CHUCK TANNER - A REFLECTION

Just a personal remembrance of Charles Tanner.

I have always been a hero worshiper - even when my affection and/or admiration may have been misplaced. There was an Irish lad, a Pittsburgh product who was an amazing major league pitcher in the American League. Even though he played for the "wrong league' we were proud he was once one of us, and a hero to many.

He was also an excellent pool shot and fun to play against at Donahues, a favorite hangout for a lot of us "still not grown up" men.

Our hero displayed less coordination when my friends and I watched him unsuccessfully try to maneuver the dais at a Dapper Dan sports dinner in Pittsburgh; one winter night. A lot of the attendees were impressionable kids and we told them some tall tales.

On reflection, I guess many "heros" had our good nights and our not-so-good nights.

That apparently is not so for Chuck Tanner, a New Castle, Pa guy who passed away this past Friday after a long illness. He managed my Pirates to 711 victories - which at the rate they're going may take about ten or twelve more years to match - and possibly as many managers.

Chuck was consistent. He was an easy person to like and wore his mantle of responsibility well. I was lucky enough to attend my only World Series game in Pittsburgh - or for that matter anywhere else when Chuck was the manager.

While I'm sure I must have seen Chuck also at one of the sports banquets in Pittsburgh, it was not until last year in Bradenton that my brother Jim introduced us at McKechnie Field. I may be off a year, but it was last year that I remember Chuck most.

Jim had apparently had several conversations with Chuck, who currently served the Pirates as an advisor, cheerleader, and sports psychologist.

The comments by former Pirates in sports columns, as well as the newbees now playing, confirm he was still a true upbeat leader. He was also as personable as all get out to anyone he met.

Jim, as is his nature when it comes to the Pirates, had picked Chuck's brain with questions as to which of the new players he really liked, his thoughts as to the future of the team, and even snuck in a few questions regarding what Chuck's true role was with the management group.

At our meeting with Chuck, standing in front of Jim's box seats, my brother teased Chuck about something he had said to Jim that could have easily been construed by the Pirates management as TMI - and I don't mean the location of Harrisburg's nuclear reactor.

Chuck, with those wrinkled facial lines formed from so many years out in the sun as both coach and player, took my brother on. He accused Jim of making up the whole thing. However, at no point was I unaware of his appreciation for my brother's extensive baseball knowledge.

Now, I wasn't there when the original meeting took place so, therefore, I could not break into the conversation. Not sure I would have if I could.

By experience, as opposed to Sullivan loyalty, my money would have been on the premise that Chuck actually said to Jim what the latter claimed was true. I think Chuck's refusal to admit same was for a couple of reasons.

One, he would not want to be quoted as having said what Jim claimed.Secondly, from my viewpoint he was clearly enjoying himself at my brothers expense.

My gut tells me that from their prior conversations, the manager had once again applied skills he had honed over the years. The first was his ability to quickly size up another human being.

The second was his tremendous grasp of what he truly deemed to be important.

As I watched Coach Tanner, he apparently had picked up something about my own personality as the "older brother". He used his body language and body position to separate Jim and me by moving toward me as I leaned up against the stands - in respect for my arthritic knees

He did all of this as he continued with his denial of my brothers assertion.

Coach also employed an old salesman's trick of touching me periodically as he attempted to bring me into the conversation, while still practicing the old war strategy of "divide and conquer."

I didn't fall for it for a variety of reasons, I really had nothing to contribute, was not nearly the student of the game as these two baseball minds now somewhat entangled, and wasn't all that nuts about salesmen.

A final reason was that I was just having too much fun watching the exchange.

When the conversation was winding down and Jim was deferring to Chuck with the humility we learned growing up - but, still not backing down; someone came over and grabbed Chuck to talk to one more Tanner admirer.

Jim and I watched him walking away. Soon after, Jim commented to me - more than once, "I know what the man said to me and what he said now wasn't it." I agreed and smiled to myself. In their own way - both men were right.

And, if Jim had not taken the time to introduce me to Chuck Tanner, I would have been the only real loser.

At some point down the road, Jim gave me a Chuck Tanner bubblehead doll which I proudly display on my bookcases out on the lanaii.

I'm not sure how much it looks like Chuck but, from what I saw and later read after his death, Chuck was a man capable of displaying a thousand different looks - and obviously one of them was the product of a great sense of humor and an undying affection for true Pirate fans, like my brother.

Here was clearly a man worthy of my hero worship.

RAISING YOUR HOPES

There are a series of little pithy sayings on a raised display sign outside a local dentist's office. Quite often they lift your spirits. At the very least, they may get you to "pause for the cause".

Like us, whoever makes up the sayings realizes there is too much seriousness going on around us.

The most recent message has to do with encouraging you to raise your hopes for both the future and yourself. It says, "Go ahead...Get your hopes up."

Don't know about other motorists who view this sign but; we often smile upon encountering the messages. Sort of, "a humorous thought for the day."

Wife Phyl and I spent a portion of Saturday watching a movie that explored "getting your hopes up." We , really enjoyed it, talked about how we could relate to the plot. The title of the movie is, "It's Complicated."

We recommend it for anyone who, due to a variety of circumstances: graduations, the kid's weddings, birth of a grandchild etc, find themselves interacting with a former spouse.

In the car later we allowed ourselves the pleasure of turning things into a vaudeville routine - similar to the one:

"Thank you!"

"No, Thank you, my good man!"

"Oh, but I insist, Thank You!"

"You're much too kind, sir . It is I who is truly thankful. So, please THANK YOU!" etc., etc.

You get the idea.

Ours went something like this, as we explored our extemporaneous humor genes. We invoked our best S.J. Perelman, as we imagined the possibility of the following conversation taking place in Geckos, a local restaurant:

Friend: "So what's this movie called, that Rendi (the Manager) said you've been raving about?

He: "It's Complicated."

Friend: "I'll bet it is; but surely it can't be that difficult. What's the title?"

She: "It's Complicated"

Friend: " So I heard, but what's it called?"

He: "Like we said, 'It's Complicated."

Friend: (quickly moving to acquaintance status) "Okay, trust me, I got that. But, if you'll let me know what it's called, perhaps I could see it too and sort out the plot for you."

She: "That's okay, we're movie buffs and used to being in the dark; but again,'It's Complicated."

Friend: (who has now become just another customer): "I'm losing patience with you two.Are you suggesting I'm too stupid to be able to figure out the plot and that's why you won't tell me what it's called?"

Wife: " Look, as my husband explained. 'It's Complicated."

(Customer, who we now realize we barely know, leaves quarter tip, exits restaurant in a huff.)

Adds the Wife, "Which is even smaller than a Smart Car."

This is not an unusual routine for the two of us We apparently watched way too much of the Marx Brothers in our youth. We still can't figure out how the elephant got into Groucho's pajamas.

If you think this is bad, you ought to hear the terrible puns when we drive past a herd of cows. It's an utter disgrace.

Should one of our friends, kids or grandkids be riding with us during one of these routines they probably assume we're slightly demented and pray we come to our senses.

Who are we to tell them not to get their hopes up?"

HOW MUCH IS ENOUGH - PART II

Maybe you are among those who believe the NFL owners deserve a larger share of the revenue pie via a re-negotiated labor contract, so they can build more $1.15 billion stadiums.

If so, it may help that logic if you are willing to forget about what comes next: rise in tickets, more expensive seating licenses, and you paying $25 for a medium cup of Pierogies. Sauce is extra.

Being just a little guy in this whole communication stuff, I must admit I wouldn't be sharing your view. My unwavering conclusion is that I believe the NFL and the owners are convinced we fans are "easy prey."

What caused that? The willingness of some fans to spend $200 to stand and watch a game outside a $1.15 billion stadium on a big screen while they pay $19 for a Tex-Mex Margarita and bragging rights?

We are convinced that not only 2 adults, but our 2 kids too, need to experience watching the opening of a wallet as $412. 64 pours out into a NFL owners "povery collection barrel." In Dallas they must have bigger barrels as the cost there for a family of four is $758.58.

NFL Commissioner Goodell says of the Super Bowl, "We put on this event". We beg to differ. We think its the guy paying the $412 and $758 who's footing the Super Bowl bill; instead of teaching his kids the joys of delayed gratification.

Goodells right about one thing, "The NFL takes over the Super Bowl stadium chosen - rent free - and the 32 team owners including the host share equally from ticket sales, concessions, and merchandise.

Could these be the same owners who act like Ali-Babba descendents and claim they're really hurting - while refusing to open their books? So much for, "doing what is in the best interest of the fan."

Charles Dickens is dead and it's unlikely the Commissioner would be too anxious to have to relive his past in the same manner as Scrooge.

There is a sense here that the sensitivity of that W&J college kid/bartender who took a disturbed customer back safely to his home is but a distant memory for the Commish. Trying to get him to reveal what he feels is in the best interest of the fan is a even more distant second.

Speaking of sensitivity, let's again examine that of NFL Executive VP Eric Grubman who had the guts to call Sunday's seating travesty:"an installation issue, and a failure, a shared failure and it's as simple as that."

Who's going to tell him any different? Maybe the LA attorney who just filed the lawsuit on behalf of the ticketbuyers who expected seats?

I've got an idea. Assuming there is a Mrs. Grubman, maybe she could show "Grubby" the error of his ways. Maybe she could explain why it was so important for her to meet with the builders every day when they built their last house in order to make sure they got the right counter tops in their stainless steel kitchen.

"Hey Jerry, next time you build another $1.15 billion stadium, hire a couple Mrs. Grubmans to make sure you get what we're paying for".

Why didn't that happen? To paraphrase the VP, "it wasn't important" And "Grubby", It WAS as SIMPLE AS THAT!

To those guys and gals who are being offered compensation by the NFL for their inconvenience: hold out for a guarantee. God forbid that the future Super Bowl ticket is for a numbered (non-souvenir) folding chair in front of a big screen erected outside the stadium in the frozen north; while you listen to a Sinatra imposter crooning "New York, New York."

Apparently, quality of product and workmanship, as well as careful planning, is too mundane for the NFL to contemplate when their real priority is demanding ,"Where's the money?"

Next time those of you who are fortunate enough to finally find a job and are entrusted to run a big project, you probably don't want to emulate Grubman's wordtrack when asked by the boss, "What went wrong?"

"What went wrong" in todays NFL/Fan environment is that we didn't stand up and say "NO" to disproportionately financing stadiums as well as letting itinerant NFL owners off the hook when, on a whim, they decided they wanted a bigger and more extravagant "house."

If there is a player lockout the only thing that would make it worse is if we agree to go to a half empty stadium and pay to watch a bunch of wannabe scabs give us the performance of a pickup team. We need to show the NFL and the owners we simply will not and cannot take any more.

Oh, and for you guys who are looking for your Congressman to assist; when they panned the crowd in Dallas I think he may have been seated up in the owners box - and he wasn't paying $19 for a margarita.

The margaritas will always be free in the owners box if we continue to insist on "buying a round" for the owners. We could even be charged as an enabler for violating the dram shop act as a "social host".

Cuidado! The owners don't know when they've had enough.

"HOW MUCH IS ENOUGH?" (PART I)

This blogger has ripped the NFL in a few blogs.

It's now good to see others -like The New York Times, Bill Rhoden and the Washington Post's, Sally Jenkins - take a similar approach.

They bashed the seating fiasco in Dallas as well as the bloated Super Bowl to build their case regarding the lack of sensitivity by the NFL management as well as the organizations penchant for distancing themselves from reality.

My own previous NFL gripes were not that complex: I simply asked, "How Much Is Enough?"

As the debut of the NFL films March sitcom "The Owners & Their Money" is about to debut we may well be looking at another lockout.

The 32 owners are now receiving off the top - $1 billion - and, from the bottom, 40% of the remainder; while crying they need more to avoid the poorhouse. And, that doesn't include tax breaks they're receiving from local and state government.

To the average guy or gal the numbers being bounced around are mind boggling - even in a recovering economy. But, when you're a billionaire you really aren't that anxious to remember what it was like when you weren't. That's a big part of the problem.

If you, or someone you know, haven't been able to find a job in a year and a half and are close to foraging for food, nobody could blame you for not choosing to read further. If the economy hasn't already emasculated you; the money, power and greed exercised by the owners and the NFL may do the trick.

Please do not consider me to be a descendent of Socialist Eugene V. Debs. My stand has always been that what's going on here with the NFL clearly isn't right. That opinion seems to be gaining some support from people much better informed than me.

In a recent blog we covered how the NFL threatened to "lock out" Toyota from advertising on NFL broadcasts should they not cease and desist from a suggestion in one of their ads that professional football is a violent and dangerous sport.The NFL official who was quoted claimed the ads put the NFL in an unfair light. Starting to see a pattern here?

That makes absolutely no sense when your Commisioner is saying we need to reduce the violence in the game and Toyota's example was helmet to helmet hits.

Possibly, the official could not recognize the irony of his statement as the type of power he wielded against Toyota (who changed the ad) has corrupted any sanity he may have employed to get the job. Please, read further - he's not alone.

At the recent Super Bowl an estimated 1,250 people were unable to sit in the seats which they thought they had purchased for a considerable amount of money They went to the game without a clue as to the blindside hit awaiting them. Now, comes more sensitivity.

One NFL management member, executive V.P. Eric Grubman offered this as an explanation for the communication and seating gaffe: "The fans who could not be given seats were not contacted sooner because of the 'uncertainty' of the situation." Makes sense to me.

Apparently erroring on the conservative side is now an outdated management strategy and is replaced by the one BP employed, which lead to the massive oil "spill" in the Gulf.

What "uncertainty" was it to which the guy was referring? Well, it's kind of tough to tell. It wasn't made clear by NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell. He was preoccupied by a pre-emptive strike; his lengthy defense that Jerry Jones, the stadium guru, was not to blame.

That act of benevolence could not possibly have anything to do with Mr. Jones being one of the 32 NFL owners who serve as Mr. Goodell's employers, could it?

Only those residing on another planet are unaware that Commissioner Goodell does not represent either the players or you, the fans, in any of the current disputes. He is paid about "$10 mil a year" to represent the 32 NFL team owners - all who are rumored to view him as todays version of a deity. Besides, the ones residing on that other planet are probably watching soccer and couldn't care less.

One rationale by the owners for needing more money is to use it to build more stadiums. The question of "building them at whose eventual expense?" is kind of side stepped. No new stadium has been built since 2006. But, the money keeps rolling in.

Per Sally Jenkins, "The last great building binge in the NFL was from 1995 to 2003, when 21 stadiums were built or refurbished in order to create more 'luxury boxes' at a cost of $6.4 billion. Of that, the public paid $4.4 billion, per Jenkins. She asks,"Why are we giving 32 rich guys that kind of money, just to prey on us at the box office and concessions?"

Jenkins points out that New Jersey, whose deficit is $36 billion, inherited the Meadowlands home of the Giants and the Jets when they upped and moved to their new $1.6 billion, privately financed stadium. She also quotes the Wall Street Journal:"Under the owners old agreement they paid $20 million a year in tax revenues - now, they will pay only $6 million a year

More of "How Much Is Enough" later."

NICE HAT

This morning I wandered into my local Sweetbay grocery store to purchase a USA Today that, for some reason or "tother" - more and more frequently shows up on my driveway, whenever.

I found them tucked in a bin located in front of the first register and one of my favorite cashiers, Mary Ann, another senior.

Normaly M.A. is quick with a smile and a positive comment regarding my often present wide brimmed Panama Jack hat(s).In my old age I seem to be emulating my Dad who also kept a collection of prosthetic legs in the front closet.

This time P.J. was on the shelf at home with his siblings and in it's place atop my receding hairline was a Pittsburgh Steelers golf hat. My reasoning was, "If you were proud to wear it before the game, why hide it now?"(the hat, that is.)

Mary Ann inquired as to how I was doing and my response was "Fine, but probably a lot better if my team had won."

In a sympathetic gesture, she offered, "Well, they played good."

My reply was, "Yeah, but the other team played 'gooder'".

Because of the newpaper delivery foul-up and my greater need for a MacDonald Senior decaf coffee than a review of the online Pittsburgh Post Gazette sports page, there had been no opportunity to see how others viewed the game and it's final result.

When I returned home that was first on my list of things to do.

The reviews by columnists Collier and Cook were not surprising. Their columns suggested that they saw only one team on the field in Dallas, our beloved Steelers, - and they didn't like what they saw.

The fact of the matter was our playing was not abysmal. There were several other adjectives that come to mind - but, this is a family blog.

Actually, we did not play horribly. We just didn't get it done - and the other team did - with a vengeance. Perhaps I'm getting soft but my disappointment isn't nearly as bad as was expected.

It is unclear to me whether or not I've spent too much time with my book on Patience - something I picked up at a local store thinking it was the bawdy autobiography of a British barmaid during the time of King Arthur

"I do but jest, my Lord."

No, the book is appropriately - if not cleverly - called "The Power of Patience" - which come to think of it . . . . . . . Oh, never mind!

One valuable lesson the book has taught me is contained in the sentence: " To live, is in part, to wait." It estimates we spend 11 days a year - in line.

It also points out, "That doesn't count the number of hours in cars and on planes nor wading through electronic voice mail to speak to a real live person." In short, waiting is a normal part of life - like Super Bowl victory anticipation.

Another is, "There is a world of difference between feeling like a failure, and feeling like you have something to learn."

That has something to do with how we resolve to become more patient but are occasionally doomed to failure, when we replicate our past misadventures. Our reaction to our repeated - but less frequent - relapses is important.

To paraphrase the author, MJ Ryan, {the former reaction- above} leads to stuckness and {the latter} to possibility and growth.

The Steelers have made it to the Super Bowl 8 times - and were victorious 6 times. Seems like more of an argument for finding something to celebrate, rather than denigrate.

Of 32 teams, there were only 2 to make it that far. If I could get those odds at the Hard Rock Casino up the road I wouldn't be sitting around on a Monday morning writing these blogs.

Perhaps it would be timely to point out neither of the two competing teams in this year's Super Bowl had a big mouthed coach nor a parlay of this years NFL MVP and NFL Coach of the year. They failed to get the job done too.

While disappointed with the Super Bowl outcome, I choose to see the glass half full.

Now, while I questioned my reaction to the Super Bowl game as possibly a benefit of my readings on Patience - it could also come from being in denial regarding the possibility I've now become somewhat of a rationalizing old fool.

Here again I choose the option of possibility and growth and am anxious to see how the Steelers will acquit themselves with planning, determination, and development when (and if) the 2011 season starts.

Until then, I'm just keeping all of my "Patience" thoughts under my hat.

Go Steelers!

THE SMALLEST STEELER FAN

Like most Steeler fans, I'm looking forward to Sunday's game in Dallas.

But, I'll settle for watching it at a local Irish/English pub with wife and adopted Chihuahua, Bella.

I use the term"adopted" in case she reads this later. She'll do this if I forget to close the office door and turn off the laptop.

The word adopted is also used as you may recall if you've followed this blog for a long time. You may remember the blog where she claimed she was a slave, and demanded reparation as we bought her at the local flea market, The Red Barn.

It's obviously a can of worms I really don't want to open again.

But, that's my curse for us having bought (oops) adopted a Chihuaua who has the power of speech. This occurred when she was struck in the head by a cluster of bottle bush blossums that fell from the back yard tree bearing the same name.

I won't repeat what her first words were.

Anyway, she has turned into one of Bradenton's favorite pets . To more than a few hundred people who frequent animal friendly pubs she's also a big hit.

Folks love to come over to our table and strike up her acquaintance. I like these folks, as - like me- they tend to repeat the same stories over and over again. We've struck up sort of a Bella fan club of our own.

Bella who turns into a erudite 4 year old come May 22 seems to enjoy the company as much as as the fans do. She has a pleasant disposition that amazes most people, and will only bark or growl upon the sight of someone wearing a Patriots cap or an I.C.E tee shirt.

Then she becomes a Tiger instead of a Chihuahua.

Hopefully, there will be no reoccurence of that up at the Pub this Sunday evening.

We find we enjoy watching the Super Bowl with other Steeler fans, particularly when we have an entrant in the contest. Unfortunately, as we are gowing older - our pub attendance with friends will last no longer than the first half - particularly if it's a late afternoon or evening game.

Then we usually retire early to the quiet of our own home and the 52 inch Sony.

Our original plans to watch the game were changed for reasons too complicated to go into here.

I will be watching the game with heightened and mixed emotions as Bella talked me into giving her Green Bay and spotting her 8 POINTS.

What was I thinking?

She may be a small fan - but one who is sneaky quick too.

"EXCEPTIONAL" EXCERPTS

Occasionally, I receive E-mails that have nothing to do with the Pirates, Obama, Sports, Reminiscing or just politics in general.

It seems like more and more the funny E-mails are becoming rare - and that's a shame in my estimation.

Here are some recent "excerpts that -are also exceptions" . I have edited or paraphrased some of them to fit situations to which I can really relate.
-----------------------------------------------------------

Was learning cursive really necessary?

Map Quest needs to start their directions on #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

To the audio/video experts: Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray?I really don't want to have to restart my collection ---- again.

I asked a longtime married guy recently, "To what do you attribute the longevity of your marriage?" . His response was"fitted sheets". (Ask your wife to explain that one. You apparently don't do the laundry).

For all those of you living in a senior community, would you agree obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

I wish that Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

I think a freezer deserves a light as well.

Shirts get dirty. Underwear get's dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them for ever.

Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

I decided while attempting to master my new computer with all it's many intricacies that what is really missing is a sarcasm font.

Perhaps part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history when you die.

I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.

How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?

Nothing gives me more of a feeling of power and camaraderie than when I'm in an entire line of cars that team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front.

The first testicular guard, the "Cup" was used in Hockey in 1874 and the first helmet was used in 1974. That means it only took 100 years for men to realize that their brain is also important.

Show that to your wife - and you're exceptional too.