The Reds are treading water metaphorically, your lazy TML host was treading water literally last week and the opposing parties in UC-v-Brannen are trying not to drown. Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends.
Any day now, the lawyer for former UC basketball coach John Brannen will file a lawsuit against athletic director John Cunningham and president Neville Pinto, to contest the way they handled Brannen’s dismissal and to demand monetary compensation. What could have been merely an unfortunate chapter in UC’s proud basketball history instead is an ugly little war with no real winner.
Meantime. . .
UC has made it known that Brannen committed an NCAA violation by paying for a player’s doctor’s visit last year. It cost Brannen $135 to send one of his players to a mental health professional.
Good luck basing your “with cause’’ case partly on a coach helping out a player who needed money to cover a doctor’s visit to cope with Covid anxiety. Brannen might have violated the letter of the NCAA’s (often indecipherable and always endless) law, but certainly not its spirit. These are unique times.
Meantime, former UC star Jarron Cumberland gave an interview to The Athletic in which he unloaded on Brannen. The coach’s faults? His practices were too hard, and Cumberland didn’t care for Brannen’s offense. “I told him I didn’t like the offense, and really, I wasn’t running through it in practice,’’ Cumberland told Justin Williams.
I’m not sure what “running through it’’ means. It sounds like Cumberland didn’t appreciate the offense, so he wasn’t practicing it.
That’s not how it works.
Cumberland said he was throwing up after every practice. He said practice wasn’t “fun.’’ Even if you accept the notion that high-level practice for aspiring professionals currently in school on full rides should be a good time, that’s not a firing offense. Nor is a coach paying $135 out of his pocket for a kid dealing with a mental health concern.
And show me an athlete, even in high school, who didn’t puke during an especially tough workout. When I was trying to drop pounds to make weight as a 105-pound wrestler, our manager would make me do grass drills (burpies, up-downs, whatever) in a 90-degree practice room, then roll me up in the mat so just my head was visible. He’d watch me sweat for a few minutes, making sure I didn’t lose consciousness. It wasn’t fun.
These are issues that could have and should have been dealt with across a conference table. The athletic director reminds the basketball coach who’s boss, suggests firmly that the coach be open to changing his methods and that he, the AD, really doesn’t want to have this conversation again.
The coach gathers his players and reminds them who’s boss. He might take input from upper-class leaders regarding his coaching style, but he’s under no obligation to apply it. He suggests firmly that players do what he asks or find another place to play basketball. Even in 2021, players are not in charge of college basketball teams.
This didn’t happen, at least not that we’re aware of. Instead, we have an AD and coach who rarely spoke. We had players offer anonymous critiques of Brannen and enter the transfer portal. (Props to Cumberland for putting his name to his opinions.) We had a university soil a coach’s reputation without ever saying exactly why.
And we have a lawsuit on Brannen’s behalf, expected to be filed any day now.
Hey, great work all around.
If UC wanted to fire the man, it should have been prepared to pay the man. He was owed $5 million. Says so right there in the contract. The firing still would have been questionable. Get rid of a coach after two years, one of them bloodied by COVID? But at least it would have been honorable business. What do we call what’s still happening now?
It’s possible a court scrum will reveal all sorts of heinous gripes against John Brannen. We don’t know that. We know only what has appeared publicly, most of it anonymously, none of it worthy of his dismissal after two winters.
Sad, avoidable stuff.
Now, then. . .
WATCHING THE REDS DELIVER A DRAB SHOW LAST NIGHT, the thought occurred:
This is who they are.
Not a terribly original opinion, I know. And it could be proven false. The Big 162 is good at revealing truth. Only 123 truths to go.
But I’ve misplaced my tarot cards and the Ouija board is in the shop. I can only go by what I’m seeing. What am I seeing?
In getting to 19-20, the Reds:
Have scored 208 runs, allowed 209.
Haven’t won more than two in a row since starting 6-1.
Have been at or below .500 since April 21.
Are 7-7 in May.
Have played the NL’s dregs 16 times – Colorado, Pittsburgh, Arizona are a combined 24 games under .500 – and gone 8-8.
They’re the working definition of OK, which is pretty much who we thought they’d be after losing Bauer and declining to bring back Iglesias, Bradley and DeSclafani and penny-hoarding at shortstop.
Roughly 25 percent into the season, the Reds don’t yet know who they are. They don’t have enough answers to essential questions:
Who’s the shortstop? The Suarez Experiment has bombed.
Who’s Nick Senzel? An everyday player without an everyday position.
Who’s Amir Garrett, considered a vital late-inning reliever? Who closes?
What happens if Castillo and Gray aren’t Castillo and Gray? They’re a combined 1-8 in 14 starts. The team’s record with them is 4-10. The Reds are 1-7 when Castillo pitches.
Generally a team needs solid, consistent starting pitching to reel off bursts of wins. Without the two studs at the top, the Reds can’t do that.
You look at other teams not named Pittsburgh in the division. They have more dependable parts. The Cardinals, for example: Arenado, Goldschmidt, Flaherty, Molina, promising young position players like Edman, Carlson, Bader and O’Neill, a deep bullpen.
The Brewers (21-20) are scufflin’, but Yelich has played in just 10 games and they have young studs anchoring the rotation and Josh Hader wiping out the 9th.
The Cubs don’t make hearts skip a beat.
Very likely the Reds will have to win the Central to qualify for October. At the quarter-pole, they don’t look ready for that.
TRIP REPORT. . . An advantage to being old is if you don’t get fired, you accrue lots o’ vacation. Don’t hate me because I’m old.
Spent eight days at the palatial beach outpost in Bradenton. 86 and sunny is easy to take. One new trip: To Crystal River to hang out with the manatees. Always wanted to do it, never have. Better late than never. Fabulous.
Once you get an hour or so north of Tampa, Florida yawns and stretches out. And produces little gem-towns like Crystal River. We rented a double kayak for three hours and just. . . floated. The water is green and clean and perfect for swimming. And man, the manatees. Just lolling there beneath us. You’re not supposed to touch them, but occasionally, they’ll touch you. Gentle creatures that make you want to protect the planet.
You don’t need a wetsuit this time of year, just a mask and a snorkel.
Then we found by accident a dive restaurant on the water. The Crab Plant had unbroken waterfront views and medium-sized Maryland crabs for a ridiculously cheap $24.99 a dozen. As we feasted, manatees glided past.TML sez ckout the manatees.
COLUMBUS REDISCOVERED ITS SANITY and changed the name of its soccer team back to Crew, from Columbus SC. Which prompts me to suggest FC Cincinnati find itself a nickname.
I know it’s so very Euro to name you team FC or SC or City. It’s also awkward, overly precious, pretentious and unoriginal.
Teams need nicknames. Cincinnati isn’t Europe. Pro soccer is popular enough in America now, without copying the Old World. Drop the FC. Or, better, add a nickname. Columbus Crew SC isn’t bad. Cincinnati (Nickname) FC could be, too.
Think of the merchandising possibilities.
TUNE O’ THE DAY. . . Maybe my favorite Beatles torch tune that never gets air time.
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