff/admin salaries. Does that seem fair? It doesn’t to me. Coaches get 55% of revenue and players get zero? And that doesn’t include all the AD bloat, too. In FY 2021, Cal paid $19,667,444 to “non-program specific” support/admin. Does that seem fair? It doesn’t to me. Texas A&M has guaranteed Jimbo Fisher almost $100 million dollars, even if he’s rired, while his players get zero. Does that seem fair? It doesn’t to me.
Keep in mind: 50% of revenue, or close to it, is shared to players in the NBA (49-51%), NFL (48.5%), and MLB (48.5-51.5%). So, why would this be impossible in college football or college basketball?
To all those claiming this would kill the non-revenue sports…I don’t agree. To those claiming it will mean schools will de-emphasize revenue sports…I don’t agree. To those claiming the funds aren’t there…I don’t agree. The answer to the question of where this money can come from is pretty obvious, and it’s not by killing non-revenue sports. It’s from coaching and admin salaries. The money is there – it’s just going to the wrong place.
The coaching salary arms race has gotten completely out of control. Some coordinators now get paid over two million dollars per year. Position coaches now routinely make over one million per year. Contrary to those who claim the drafter of this bill is an idiot, it should be noted that he played basketball at San Diego state. I think he knows exactly what he’s doing. Just like in 2018, I think this is a bill designed to effectuate widespread change. I think it will lead to team’s necessarily reducing coaching salaries and likely will lead to player unionization and a collective bargaining agreement. I could easily see the NCAA codifying these same provisions, or something similar. The coaching arms race will stop and I think college football will be better off because of it.
That being said, I doubt this bill passes. But as I said at the outset, I think it sparks an interesting and much-needed conversation. The current model is not sustainable or fair. I think it’s good that the California legislature is discussing ways to fix it. -TOB
*Here’s the math:
Cal FY 2021 Football Revenue: $23,335,758.00 Cal FY 2021 Football Scholarship Cost: $3,687,959.00 Difference: $19,647,799.00 Divided in Half: $9,823,899.50 Divided by 85 Scholarship Players: $115,575.29
The Baseball Hall of Fame No Longer Sparks Joy, Which Sucks
Every winter, baseball fans prepare to hear who the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA) has elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame. When I was a kid, I would get very excited for that day – most of the players were before my time, but I enjoyed learning about them. Most years, the writers elected two to three players and everyone had fun. Here’s a list of players elected by the BWBWAA from 1990-2005:
1989: Johnny Bench, Carl Yastrzemski 1990: Joe Morgan, Jim Palmer 1991: Rod Carew, Fergie Jenkins, Gaylord Perry 1992: Rollie Fingers, Tom Seaver 1993: Reggie Jackson 1994: Steve Carlton 1995: Mike Schmidt 1997: Phil Niekro 1998: Don Sutton 1999: George Brett, Nolan Ryan, Robin Yount 2000: Carlton Fisk,Tony Perez 2001: Kirby Puckett, Dave Winfield 2002: Ozzie Smith 2003: Gary Carter, Eddie Murray 2004: Dennis Eckersley, Paul Molitor 2005: Wade Boggs, Ryne Sandberg 2006: Bruce Sutter 2007: Tony Gwynn, Cal Ripken Jr. 2008: Rich Gossage 2009: Rickey Henderson
Some of those names are huge, sure-thing Hall of Famers that made it in the first year or two of their eligibility. Others were more borderline and made it in on later ballots. But those debates were fun: Are Bruce Sutter and Goose Gossage Hall of Famers? If not, how can a reliever be a Hall of Famer? What about Harold Baines and the DH? What does it mean to be a Hall of Famer?
But 2009 or so is about the cut-off of when the Hall of Fame debates went from fun to good-lord-stab-me-in-the-eye. I won’t rehash the Steroid/Hall of Fame debate for like the tenth time in this website’s nearly-nine-years of existence (my position is well known). But I will say that the debate around the Hall has gone from fun to awful. I see these debates all the time, some steroid-related, others not.
For example, how can writers keep out some obvious HOF candidate players (most notoriously Bonds and Clemens) because they are suspected of steroid use, but vote for guys who failed steroid tests (David Ortiz)? Wherever you stand on the steroid/HOF debate, anyone being honest should agree that this was dumb.
And there’s the very-much related debate: how much does personality play into voting (Bonds and Clemens were not well-liked by the media, but David Ortiz was)? For example, Jeff Kent just failed to make the Hall of Fame in his final year on the ballot. He got only 46.5% of the vote, well shy of the 75% needed.
Kent is arguably a top three best hitting second baseman of all-time: most career home runs (by a wide margin), most career extra base hits, second in career SLG, third in career OPS, fifth in career WRC+. He even won an MVP. If a former MVP, top three all-time hitting second baseman can’t get to the Hall, how can any second baseman?
In contrast to Kent, the writers this year elected Scott Rolen. Rolen was a very good player and I am ok with him being in the HOF. But his career offensive numbers are nearly identical to Kent’s, and in most cases Kent’s were noticeably better. For example, Kent had 377 HRs to Rolen’s 317; Kent had 123 OPS+, Rolen had 122; Kent had a career batting average of .290, Rolen had .281; Kent had an .855 OPS, Rolen had the exact same. Kent had 60.1 offensive WAR, to Rolen’s 52.8.
So, if Rolen is in, why isn’t Kent? Rolen was a much better defenders than Kent – arguably the best third baseman of his generation, with eight Gold Gloves. But Gold Gloves awards are notoriously flawed and defense has rarely put someone over the top in voting – especially by such a wide margin over an otherwise equal player. Still, Rolen had 21.2 career defensive WAR, to Kent’s -0.1, although that number was a respectable 3.8 before the last four seasons of Kent’s career, from ages 37-40. Rolen retired after age 37 so didn’t have the opportunity for those numbers to tumble a bit as he got old.
So other than defense, what separates these two? How can we account for such a wide vote total spread between the two? Well, Rolen was very well liked by the media. Kent was a notorious red ass who was not well liked. In fact, the media seemed to like Barry Bonds, who they loathed, more than they liked Kent. Is that fair? I don’t think so.
Which makes the whole thing very frustrating as a fan. Too much importance is placed on the Hall of Fame, particularly by those voting. Voters are not keepers of a sacred order. They should take a hard look at who got in during the Hall’s early years and realize their standards are way too high. They need to ignore personal feelings and just pick the best players. Most of all, they need to lighten up and make this fun again. Please. I will lose my mind if Buster Posey doesn’t get into the HOF on the first or second ballot and I really don’t want to lose my mind. Please. -TOB
Golf Round-Up
There were two amusing stories in golf this week, neither of which struck me as needing a full write-up, but both of which made me laugh very hard. First, the funniest one involving Donald Effin Trump.
Trump hosted a Senior Club Championship at Trump International Golf Club in Palm Beach last week. It was a two day tournament – Saturday and Sunday. Trump missed the tournament Saturday, as he was attending a funeral. But Trump refused to be left out:
“Trump told tournament organizers he played a strong round on the course Thursday, two days before the tournament started, and decided that would count as his Saturday score for the club championship. That score was five points better than any competitor posted during Saturday’s first round.”
LOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL. “No problem,” said the guy who tried to execute a coup and declare himself President. “After all, I played a practice round on Thursday that no one saw and I played really well, so I’ll just use that *finger quotes* score.” He then said this:
Just imagining some MAGA idiot refreshing his Truth Social feed, reading that, and getting fired up for Trump is so funny.
The second story is also funny but a little more complicated. All you need to know is that last year, pro golfer Patrick Reed joined the Saudi-backed LIV Tour, along with a lot of other golfers. Reed later filed suit against the Golf Channel, alleging defamation. Apparently, Reed (through his attorneys) served fellow golfer Rory McIlroy with a deposition subpoena. This is pretty standard, but Reed’s subpoena was hand-delivered to Rory on Christmas Eve, at Rory’s house, as he celebrated with his family.
As a lawyer, I can see why this would be annoying. It may also not have been Reed’s fault, or even his attorneys. Generally you send your documents to a process server and tell them you want them to serve it. At that point they usually have carte blanche to serve it any way they can. Sometimes, the person they are looking to serve isn’t home the first time they arrive and they have to come back. But not everyone knows all this and assumes it was done strategically (which is possible). Rory particularly seems to have taken offense.
This week, Reed approached Rory at the driving range and appeared to try to be friendly. Real fugazi stuff. Rory wasn’t having it and ignored him. And then Reed showed his true colors, gently tossing a tee in Rory’s general direction:
Rory on blowing off Patrick Reed:
"I didn't see a tee coming my direction at all, but apparently that's what happened. And if roles were reversed and I'd have of thrown that tee at him, I'd be expecting a lawsuit."pic.twitter.com/thXPfvz5Kp
So stupid and childish. Not harmful, just dumb. It’s perfectly Patrick Reed. -TOB
Netflix’s Break Point Has Me Appreciating Roger, Rafa, and Novak Even More
Last year, I wrote about Roger Federer’s tennis retirement:
I’m not a tennis fan, really. I like tennis a lot. I enjoy it. I follow it via ESPN and news articles. But I rarely ever sit down and watch a tennis match. But when I do, it sure is a great sport. Relatedly, Roger Federer is the only tennis player I ever really loved. He’s the only guy that I ever set an early morning alarm for (it happened three times, but still).
As I recall, those three matches I saw were all against Rafa Nadal. I know I’ve also seen Novak Djokovich play. But that is really the extent of the tennis I have watched, outside of a few minutes here and there, or Sportscenter highlights.
But last week Netflix released the first five episodes of Break Point. It’s like Netflix’s Drive to Survive (F1 racing) or Last Chance U (college football and basketball), or HBO’s Hard Knocks (NFL). Each of the five episodes follows 2-3 different players over the course of the early part of the 2022 season. I love those types of shows, so I watched.
It was good! I enjoyed it. And I enjoyed getting to know the next generation of tennis players, including Taylor Fritz, Felix Auger-Aliassime, and Matteo Berrettini on men’s side, and Ons Jabeur, Paula Badosa, and Maria Sakkari on women’s side.
I finished up the first five episodes this week and then on Tuesday night I saw that the Australian Open was on. And who was playing? Matteo Berrettini! Well, hell, I had to check it out. I was rooting for Berrettini against aging former star Andy Murray. And the match was…SO FRUSTRATING. Berrettini is ranked #14 in the world. But he sure didn’t look like it! So many frustrating shots, where he had the whole court open for an easy smash, and he hit it right at Murray or missed the court completely instead. At one point Berrettini was serving for match point and had an easy shot to win. Instead, he did this:
You can see Murray move the wrong way. Berrettini had the entire court to drop in a little backhand and win the match. Instead he choked, hit it into the net, and went on to lose the match.
The next night I watched Taylor Fritz, who is the highest ranked American male player, at #9. Fritz won three titles last year, including a win over Nadal in the finals at Indian Wells, featured on Break Point. Fritz took on unranked Alexei Popyrin, an Australian. Popyrin had the home crowd behind him, but Fritz…kinda sucked! Just like Berrettini, Fritz blew so many chances and had so many bad hits.
I was thinking about how Fritz and Berrettini had such similar matches when it struck me: I have never sat down and watched an entire tennis match that didn’t involve Federer and either Nadal or Djokovich. What if Berrettini and Fritz didn’t suck this week? What if Roger, Rafa, and Novak had so thoroughly spoiled me that I expected too much from mere mortals like Berrettini and Fritz? That’s what I’m going with, anyhow.
So, check out Break Point if you like sports documentaries, but be prepared to be frustrated when you watch actual tennis. -TOB
PAL: It’s so easy to brush off how we’ve been (kinda, sometimes) watching the best tennis ever played for over a decade with Roger Federer, Nadal, and Djokovich. To really understand it – yeah – watch someone not named Federer, Nadal, or Djokovich.
"I don't know if I ever made a halftime adjustment in my entire 18-year career. I think that's the biggest myth in football- the halftime adjustments. You go in, you use the restroom, you eat a couple of oranges, and then the head coach says, 'Alright, let's go!'"- Peyton Manning pic.twitter.com/j17FWpXChq
If you are not a college football fan, you are likely not aware (or only vaguely aware) of what is going on in college football right now. A variety of issues, spurred in part by lawsuits in recent years, have conspired to create an absolute shitshow in college football and basketball right now.
First, the NCAA lifted its ban on an athlete’s ability to profit off their own “Name, Image, and Likeness” (“NIL”). The NCAA did this because, first California and then other states, began passing laws affirming that athletes attending colleges in those states could profit off their NIL. The NCAA, seeing which way the wind was blowing, opened up NIL in Summer 2021.
Next, the NCAA granted all athletes an extra year of eligibility due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
Concurrently, the NCAA eliminated the one-year mandatory sit-out when a player transfers colleges. Previously, a player looking to transfer had to sit for one full school year before playing for their new team. A player can now transfer twice with no penalty – once as an undergrad and again after receiving their degree, as a grad transfer, if they still have college athletics eligibility. To do so, players enter their names into a “Transfer Portal.” Once they do, opposing coaches are free to recruit them. The portal is open for a few weeks, twice a year: from December 5 through January 18 and May 1 through May 15.
Mix these things together and you have a college sports molotov cocktail. Recruiting season generally has only involved high school, and to a lesser extent junior college, athletes. Recruiting has been the lifeblood of a program. Coaches had to recruit high school seniors who could contribute to their teams two, three, and four years down the road. There were a lot of “misses” but generally the teams that recruit the best also play the best. And once a player got to campus, transfers were pretty rare. No player wanted to sit a year.
But now, coaches don’t have to only recruit for the future of their roster. They also now have to recruit college athletes who have entered the portal. And on top of that, they have to recruit their entire roster, every single year to keep their players happy and prevent them from entering the portal. This is particularly helpful to a new coach taking over a program. For example, USC and new coach Lincoln Riley had twenty players transfer in and twenty six players transfer out.
So how do they recruit established players from other teams and retain their own team? Enter: NIL.
Note: NIL cannot be paid directly by the school. NIL is not supposed to be “pay for play” (“P4P”), even if I think the distinction is practically non-existent. Instead, NIL has been weaponized by school through the creation of so-called “collectives.” Groups of boosters pool their money and use those funds to pay players for their NIL.
Cal football has one such collective, created in conjunction with Marshawn Lynch’s Beast Mode line. It is called California Legends Collective. There, fans can donate to the collective. Or they can donate directly to a sport. Or a position group. Or a specific player. Fans can pay even for services, like a “shout out” (think: Cameo) from a Cal athlete, or even pay for a live video chat. You can buy merchandise, too.
The collective then takes the money and distributes it to the players. As you might imagine, bidding wars have been sparked. One of Cal’s best players, redshirt freshman J. Michael Sturdivant, a very good wide receiver, received word through back channels that his services were greatly desired by other schools. Cal reportedly made its best effort, but UCLA doubled the offer. JMike entered the portal, and a larger bidding war broke out. Ultimately he chose UCLA, for what some estimate is $500,000. For a frosh wide receiver who caught 65 passes for 755 yards last year. Again, he’s very good! But if a WR with those numbers is getting that kind of money, what are the best players getting? What did USC give Caleb Williams to get him to leave Oklahoma and join his coach, Lincoln Riley, in L.A.? Well, consider the story of Jaden Rashada.
Rashada is a 5* QB. Last fall, he was a senior at Pittsburgh High in the East Bay. He had offers from almost every program in the country. He initially committed to Miami but flipped to Florida. The estimates were that Florida offered him $8 million dollars. That’s an 8 with six zeroes after it. But that estimate is now now believed to be low. Rashada went to Florida this week, prepared to enroll in school. But he hasn’t done so. Why? The proverbial check bounced. And the reported amount of that check, per the Orlando Sentinel? THIRTEEN MILLION DOLLARS. But the collective didn’t have the money. Rashada, though, signed his National Letter of Intent, meaning that either he has to use his one free portal transfer or he has to convince Florida to release him from his letter of intent.
I’m telling you. It’s a shitshow. So what needs to be done?
First, the portal needs to be adjusted. A six week window over the holidays, in the middle of bowl season, makes very little sense. Shorten it to three weeks and have it start in February, finishing up before spring ball begins.
Second, yes, he can file a lawsuit against the collective that he signed his contract with. But there needs to be recourse for a player like Rashada. If the collective signs a contract to pay a player an amount certain for going to a specific school, and the player relies on that promise in signing with the school, but then the collective reneges on the deal, the player should be able to transfer without penalty. Let’s stop pretending this isn’t pay-for-play and stop acting like the schools don’t know what’s going on and aren’t part of the deal.
Those two changes wouldn’t be a perfect system, but it’d be a lot better than it is now. -TOB
January 6, 1980: Flyers set NHL record with a 35-game unbeaten streak. Had no idea.
How They Saved Hamlin’s Life
Much has been made about the Bills’ Damar Hamlin collapsing in cardiac arrest in Monday’s NFL game between the Bills and Bengals, and much has been said about the dangers of football. Somewhere in the middle of this story was what appears to be a pretty excellent example of medical professionals being prepared for the worst at an NFL game. This account walks us through the incident from the POV of the emergency response team onsite. After reading—and hearing—the story, you’ll understand why there’s an old joke about the best places to have cardiac arrest is either at the airport or football stadium.
While it appears Hamlin is heading in the right direction towards recovery, this story makes it very clear just how precarious the situation was and how quickly a team of medical personnel jumped into action.
Cool story to shine a light on the folks that brought Hamlin back to life. – PAL
God bless Drew Magary. He’s a longtime Vikings fan, a pretty solid writer, and he hates Aaron Rodgers so, so, so much. After the Packers demolished the pretend-good Vikings to get one win away from the playoffs in a season that was toast in November (4-8), Magary’s sports hate just flows so perfectly in this column.
To whit:
The Packers haven’t lost since November. Once December hit, Packers head coach Matt LaFleur — who looks like a sniveling Frenchman up to no good — said to his team, “Hey, maybe we should have meetings together as an offense instead of trying to hash everything out by bitching to sweaty podcasters.” That was apparently all that a hateful God needed to let Rodgers and the Packers rip off four straight wins, capped with a 41-17 demolition of my team, the Minnesota Vikings, just a few days ago. I’d tell God that he owes me, but I just know he’d end up letting me down anyway. He always does. Least reliable god there is.
The only thing better than the Packers losing next week, thereby teasing its wretched fans with hope, would be for them to actually make the playoffs, then get pulverized by the Niners. I’m not the biggest Vikings fan, but I’m right there with Magary on this sports hate for Rodgers. – PAL
TOB: Magary obviously comes to his Aaron Rodgers feelings from the opposite direction as I do. Magary is a Vikings fan, and Rodgers has played for his team’s rival for his entire career – and most of Magary’s adult life. That’s easy sports hate.
My sports hate is very conflicted. Until recently, Rodgers was my favorite player of all time. Top 3, at least. The first time I saw him throw a pass I predicted he would win the Heisman (didn’t happen, but 4 NFL MVPs is a pretty nice consolation for my prediction).
For me, Rodgers is like that local band you saw at Battle of the Bands. You recognized the talent and star power immediately, and admired them as they rose to the top. Sure, along the way the lead singer said some things and did some things that you weren’t thrilled about. But it was fine! It was nothing major. And god damn did they kick ass. And then it wasn’t fine. Rodgers is an anti-vaxxer. He intentionally misled the public about his vaccination status. He has turned into a complete embarrassment for me. I no longer claim him as my own.
Even sports hate is too strong, though. I’m like a disappointed father, waiting for his kid to apologize and right his wrongs. Come back, Aaron!
The World Cup Was Awesome
A little late here, due to holiday travel. But the World Cup was freakin awesome, right? And it was capped off by the best soccer game I’ve ever seen, and one of the best games of any sport, I’ve ever seen. Here’s Brian Phillips, quickly rising up the ranks of my favorite writers, on how incredible this game was:
But I need you to know exactly what you are getting, as Joan Didion once wrote, and what you are getting is a man who cannot feel his face. My hands are still shaking. There are tears in my eyes. I’m writing this less than 10 minutes after the end of the greatest World Cup final ever, which Lionel Messi’s Argentina won on penalties over Kylian Mbappé’s France, and I do not believe it is recency bias that makes me think that this match was the single most thrilling sporting event I have ever witnessed. Every game is a story. And when you consider the stakes, the performances, the history in the balance, the refusal of either side to lose, the moments of astonishing play, the sudden reversals and wild swings of momentum, the knife’s-edge uncertainty of the outcome, and the epochal significance of a result that brought the career of the world’s best player to an almost magically perfect climax, it is hard to imagine a story more overwhelming or more satisfying than this one.
There’s something so pure—I want to say so innocent—about a story like this. It’s a story that feels lifted from a children’s book, a story unblemished by the disappointments and compromises and hypocrisies inescapable in adult life. This is, in a way, the essence of sport’s appeal to us. It lets us escape, for a few hours at a time, into a better world.
Phillips nails it. Particularly when considering all the stakes. It was not just a World Cup final. Think about what this meant for Messi.
Messi, the greatest player of his generation trying to cement his legacy by finally winning the big one.
Messi, trying to get the ghost of Maradona off his back.
Messi, facing his own club teammate and his heir apparent, Kylian Mbappe, trying to keep Mbappe from winning his second World Cup.
And he did it. It was an incredible performance by Messi, and by Mbappe.
Maybe it was that undisguised emotion that made this story feel so childlike. I’ve been writing about Lionel Messi, in one form or another, since he was 20 years old and practically a child. I’ve been writing about Kylian Mbappé since he was even younger than that. Watching them today, with Messi at 35 and Mbappé at 23, I found myself thinking about what it means to grow up, what it means to confront all those compromises and disappointments from which soccer gives us a temporary escape.
Look at Messi now. He’s no longer the wide-eyed elf who danced through defenses for Barcelona. He carries some marks of time on him. Not many—not after his singularly blessed and idolized life—but some. You can see in his eyes that he’s taken some knocks, that he’s aware of the possibility of failure, that he knows life is not always going to give him exactly what he wants. He looks at the ball, before running up to take a penalty, not with blithe confidence but with a sort of chastened determination. Everyone, even Leo Messi, has to learn that reality doesn’t revolve around him all the time.
Mbappé, by contrast, looks utterly convinced of his own destiny. He looks certain, the way a child is certain, that he is the hero of the story. He glares fearlessly at every challenge, because being young is like holding a magic feather; it means believing that you are the chosen child of the universe, and if you do your best, you will inevitably be rewarded with a win.
49ers beat writer Matt Barrows set out to answer a question I’ve long had – what exactly happens in an NFL halftime. Luckily, 49ers head coach Kyle Shanahan let him be a fly on the wall. It’s a really fascinating read.
So what is an NFL halftime like? Well, surprisingly quiet, at least for the 49ers offense:
It’s like an advanced-level math seminar condensed to six minutes. Shanahan is on the left side of the whiteboard, scribbling down the eight or so pass plays he likes for the second half. On the right side of the board, run game coordinator Chris Foerster and tight ends coach Brian Fleury do the same for the run plays.
The players silently look on as the coaches write. There’s not much discussion on that side of the room. Shanahan expects everyone to concentrate on the board. None studies it more closely than quarterback Brock Purdy, who is making his first NFL start that day.
There’s more, and it’s worth a read. -TOB
Source: “Inside the 49ers’ halftime locker room: Bananas, bathroom trips and study time for Brock Purdy,” Matt Barrows, The Athletic (12/30/2022)
The Rising Cost of Youth Sports
Recently, the Washington Post had an article about the rising costs of youth sports. As a parent of a young athlete, I can tell you first-hand that it is a lot of money.
One of the families featured in the story stuck with me – the family of Kamiya Vasquez, a 12-year old basketball player from Michigan.
Kamiya is talented, but her family cannot afford to put her on a travel team:
Kamiya often asks her father if she can try out for local travel teams, some of which charge more than $1,200 just for registration. He explains that the family can’t afford it right now but that he and his wife, Summer, are saving as much as they can, putting away $20 or $30 each month from their paychecks.
“We could pay, but we would be hurting,” Juoquin said. “It’s like, ‘We’ll pay the fee, but can we attach the car payment to it?’ ”
It’s tough to read. I feel for this dad. But if a parent’s reason for spending this much money to get your kid a college scholarship, I can’t help but wonder if the return on investment is there.
Kamiya wants to play basketball at Michigan State. The average cost of attendance at Michigan State, after aid, for a family at their income level, is $6,927 per year, according tothe U.S. Dept. of Education. That’s about $28,000 over 4 years. If Kamiya’s family spends $3,000 a year on various sports (this could easily be higher) for 8 years (from age 10-18), then they’ve spent $24,000 – not including all the hidden costs, travel, hotels, etc. I get wanting the best for your kid. But a college scholarship is not a golden ticket and parents should consider how much they’re getting out of that investment. -TOB
Incredible: Witness Andres Cantor, Buenos Aries born Argentinan-American Broadcast legend calling the penalty which won World Cup for Argentina. All that is good about sports and life 🇦🇷🎙️🙌 pic.twitter.com/fLVFIyPgeR
A cyclist pedals down the empty streets and captures the moment Argentina wins the World Cup on penalties over France, sending an entire nation into raptures. 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷 pic.twitter.com/GksNOniX8m
1-2-3 SPORTS! 