Read this morning's Sam Amick's article in The Athletic that there is some hope of a renewed NBA season and the crowning of a 2019/20 champion. The teams will have to play in a biocity - Las Vegas - seems to be the front-runner with lots of hotels and two arenas. I can see it happening, each team with its own sheltered hotel, lots of continuous testing, no audience except, perhaps, family, administration, and ownership, widely separated. Television to a starving audience could recoup some of the leagues lost revenue. SO, GO FOR IT, I SAY, with this one essential requirement: All: the league, owners, and players should agree that a portion of the revenue garnered from these final games should be set aside to pay arena workers who lost their jobs due to the abrupt end of the season. I do not know if teams continued to pay their arena employees ( I would hope they did, but find it unlikely they did for more than a few weeks), but even if they did, money should still go to these low wage earners as a bonus, a thank you for cleaning the arena, for getting us our popcorn, for serving us our 50 dollar hotdogs, for directing fans to their seats. You are the best, HERE'S A NICE FAT CHECK FOR YEARS OF LOYAL SERVICE.
On to another article I read this morning in the emasculated sport page of the Sacramento Bee, a commentary by Tim Dahlberg. Dahlberg writes primarily about the financial impact COVID 19
will have on the future of professional golf: fewer tours, smaller purses, less player perks. Given the severity of the virus on the average citizen in America, I am unimpressed that pro golfers will have to suck it up a little. But Dahlberg goes on to talk about "revenues going down across the board" in all sports - pros and colleges. Any renewed sporting event will have to make a financial adjustment. I quote: "That might not be such a bad thing for fans who have to pay $50 to park and $16 for a decent beer (decent is a relative term) after already digging deep to buy tickets for the family." Read the entire article; it's very well written and informative. I'm sure you can pull it up on line.
A suggestion to the NBA. You're missing the boat on the NBA Channel. You should be promoting past NBA Championship games better than you are. You can be so much more creative. Team prizes for people watching games, easily verified by telephone calls: NBA quiz shows players vs civilians; like the HORSE tourny, players competing for how many free throws made in a row. How about Rick Barry vs any present day player? I'll bet on Barry even at his age. Look, I'm just imagining
stuff that NBA and basketball fans in general would have fun watching. And I'm sure the networks would be delighted to air.
One last thing: Our fake President says he did started combating COVID19 "early" starting in January when he locked out Chinese travelers from entering the United States and later in January locking out travelers from infected European countries. Why the hell am I NOT IMPRESSED while Americans from all these countries (many of whom were no doubt infected by this time) were allowed back into our country without being TESTED?????? And then, what were you doing, Mr. Fake President, during the month of February, four weeks and into early March when you did zero. Not only ZERO, but kept insisting this virus would go way like a "miracle?"
YOU, SIR, ARE A LIAR. HALF THE DEATHS OF OUR GOOD CITIZENS REST ON YOUR TARDY SHOULDERS.
PLEASE GOD, SOMEBODY WITH SOME MORAL STRENGTH STAND UP TO THIS EVIL PRESIDENT!!!!
I promise not to write another COVID19 poem. But here is my one;
MY COVID 19 POEM
Sheltered in place, this afternoon, the NBA season
canceled, I'm watching reruns of games. It's 1994,
Knicks vs Bulls. I'm feeling squeamish as the Bulls'
Anthony Mason drives to the basket and scores
as if he was alive and hadn't been dead for years
from a stroke. It might be the statistics on the news
of the number of dead rising around the world
that had me thinking of NBA ghosts, my teammates
and me as a kid on Halloween trying to be brave
walking through the haunted house, white sheets
popping up around every corner. In New York City
they rent refrigerator trucks to store dead bodies.
Yesterday, I watched the Boston Celtics play
and Dennis Johnson died as he crossed mid-court
and rose into the air on the wings of angels.
I am eighty-one-years old, The virus likes my age.
I welcome ghost into my life, old friends. .
