The outpouring of appreciation for Ed Snider after the chairman’s passing last week was unprecedented for a sports owner in Philadelphia, if not in any city. Even though the Flyers hadn’t won a Stanley Cup in 41 years, the fans loved him like he was one of them.
Which, in fact, he was. Among many reasons for the adulation that Snider built over the half-century he ruled the Flyers was his passion for winning. When Snider lashed out at the refs, or the other team, or the Russians, he was speaking the language of his customers.
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Why have the other three owners in this city learned nothing from this remarkable man? Why is Joshua Harris still tone-deaf when he talks to Sixers fans? Why is Jeffrey Lurie so detached from the people who love his Eagles? And why is John Middleton still hiding out now that he is clearly the new face of the Phillies?
Harris’ shortcomings are obvious every time he opens his mouth. The billionaire can’t get through a sentence without blurting out ten-dollar terms like base-loading and cadre. He sounds like an elitist because he is one. Just ask the kids in North Jersey who couldn’t play soccer because Harris landed his helicopter on their field last year.
The worst part of Harris’ three-year tenure is the sad fact that he really has no interest in bonding with the fans. It’s bad enough the team has a pitiful 116-278 record under his ownership, but he found a GM, Sam Hinkie, who was somehow even more inept at communicating than he is.
Most fans believe Harris will finally reveal himself when he sells the Sixers at a huge profit as soon as they become respectable again. And they are right. He is an investor, a hedge-fund wheeler-dealer, and nothing more. The sooner he leaves, the better.
Lurie is a more complicated case. He has owned the Eagles for 22 years, but he has never risen above the designation of “just OK.” He has been excellent in the community, commendable in the standings (despite no championships) and clearly is not a ruthless businessman like Harris.
The lesson Lurie never learned from Snider is decisiveness. Snider was not always right, but he was true to his convictions. Lurie appears to have no convictions. He disposed of long-time partner Joe Banner for Howie Roseman three years ago, before dumping Roseman for Chip Kelly, before restoring Roseman to GM.
One year, Lurie commits to wild free-agent spending – exactly like Snider – but then the next year he preaches patience. Unlike Snider, he speaks publicly only on rare occasions, often contradicting his previous positions. Even after all these years, it’s a fair question to ask if Lurie really has any idea what he’s doing.
The owner who has the best chance to replicate Snider’s legacy is Middleton, a billion-dollar cigar magnate who only recently has stepped into the spotlight. He is said to be as intense about winning as Ed Snider, just as wealthy, and equally temperamental.
The lesson Ed Snider left behind is a valuable one for all of the current owners to heed. The best way to succeed as a sports owner in Philadelphia is to let the fans know you care as much as they do, and to tell them so in a language they understand.
There are two obstacles blocking him from a path to popularity in Philadelphia – the old-boy network within the organization preventing him from acquiring more than 50 percent of the club, and his own reluctance to assert his will.
Snider was never hesitant about doing what needed to be done, regardless of the ramifications. Middleton didn’t get so successful in business by tiptoeing around the people in his way. He needs to apply the same approach to sports ownership. He needs to take control.
The lesson Ed Snider left behind is a valuable one for all of the current owners to heed: The best way to succeed as a sports owner in Philadelphia is to let the fans know you care as much as they do, and to tell them so in a language they understand.
If Snider could do that for half a century, is it really asking too much?
• • •
The future of the Phillies has a name. It is Vince Velasquez.
If you were one of the 18,079 who attended the Thursday matinee last week at Citizens Bank Park, you need to read no further. You already know just what this 23-year-old kid is capable of doing. And if you haven’t been paying attention because the Phillies are still a bad team, it’s time to take a peek into the future.
Vince Velasquez is perfect for Philadelphia, not unlike the way Chase Utley was in the past era. He is bold, no-nonsense, an intense competitor. His complete game shutout was remarkable for someone as inexperienced as he is, but the real story is how he accomplished that 3-0 victory.
One of five players acquired from Houston in the Ken Giles trade last winter, Velasquez struck out 16 San Diego batters with a blistering fastball in the high 90s and an impressive array of other pitches. Even better, he wanted the ball in the ninth inning.
When I talked to him last Friday on my WIP radio show, Velasquez said there was “no question” he would pitch the ninth inning even though it is April and his pitch count had already reached 102. In that final inning, he hit 97 miles per hour three times and struck out the side.
Watching him pitch, I couldn’t believe how stupid the Astros were to allow an arm that amazing to leave their organization for a relief pitcher with only one year of success in the big leagues. Giles is talented – for one inning a game, maybe – but Velasquez has a much greater upside.
(In the interest of full disclosure, I howled about the deal when new GM Matt Klentak made it. In other words, I’m even dumber than the Astros.)
Vince Velasquez brings extraordinary talent to the mound every fifth day, but that’s not the only reason to be excited about him. He gives fans a reason to watch the Phillies again. He represents more than just some vague promises about better days ahead. If you saw him pitch last Thursday, you saw the future. Because he is it.
• • •
Kobe Bryant’s final game in a brilliant 20-year career was a perfect reflection of him. It was bogus.
Now, please understand. He was a terrific player for most of those 20 seasons, one of the best in history. He was a winner, too – with five NBA championships. In his prime, he was also the best show in basketball, with exquisite shooting, deft ball-handling and a knack for playing his best when it mattered most.
But he was also a brooding jerk with a record of bad behavior.
First of all, he was a Philadelphia kid in name only. He used his days growing up in our city to promote himself here, especially in the 2001 NBA Finals. The truth is, he is about as Philly as an In ‘n Out burger.
Then there was that unfortunate incident in Colorado with the chambermaid. Whatever happened that day, it did not suddenly disappear from his résumé because he bought his wife a $4 million ring or wriggled out of legal action behind an arsenal of high-paid lawyers.
And finally, there was his strained relationship with Shaquille O’Neal and many of the other former teammates who had to put up with his moody, egomaniacal antics. Some of those old pals were there to send him off last week, no doubt quietly cringing at their own hypocrisy.
In the end, with a Utah team happily playing the role of the Washington Generals, Bryant scored 60 points – on 50 shots! – and left in a hailstorm of cheers and accolades from Jack Nicholson and the other Hollywood types who have made a living out of pretending.
Happy endings are a requirement in La-La Land, so Bryant’s final goodbye was ideal in that regard. But if you actually believe there was anything real about that last game, then Nicholson was right when he exclaimed in A Few Good Men: “You can’t handle the truth.”
And finally . . . .
• If there was any doubt left that the Flyers will go quietly in their first-round playoff series against Washington, it was removed when Steve Mason – the primary reason the team made the post-season – allowed that 101-foot shot to squirt between his legs in Game 2 on Saturday night. It’s over, people. Caps in four. Sorry.
• How sweet was it to see Jonathan Papelbon blow the save Sunday – and a sweep by his Washington Nationals – with another late-inning meltdown? The three hitters who humbled Papelbon were Peter Bourjos, Andres Blanco and Freddie Galvis. After the game, Papelbon said the Nats had still won the series. Yes. Because he didn’t pitch in the first two games.
• LeSean McCoy may not be in the clear yet for that infamous bar fracas on Feb. 7. Bravo to the state attorney general’s office for conducting an investigation of its own, after the DA backed off because of insufficient evidence. Two cops were beaten up that night. Justice has not yet been served.
• Where Chip Kelly failed, Jeff Fisher succeeded. The Rams coach managed to pull off a trade with the Titans to No. 1 in the draft for one of the two top quarterbacks. Fisher ended up swapping the top three picks in the next two drafts – an offer similar to the ex-Eagle coach’s last year for Marcus Mariota. Timing is everything, isn’t it?
• The Eagles' new schedule looks easy early, rough in the middle and exciting at the end, with all three NFC rivals here in December. If nothing else, it promises a memorable New Year’s Day, with a potentially crucial game against the Dallas Cowboys right next to the Mummer’s Day Parade. Early prediction: Alcohol will be a factor.