Idiots Write About Sports

(You know the bummer thing about taking a vacation, even when it’s to someplace beautiful like Kauai? It takes you about a week to get back up to speed with the day job and the chores and the little things that make up our modern go-go lifestyle, so diversions like your barely read sports blog have to fall by the wayside. This is particularly bothersome when events worthy of your own unique brand of commentary occur — apparently, there was some brouhaha between the Rangers and A’s fans last weekend! — and it takes you a week just to clear the decks to the point where you’re ready to say something somewhat reasonably informed on the subject. Because by that time, everything that can be said has been said — including by me over in David Pinto’s blog. Still, I’m going to post what I would have posted last week, and if you could pretend that the ramblings below weren’t repetitive and dated, I’d be much obliged.)

So in the third inning of last Monday’s A’s-Rangers game, right after Texas starter Juan Dominguez tallied two consecutive balks to plate Marco Scutaro without even throwing a pitch in the vicinity of home, I said to myself, “Well, that’s about the weirdest thing I’m going to see tonight.”

Then came the bottom of the fifth, with one out and Scutaro on first, Mark Kotsay hit a ground ball to Mark Teixeira, who tagged first for the second out. Scutaro, halfway to second, realized that he did not have to continue running in that direction and, eluding Teixeira’s tag, returned to first. For those of you scoring at home, that’s 3-unassisted on the ground-out, with the runner holding at first. “Well,” I said to myself, “that’s a fairly odd play, too. But surely, that will be an end to all the craziness.”

And that’s when Ranger pitcher Frank Francisco threw a chair.

A couple of thoughts on all of this, from the apparently safe vantage point of my couch:

• Point the First: Blame for the entire incident falls squarely on the shoulders of Frank Francisco, Doug Brocail and whatever other knucklehead wearing a Texas jersey decided it would be a good idea to venture into the stands to dispense some justice of the two-fisted variety.

Not some of the blame. Not most of the blame. Not 75 and 9/10ths percent of the blame. All of it.

“But Phil,” you might counter. “Surely, the fan who heckled the delicate flowers who make up the Texas bullpen must have said something to get their collective Irish up. Something inflammatory and vulgar and not at all nice.”

To which my first response would be, so what’s your point?

I scored fairly well on the verbal portion of the SATs. I have a fairly recent copy of a Meriam-Webster dictionary within easy reach on my desk. I make my living writing and editing and otherwise working with words. And thus far in my career, I have yet to come across a word or combination of words so vile that the listener’s recourses are limited to 1) charging into the stands, 2) instigating a brawl, or 3) tossing a chair at the offending party.

Of course, that assumes that the heckler involved in last week’s incident actually said something vile. According to eyewitness accounts, that appears to not be the case.

A’s season ticket holder Craig Bueno, 42, of Livermore, says he was doing what he always does to the pitchers of opposing teams: He was heckling them.

“It’s was just normal stuff, fan stuff,” Bueno told KGO-TV. “No profanity — normal heckling, like ‘Who’s gonna take the loss?’ and ‘Who’s going to win?’ Things like that.”

Witnesses corroborated his account, and Athletics security officials said that Bueno, who sits in the stands with a group of fellow Hayward firefighters, and his friends had not been out of line.

“Who’s gonna take the loss?” — why the nerve! Fetch me my vengeance chair!

Kidding aside, let me run the risk of repeating myself, since the “heckler brought it on himself” theme will become a leitmotif throughout coverage and commentary of this incident — there is no excuse for a major-league ballplayer to go into the stands or throw a chair into a crowd. If you find yourself wanting to append that last sentence with a “but,” we will agree on very little from this point forward.

• Point the Second: Lest you read that above section and conclude, “Aha! Phil is one of those idiots who thinks that fans can do wrong and have the right to say anything to players, no matter how churlish and inappropriate,” let me respond: you could not be more wrong. I have no problem telling witless hecklers and over-the-line fans to cram it — particularly when they are smaller than me and easily cowed. I do not believe fans can do no wrong — I just happen to believe, based on what I saw on television and read in the papers, that the fans in this particular case did no wrong.

But you know what? Let’s pretend otherwise. Let’s pretend all the eyewitnesses and stadium officials are pulling our collective leg, and that the hecklers spent last Monday showering Brocail, Francisco, et. al with an unending stream of verbal filth. You know what I do when I’m seated in a section with such a fan? I discretely and quickly alert an usher.

It’s a radical course of action I realize and not nearly so manly as making smashy-smashy with someone’s face, but I find it to be rather effective.

There’s been some uninformed bleating that security at the Your Name Here Coliseum is lax and that particularly obstreperous hecklers are rarely, if ever, given the boot. At the risk of seeming uncharitable, I have to point out something, as an A’s season ticket-holder for three seasons:

These people don’t know what they’re talking about.

Two instances in particular stand out. Back in August 2001, I attended a game between the Athletics and Cleveland Indians in which Gotham favorite John Rocker made his first appearance at the Coliseum. Late in the game, with Rocker seated in the bullpen, a fan attempted to engage Rocker in an animated conversation, doubtlessly about the reliever’s opinions of the No. 7 train versus other transit routes. Less than 30 seconds later, the fan was being frog-walked out of the building by four security guards.

Then, during last year’s playoffs, after Johnny Damon collided with Damian Jackson, a fan near the Boston dugout apparently said something unfeeling about the condition of the players since David Ortiz — not really known as a hothead — began striding purposefully toward the heckler who, by now, was making the universal gesture for “come get me.” That’s when a security guard walked up behind the heckler and — I swear I’m not making this up — grabbed him by the trachea with such force that the entire section where I was seated gasped audibly. The heckler was removed, presumably not by his trachea.

That’s two potentially heated situations in which Coliseum security immediately brought the hammer down on offending fans. If Doug Brocail or any other Ranger pitcher whose delicate sensibilities were shattered beyond repair had simply asked security to remove their tormentor, the odds are pretty good last week’s situation would have been diffused as well.

• Point the Third: You want to know what wouldn’t have diffused the situation — declaring a forfeit. Yet, that’s exactly what the umpires almost did — “the game’s umpires and managers reportedly discussed options of either suspending the game or awarding it to the Rangers through a forfeit,” Newsday reports — for a situation caused entirely by the Rangers!

Yeah, the fans would have left the stadium in an orderly fashion without further incident after that.

Imagine — a game between two teams battling for a playoff spot awarded to a team whose players charged into the stands to beat up fans. That would be a lovely precedent for Major League Baseball.

“Branca throws. There’s a long drive. It’s gonna be… I believe… The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! Bobby Thompson hits into the lower de… wait a minute. Ralph Branca has just punched a heckler. Never mind. The Dodgers win by forfeit!”

• Point the Fourth: If you happen to see the video, there’s a telling segment — right before Frank Francisco decides it’s time to rearrange the furniture — involving Doug Brocail and the heckler. As they have what could charitably be described as a frank exchange of views, a security guard has ensconced himself between the two, holding up his arms in a gesture background singers around the world will recognize as “Step off, my man.” Significantly, the guard is facing Brocail as he makes this gesture.

It is the author’s experience that when security personnel are trying to nip a fracas in the bud, they rarely turn their back on the person they perceive to be the problem.

Please keep this in mind when assessing blame.

• Point the Fifth: You know who didn’t exactly cover himself in glory the other night? Buck Showalter. This is a guy with a reputation, deserved or otherwise, for being a stand-up guy who demands that his players conduct themselves by a high standard on and off the field. There’s an excerpt from Buster Olney’s new book that talks about how, as Yankee manager, Showalter rid the team of poor-attitude guys. So how does Buck the Disciplinarian respond when a large chunk of his new team showed very little in the way of self-control?

By pointing fingers elsewhere, of course.

It’s a break from the normal trash you hear from the fans. [Monday night] went way over the line.

I guess it’s a lot easier to boot Mel Hall off your team when he’s at the end of his career than criticize one of a player who’s shown a bit of promise even after he physically attacks someone.

I’ve always considered Buck Showalter an insufferable martinet. It’s good to see we can add “hypocritical phony” to that list as well.

• Point the Sixth: Up until now, we have not really dealt with Frank Francisco, largely because he is a worthless punk unworthy of our attention — although Rangers GM John Hart would take issue with that assessment.

No. 1, I know Frankie Francisco. We really do like this young man. He’s a nice, humble young man.

Perhaps, John. All the same, I suggest you maybe switch to the past-tense when referring to a chair-tossing hooligan as a nice, young man.

This was missing from most media accounts, which gave the impression that Frank Francisco was sitting in the Rangers bullpen at the time the Texas players had all they could stands and they couldn’t stands no more, but Francisco had already appeared in the game. He was sitting in the Rangers dugout when Doug Brocail took it upon himself to enforce decorum. One of the San Francisco Chronicle reports referenced above estimates that Francisco was sitting 100 feet away at the time tensions began escalating — of course, that assumes Francisco was sitting at the edge of the dugout closest to the bullpen. Odds are, he was even farther away. I don’t know anyone whose hearing is that good.

So, even if you’re of the mind that fans who say mean things to players deserve to get hit in the face — and let’s just reiterate that you’re a nitwit if you do — Francisco was nowhere near the vicinity of where Brocail was mortally insulted. Rather than being a guy pushed too far by someone’s over-the-line taunts, Francisco is someone who had to run anywhere from 100 to 200 feet to be in the same area code as the incident. And the first thing he does when he gets there is throw a chair.

There are a lot of words you can use to describe someone like that. “Nice, young man” ain’t any of them. I think I’ll stick with “felon,” thanks.

• Point the Seventh: Say, what did that no-good heckler tell the Ranger bullpen, anyhow? We know it was “over the line” — Buck Showalter told us so. And why would we have any reason to doubt his account?

Here’s what Francisco “Don’t Call Me Frank” Cordero had to say on Sporting News Radio: “[The fan] was way out of control.”

Yeah, yeah — we heard that from Buck. Over the line. Out of control. A break from the usual trash. But what specifically did the fan say? The Rangers players involved have had ample opportunity to detail, clearly and specifically, the awful verbal assault they had to endure, and apart from some vague statements about lines being crossed, they’ve declined to elaborate.

Doesn’t that strike anyone else as vaguely fishy?

“What those people said to us was inhuman!”

“Well.. what did they say?”

“I’d rather not repeat it. But take my word for it, it was awful.”

Here’s the assumption I’m working under: the Rangers have clammed up on exactly what set Doug Brocail and the bullpen off because the public reaction will likely be, “That’s it? For that, you throw a chair?” Yeah, yeah — I’m a cynical, untrusting cat. It’s my cross to bear.

• Point the Eighth: Besides, if the Rangers were to actually outline the doubtlessly pedestrian heckling hurled their way, then the media would be less inclined to write stirring defenses of those poor, put-upon ballplayers.

There’s been the predictable onslaught of preachy hand-wringing and outraged pearl-clutching from reporters who apparently couldn’t be bothered to familiarize themselves with what actually happened when a soapbox was beckoning so seductively. However, we come here today to honor the worst of the worst — the pundits, columnists and blowhards who missed the point, ignored the facts and, in some cases, downplayed physical assault in their rush to tsk-tsk impertinent fans.

Bronze-Winning Dope: The Chronicle’s C.W. Nevius, who acts like he’s conceding some major ground by writing “Let’s just stipulate right off the bat that Frank Francisco is a moron. … What he did was stupid” before using the balance of his time to denounce the hecklers who doubtlessly baited poor Frank.

No, C.W., what Frank Francisco did was not stupid. It was a crime. Perhaps someone on the Chronicle crime beat can explain the distinction to you.

Anyhow, look for C.W.’s next columns “That’s What Robbery Victims Get for Having Nice Things,” “Rape Victims Shouldn’t Dress So Slutty,” and “Murdered Woman Probably Had It Coming.”

Pompous Jackass, Runner-Up: Randy Galloway of the Fort Worth Star Telegram who reminds us that Frank Francisco is “a nice kid by all accounts” and muses that “It’s just too bad the chair missed that punk who was doing all the mouthing.”

They grow ‘em classy in Texas.

Incidentally, Randy Galloway’s e-mail is rgalloway@star-telegram.com. For all you spam spiders out there, that’s rgalloway@star-telegram.com — you heard me, rgalloway@star-telegram.com.

Yeah, maybe it’s wrong for me to post the guy’s e-mail just so that he’s flooded with spam. But you know what? I’m a nice guy kid, by all accounts. So you can hardly blame me for being baited into doing something wrong. Right, Randy?

Grand Wizard of Idiocy: CNNSI.com’s John Donovan, who writes an absolutely hysterical column — and not “hysterical” in the “ha-ha funny” sense. Some of Donovan’s pearls of wisdom:

If some three-sheets-to-the-wind nincompoop spends all evening at the local ballpark screaming himself hoarse at the visiting team, is that funny? Is that clever? Is that OK?

And:

all I could think was: Nice example we’re setting for the youth of America here.

Nice freaking example.

“So there we were,” Jimmy says the next day at school, “and the one Rangers guy with the goatee was yelling ‘F—- you,’ really loud, and the guy in the stands was screaming back ‘You guys suck …,’ right to his face, and everybody was cussing, ‘F—- this’ and ‘F—- that,’ and the security guards were getting shoved around, and then somebody grabbed somebody, and then some player — I don’t know who he was — threw a chair into a bunch of people right next to me. A chair! Hit some woman in the face. And then the whole team came over and everyone started booing and screaming some more … man, it was just so coooool.”

Wow. Powerful stuff. Shame none of the things Donovan describes with such outrage actually occurred in Oakland last week. That’s like seeing a guy do a rolling stop at an intersection and stopping him to berate him on the dangers of drunk driving. You’re taking the right position but citing the wrong example.

Also, in a column decrying the end of civility, is it really a good idea to toss around descriptors like “moronic” and “imbecilic?” I guess I should consult with Donovan’s real-estate agent for a good price on glass houses in the Atlanta area.

(I wrote an e-mail to Donovan that made some of these points. Perhaps it will appear in his mailbag column (doubtlessly in an abridged format); more than likely, it will not.)

The best response to all this media breast-beating comes from King Kaufman, who wonders why fans would take heat for a player physically assaulting them.

The prevailing argument in a lot of what I’m reading and hearing is that this thing has to be the fans’ fault, because players just don’t attack fans without provocation. This is such an asinine idea I don’t know where to start.

I wish I could throw a chair at the head of everyone who makes that argument, just so I can tell them it was their fault. Hey, man, writers don’t just attack people without provocation.

I couldn’t have said it better myself. And he said it much more succintcly than I ever could.

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