Losing

by Dick Mac

Having grown-up in Boston, I spent the first four decades of my life as a fan of the Boston Red Sox baseball team.  Exercises in futility are rarely more obvious.  I suffered the failures of 1967, 1975, and 1986.  I never enjoyed a World Series championship.  In the early 21st Century, I became disgusted with Major League Baseball and abandoned the sport completely.  Until 2003, baseball was really the mainstay of my sports entertainment consumption.  The ensuing years saw the Red Sox become champions.  Go figure.

Living in London at the turn of the century I was introduced to soccer (football as they called it there).  I had no interest, really, but another ex-pat asked me to attend a match at Highbury, in North London, to watch Arsenal play Manchester City.  I scoffed at the invitation, but he was insistent, and the following Saturday we were on the tube for the trip from the Piccadilly Circus stop to Arsenal stop.

The actual ticket stub!

I kept an open mind, and did my best to understand the difference between a free-kick and a penalty-kick.  I just gave-up understanding the off-sides rule.

I was impressed, however, by a player named Thierry Henry, and the very tall center midfielder, Patrick Viera.  They did things with the ball that I had never seen done and didn't even know mattered.  Arsenal won the match 5-0, and it was later that season I learned about promotion and relegation, when the long-suffering Manchester City fans saw their team relegated from the Premier League to Division 1.

When asked my thoughts about soccer by my English friends and colleagues, I only gushed on and on about Thierry Henry.  I had never seen an athlete do things that he did.  He was remarkable, and he had me hooked.

Over the next couple of seasons, Arsenal would go on a streak of no losses that broke all records and garnered them the moniker "The Invincibles."  I really didn't have much experience supporting such a great team, and over the following few years, soccer began to replace baseball as my true love.

Eventually I found myself back home in New York City, and sports leagues were still in the nascent stages of leveraging the Internet.  My ability to watch English soccer was limited to a single cable broadcast on Saturday, a smattering of pay-per-view events, and Nevada Smith's, a soccer pub in the East Village where I sometimes found myself at the bar at seven in the morning, drinking coffee and soda, eating donuts and chips, and tipping well.

At the office, I started moaning about my access to soccer, and eventually a colleague (probably sick of hearing me go on and on about it) asked why I hadn't just switched to MLS?

"What is MLS?" I asked.  He insisted, though wasn't 100% certain, that Major League Soccer had a franchise in New York.

NY/NJ MetroStars Logo

I rushed to the Internet and found something called the MetroStars.  "What the fuck is a metrostar?" I asked myself aloud.  And why is it the NY/NJ MetroStars?  It all sounded stupid, but I was desperate and called the number for ticket sales.

I admitted to the man on the other end of the line that I had no idea what MLS was, what his team was, or if I was even interested.  I bragged about my time in London and my love of Arsenal.

He convinced me to buy tickets for the next home match that would be played at Giants Stadium.  He explained that I could get a shuttle bus out of Port Authority and the same shuttle bus service would get me back to NYC after the match.  I bought tickets from him, they eventually arrived in the mail, and I made my way to Giants Stadium.

Giants Stadium held 80,005 spectators, and was sold out for all Giants games.  It could also hold 15,000 fans with ease, and it was rare that 15,000 fans attended MetroStars matches, but that is a general estimate of the average attendance.  It was sort of depressing to sit in a nearly empty stadium to watch a match.  But I did it.  And I hated it and I fell in love. I mean, this was not, by any stretch of the imagination, like English soccer.

I attended regularly, then became the owner of two season-tickets for the 2003 season.

The MetroStars were a team like my Boston Red Sox.  They didn't win much.  They lost matches they should have won, and my love for them felt perpetually like an exercise in futility. I was home! I could do this!

Since that time, excepting the year after my daughter was born, I have been a season-ticket holder.  It was during that year that The NY MetroStars were purchased by Red Bull GmbH, the company that owns the hard-drink sold in bodegas.  The purchase made me less upset about giving-up my season tickets, but I eventually came to accept that my team had to be owned by someone, and in Reagan's brave new America it was unlikely that any one corporation was going to be any less offensive than another (well, except for Wal-Mart, News Corporation, Monsanto, and Nestle who are the 4 worst corporate citizens).

When I returned the following year, the now quaint and old-fashioned striped MetroStars jerseys were replaced with the Red Bull logo.  I wasn't thrilled by the new look, but I was over-the-moon to be back in Giants Stadium watching my team play in a cavernous edifice.

Seemingly out-of-the-blue, Aston Villa striker and Colombia captain, Juan Pablo Angel, was signed. This was huge.  I loved watching Angel play in the English Premier League and the notion that someone of his calibre and stature was joining Red Bull New York was fantastic - the stuff of dreams.

In 2007, my daughter asked if she could come to matches with me.  Since she was only three, I explained that it was too big a stadium for me to be able to take care of her during a match, so maybe when she was four years old, blah, blah, blah . . .  Knowing full-well that she would completely forget about the soccer matches by her next birthday, I felt confident that I was all set.

At her fourth birthday party, she blew-out her candles, surrounded by friends and extended family, turned to me and said:  "Daddy, now I'm four, so I can come to the soccer matches with you!"

with Tim Ream

At that moment was born one of Red Bull New York's biggest supporters.  It was 2008 and she has never looked back.  Her heart-throbs started immediately:  Johnny Gilkerson, Caleb Patterson, Seth Stammler, Danny Cepero, Danleigh Borman, Andrew Boyens, Juan Pablo Angel, Tim Ream, Connor Lade, and Matt Miazga have shared her undying adoration over the years, often simultaneously.

We attend almost every home match and even travel with other supporters to away matches in New England, Philadelphia, and Washington DC.  We have a great time together and soccer might be the one thing we share during those difficult years when children stop relating to their parents.  I can hope.

Viking Goddess

In 2008, I flew (alone) to Los Angeles to watch RBNY play Columbus, in the MLS Cup final.  I found myself in the tunnel at the same time the team was lining-up for the procession to the field.  No less than three RBNY players asked:  "Where's your daughter?" When I explained she was too small to take on a long flight, they simply walked away from me.  I'm certain they meant no offense and really:  why the hell would they want to talk to an overweight guy who was older than their parents, when they might be able to talk to a 4-year-old who unwaveringly adores them?  I knew at that moment that I had reached that part of parenthood where we are defined not by our names, but as the nameless parents of our child.  I am not Dick Mac, I am her dad.

Now, eight seasons into being a season-ticket holder, she is living sports fandom the same way I did as a child: supporting a team that just can't bring it all home.

In 2013, our team won the Supporters Shield, which in every other country on Earth means you are the Champions.  In the USA, however, the television networks insist that championships be decided not by having the best record, but by playing an additional post-season with half the teams, including teams with losing records, vying to win a cup that denotes that they are the champions.  Just like the NFL, NBA, NHL and MLB, a soccer team can lose most of their matches during the season, come on strong, win the last few matches of the season, qualify for a playoff spot and bring their now-winning momentum to fruition by winning a match that gives them a cup that makes them champions.  It is a uniquely American concept that, in my not-so-humble view, makes no sense whatsoever.

Be that as it may, we were the best team in 2013, won the Shield, and lost in the early rounds of the playoffs, so we were not actually the best team of 2013, some team with fewer victories than us was crowned the champions.

with Thierry Henry

This season, we were the Cinderella team.  In a rebuilding year, having lost many of our veteran players and stars, and starting the season with a new front-office and coaching staff, we managed to kick ass and win the Supporters Shield again!  Back to the playoffs!

Sunday night, in freezing cold conditions, we lost the Eastern Conference championship to Columbus Crew SC.  Again, we were the best team in the league, but we are not the champions.  Either Portland or Columbus will be the champions.

In 2008 and 2013, we wept when we lost.  Last night there were no tears and I realized we were used to losing the big matches. That's just who we are:  like the Boston Red Sox of my youth it is always "close, but no cigar"!  My daughter is enjoying the same agony of being a sports fan with which I am familiar.

It's already been announced, less than 24-hours after the loss, that two veteran players (one who has been on loan most of the season, and one who has been injured for months) will not be returning next year.  More of these announcements are forthcoming.  These announcements are a bit of a relief, because we can focus on the shortcomings and failures of those players instead of thinking about our team losing again.

The team lowered the protective wall

behind our seats, so people stand above us

spilling food and drink, talking loudly,

or pressing machine guns against the fabric.

The team was exciting and enjoyed a great season. We had a terrible season supporting our team.  Our match day experience has been ruined by a corporate decision that impacted a small number of fans.  Sadly, we are fans who suffered this decision.  The wall behind our seats was re-engineered, allowing people to spill drinks and food on us, cops to lean against the wall with their machine guns pressing against the fabric, and stadium staff carrying on loud conversations right above us.

The team never consulted us, they never came to us when the changes were implemented without our knowledge. They eventually begged forgiveness and feigned powerlessness in response to my anger; but they never made any gesture to give even a nominal appearance of actual contrition.  It's perfectly clear that they don't care that we've lost the seats we love.  They made no efforts to compensate us for changing our agreement halfway through a contract that is heavily weighted in the team's favor, for ruining our match day experience for every remaining match of the season. Never did they say:  hey, here's a discount for next year, or hey enjoy a match in the Club on us, or here's a new doll/scarf/jacket/anything for your daughter.  They just sent a powerless staff member to apologize, and have left us to fend for ourselves. Our friend sitting in the seat next to us has left, never to return.

We lost a lot this year:  we lost the Eastern Conference championship, we lost a chance to host the MLS Cup final, we lost our seats, and we've lost a great deal of love for our team.

I was prepared to sever my ties completely; but my daughter insisted that we get new seats for next year.  We hate them, but they are our seats.  We've lost our seats, and to a large degree the team is losing us.  Sure, they have our money for 2016, but we no longer enjoy unwavering love and commitment to them.

RBNY Logo

A new team joined the league this past season: NYCFC.  We have season tickets for that team, too.  My daughter hates them, and I am no big fan, but they treat us a whole lot better than the Red Bulls treat us.  It's easy to get to their stadium, it's a well-run facility, they have amazing concession stands (including gluten-free offerings, which we need), we have great seats, they call or write me all the time asking if everything is OK.  I don't really want to switch allegiances, so I haven't yet, but I no longer feel welcome at Red Bull Arena.  I no longer feel a part of something special there.

We have no right to expect special treatment when doing business with a corporation, but before getting the shaft this year we really felt as though we were part of something special.  I thought that we mattered to the team (not just to our fan services reps), because of our long-time commitment and unwavering love. In reality, like everyone else, we are just another credit card number.

So, the season ended just as so many Red Sox seasons ended between 1965 and 2003 (the years I followed that team): close but no cigar, thanks for your money, please clear the stands, and see you next season.

Have a nice day.

Does Religiosity Negate Cultural Significance? Save Mission Church.

by Dick Mac

Mission Church (the Basilica of Our Lady of Perpetual Help), on Tremont Street, in Mission Hill, is one of the most significant pieces of architecture in the City of Boston.  It was/is the spiritual home of immigrants from Europe, South America, and all points.

I believe that buildings like Mission Church play a significant role in American History, irrespective of their religiosity.  This impressive edifice defines much of Boston's late-19th and early-20th century development.  It is important beyond any of our spiritual or religious beliefs.

Like most Catholic churches, it is struggling to stay afloat.  We all have opinions about why this has happened, and we are all appalled by the crimes committed by clergy of the Catholic church.

Does that mean this building no longer matters?

This building was and is a safe haven for immigrants, a food pantry for the hungry, a warm place for the homeless, a destination for tourists who want to know more about Boston and America, and much more.

I think this building matters a lot, and that we should support it as a cultural landmark.

No, the government isn't going to bail it out, and shouldn't.  And none of us should want it to become part of the national treasure chest of government-financed heritage sites.

Citizens have to save this building.  We can pretend that only Catholics have to save an edifice like this; but, I think this building and others like it, transcend religiosity, and are worth saving.

Please consider a donation to the fund established by the Redemptorist Priests of Boston in support Mission Church by visiting their website or  Facebook page.

Or go directly to the YouTube video.

Also see, Saving the bells.

Gratitude

by Dick Mac

Sometimes we face challenges that seem insurmountable.  When we are in that situation, a feeling of dread and hopelessness can take over.  Maybe you have never been there.  I have been there.

I am a lucky (or blessed) man.  I have been granted many reprieves from the depths of hopelessness.  It's not ever really easy to overcome, but it can be done.

This Thanksgiving week I heard a news story that made my heart ache and filled me with gratitude.

In New York City, a new mother, unable to cope with being a single mom, with no resources, and another human being to care for, decided to take advantage of the City's safe haven law.  The safe haven law allows for a parent (generally a mother) in distress to leave a newborn child under 30-days-old at specific locations, where we are all relatively certain the baby will receive care.  Safe havens are hospitals, firehouses, churches, police stations, and the such.  Many people have taken advantage of this legal method for escaping the personal hell in which they have found themselves.

This has prevented the horror stories of unwanted babies (or babies of women who are overwhelmed by her inability to care for her child) being "disposed of" in dumpsters and trash cans.  In fact, the safe haven laws in the United States have almost completely eradicated that horror.

In the most recent story, a new mother entered a store in Queens and purchased a bunch of purple towels.  She then made her way to the Holy Child Jesus Catholic Church.  Once inside the church, she made her way to the newly-installed nativity scene with an empty creche that on Christmas morning will hold a statue of the baby Jesus.  She placed the baby in the creche, wrapped in the purple towels, and left.

For whatever reasons, she could not handle being a mother, found a place where she knew her newborn baby would be safe (inside a church), and left him there.

She had made a series of decisions that we can all judge however we choose.  In the context of the safe-haven law, however, she missed one important point.  She was supposed to inform someone that the baby was in the church.  She did not do this.  Because of that failure, it became a criminal investigation.

The next day she returned to the church to make sure the baby had been found.  She was subject to arrest for her failure to inform anyone of the baby's whereabouts.  The Queens County District Attorney Richard Brown became involved in the investigation, and would decide how to handle the situation.  He offers this:

The mother followed the spirit of New York’s ‘Safe Haven’ Law, which allows a parent to leave a child not older than 30 days with an appropriate person or in a suitable location where the parent promptly notifies an appropriate person of the child’s location. It appears that the mother, in this case, felt her newborn child would be found safely in the church and chose to place the baby in the manger because it was the warmest place in the church, and further she returned the following morning to make certain that the baby had been found.  New York Times article 

She was NOT arrested and faces no criminal charges. THAT, my friends, is a public official using his intelligence and compassion to reach a conclusion that is best for all involved.  He could have made this a grandstanding opportunity to further his career, but he didn't.  He made the decision that best serves the child, the mother, the church, and all of society.  That is what good people do.

Brooklyn-Queens Diocese spokeswoman Rocio Fidalgo, speaking on behalf of the church, offered:

We can’t imagine the desperation she must have gone through, but placing the baby in the manger where Jesus is born ... she wanted him to be close to Christ. We may never meet her, but our prayers are with her.  Daily News Article

Desperation.  Let that word roll around in your mind and heart for a few seconds.  That is the spirit of the safe-have law:  help human beings survive a moment of desperation.  We, as a society, acknowledge that there are situations that need to be handled with compassion, and this law has worked.

For that I am grateful.

In closing, I am happy and proud to say that there are good people in law enforcement, and we need more people like Queens D.A. Richard Brown in the law enforcement system.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Veterans Day

by Dick Mac

Today is Veterans Day, in the United States.

The American military has done some incredible things.

It is important to remember that there were times when Americans were sent to fight wars and they had no choice but to comply. Some of these people became heroes they never intended to be, some have been scarred for life. They deserve our thanks and respect.

We are creating new veterans today; people who have taken up arms at the behest of their government, and no matter what you think of war or peace, today is the day to say thank-you to a veteran for risking everything.

Thank you!

Impressive: Another Rich White Guy Hates Fags.

by Dick Mac

Anthony Fera, the president of Houston’s MidStar Energy LP, exchanged angry words with a gay couple, called them faggots, left his vehicle in traffic, punched one unconscious.

The incident allegedly began when the victims yelled at the driver of a pickup truck that they said nearly hit them as it drove out of a parking lot. The Dallas Voice reported that the driver responded with antigay slurs, stepped out of the vehicle and allegedly knocked Andy Smith— who was walking with his husband Paul von Wupperfeld— unconscious as the dispute escalated. Smith was unconscious for less than a minute as a result, the media report said. See, Houston oil business president charged with assault on gay couple, from the Houston Business Journal

Pictures taken at the scene included the license plate number on the pickup driven by the man who attacked Smith, allowing police to trace the pickup to Anthony Fera, president of an Austin-based oil company. . . .  Fera has been arrested several other times in Texas and Pennsylvania. See, North Texas man attacked in Austin, from the Dallas Voice

So, this guy is a violent repeat offender, but his bail was only $5,000.  When will a sociopath like this be locked-up to protect America?  Why is he free on bail?  What happens when he hits another person?

[CORRECTION 6/19/2105 14:04:  It is the victim, Andy Smith, who is the executive director of the Texas Instruments Foundation.]