Ratto: Could Barkley and Webber buy the Kings?


Ratto: Could Barkley and Webber buy the Kings?

April 13, 2011RATTO ARCHIVE
Ray Ratto
The idea of Charles Barkley and Chris Webber buying the Sacramento Kings is so delicious, so exciting and so utterly preposterous that it should happen, at least in one parallel universe. A universe, we can all agree, that we should be able to at least visit, since it wont be happening in the one we currently inhabit.It seems that the fellows were giving the Maloof brothers, Chip and Dale, a right hiding for turning the Kings into a slick unlit hairpin turn in the NBA autobahn on Inside The NBA last night, and in doing so, they announced that they would buy the Kings.
This promptly induced two thoughts:1. With whose money will they be performing this act of mercy?And 2. Do those two erudite and charming gentlemen realize that theres the sale price, and then theres the debt load, and then theres the arena money, and then theres the investors to jolly up, and that 300 million turns into 800 awfully fast?NEWS: Kings finale feels like farewell for Sacramento
And then a third question leaped up: Do they understand that TNT will put contracts out on their lives for blowing up the best show on television? There are only so many Bones re-runs you can show before people start noticing.In short, if they can do this, great. But they cant do this. You know it. I know it. Sacramento knows it. Hell, even they know it. I mean, Ernie Johnsons face went all Celtic green when he heard them say it, because he knew they were already covetously eyeing his portfolio:Cmon, Ernie, you know you want to. You can have your section: Ernies Straight Men. Itll be fun. Besides, you dont want to work with backup versions of us, do you? Oh, and do you have Kenny Smiths Twitter account?Give them credit, though, for making the Maloof boys feel uncomfortable. The Maloofs were heroes in Sacramento when they bought the team from Gregg Luginbill and equally unmoneyed partners, and they stayed heroes until their other businesses tanked, and they couldnt get a new downtown arena, and the Kings got swindled in that playoff game with the Lakers, and like that there.RELATED: Is there enough room for 3 NBA teams in L.A?
Then they became public enemies. And if Barkley and Webber become the new faces of the franchise, they will really be yesterdays news.But the backhand that is relocating their jaws right now is the same backhand that will land on Barkley and Webber when they discover what it will take to revivify the Monarchy (as opposed to the Monarchs, which is another story entirely). Presumably the sale price will be north of the current Forbes valuation of 293M. But for arguments sake, lets say they make it work at 300M for purposes of math. They will now have a bad team, in an aging arena, on the outskirts of Bend, Oregon, in a state that is so much more broke than the Maloofs that they make the Maloofs look like Monte Carlo.And the City of Sacramento, which already has Kevin Johnson as mayor, does not have Kevin Johnsons money to play with, either. In short, its a broke team in a broke city in a broke state, and only enormous amounts of money, energy, spirit and money will change its fortunes.Put it this way. If the team costs 300M, the arena is going to run another 500M after all, you have to include the spiraling cost of graft. And in case you havent noticed, America is running out of billionaires with money bursting from their couches.Unless, of course, Larry Ellison, who was bearded out of the Warrior sale by Chris Cohans desperate desire never to sell to him, decides that he could do this team instead. Hes got money on money.He also has enough ego that he could do this without Barkley and Webber, and even if he wanted them for the sake of camaraderie, he doesnt want them around to make actual decisions. And one did not get the feeling last night that Chas. and C-Webb wanted to buy the Kings to be silent partners.Thus, the story that the Maloofs may not have the owner votes to leave Sactown, while gratifying, doesnt actually bell the cow, which is, Who wants a ball team?Charles Barkley and Chris Webber do. But their wanting it is about as useful as saying I want it. I mean, it would be fun and all, but Im a little short right now. Its tax day, got kids in school, and I only have so much bone marrow, blood and organs to sell.And so, with all due respect to the fellas and their fervor in the cause, do CharlesnChris. I mean, theres money, and then theres money, yknow?

A sports-related pie-fixing scandal? Hell never felt so fun


A sports-related pie-fixing scandal? Hell never felt so fun

I’m liking this 2017 so far. Then again, after 2016, nearly any year would be an improvement.

Just this last weekend we got a flat-earth scandal that turned into a mock-up about media self-importance and fake news (yay Kyrie Irving and his impish sense of satire!).

We got the overblown Russell-Hates-Kevin narrative, and the faux Russell-Secretly-Loves-Kevin counternarrative, all because we are stunningly attracted to meaningless and utterly contrived drama (yay our ability to B.S. ourselves!).

We got the NBA All-Star Game ripped for having no defense even though last year’s game was, if anything, worse (yay short attention span!).

We got the Boogie Cousins trade and the national revulsion of all the thought processes the Sacramento Kings put into this perpetually rolling disaster (yay making Boogie and Vivek Ranadive household names!).

And now we got the Great Sutton United Pie-Fixing Scandal. Yeah, pie-fixing. Hell never felt so fun.

So here’s the deal. Sutton United, a very small fry in English soccer, got to the fifth round of the FA Cup, a competition in which all the clubs in England are commingled and play each other until one team remains. The big clubs almost always win, so any time a small club goes deep, it’s a big deal.

Anyway, Sutton went deeper in the competition than nearly anyone in the last century, a charming development given that it is such a small club that it had a stadium caretaker, goalie coach and backup goalie all in one massive fellow, a 46-year-old guy named Wayne Shaw. Shaw became the globular embodiment of the entire Sutton Experience, a jolly lark for everyone involved and especially when he ate a pie on the bench in the final minutes of Sutton’s Cup-exiting loss to Arsenal.

And now he’s been eased into resigning his jobs with the club, because – and this is so very British – there were betting shops taking action on whether he would in fact eat a pie on the bench, and he either did or did not tip off his pals that he was going to chow down on television.

He did eat the pie. His pals collected on their bets. The sport’s governing body opened an investigation into market manipulation by gambling – which is hilarious given that no fewer than 10 gambling establishments have advertising deals with English soccer clubs. Shaw was invited to quit to kill the story, and he took the hint.

Hey, dreams die all the time. But it’s still pie-fixing. Let that rattle around your head for a minute. Pie-fixing. Not match-fixing. Not point-shaving. Pie-fixing.

Now how can you not love this year?

Sure, it sucks for Shaw, but it serves as a series of cautionary tales for athletes around the world.

* Gambling is everywhere, and every time you inch toward it, you dance on the third rail.

* If you want to help your friends, give them cash.

* This is a horribly delicious way to lose your gig.

* And finally, fun in the 21st century isn’t ever truly fun because someone in a suit and a snugly-placed stick is going to make sure you pay full retail for that fun.

But it is nice to know that something that has never happened before is now part of our year. Pie-fixing is a thing now, as silly in its way as Irving’s flat-earth narrative was. And as we steer away from normal games as being too run-of-the-mill-fuddy-duddy entertainment, we have replaced them with sideshows.

Or do you forget how many people complained Saturday and Sunday that the dunk contest wasn’t interesting enough? How stupid is that?

Lots. Lots of stupid. But against pie-tin-shaped planets and pies turned into betting coups, how can it possibly compare?

We chase a lot of idiotic narratives in our sporting lives. The great What Will The Patriots Do To Roger Goodell story died like the old dog it was. We still try to flog Warriors-Thunder as a rivalry in search of better TV ratings when all the obvious evidence is that it is no such thing unless you think a couple that broke up nine months ago is still a solid story. We have Bachelor fantasy leagues, for God’s sake.

This would leave most normal folks in despair, thus matching their everyday experiences, but yin meets yang, and every time it looks like we are all barrel-rolling into the sun, we get Irving, and then we get Wayne Shaw.

In short, 2017 is going to be fun of grand surprises for us all. I look forward to the day President Trump tries to fete the Patriots and only gets to Skype with Bob Kraft and the equipment guys who midwifed DeflateGate, and Mark Davis in Las Vegas, just to see if he can get a P.F. Chang’s into the Bellagio.

Why not? This is sport’s year-long tribute to sketch comedy, and evidently everyone is signing on enthusiastically to replace lessons of morality and honor and equality and dignity and sportsmanship with slackened jaws and belly laughs.

So yay sports! Or as it is clearly becoming, A Night At The Improv.

Patriots win one for the ages, but where does it rank?

Patriots win one for the ages, but where does it rank?

The price of watching Roger Goodell being booed back to the Bronze Age is a subtle but real one, and one that people will feel very dearly soon enough.

The last great cathartic Super Bowl is now done, with the New England Patriots winning the brilliant and decisive battle to be sports’ new evil empire. In doing so, it rendered Goodell a permanent and risible punch line in National Football League history, the mall cop who wanted the death penalty for littering, and in the words of the song “got what he wanted but he lost what he had.”

True, $40 million a year can make the dissolution of your public persona a reasonably decent tradeoff, but we lost the argument about who won his windmill tilt with the Patriots. It’s done, and he is now permanently and irrevocably a figure of ridicule.

But that’s not the only debating point America lost Sunday night, and while you wouldn’t think it given how much time we are willing to shouting at each other, quality arguments are not easily replaced.

We have almost surely lost the mindless debate about the best quarterback ever, because there is nothing anyone can bring up that the words “Tom Brady” cannot rebut except calling his own plays, and since that is no longer allowed in football, it is a silly asterisk to apply.

We have almost surely lost the equally silly shouter about the best coach ever. Bill Belichick is defiantly not fun, but he has built, improved and bronzed an organizational model that is slowly swallowing the rest of the sport. That and five trophies makes him the equal if not better of the short list of Paul Brown, George Halas, Vince Lombardi, Bill Walsh and Tom Landry.

Plus, Belichick locked up the most absurd response to a question in coaching history Monday when he said, “As great as today feels . . . we're five weeks behind the other teams for the 2017 season.” Even allowing for Gregg Popovich in-game interviews, the so-grim-he-could-make-a-robot-cry worship-the-process response has now become a cliché. If 2017 prep was so important, he should have skipped yesterday’s game, and he definitely should have chosen not to waste so much time on the trophy stand after the game when training camp drills needed to be scheduled.

Oh, and DeflateGate died. Dead. No zombie possibilities here.

We do have a meatheaded argument ahead of us about which championship in the last year is the best, which can be settled here.

1. Leicester City, because 5,000-1 is 5,000-1, and the whole world understands that. Plus, there was invaluable three-month buildup that engaged non-soccer fans.

2. Chicago Cubs, because 108 years is 108 years.

3. New England Patriots, because . . . well, I don’t have to explain it unless you have no useful memory span. “Down 25 In The Third Quarter” is the new “Down 3-1.”

4. Cleveland Cavaliers, because they slayed the first unbeatable Warrior team by coming from 3-1 down, and even as a silver medalist, it will always be an internet meme, which is what passes for memorable in our decrepit culture.

5. (tie) Villanova basketball and Clemson football in a tie, because they were essentially the same great game.

7. The Pittsburgh Penguins, because the Stanley Cup Final was devoid of drama or high moments, and only 14:53 of overtime. Feh.

But everything else is settled, and this Super Bowl will not be topped for a long time. Our current cycle of absurd championships is almost surely going to end soon, because “Down 3-1” has happened twice in eight months (three times, if you count Warriors over Thunder), and the bar has now been placed well beyond reasonable clearing.

Indeed, the only thing left is for a championship team to spontaneously combust on the award stand. But if they do so and ignite Roger Goodell along the way, that would be an ending America would cheerfully endorse.

But that also isn’t an argument any more, and yes, that includes Gary Bettman.