A REACTION AND ANOTHER SUGGESTION
for all the inveterate
whiners.
It didn't take long for the sniveling talk radio
calls and whining letters to the
editor to start rolling in, lamenting all the local tax dollars it
took -- you know, the ones that, under the
terms
of the deal, aren't actually being spent -- to keep the Penguins in
Pittsburgh, bemoaning all that money being given to
spoiled millionaire playboys
-- surely you don't mean all those good kids and
dedicated family men? did the Pens sign Ben Roethlisberger when I wasn't
looking? -- for their new ice palace, and pretending that building a replacement
for a 46-year-old civic arena that serves the entire region was not overdue and
not necessary and thus some sort of either-or proposition that precludes a
solution to those draconian PAT Transit
cuts.
My favorite responses, however, are the ones that add to those rampant absurdities the empty threats to never again watch hockey or go to a Penguins game or set foot in an arena old or new, as if Sidney Crosby had beaten their children or Mario Lemieux had begun a pointless, pre-emptive war or Osama bin Bettman had threatened to crash a couple of Zambonis into the USX Tower if the team's every unreasonable demand was not met. For those folks, I have a simple reaction and a slightly more complicated, if no less humble, suggestion.
First, the reaction: The Penguins, the NHL, the new arena, and the city's coffers will somehow all survive without you. It'll be hard -- after all, there'll be far fewer people to make fun of -- but we'll pull through. The sellout crowds and eventual Stanley Cup parades will surely not miss the ill-informed minds and ill-tempered faces of a few thousand bandwagon jumpers who would not know their ass crack from a goal crease anyway.
Now, the suggestion: If you're serious -- and I mean really, truly, long-term, not-just-listening-to-myself-talk-and-write serious -- about this boycott, then you'd better be prepared to go all the way through it to the end. Do not come to the new arena to see the Penguins, and do not watch them on television or support them in any way. And then you must do the same for any band or group, any entity or organization, that ever plays or appears or associates itself there. If U2 or Coldplay or Jay-Z or Justin Timberlake or Faith Hill or Kenny Chesney or Celene Dion or Arcade Fire or anyone else comes and plays a concert at the new arena, you can not go, you can not so much as buy a ticket for a friend, and you can never see nor listen to nor even think about any of those artists again. When Disney on Ice or Stars on Ice come to the new arena, you can not go, you can not let anyone take your kids, and you can no more allow yourself or your children to watch the Disney channel or any Disney movies or even the Winter Olympics. When Ringling Brothers or World Wrestling Entertainment bring their freak shows and circus clowns and steroid-crazed animals to stomp around the new arena, you must boycott not only those events but all future exhibitions of high-wire and ring-side insanity. When the NCAA Tournament inevitably returns to Pittsburgh and sets up a whole weekend of hardcourt tournament tension, you can not go, you can not watch, and you can not feel even the slightest bit of Madness in March nor in any other month. You can't watch the Final Four, you can't listen to the Elite Eight, and you can't even take a single, tempting taste of the oh-so-Sweet Sixteen. In fact, you can never watch another Division I college basketball game again. And you probably won't be able to watch professional basketball (the Cavs will surely play some more exhibitions there) or quasi-professional basketball (the Xplosion may still be playing and will likely still be sucking) or even PIAA high-school basketball (at least a few games will find their way there, if only to take some pressure off the Palumbo Center). You won't ever again be able to see or watch on tv or even acknowledge the simple, unfortunate existence of indoor motocross racing or monster truck rallies or Mannheim Steamroller music. They will all, like everyone and everything else that passes through that beautiful new arena, be dead to you.
Oh, and one more thing: Also dead to you now are the Pirates and the Steelers, two teams with new and exclusive venues that benefited from deals sweeter and tax dollars richer than the Penguins and their multi-purpose arena received. With the sorry state of inequity in Major League Baseball, the Pirates, not even with Jason Bay and Freddy Sanchez and Adam LaRoche on the field, will not be much of a loss. But I imagine it will hurt at least a little bit not to root for the gridiron glory of the black and gold every Sunday in the fall. But you'll get used to it. And I'm sure that you'll do it. Because your letters and phone calls suggest that you are men and women of steadfast principles. As the years roll on and that arena rises up, I know that you'll have no problem sticking to every last one of them.
Even the ones you didn't intend -- and clearly did not consider -- when you closed your minds and opened your mouths.
My favorite responses, however, are the ones that add to those rampant absurdities the empty threats to never again watch hockey or go to a Penguins game or set foot in an arena old or new, as if Sidney Crosby had beaten their children or Mario Lemieux had begun a pointless, pre-emptive war or Osama bin Bettman had threatened to crash a couple of Zambonis into the USX Tower if the team's every unreasonable demand was not met. For those folks, I have a simple reaction and a slightly more complicated, if no less humble, suggestion.
First, the reaction: The Penguins, the NHL, the new arena, and the city's coffers will somehow all survive without you. It'll be hard -- after all, there'll be far fewer people to make fun of -- but we'll pull through. The sellout crowds and eventual Stanley Cup parades will surely not miss the ill-informed minds and ill-tempered faces of a few thousand bandwagon jumpers who would not know their ass crack from a goal crease anyway.
Now, the suggestion: If you're serious -- and I mean really, truly, long-term, not-just-listening-to-myself-talk-and-write serious -- about this boycott, then you'd better be prepared to go all the way through it to the end. Do not come to the new arena to see the Penguins, and do not watch them on television or support them in any way. And then you must do the same for any band or group, any entity or organization, that ever plays or appears or associates itself there. If U2 or Coldplay or Jay-Z or Justin Timberlake or Faith Hill or Kenny Chesney or Celene Dion or Arcade Fire or anyone else comes and plays a concert at the new arena, you can not go, you can not so much as buy a ticket for a friend, and you can never see nor listen to nor even think about any of those artists again. When Disney on Ice or Stars on Ice come to the new arena, you can not go, you can not let anyone take your kids, and you can no more allow yourself or your children to watch the Disney channel or any Disney movies or even the Winter Olympics. When Ringling Brothers or World Wrestling Entertainment bring their freak shows and circus clowns and steroid-crazed animals to stomp around the new arena, you must boycott not only those events but all future exhibitions of high-wire and ring-side insanity. When the NCAA Tournament inevitably returns to Pittsburgh and sets up a whole weekend of hardcourt tournament tension, you can not go, you can not watch, and you can not feel even the slightest bit of Madness in March nor in any other month. You can't watch the Final Four, you can't listen to the Elite Eight, and you can't even take a single, tempting taste of the oh-so-Sweet Sixteen. In fact, you can never watch another Division I college basketball game again. And you probably won't be able to watch professional basketball (the Cavs will surely play some more exhibitions there) or quasi-professional basketball (the Xplosion may still be playing and will likely still be sucking) or even PIAA high-school basketball (at least a few games will find their way there, if only to take some pressure off the Palumbo Center). You won't ever again be able to see or watch on tv or even acknowledge the simple, unfortunate existence of indoor motocross racing or monster truck rallies or Mannheim Steamroller music. They will all, like everyone and everything else that passes through that beautiful new arena, be dead to you.
Oh, and one more thing: Also dead to you now are the Pirates and the Steelers, two teams with new and exclusive venues that benefited from deals sweeter and tax dollars richer than the Penguins and their multi-purpose arena received. With the sorry state of inequity in Major League Baseball, the Pirates, not even with Jason Bay and Freddy Sanchez and Adam LaRoche on the field, will not be much of a loss. But I imagine it will hurt at least a little bit not to root for the gridiron glory of the black and gold every Sunday in the fall. But you'll get used to it. And I'm sure that you'll do it. Because your letters and phone calls suggest that you are men and women of steadfast principles. As the years roll on and that arena rises up, I know that you'll have no problem sticking to every last one of them.
Even the ones you didn't intend -- and clearly did not consider -- when you closed your minds and opened your mouths.
Posted: Thu - March 15, 2007 at 10:38 AM
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Published On: Aug 28, 2008 10:23 PM
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Published On: Aug 28, 2008 10:23 PM