Field of Dreams came out a few months after I turned five.
For some of you that makes me sound like an infant, and in turn might make you feel a tad on the more "weathered" side... and for that I apologize. I watched a viral video on Facebook this week where some snot-nosed kids didn't know who Coolio and Ace of Base were, and one person even said that Mariah Carey sounded like she was copying Ariana Grande's style. It was the first time I felt truly "old," and it's a horrifying feeling. So again, I apologize if this anecdote does the same to anyone else in this forum.
Recently I learned that I've been misquoting Field of Dreams. The mystical voice that calls out to Kevin Costner, ultimately leading him to ruin his own crops in favor of erecting a baseball diamond in the middle of Iowa nothingness, says "If you build it, he will come."
For nearly my entire life I've been saying "They will come," with 'they' being the ghost-players, of course. It wasn't until a recent session of binge watching Costner sports movies (Is there anyone better at sports movies? He even made me root for the Cleveland freaking Browns in Draft Day) that I realized my error, and that the 'he' the voice was referring to was actually Coster's late father.
You can listen to the sound clip here: http://www.filmsite.org/wavfiles/fieldofd.wav
Though I had seen the movie several times as a kid, I repeatedly missed the point that the process was a way for Costner's character, Ray Kinsella, to reconnect with his past, and not to lure a bunch of legendary dead baseball players to have an epic pick-up game. That part was just a benefit of the hard work and blind faith he put into the process of having a venue for such a reunion to take place.
I don't think my misinterpretation is unique. In fact, I think it's repeated incorrect references to this iconic movie line that got me all turned around in the first place. Often you hear references like this in regard to updating/rebuilding sports stadiums that have a hard time selling out- I specifically remember this reference being used in conjunction with debates over the public funding of UoP stadium for the Cardinals in Glendale. Now, the "they" they're referring to in those circumstances are the fans who weren't showing up- not the ones, like me, who sat on scorching bleacher seats on Sunday afternoons in August and September, watching Dennis Green swear Josh McCown was a better option than Kurt Warner, and that Leonard Davis was a tackle and not a guard. For the Bidwills- "If you build it, they will come" wasn't a referendum on people like me- but instead, a retort toward the people who would bring up whether the Cardinals fan base was deserving of some of the perks other fan bases enjoyed when people wouldn't even come out and grab dirt-cheap tickets on a Sunday to watch the Cardinals and hometown hero Jake Plummer at Sun Devil Stadium. I was doing my part, but it wasn't enough. It was going to take a much larger commitment from voters, fans, ownership, management, coaches, business owners and players to justify the construction of a new stadium. It was going to take a community.
This brings me to Herb's letter, and his call to action that eerily reminded me of the warnings about Tiny Tim's empty chair that Dickens' Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come gives Ebenezer Scrooge.
"My family and I would like to thank Dr. (Michael) Crow, Ray Anderson, and the ASU community for allowing us to be Sun Devils. We enjoyed our time here and we are blessed to have made some special friends.
We stand together proud that our players have met the most critical standard we asked of them -- to be respectful young men, qualified to earn their way in the world. Along the way, our young men also managed to have some terrific accomplishments on the court, as well. These young men, and our assistant coaches, who helped me find and teach them, are like family to me.
Given all the conversation about recruiting, I would ask that you don't let your disappointment in me take away from or be a reflection on the talent of the young men that are currently on my team.
Given the progress we made with this relatively new group of players, they proved they are talented enough to win in the Pac-12. They also personify the personal character of the individual student-athlete that reflects so positively on the amazing trajectory Dr. Crow has this great institution traveling.
I wish ASU Basketball and your next head coach nothing but success going forward. It takes a community to win in sports today. Thank you to those who helped me build a community during my time here. It is my hope that you will continue your efforts to build the depth and breadth of that community support and help your next coach reach the expectations we all have for this program.
Thank you and Go Devils!
There are quite a few connotations that flood student, alumni, fan and booster's minds when you bring up Herb Sendek's name. Some believe, for lack of a better metaphor, than he made decent cuisine without access to higher-end groceries. Some believe he didn't know how to shop for those groceries. Some believe he wasn't great at getting patrons excited about the meal he was about to serve. Most agree, at the very least, that his restaurant was spotless.
This letter is more than a farewell, it's a revelation that there was a gap between Sendek's expectations, and the reality he was faced with. Most agree that any time there's an unbridged gap between expectations and reality, that gap is ultimately bridged with things like resentment, regret, disappointment, and disdain. Gaps between expectation and reality can also be closed with innovation and effort, but with ASU on the precipice of hiring a new candidate to head up its program, it's fair to say that Sendek was unable to bridge that gap with respect to the expectations ASU administration and supporters had of him, and it's also fair to say he believes the community of supporters of ASU basketball were unable to do the same for him-Otherwise, Sendek wouldn't have left instructions for the "community" moving forward. He would have said "thanks for doing all you could" and moved on.
There are plenty of very passionate people that reject the notion that anything need have been done by fans, alumni and administration that couldn't have been done by Herb himself. He made more money in one year than most of us make in twenty, his practice facilities are stellar, the campus and city are great, etc. In that case, the "If you build it, they will come" mindset would obviously put the onus on Herb to have won more and recruited better to earn fans and prompt overdue stadium upgrades.
There are also many that believe that not enough support was given, and that the head coach is only a small cog in a support system. As Noemi Howard, mother of recent decommit Markus Howard stated to me when professing her admiration for Sendek and assuring me that the Sun Devils were still an option for her son- "It takes much more than a coach." While there are plenty who might agree with this sentiment on its own, but outright disagree with this sentiment in the context of Sendek's nine years in Tempe- it's still important to acknowledge that this is a prevalent mindset. In the minds of those that do not believe Sendek received enough peripheral support to achieve the expectation set for him by the same groups that ultimately called for his job, the "if you build it, they will come" mindset puts much more personal responsibility on the 'you' portion of that statement, and 'they' ultimately means wins.
These two points of view have at times been diametrically opposed, and have led to some contentious communications about the health, direction, and potential of the program. Herb's letter got me thinking about the misinterpretation I've had of Field of Dreams' most memorable quote, "If you build it, HE will come."
If those who are able collectively and faithfully attend games, donate, and evangelize for the ASU men's basketball program in a way that mirrors at least a semblance of the sacrifice Coster's character had to make in order to construct a baseball field, then maybe the wins will consistently come, but obviously the right coaching staff has has to be in place. There's a good chance that the next guy could be the best guy for the job, but he might not ultimately be the guy- the one who is able to meet the championship expectations that Ray Anderson has put forward. Whoever that coach is, whether it's Capel, the guy after Capel, or the guy two coaches from now, we might never find out what this program is capable of unless we collectively build a field worthy of 'him' to show up on. The good news is that with donors willing to absorb a 2.4 million dollar buyout in order to make Sendek's firing budget neutral, as well as the excitement generated by the 942 Crew, that community construction Sendek referenced in his farewell letter may already be taking place.
This post was edited on 4/5 4:58 PM by Ralph Amsden
For some of you that makes me sound like an infant, and in turn might make you feel a tad on the more "weathered" side... and for that I apologize. I watched a viral video on Facebook this week where some snot-nosed kids didn't know who Coolio and Ace of Base were, and one person even said that Mariah Carey sounded like she was copying Ariana Grande's style. It was the first time I felt truly "old," and it's a horrifying feeling. So again, I apologize if this anecdote does the same to anyone else in this forum.
Recently I learned that I've been misquoting Field of Dreams. The mystical voice that calls out to Kevin Costner, ultimately leading him to ruin his own crops in favor of erecting a baseball diamond in the middle of Iowa nothingness, says "If you build it, he will come."
For nearly my entire life I've been saying "They will come," with 'they' being the ghost-players, of course. It wasn't until a recent session of binge watching Costner sports movies (Is there anyone better at sports movies? He even made me root for the Cleveland freaking Browns in Draft Day) that I realized my error, and that the 'he' the voice was referring to was actually Coster's late father.
You can listen to the sound clip here: http://www.filmsite.org/wavfiles/fieldofd.wav
Though I had seen the movie several times as a kid, I repeatedly missed the point that the process was a way for Costner's character, Ray Kinsella, to reconnect with his past, and not to lure a bunch of legendary dead baseball players to have an epic pick-up game. That part was just a benefit of the hard work and blind faith he put into the process of having a venue for such a reunion to take place.
I don't think my misinterpretation is unique. In fact, I think it's repeated incorrect references to this iconic movie line that got me all turned around in the first place. Often you hear references like this in regard to updating/rebuilding sports stadiums that have a hard time selling out- I specifically remember this reference being used in conjunction with debates over the public funding of UoP stadium for the Cardinals in Glendale. Now, the "they" they're referring to in those circumstances are the fans who weren't showing up- not the ones, like me, who sat on scorching bleacher seats on Sunday afternoons in August and September, watching Dennis Green swear Josh McCown was a better option than Kurt Warner, and that Leonard Davis was a tackle and not a guard. For the Bidwills- "If you build it, they will come" wasn't a referendum on people like me- but instead, a retort toward the people who would bring up whether the Cardinals fan base was deserving of some of the perks other fan bases enjoyed when people wouldn't even come out and grab dirt-cheap tickets on a Sunday to watch the Cardinals and hometown hero Jake Plummer at Sun Devil Stadium. I was doing my part, but it wasn't enough. It was going to take a much larger commitment from voters, fans, ownership, management, coaches, business owners and players to justify the construction of a new stadium. It was going to take a community.
This brings me to Herb's letter, and his call to action that eerily reminded me of the warnings about Tiny Tim's empty chair that Dickens' Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come gives Ebenezer Scrooge.
"My family and I would like to thank Dr. (Michael) Crow, Ray Anderson, and the ASU community for allowing us to be Sun Devils. We enjoyed our time here and we are blessed to have made some special friends.
We stand together proud that our players have met the most critical standard we asked of them -- to be respectful young men, qualified to earn their way in the world. Along the way, our young men also managed to have some terrific accomplishments on the court, as well. These young men, and our assistant coaches, who helped me find and teach them, are like family to me.
Given all the conversation about recruiting, I would ask that you don't let your disappointment in me take away from or be a reflection on the talent of the young men that are currently on my team.
Given the progress we made with this relatively new group of players, they proved they are talented enough to win in the Pac-12. They also personify the personal character of the individual student-athlete that reflects so positively on the amazing trajectory Dr. Crow has this great institution traveling.
I wish ASU Basketball and your next head coach nothing but success going forward. It takes a community to win in sports today. Thank you to those who helped me build a community during my time here. It is my hope that you will continue your efforts to build the depth and breadth of that community support and help your next coach reach the expectations we all have for this program.
Thank you and Go Devils!
There are quite a few connotations that flood student, alumni, fan and booster's minds when you bring up Herb Sendek's name. Some believe, for lack of a better metaphor, than he made decent cuisine without access to higher-end groceries. Some believe he didn't know how to shop for those groceries. Some believe he wasn't great at getting patrons excited about the meal he was about to serve. Most agree, at the very least, that his restaurant was spotless.
This letter is more than a farewell, it's a revelation that there was a gap between Sendek's expectations, and the reality he was faced with. Most agree that any time there's an unbridged gap between expectations and reality, that gap is ultimately bridged with things like resentment, regret, disappointment, and disdain. Gaps between expectation and reality can also be closed with innovation and effort, but with ASU on the precipice of hiring a new candidate to head up its program, it's fair to say that Sendek was unable to bridge that gap with respect to the expectations ASU administration and supporters had of him, and it's also fair to say he believes the community of supporters of ASU basketball were unable to do the same for him-Otherwise, Sendek wouldn't have left instructions for the "community" moving forward. He would have said "thanks for doing all you could" and moved on.
There are plenty of very passionate people that reject the notion that anything need have been done by fans, alumni and administration that couldn't have been done by Herb himself. He made more money in one year than most of us make in twenty, his practice facilities are stellar, the campus and city are great, etc. In that case, the "If you build it, they will come" mindset would obviously put the onus on Herb to have won more and recruited better to earn fans and prompt overdue stadium upgrades.
There are also many that believe that not enough support was given, and that the head coach is only a small cog in a support system. As Noemi Howard, mother of recent decommit Markus Howard stated to me when professing her admiration for Sendek and assuring me that the Sun Devils were still an option for her son- "It takes much more than a coach." While there are plenty who might agree with this sentiment on its own, but outright disagree with this sentiment in the context of Sendek's nine years in Tempe- it's still important to acknowledge that this is a prevalent mindset. In the minds of those that do not believe Sendek received enough peripheral support to achieve the expectation set for him by the same groups that ultimately called for his job, the "if you build it, they will come" mindset puts much more personal responsibility on the 'you' portion of that statement, and 'they' ultimately means wins.
These two points of view have at times been diametrically opposed, and have led to some contentious communications about the health, direction, and potential of the program. Herb's letter got me thinking about the misinterpretation I've had of Field of Dreams' most memorable quote, "If you build it, HE will come."
If those who are able collectively and faithfully attend games, donate, and evangelize for the ASU men's basketball program in a way that mirrors at least a semblance of the sacrifice Coster's character had to make in order to construct a baseball field, then maybe the wins will consistently come, but obviously the right coaching staff has has to be in place. There's a good chance that the next guy could be the best guy for the job, but he might not ultimately be the guy- the one who is able to meet the championship expectations that Ray Anderson has put forward. Whoever that coach is, whether it's Capel, the guy after Capel, or the guy two coaches from now, we might never find out what this program is capable of unless we collectively build a field worthy of 'him' to show up on. The good news is that with donors willing to absorb a 2.4 million dollar buyout in order to make Sendek's firing budget neutral, as well as the excitement generated by the 942 Crew, that community construction Sendek referenced in his farewell letter may already be taking place.
This post was edited on 4/5 4:58 PM by Ralph Amsden
