"I Didn't Do It!"

"I didn't do it."

Come along with me, my friends, as I take a nostalgic journey that might possibly add to the intrigue currently surrounding the Cleveland Cavaliers and the supposed king, LeBron James.

It wasn't that many years ago when James, a high school senior at Akron St. Vincent-St. Mary's and a preordained superstar created by Sports Illustrated, suddenly was blessed with a "gift" from his financially-challenged mother. The gift, of course, was only a brand-new Hummer H2, estimated to have cost in the $50,000 range--typically not affordable to most Ohio families let alone to one who had proclaimed his life story of having had little while growing up in the city.

When this incident occurred, the Ohio High School Athletic Association (OHSAA, for easy reference), led by Clair Muscaro, a respected school and athletic administrator for many years, launched an investigation. Sparing the details, the ultimate decision was that James would be suspended for receiving illegal benefits, as defined in the OHSAA codes. Of course, in the Akron area, that decision reeked of "trying to blame the star," so the situation quickly escalated into a legal challenge and a negative barrage against the OHSAA, its controlling board, and its commissioner. Even though LeBron did ultimately serve a brief suspension, he was reinstated; I never quite knew all the legal details of that scenario (his mother "proved" that he had a legitimate bank loan), but I do remember that it smelled fishy. LeBron, in his infinite attempt to draw attention to himself, during the game he was suspended (vs. Canton McKinley, if I recall correctly), reportedly brought out a remote Hummer and zipped it around parts of the court during pregame, probably to show his displeasure for his image being cast negatively. Of course, LeBron and his associates decried everything; the counterargument was that the school parking lot was full of cars given to kids whose parents had bought the cars for them. The implied message was that criticizing LeBron for having a Hummer was a subtle form of racism and unfair criticism; in short, he was merely innocent.

As the years rolled on, most of us in Ohio fell victim to the magic of LeBron; he truly was and remains an outstanding player, one who has led the Cavaliers to two NBA Finals. Yes, he disappointed us when he headed south to Miami, but, in fairness, the NBA is a business, and he had an opportunity to improve himself financially and professionally--can't fault him for that. Of course, we were bitter simply because we were and remain so hungry for a championship in northeast Ohio; when he left, our dreams went with him as did the Cavaliers'.  In time, however, he returned after having achieved a financial pinnacle that we cannot fathom and two championships in his belt. Again, much to his credit, he came home to give us what we so badly desire. While his incessant dribbling wears me out, I refuse to be critical of his basketball skills nor his generosity toward those less fortunate than he. As an ambassador for the NBA and as a true philanthropist, he is clearly a member of an elite few. However, as someone who proclaims he has never disrespected a coach, sorry, I don't buy it; in truth, he has done it throughout his career--perhaps it is simply a matter of how one defines "disrespect." Again, let's resume the nostalgic journey.

A few names need to be mentioned: Former coach Mike Brown--like or dislike him--was clearly not a favorite of LeBron's. If Brown were ever to open up, I suspect he could share many opportunities where LeBron outright defied him. On record, not much there, but LeBron always said what was "right," so as to avoid personal criticism. Erik Spoelstra, Miami's coach, butted heads with LeBron, even being shouldered by him on one occasion while James was walking to the huddle; Chris Bosh, an all-star level player, never really fit with LeBron's style--I have to think he was somewhat happy and relieved when LeBron headed out of Miami. My point is simple: he has disrespected many coaches, and I suspect many players.

All this brings us to the current situation with David Blatt, recently fired coach of the Cavaliers, who never appeared to be embraced by LeBron, despite Blatt's numerous compliments that James was the best player in the world and the Cavaliers' team revolved around him. I could go on, but it became painfully clear to me early this season when LeBron simply walked off the floor while play was still ongoing and recently when he spent most of the fourth quarter on the bench constantly talking to assistant coach Tyronn Lue--it was clear from James's nonverbal expressions and his ever-present talking literally out of the side of his mouth that the lack of support for yet another coach had surfaced again. Despite James's contention that he had nothing to do with Blatt's ouster, I do not believe it. The prevailing creed is that "the players just didn't like Blatt" and "he didn't know what he was doing." Yeah, right. Perhaps the discontent started with LeBron not liking him--think that might have carried a little weight in that locker room? Critics say that Blatt didn't stand up to James; if he had, I suspect he would have been fired long before last week. Remember this key point: the Cavaliers' general manager is not Pat Riley, a man who refused to allow LeBron to intimidate him. I will let you read between those lines.

No, my friends, LeBron might not have been informed or consulted about Blatt's firing, but his fingerprints are all over that situation. A man of integrity lost his job . . . again, because of LeBron and his power. Many, including me, are in the midst of choosing whether we want to go all in to back the Cavaliers yet again. As stated, I get it that professional sports is a business, but, for the life of me, I cannot get past that LeBron's power continues to be an undermining disaster. Perhaps we will fall victim to our desire to win, but my thoughts are quite simple: Regardless of how badly we want that championship, LeBron's negative vibes are rearing their ugly heads. Can I see it? Nope, but I feel it. When it's all over, we will not have a championship banner to gloat about, but we will forever debate whether LeBron's time in Cleveland was worth it or not. 

Remember these words: I didn't do it.

Tooting the Whistle

     Many moon ago, I was a starving freshman college student living in a decrepit dormitory lucky to scrape together enough money so I could join my friends once a week at the Burger Chef directly across from Kent State University's front campus. Most weeks I had the money, but several I didn't--I hated that feeling. Although I had a part-time job working on campus, that money was pretty well spoken for, so my money flow was quite limited until . . . I became interested in becoming a basketball referee. In time, I researched the process of becoming an official, ordered and studied the materials, began focusing on referees' movements rather than the players', passed the required Ohio High School Athletic Association test, and became a licensed official. From that point, another step in my evolution had begun.

     Like most players and fans, prior to becoming an official, I had based most of my reactions on how those around me acted. Typically, if a call had gone against my team or the team I was rooting for, I, without hesitation, blamed the official. For years, I had watched the sideline antics of Coach Charlie Huggins as he berated, manipulated, and scolded officials with the intent of getting the crowd to support his viewpoint and intensify the pressure on the men in stripes. Truthfully, most times it worked because it was Charlie--a basketball icon in our valley--doing the yelling. Opposing coaches--in an attempt to get the same breaks that Charlie got--tried to emulate him. Sometimes it worked; most frequently, it didn't. That was my background, so, obviously, I carried that same mentality with me: Officials deserved to be scolded.

     When the "shoe is on the other foot," however, we often change our perspectives. As a neophyte official, I had so much to learn, but like any beginner, I carried myself as if I knew far more than I did. Fortunately, in the Portage County League where I began, the league protocol required the varsity officials to bring one JV official with them, and each of the two varsity officials worked one half of the JV game with whomever they brought. I had the opportunity to work with two veterans who basically adopted me during my first two years, helped me get games, taught me the basics of officiating, and pointed out my various weaknesses as well as the few strengths I had at that point in my development. It took my working only a few games before I realized that to be a solid official required far more than I had ever considered when I was sitting in the stands. Strangely, I loved it.

     As the years passed, I made enough money to allow me to take spring break vacations; my parents had made it clear they were not paying for any luxury like that. So, I met my first goal: make money. Beyond that, though, I realized that what I was doing was a perfect fit for the teaching and coaching career I was pursuing. In time, I learned to basically tune out as much crowd noise as possible, to identify and ignore coaches who cried and moaned most of the time, to listen to those coaches who demonstrated logic and restraint, and to quasi-understand why crowds--particularly parents--were so rabid in their support and defense of their kids. Most importantly, I learned the rules, something I really had never fully explored. Nothing could be more embarrassing--although it did happen--to be caught in a situation where my ignorance of a particular rule surfaced. In short, it was on-the-job training for the coaching profession I was pursuing.

     When I graduated from college, I continued officiating while still coaching freshmen basketball at Newcomerstown High School. As time progressed, though, my passion shifted to coaching, and I ultimately surrendered my officiating license. Unfortunately, the self-imposed pressures of coaching gradually pushed my officiating lessons aside. When coaching--regardless of what level it might be--the coach wants to win, of course. In the process, sometimes that coach may act ridiculously, may scream uncontrollably, and may assume a demeanor that is not his or her true self. If the reader failed to catch it, I just described myself in the earlier stages of my career.

     Yes, I had games where I chased the officials from the floor, earned my technical fouls, and felt my blood pressure shoot sky high all in the spirit of trying to win games. Somewhere along the line, though, I began to realize that I was turning into a man who lost his focus while coaching; it took many years for me to accept that I was shortchanging myself and my players because when I would start on the officials, I would drift from my concentration, thus making me not nearly the coach I should have been. I suppose part of it was the dreaded ego, of course, but I increasingly became aware that I was getting sick of hearing my own complaints, which seemed to be the same broken record. In time, I tried to change . . . although I did have relapses where I went nutsy on a few guys! By my career's end, though, I had come full circle--I tolerated the calls, made a few pointed observations, and then shut my mouth . . . and I like to think I became a better coach as a result.

     My point is quite simple: Officiating is hard work, far more difficult than sitting in the stands, watching a game, and offering comments. It requires keen vision, intense focus, physical conditioning, communication skills, teamwork, rule book knowledge, invisible ear muffs, confidence, and, most importantly, common sense. Just for a moment, I ask you to look around the gym at the next game and see how many of those people screaming and critiquing possess the characteristics just described. I already know the answer: an extremely small number. Yes, I will be first to admit that like any profession, not every official is on the same level; translated, several are better than others, some far better. No, not everyone can referee; unfortunately, I fear that high school and middle school sports are about to hit a crisis: not enough people are savvy enough to officiate, so the numbers of officials are dropping considerably. I question what will happen when athletic directors cannot get officials for games; my hope is it does not happen, but as numbers drop and teams increase, an officiating shortage is quickly approaching. Then what?

     As a former coach and official, I recognize the camaraderie and respect that develop between the two: it is special, make no mistake. At this point in life, I look back at officials I hold in special regard. Retired officials like Larry Gasser, Chuck Rest, Mel McAfee, Sam Fausto, Al Amicone, Roger Levi; deceased officials like Joe Pangrazio and Warren Hood; current officials like Ron Hurst, Buck Corwin, Jimmy Hood, Jim Blickensderfer, Kevin Milligan--these guys and others just like them are ones who may have irritated the hell out of me at various times, but we were on the stage together, willing to expose ourselves to the ridicule of others while earning a respect shared by few. Officials sacrifice so much to pursue a passion, one where money and reputations can be made, yet one where enemies and grudges can also be formed. What we do appreciate, though, is that without them the show cannot go on! As I look back, I miss those interactions, that banter, the dreaded looks, the occasional technical--what fun it was!

Similarities: Jimmy Haslam /President Obama

I will begin with a profound question: Where the hell are we headed?


To answer the question, I must first define "we." For this discussion, two definitions suffice: "we" are Browns' fans and "we" are United States citizens. It strikes me that the two have a shared commonality.


Let's talk about Jimmy first; I don't trust him. Two years ago I heard him talk at the Pro Football Hall of Fame Luncheon Club (after he arrived 25 minutes late and took no questions), and I came away thinking that "if anyone can talk himself out of a federal indictment, it's he." I was right on that, by the way. His business approach and suave demeanor unnerved me; what I heard coming from his mouth did not equate with his aura . . . something about him was unnerving. Granted, I am not part of his successful Flying J business world, but my gut instincts told me he was too smooth to be true. With that said, however, I wanted to believe every word he said because I have always wanted the Browns to be winners.


As time has passed, though, my belief has sunk to its lowest depth. Point blank: I don't trust the guy. Despite what he has said, I am convinced that he bought the Browns because they were the first team available and he had the money, not because he had a vested interest in Cleveland. Like a savvy businessman, he wants results--I am glad for that, but he seems to misunderstand one of the key ingredients of athletics: loyalty. After openly stating he "would not blow things up" if  the 2015 season did not go as planned, he did just that--he "blew it up." Should we be surprised when whoever gets hired as coach and general manager faces the same dilemma of being replaced fairly quickly? Building a successful program takes time, a key point  for which Jimmy seems to have low regard. Before the season, in a blog, I observed that I hoped Jimmy would give Mike Pettine four years to build rather than going in a different direction. Obviously, it was wishful thinking on my part, but, again, I don't trust ol' Jimmy . . . and I don't think too many of us do in this part of the country. As a result of the lack of loyalty, we have lost faith; as that happens, we become cynical about everything Browns-related. My expectations are that the accompanying negativity will result in lower ticket sales and fewer merchandise purchases, of course. Of larger significance, though, is the failure to trust--when that happens, we may never recover.


Discussing politics is not a wise move in this forum because I am not wise enough or informed enough to intelligently counter many arguments; thus, because I am leery of those with extreme views, my status as an independent is comfortable to me. However, such a noticeable swing has occurred in our country based upon so many factors: lack of support for the President, Democratic/Republican opposing philosophies--pick a reason. The underlying factor, though, is a complete lack of trust in the presidency, the elected officials, and the mantra being preached to us. Obviously, the following for Donald Trump and Ben Carson reflects this mistrust because they provide a supposed option. To hear people talk, however, alarms me; no longer do many describe our president by his title. Instead, he is known as Obama or any other nickname. I have seen enough cartoons that truly go beyond satire as it is defined. Rather, it is reflective of intense personal attacks designed to belittle the office and the man. That is the sign of a deteriorating society. Restating the last sentence from my previous paragraph, "Of larger significance, though, is the failure to trust--when that happens, we may never recover."


Jimmy Haslam and Barack Obama--different in so many ways yet possessive of one key similarity: many of us in this part of the country do not trust them. Maybe what they are attempting to do will be best for us in the long run, but we are almost done giving them "the benefit of the doubt." What speaks more loudly: the actual message or the delivery of the message?


We've been burned too many times.