Sunday, August 19, 2012

DO HEROES ACT LIKE MATT KEMP?

The Commissioner strides from the elevator.  He heads for his office, the corner one with the windows.  It's 10 am.

As he waves toward a bank of cubicles, he snaps his fingers at Peabody, his Private Secretary. 

"Peab," he says. "We got anything pressing?   I hope not, 'cause I got a 1 o'clock tee time.  Forest Park, out in Queens."

He throws his briefcase in a chair, and slumps behind the desk.  Peabody is there and hands him his coffee, cup and saucer.

He stops, hands in his pockets.  He breathes deeply.  "We got a problem, a real problem."

In mid gulp, The Commish drops his head.   "Please, not today." he says.  "I was looking forward to getting that three wood in my hands."  He looks at  his reflection in the coffee.  "Okay...damn...I'm listening. "

"We gotta suspend Matt Kemp.  No two ways about it.  A month, minimum."

"What?  Matt Kemp?   A month?  No way.  A month?  Are you kidding?"

Shaking his head, he sits back, and stares at Peabody.  "Tell me.  Something crazy happen I didn't hear about?  Matt Kemp?  Is he in jail or something.  A sex thing?  What?"

"Happened at the game last night." Peabody begins to pace.

The Commish waves his hand in the air.  "Talk to me."

"Okay, here goes.  Last night, Dodgers Pirates.  Home plate ump is Angel Campos, summer fill in.  Rookie kind of guy.  Anyway, Dodgers were griping about balls and strikes from the start.  So he warns them in the bottom of the Second.  It was Kemp who was the loudest.  Okay, Ethier's up, so Kemp yells out, 'Let's go, Dre.'  Dre...you know...for Andre..."

"I get it.  Dre," says The Commish.  "He was rooting for his own guy.  So..?"

"So, Campos ejects Kemp.  Mattingly comes running out of the dugout, with Kemp right behind him.  Screaming.  Seems everybody in the place could hear them."

"Okay, so they're arguing with the ump.  Peab, if we suspended ever guy who argued with some umpire."  He sits back, cup on saucer, in the air.  "Guys in a pennant race sometimes get fired up. No need for suspension."

"Cardinal Sin,"  says Peabody.  "Kemp bumped the ump, acting like a wild man. Bumped him  twice."

The Commish stands up and walks to the window.  He looks out past Manhattan, across the Hudson, to parts of Bayonne.  He rubs his forehead.

"Touched him, huh?  Well...Do we have to...suspend him?"

"That's the rules."

"But...Fans like that...gets their blood boiling.  Some action.  Maybe a one game suspension?"

"It was more than just arguing.  Kemp had to be restrained by both Mattingly and Shane Victorino.  Mattingly was also ejected.  Campos is new,  and they all knew it.  They were trying to break him.  They're supposed to be professionals.  How much money do these guys make, anyway?"

Peabody pushes his iPad across the desk.  "Take a look."  The Commish sits and watches Kemp's disgraceful display. He slides it back. 

"But... a month?"  Again he stands and gazes out toward Bayonne.  He sips his coffee, then closes his eyes.

"You heard the words he said, " says Peabody.  "Maybe there's something going on in his personal life, but his language.  Unbelievable.  Did you see the guy in the stands, holding his hands over the little boy's ears.  That's bad.  Real bad."

"Maybe they didn't hear..."

"They all heard it.  If a father out in public screamed like that, a little boy by his side, it's child abuse."

"What?  Come on, it's a baseball game."

"Is this what we're selling?   Commish, we gotta side with the Umpire.  I don't know what happened to Kemp, it was beyond professionalism.  Crazy like.  We want kids to look up to our players.  Kemp is MVP quality.  Our players are supposed to be heroes to our kids."

"But, come on, Peab.  Guys are in a pennant race.  Dodgers'll have a tough time without Kemp.  Besides, the fans come out to see the Players, not the Umpires.  If they're suspended, the owners won't like it..."

"Couple of weeks maybe.  He needs help.  You see how he acted.  Can't be doing anything like that in front of people.  Something's going on with this guy?  Maybe he's trying to get back with Rihanna, and she's telling him to get lost, I don't know?"

"Who?  Ri..ann?  Who?"

"You know this was beyond arguing with the Ump.  It was a disgrace.  That kind of language has no place anywhere near Major League Baseball.  It was shameful.  They don't even abuse referees in Ice Hockey like this."

"But, okay.  I don't want Baseball to turn into episodes of Jerry Springer...probably get better ratings if I did..." 

"Commish, we don't want to be on the front page of the Sport Section like this.  Kemp has a responsibility...WE owe a responsibility to those little kids that are watching."

"You're right," says the Commish.  "Bumps the ump...more than  once."

"More than once..."

"And the screaming..."

"Blasphemous language.  He had no business saying anything like that in public."

"So, how should I handle this?"  He glances at his watch.  "Hey, I gotta get over to Queens."

"How about seven game suspension, and an anger management course.  We can't have this going on.  Nobody we want in Baseball acts like that."

The Commish sits back down at his desk.  He sets down his coffee, breathes deeply, and puts his hands over his eyes. "I'm going to get a call from Magic Johnson. He'll be mad at me. I know it.  I just know it." 
   ........................................
Help comes from:

Washingtonpost.com/blogs/early-lead/post/matt-kemp-dodgers-leave-pittsburgh-fuming
Losangeles.dodgers.mlb.com/news, 
NYdailynews.com/sports/baseball/dad-covers-son-ears

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