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Sports Sports Feature

WINNING TIME

Forgive the analogy, but college basketball before the new year is akin to primary season in the campaign of a presidential candidate. A lot of noise is made, a few headlines are stolen, and a buzz begins. But after the new year, when conference play begins … that’s when the votes, so to speak, really start to count. “We know it’s not a football season,” says coach John Calipari. “We know the out-of-conference play is to prepare us for our league.”

With 14 Conference USA games coming up (Memphis is 1-1 in C-USA after Saturday night’s win in Houston), Calipari’s Tigers have a chance to make a lot of fans forget the struggles in Puerto Rico and that journey through the SEC equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle. The Rebels, Razorbacks, and Vols will be distant memories if Memphis can handle the Billikens, Blue Demons, and Green Wave. Using the Memphis nonconference schedule as a guideline, here are a few keys to the Tigers finding the C-USA promised land and, perhaps, a berth in the big dance.

Roster resolution. One way or another, the university has to make a decision about the suspended Courtney Trask and John Grice. A mess to begin with, the doubts raised by the status of these players is a cancerous distraction. Fans wonder. The media wonder. You have to believe the players wonder. Suit them up or drop them from the roster until next season. Memphis can then go to battle knowing who its troops are.

Steady guard play. Show me a team that plays deep into March without talent and leadership in the backcourt and I’ll show you an aberration. This is an area where seniors Shyrone Chatman and Marcus Moody simply have to step to the fore. They know what battles with Cincinnati are like. They’re familiar with hostile territory like Louisville and Hattiesburg. They can be the stabilizing voice the young Tigers desperately need. If Chatman and Trask (assuming he returns) can minimize turnovers and coordinate intelligent shot selection from their teammates, the Tigers will give themselves a chance to win in more games than not.

Make The Pyramid a real tomb for opponents. This has as much to do with the fans as with the players on the floor. Emotion is a self-feeding force. The Tigers respond to what they hear from a home crowd, just as spectators respond to game action. It’s been a few years since C-USA rivals really feared taking the court in Memphis. The U of M needs to scare teams again. One way to achieve this is …

The big boys need to get nasty. Don’t get me wrong. Let’s leave the fisticuffs to the WWF and Central Hockey League. The Tigers, however, have more than enough size to bang with the best C-USA has to offer. The days of the undersized Omar Sneed leading the Memphis frontline attack are over. Shannon Forman is as tough as any 6′ 5″ forward in the country. Paris London is quicker than most of the men who will guard him. Kelly Wise, Modibo Diarra, Earl Barron … count ’em up. Memphis is a big team. With enough grit, this can be an advantage for the Tigers. It can certainly help them.

Win the battle of the boards. Aside from Moody, this is not a team of sharpshooters. Rebounds will be aplenty. Offensively, the time Memphis can kill by grabbing second chances will be critical against teams with more overall skill. Defensively, it’s Hoops 101: Limit your opponents’ shots and you’ll limit their point total.

Play .500 on the road. Goals should be lofty but realistic. For Memphis to reach the NCAA tournament, road wins are going to be a must. Seven games away from the Bluff City remain. The schedule is such that the Tigers never play three straight road games. So a dose of the home stuff will be there to help quell losing streaks. A key stretch of the season will come in mid-February, when Memphis travels to Charlotte two days after hosting Cincinnati and two days before hosting UAB. A win against the 49ers could mean two out of three over this five-day period, maybe even a sweep. Tournament officials will be watching. If the Tigers are to find success in the postseason — be it the conference tourney, the NIT, or the NCAAs — they’re going to have to win away from home.

Get healthy. This may seem like an obvious factor, but it’s especially important for this Tiger team. And it may entail getting healthy in the classroom, as well as the training room. To excel at the brand of basketball Calipari preaches — frenetic defense, aggressive transition, constant ball movement — requires depth. To compete with the likes of Cincinnati, Charlotte, and Southern Miss, Memphis must go at least nine players deep. You might see these nine each play as much as 15 minutes. An ankle-turn here, a knee-sprain there (or indefinite suspensions) and the engine will slow considerably.

Shine, Kelly, shine. Make no mistake: This is Kelly Wise’s team if he wants it. At full strength, the Tigers have as deep a bench as there is in C-USA. And that will be critical if they are to contend for the conference title. But they have one player who can take over a game at either end of the floor. If Wise slumps, the offense will sag. If he gets in foul trouble, the defense will weaken. If he continues to show the maturity he has thus far and continues to adapt to the double-teams he will surely face, well, the sky’s the limit. As Marcus Camby was to Calipari’s last two teams at UMass, so Kelly Wise is to his first here in Memphis.

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News News Feature

SIMON SEZ’

I was listening to “Fresh Air,” a talk show on National Public Radio with host Terry Gross, and to my surprise, singer/songwriter Paul Simon was being interviewed. It occurred to me that I had never actually heard the guy speak (outside of a couple Saturday Night Live appearances), so I decided to take a listen.

Sounding like a Jewish grandmother sipping tea with a large wool shawl over his shoulders, the legendary musician slurred his way through the conversation. I reflected on how different he sounded singing, when his soft tenor floats around his acoustical guitar strings.

I found the lack of similarity between his speech and his singing voice disturbing. The talking Simon unabashedly shredded the singing Simon’s work. Maybe it was humility, maybe it was the fact that Simon has not been able to come up with much socially important music since the late 1960s. But whatever it was, the talking Simon was bitter.

He said music is more important than the accompanying words, using as an example of one of his biggest hits with former partner Art Garfunkel, “The Sounds of Silence,” in which he sings: “People talking without speaking,/ People hearing without listening,/ People writing songs, that voices never shared./ No one dared,/ Disturb the sound of silence.”

Simon had this to say about the song: “Well, it’s certainly an immature lyric. Something I probably picked up from a college textbook.” Just like that, he debunked all my ideas about the song’s creation. Apparently there were no early mornings with Simon and Garfunkel sipping tea while playing guitar and slowly finding their way to international acclaim. No moments of inspiration, no lighting bolts. It was chilling for me to hear Simon dismiss this important song as a youthful fancy.

Mr. Simon, in all due respect to your work, your stature, and your [apparent] mid-life crisis, when asked what you think of your own work, please do us the courtesy of shutting up. This request is contrary to the very meaning of “The Sound of Silence,” but, I mean, who do you think you are?

I understand that you wrote the song. I understand that you have performed the song thousands of times over the years. I understand that you are most likely sick to death of it. But “The Sound of Silence” is not about you, the songwriter. It’s about all the people in the world and the terrible things they see without comment. It’s about those who suffer injustices without a voice. I wasn’t born until roughly seven years after you wrote that song and yet its words still resonate as much with me today as they did with the rest of the nation when you first released it.

The odd thing about creation, especially in arts such as music or — dare I say it? — the written word, is that those creations which endure are invariably bigger than the people who created them. Van Gogh was a crazy man but we still pay millions for his work. Mozart was a womanizer with a flatulence fetish and yet I would be proud to have his music played at my funeral.

In the same way, Mr. Simon, I would take your “immature” lyrics with me on any spiritual road-trip I could imagine. The wisdom to speak out against the silence, to cry out against the injustice of the world, is better thinking than you might know. Those aren’t just guitar chords with some snappy lyrics. The message means something and it will last longer than any recording.

“The Sounds of Silence” is a good song, maybe even a great song. Whatever you as the artist might now think about that accomplishment is irrelevant. This is a harsh statement but nevertheless true. In the same way that I have no control over the relative success or failure of this piece of writing after it leaves my computer, you can’t change the significance of your work for the better — or for the worse.

The ideas expressed in those pieces that last, those singular crucial moments that resonate to a world-wide audience, eclipse our individual transition and growth. Maybe you have outgrown those “immature” lyrics, Mr. Simon, but the rest of us might just need to hear those words, as a reminder of the things not said and the consequences of not saying them.

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Politics Politics Beat Blog

RENDERING TO CAESAR

GREENVILLE, S.C.– The good folks (for that is how they see themselves) at Bob Jones University are no doubt astounded to find themselves for the second time in a year — nay, for the second time in a brand-new millennium — to be a focus of national, even world attention. Inexorably, it must seem, this monastic tribe is brought out of its preferred backwater by the presence of some or another prominent politician.

In 2000, it was George W. Bush, touching base with the hard core of the Religious Right to win a primary over the insurgent John McCain. Now, in a way, it’s president-elect Bush’s doing again. He went and nominated another paragon of conservative Christianity, John Ashcroft, to be his attorney general, administerer of the laws and beacon of justice for an increasingly diverse nation. And once the politically correct media found out that Ashcroft had been to Bob Jones last year to receive an honorary degree and speak (actually, the word seeped out in Ashcroft’s losing Senate campaign), he, too, was fair game. Why did he do it? What did he say to the faithful? Picky, picky!

That’s how it must have seemed, in any case, as the administration of President Bob Jones III settled in for another siege – this one occasioned not by national remonstrations over the school’s anti-Catholic persuasion nor by the oddities of its social practices but by the hunt for a possibly mythical tape. Unbelievably, given Ashcroft’s prominence as a U.S. Senator and — in May 199, when he made his remarks at BJU — by his potential presidential candidacy, his visit was not publicly noted. Not by the local Greenville, South Carolina, media, not by the national media, and not even by BJU’s own media (since commencement exercises, by their very nature, mark the end of a school year).

There was no particular evidence that Ashcroft – under fire as his confirmation hearings neared for his attitudes and actions concerning blacks, women, and civil liberties – had said or done anything inflammatory. It was more a case, as the general counsel for one prominent Democrat on the Senate Judiciary Committee put it, that “Ashcroft is trying to pretend that he’s beyond reproach, that he had no idea what kind of place Bob Jones University was or what kind far-right belief it stood for. There was the sense that anything he said at Bob Jones would have to indicate his eyes were open concerning its anti-Catholicism and its other bigotries and that, by being there, he approved of them.”

Hence, the Judiciary Democrats were almost as zealous as the media in trying to ferret out some spoor, some documentary evidence of Ashcroft’s deeds and statements at Bob Jones. When it was learned, late last week, that, in fact, a videotape did exist and that the school’s spokesman, Jonathan Pait, had reviewed it (read: Bob Jones III himself had checked it out), Pait made a point of saying (a) that the school would not release the tape to anybody in the media; and (b) it would be released to the Judiciary Committee if Ashcroft requested it to.

This last indulgence was cover for the root fact that Judiciary would have the tape, either by subpoena or by Ashcroft’s recognition that his nomination was doomed if he connived in the holding back of a document presumed vital.

The denial to the media was spite and sweet revenge, nothing else. As Pait confided later on (after Bob Jones had decided to let Larry King, who had been permitted to interview Jones at the time of last year’s flap): “We wanted to punish the liberal national media for their unfairness and their determination to slander Bob Jones University.”

Larry King was allowed to have the goods again, after two or three days of the most intense – and futile – courtship (or siege) by the rest of the national media. And the tape, when finally shown, seemed superficially to be fairly innocuous, not worth the fuss. Ashcroft, then a senator facing either a reelection race or a presidential bid, had been honored by the university along with U.S. Reps. Asa Hutchinson and Lindsey Graham, two of the managers in Bill Clinton’s impeachment trial. The Missouri senator had been, as president Jones noted in his introduction of the tape on the King program, the first senator to call for Clinton’s impeachment.

So it was no great stretch to see that the honor bestowed on these three tribunes of the Congress was, in effect, intended as a rebuke to the reigning Caesar.

Ashcroft, in his brief remarks, played on that theme.

He reminded the listening students and faculty of what he said was a war-cry of the American colonists: “We have no king but Jesus.” He dilated upon the civil authority vis-ˆ-vis the “eternal authority,” and he said that “when you have no king but Caesar, you release Barabbas.” It was clearly an allusion to the recently aborted attempt by congressional Republicans to oust Clinton.

But it was also a rhetorical fallback onto the turf of government-bashers and religious interventionists, and that part might still give Ashcroft fits as Judiciary readies for its hearings with him, beginning on Tuesday. When president Jones had a chance to provide his gloss of the tape immediately after it was shown to the nation on the King show, he made haste to proclaim that Ashcroft’s acceptance of an honorary degree should not be held against him. “In no way does that imply that he endorses the granting institution. . .,” Jones said, by way of providing an absolution of Ashcroft against any presumed guilt by association. Was he surprised at the furor of the last several days? King asked. Jones replied: “Not considering the source. The raucous political left … makes a lot of noise.”

Jones said he thought Ashcroft’s words on the tape would “comfort” rank-and-file Americans and help the senator in his confirmation fight. He conceded, however, that his own support and that of his university might have hurt Ashcroft somewhat. “Sometimes I don’t like myself very well,” he jested. Acknowledging that much of America incorrectly believed that Bob Jones University was racist, he attempted to absolve Ashcroft of the taint, contending that it was unlikely the honoree had known of the school’s then existing ban on interracial dating among students.

Ashbrook was a “a fine godly gentle covictioned man,” Jones insisted -one fully deserving of confirmation.

As for Jones himself and his institution, he had once again – as he did a year ago on the self-same Larry King show – showed that he possessed some degree of flexibility. Not only did he admit that Bob Jones University could be an albatross, he could make unexpected forays onto secular turf, as when he pronounced about an emblem that sits atop South Carolina’s capitol: “The Confederate flag needs to come down; it’s an unnecessary offense to good people.”

It was instructive to remember last year’s appearance, when Jones had chosen the moment of his emergence – and that of his institution’s — in the national spotlight on the Larry King Show to make an unexpected about-face, revoking in prime time the school’s interracial dating ban.

This week Jones quoted a saying by Jesus: “Give to Caesar that which is Caesar’s,” and went on to say that John Ashcroft believed so, too. In a curious way, his very appearance on King’s secular medium and his behavior on his two Warholian nights reinforced the maxim. In the year since his first appearance, change had conspicuously occurred at his school. A visitor to the campus last year noticed that the school’s female students wore long, floor-length skirts, without exception. This year there were several coeds on campus conspicuously ambling about in skirts cut as high as the knee, showing a fair amount of leg.

Earlier, Pait had been asked about that and had said about the long skirts, which had been widely reported as being in obedience to a school mandate, “It was never anything but a style. I saw a picture during the year of Bill Clinton with Chelsea in front of the Taj Mahal. She was wearing a long skirt. She could have been a Bob Jones student!”

There was something odd about this coupling of the Clinton ambience with that of Bob Jones University – but something that was, in its own way, appropriate. For if there was anything that was demonstrated by these two Bob Jones moments, a year apart, it was that even the most isolated and different amongst us could be brought into a semblance of conformity with evolving national custom.

Between now and John Ashcroft’s confrontation with the Senate Judiciary Committee, and perhaps even afterward, many will continue to focus on the presumed rigidity of Bob Jones University and its backers The real story, however, might be the very obverse of all that. The main thing that seems to have happened in both of these highly publicized eyeball-to-eyeball encounters of church and state is that it wasn’t Caesar that ended up blinking.

In both cases it was the state, or the secular-minded, that ended up being rendered to.

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News News Feature

LOCAL BIZ GROWTH COULD HELP HOMEBUILDING RECESSION

Message from Shelby County suburban developers and homebuilders to corporate giants FedEx and International Paper: Hurry up with those expansions.

Both Fortune 500 companies have announced plans to add 1,000 or more employees in Memphis, a majority of them in well-paid positions. FedEx said this week its proposed delivery agreement with the United States Postal Service would mean hiring 500 more pilots and hundreds of mechanics. International Paper last month announced a Memphis expansion that will result in more than 1,000 jobs.

The new jobs can’t come soon enough for suburban developers like Jackie Welch of Welch Realty.

“We’re definitely in a recession,” he said this week. “Every homebuilder from the top of the line to the bottom is feeling it.”

Welch said Neshoba Bank, which he serves as a director, foreclosed on two new homes this week when the builder couldn’t make payments. He blames the problem partly on the falling stock market but mainly on developers putting too many lots on the market and homebuilders building too many homes. In Collierville, Welch said $350,000 homes are going for about $250,000. He said Cordova, where Welch Realty was one of the primary developers, is also overbuilt. Welch’s Devonshire Gardens, a high-end residential development on Poplar in Germantown, has made only about ten sales so far in the 128-lot development.

Don Berge, president of Market Graphics of Memphis, a housing-market research firm, said the Memphis-area housing market is overbuilt but beginning to correct itself.

“Our numbers through last November show a 25-percent drop in housing starts so for a developer I’m sure it feels like a full-blow recession,” Berge said. “The good news is that for the first time we closed about 600 more houses than we started, so the oversupply just has to be worked out.”

The recession in the housing market makes it that much more important that a third recent corporate announcement, the sale of Morgan Keegan to Birmingham, Alabama-based Regions Bank, not result in a loss of jobs. The sale of Morgan Keegan’s competitor, Nashville-based J.C. Bradford Company, to Paine Webber last year wound up decimating Bradford and costing Nashville some 1,300 jobs.

Morgan Keegan co-founder and CEO Allen Morgan Jr., said this week he is confident that won’t be the case with his company.

“These guys want us to run the whole show,” Morgan said. “Nothing changes for us. They hand over their securities business to us, and they use our name. The addition of their 130 brokers gives us over 1,000 brokers.”

The $800-million deal closes in March. Morgan said he is taking all his payment in stock and will be the largest shareholder when the deal is complete.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

A lot of people in the building business are hoping his employees aren’t either.

Categories
Politics Politics Beat Blog

RENDERING TO CAESAR

GREENVILLE, S.C.– The good folks (for that is how they see themselves) at Bob Jones University are no doubt astounded to find themselves for the second time in a year — nay, for the second time in a brand-new millennium — to be a focus of national, even world attention. Inexorably, it must seem, this monastic tribe is brought out of its preferred backwater by the presence of some or another prominent politician.

In 2000, it was George W. Bush, touching base with the hard core of the Religious Right to win a primary over the insurgent John McCain. Now, in a way, it’s president-elect Bush’s doing again. He went and nominated another paragon of conservative Christianity, John Ashcroft, to be his attorney general, administerer of the laws and beacon of justice for an increasingly diverse nation. And once the politically correct media found out that Ashcroft had been to Bob Jones last year to receive an honorary degree and speak (actually, the word seeped out in Ashcroft’s losing Senate campaign), he, too, was fair game. Why did he do it? What did he say to the faithful? Picky, picky!

That’s how it must have seemed, in any case, as the administration of President Bob Jones III settled in for another siege – this one occasioned not by national remonstrations over the school’s anti-Catholic persuasion nor by the oddities of its social practices but by the hunt for a possibly mythical tape. Unbelievably, given Ashcroft’s prominence as a U.S. Senator and — in May 199, when he made his remarks at BJU — by his potential presidential candidacy, his visit was not publicly noted. Not by the local Greenville, South Carolina, media, not by the national media, and not even by BJU’s own media (since commencement exercises, by their very nature, mark the end of a school year).

There was no particular evidence that Ashcroft – under fire as his confirmation hearings neared for his attitudes and actions concerning blacks, women, and civil liberties – had said or done anything inflammatory. It was more a case, as the general counsel for one prominent Democrat on the Senate Judiciary Committee put it, that “Ashcroft is trying to pretend that he’s beyond reproach, that he had no idea what kind of place Bob Jones University was or what kind far-right belief it stood for. There was the sense that anything he said at Bob Jones would have to indicate his eyes were open concerning its anti-Catholicism and its other bigotries and that, by being there, he approved of them.”

Hence, the Judiciary Democrats were almost as zealous as the media in trying to ferret out some spoor, some documentary evidence of Ashcroft’s deeds and statements at Bob Jones. When it was learned, late last week, that, in fact, a videotape did exist and that the school’s spokesman, Jonathan Pait, had reviewed it (read: Bob Jones III himself had checked it out), Pait made a point of saying (a) that the school would not release the tape to anybody in the media; and (b) it would be released to the Judiciary Committee if Ashcroft requested it to.

This last indulgence was cover for the root fact that Judiciary would have the tape, either by subpoena or by Ashcroft’s recognition that his nomination was doomed if he connived in the holding back of a document presumed vital.

The denial to the media was spite and sweet revenge, nothing else. As Pait confided later on (after Bob Jones had decided to let Larry King, who had been permitted to interview Jones at the time of last year’s flap): “We wanted to punish the liberal national media for their unfairness and their determination to slander Bob Jones University.”

Larry King was allowed to have the goods again, after two or three days of the most intense – and futile – courtship (or siege) by the rest of the national media. And the tape, when finally shown, seemed superficially to be fairly innocuous, not worth the fuss. Ashcroft, then a senator facing either a reelection race or a presidential bid, had been honored by the university along with U.S. Reps. Asa Hutchinson and Lindsey Graham, two of the managers in Bill Clinton’s impeachment trial. The Missouri senator had been, as president Jones noted in his introduction of the tape on the King program, the first senator to call for Clinton’s impeachment.

So it was no great stretch to see that the honor bestowed on these three tribunes of the Congress was, in effect, intended as a rebuke to the reigning Caesar.

Ashcroft, in his brief remarks, played on that theme.

He reminded the listening students and faculty of what he said was a war-cry of the American colonists: “We have no king but Jesus.” He dilated upon the civil authority vis-ˆ-vis the “eternal authority,” and he said that “when you have no king but Caesar, you release Barabbas.” It was clearly an allusion to the recently aborted attempt by congressional Republicans to oust Clinton.

But it was also a rhetorical fallback onto the turf of government-bashers and religious interventionists, and that part might still give Ashcroft fits as Judiciary readies for its hearings with him, beginning on Tuesday. When president Jones had a chance to provide his gloss of the tape immediately after it was shown to the nation on the King show, he made haste to proclaim that Ashcroft’s acceptance of an honorary degree should not be held against him. “In no way does that imply that he endorses the granting institution. . .,” Jones said, by way of providing an absolution of Ashcroft against any presumed guilt by association. Was he surprised at the furor of the last several days? King asked. Jones replied: “Not considering the source. The raucous political left … makes a lot of noise.”

Jones said he thought Ashcroft’s words on the tape would “comfort” rank-and-file Americans and help the senator in his confirmation fight. He conceded, however, that his own support and that of his university might have hurt Ashcroft somewhat. “Sometimes I don’t like myself very well,” he jested. Acknowledging that much of America incorrectly believed that Bob Jones University was racist, he attempted to absolve Ashcroft of the taint, contending that it was unlikely the honoree had known of the school’s then existing ban on interracial dating among students.

Ashbrook was a “a fine godly gentle covictioned man,” Jones insisted -one fully deserving of confirmation.

As for Jones himself and his institution, he had once again – as he did a year ago on the self-same Larry King show – showed that he possessed some degree of flexibility. Not only did he admit that Bob Jones University could be an albatross, he could make unexpected forays onto secular turf, as when he pronounced about an emblem that sits atop South Carolina’s capitol: “The Confederate flag needs to come down; it’s an unnecessary offense to good people.”

It was instructive to remember last year’s appearance, when Jones had chosen the moment of his emergence – and that of his institution’s — in the national spotlight on the Larry King Show to make an unexpected about-face, revoking in prime time the school’s interracial dating ban.

This week Jones quoted a saying by Jesus: “Give to Caesar that which is Caesar’s,” and went on to say that John Ashcroft believed so, too. In a curious way, his very appearance on King’s secular medium and his behavior on his two Warholian nights reinforced the maxim. In the year since his first appearance, change had conspicuously occurred at his school. A visitor to the campus last year noticed that the school’s female students wore long, floor-length skirts, without exception. This year there were several coeds on campus conspicuously ambling about in skirts cut as high as the knee, showing a fair amount of leg.

Earlier, Pait had been asked about that and had said about the long skirts, which had been widely reported as being in obedience to a school mandate, “It was never anything but a style. I saw a picture during the year of Bill Clinton with Chelsea in front of the Taj Mahal. She was wearing a long skirt. She could have been a Bob Jones student!”

There was something odd about this coupling of the Clinton ambience with that of Bob Jones University – but something that was, in its own way, appropriate. For if there was anything that was demonstrated by these two Bob Jones moments, a year apart, it was that even the most isolated and different amongst us could be brought into a semblance of conformity with evolving national custom.

Between now and John Ashcroft’s confrontation with the Senate Judiciary Committee, and perhaps even afterward, many will continue to focus on the presumed rigidity of Bob Jones University and its backers The real story, however, might be the very obverse of all that. The main thing that seems to have happened in both of these highly publicized eyeball-to-eyeball encounters of church and state is that it wasn’t Caesar that ended up blinking.

In both cases it was the state, or the secular-minded, that ended up being rendered to.

Categories
Sports Sports Feature

MANIAX TICKET SALES A RELATIVE SUCCESS

Relatively speaking, Memphis Maniax ticket sales are keeping up with the big boys.

At least some of them. The Maniax have sold 6,000 season tickets, while its brethren XFL teams such as the San Francisco Demons and the New York/New Jersey Hitmen have sold 18,000 season tickets, according to the Memphis Business Journal.

But Memphis is hanging in with other, larger, market teams such the Chicago Enforcers (5,000 season tickets), the L.A. Extreme (6,000 season tickets), and the Las Vegas Outlaws (6,000 season tickets). Memphis is out-selling the Birmingham Thunderbolts (2,500 season tickets).

Though ticket sales for the Orlando Rage are not available yet, the XFL claims it is pleased with overall sales, with a combined 43,500 tickets sold toward the league-wide goal of 65,000.

The Maniax, as well as the rest of the XFL teams, will attempt to step up progress on ticket sales through ads on the league’s networks: NBC, UPN, and TNN.

One factor which might hinder sales is that the league-wide training camp is in Las Vegas, far away from Memphis’ Liberty Bowl Stadium. Says Maniax GM Steve Ehrhart, “I wish we had training camp here in town to let the fans get to know the team.” Ehrhart goes on to say, “we’re pleased [with ticket sales], but we’d like to sell between 8,000 and 10,000 season tickets [sold].”

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Politics Politics Beat Blog

WHAT’S NEXT FOR GORE (PART TWO)

In an existential sense (to evoke a term you don’t see much anymore but still applies), Al Gore is up against it. After the public injury of losing an extended, public double-overtime contest for the presidency of the United States of America last month, his more sub-rosa quest for the presidency of Harvard, ended in something of an insult.

Two weeks ago Robert G. Stone Jr., a senior fellow of the Harvard Corporation search committee publicly stated of Gore’s semi-declared candidacy, “He doesn’t have the academic and intellectual standing.”

And the Harvard Crimson rubbed it in by reporting last week that the search committee had “whittled” the list of contenders down, “discarding” some 450 nominees, “including Vice President Al Gore ’69.”

That made it all the more likely that Gore would have to follow through on his concession-speech pledge that he’d be coming home to Tennessee “to mend some fences.

If there ever was a homestead that could stand some mending, fences and all, it is the Tennessee Democratic Party, which hasn’t won a major statewide race in more than a decade now and hasn’t even fielded a serious statewide candidate since 1994 – a year which saw the governorship and both the state’s U.S. Senate seats pass into Republican hands.

Gore, who in November lost home-state Tennessee’s 11 electoral votes (enough to have won him the presidency, with or without Florida) was, ironically, the state party’s last big winner – having romped to a reelection victory in 1990 over a no-name opponent.

But that was then; this is now, a scant two months since Gore finished 80,000 votes behind GOP rival George W. Bush in Tennessee, in the process losing the [5th] Congressional district he once represented and salvaging his home county of Smith only by the narrowest of margins.

The state’s still-popular former two-term Democratic governor, Ned Ray McWherter, stumped relentlessly for Gore during the presidential campaign’s home stretch but kept running into versions of the same chorus. As he told the Associated Press two weeks ago, “They told me, `Ned, we’re glad to see you. You’re always welcome here. You’re our friend and always will be. But we haven’t seen or heard from Al Gore since 1992.’ “

Uncooked Seeds

It is now axiomatic that in his vice-presidential years the once cautiously conservative Gore evolved positions on issues like abortion rights, limited gun control, and rights for gays – to mention only a few – that were way out in advance of most Tennesseans. Add to that his well-earned reputation for personal stiffness and, as McWherter noted, his recent inattentiveness to a home-state constituency that he once, as a congressman and as a Senator, had favored with abundant “town meetings.”

Even the most casual observer of the late presidential campaign, and especially of the five-week Florida runoff, would be entitled to conclude that Gore’s quest for the presidency went far beyond political dedication. Psychic necessity, or at least an urge to self-definition, seemed clearly to influence Gore’s candidacy as much as any ideological matter had.

Just as Gore forbade his eminent father, the former congressman and senator and presidential aspirant, from intervening in his maiden congressional race in 1976, so did the campaigning Gore of 2000 keep Bill Clinton, whom he had served so faithfully as vice president, at an arm’s – nay, a continent’s – length.

Gore and his inner circle evidently convinced themselves that the various Clinton scandals – especially l’affaire Lewinsky of 1998 – were a detriment to his own presidential candidacy. And, indeed, many in the retiring vice president’s circle continue to believe that a Clinton hex was the major factor in creating a tight race and, ultimately, George W. Bush’s highly tarnished – even suspect – victory.

That Gore’s own failures – especially in the three debates with Bush – contributed significantly to the outcome is a fact that, at some level of consciousness, has to motivate this able and driven public figure, who, after all, had his moments in connecting with an audience (the convention address of 2000 being a clear example, his concession speech being another).

It is too pat to conclude that Al Gore the public figure still has a need to prove himself at the polls. But one doesn’t even need a Freudian primer to appreciate the uncooked seeds in a man who led a presidential race by half a million votes and probably will be demonstrated by various unofficial recounts to have “won” the key state of Florida as well.

An Opportunity

There are many good reasons for Gore not to hazard a gubernatorial race in 2002 in Tennessee – not the least of which is the state’s currently intractable fiscal crisis. And he is surely aware of the fate that befell Richard Nixon, another first-try loser for the presidency, in his unsuccessful 1962 race for governor.

Y

et Gore has the kind of analytical mind that lends itself to problem-solving (sometimes on a cosmic scale), and he is prideful enough to want to avenge this year’s loss in his own back yard. Moreover, he knows that other potential Democratic presidential candidates are out there (does the name “Hillary” ring a bell?) and that he may have alienated many in the party by the simple fact of his defeat last year.

How better to begin his redemption than by winning a race in Tennessee in 2002 – especially when there is a chance Gore would be opposed by another formidable personality, Senator Fred Thompson, and that the two of them would create the kind of energizing spectacle that the media looked for – and failed to get – in the aborted Guiliani-Clinton race of 2000?

And, perhaps, whoever is governor of Tennessee after 2002 will have a perfect opportunity to demonstrate economic ingenuity to a nation which may not be so giddily prosperous in 2004 as it was in 2000. (The signs of such a come-uppance are already being trumpeted, ironically enough, by the incoming president and vice-president.)

And what do we make of the fact that Thompson and Gore easily headed the list in last week’s poll by the Mason-Dixon organization of Tennesseans’ preferred choices for governor?

And who is to say that Nixon’s loss in California in 1962 – however abject it seemed at the time – wasn’t a necessary precursor to his ultimate presidential victory in 1968?

All of which is to say that, however remote a prospect it may seem just now, the state – and the nation – may have another Al Gore candidacy to kick around. Sooner than most think.

– JACKSON BAKER

AND IF NOT GOVERNOR. . .

Two more job prospects for Al Gore, both in Nashville.

First, how about editor of The Tennessean? Gore worked there as a reporter in the early Seventies under former editor and old friend John Seigenthaler, who is still an influential Nashvillian although no longer in the daily newspaper business. And he also knows current editor Frank Sutherland, who would surely be persuaded to move aside for his out-of-work colleague.

Gore could preside over editorial meetings, freshen his ties to his home state, and restore some of The Tennessean‘s fading prestige and liberal edge lost under the auspices of Gannett ownership. Then he could quickly move up the ladder to succeed Al Neuharth at USA Today or at Gannett’s Freedom Forum, which will be moving into its new headquarters on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington D.C.

A related possibility is an emeritus position with the First Amendment Center, a Gannett creation at Vanderbilt which sponsors symposiums and such. Gore would be a natural for the Center’s political bent and its lofty rhetoric. He could invite his old friends down to Nashville while they cool their heels until 2004.

Either job would return Gore to his home state and to Nashville, where he moved his campaign headquarters last summer. Neither post is exactly on the order of president of Harvard, but then Gore is not exactly Daniel Moynihan either, having dropped out of law school and divinity school at Vanderbilt.

Nashville has already rehabilitated an unpopular pro football team into a beloved Super Bowl contender. It could do the same for Al Gore.

– JOHN BRANSTON

Categories
News News Feature

NUMBER OF MEMPHIS LATINOS GROWS

There may be more than 53,000 Latinos in the Memphis metropolitan area, with most of them arriving in the last decade to work in construction or warehouses, according to a study by researchers at the University of Memphis.

The estimate by Drs. David Ciscel, Marcela Mendoza, and Barbara Ellen Smith of the Center for Research on Women is roughly double the most recent U.S. Census estimate and would make Latinos the fastest-growing ethnic population in the Memphis area. In 1990, the census counted 8,116 Hispanics in Memphis.

The researchers are studying the employment patterns and economic impact of Latinos in Memphis. A second report due to be completed later this year will look closely at employment practices in the warehouse and construction sectors and the daily lives of Latinos in Memphis.

Hispanics have settled in Hickory Hill, Parkway Village, Binghampton, the Jackson Avenue Corridor, and Fox Meadows. Four bus companies now provide daily or weekly transportation from Memphis to different locations in Mexico.

ÒContrary to a commonly held belief that Latinos are seasonally mobile, these groups already constitute a stable, permanent population in these areas,Ó the authors say. ÒThe majority of recent Latino immigrants arrived in Memphis in the company of family and friends.Ó

Most of the Latinos are Mexicans who come to Memphis to work in semi-skilled jobs where wages vary between $7 to $10 an hour. There are an estimated 27,429 Latino workers in the Memphis economy, the report says.

ÒThey have one unusual characteristic for low-wage workers,Ó says the report. ÒWe estimate that the typical Latino worker saves almost 30 percent of his or her income,Ó sending most of that back to family in Mexico.

In an interview, Ciscel estimated that over half of the Mexicans who live in Memphis do not have proper documentation. The upcoming report will examine the particulars of that, he said.

ÒIt appears that Latinos did not displace local workers,Ó Ciscel said, but there are indications that their willingness to work for low wages with minimal benefits is having an impact on the local economy.

Researchers came up with their population number by looking at public records of Hispanic births, home buyers, and city and county school students. Then they made projections from there.

The Hispanic influence in Memphis can be seen in the restaurants, churches, supermarkets, radio stations and other businesses that cater to Latinos in the Parkway Village and Jackson Avenue areas. Local businesses, banks, and service agencies are increasingly hiring bilingual workers to accommodate the growing Hispanic population.

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News News Feature

AMERICAN BEAUTY

This began as a quest of sorts. Actually, a quest of mythical proportions, because I had visited the Reelfoot Lake area only once, at night as a small child, and had only a memory of a dark, murky place with very strange relatives in a very strange house. I don’t recall there being any color whatsoever, save for gray and black. It’s an eerie memory that has been slightly unsettling most of my life.

I had also heard stories about Reelfoot over the years from my father, who grew up there as a child in the tiny town of Samburg. There were stories about my great-grandfather, who was married to a Cherokee Indian. The legend goes that he was out on the lake, fishing from a boat, when he was struck by lightning and instantly decapitated. My grandparents, during the Depression, operated some kind of little catfish shack on the lake. When people had no money for food, they occasionally came in and ordered hot water, then sat and mixed it with ketchup to make tomato soup – a free meal that my grandparents, though very poor themselves, were happy to provide. There were tall tales about the infamous Lake Club, a rough-and-tumble roadhouse where barroom brawls were the nightly entertainment. It seems that I was related to the folks who owned that as well.

Until this past fall, I had never been back to Reelfoot Lake, just a two-hour drive north of Memphis, never had any contact with the cousins who still live there. To be perfectly honest, I believe something in me was scared to go there. I had only the memory and a mental image of a very mysterious place.

When I got there I found just that – and much, much more.

My good friend and I arrive on an unseasonably chilly Saturday night, and check into our tiny cabin at the Cypress Point Resort on the lake in Tiptonville, Tennessee. It has no place to eat, so we head across the street to the restaurant at the Blue Bank Resort. (There are plenty of “resorts” at Reelfoot, but don’t get any ideas about lounging around while white-jacketed men bring you drinks; this is fishin’ and huntin’ territory and accommodations, for the most part, are pretty simple).

What we get is a fairly nondescript meal of fried frog legs and fried quail. The only standout is the green-bean casserole that comes in a big bowl as a family-style side dish. It’s a mixture of fresh, not-cooked-to-a-limpy-death pole beans, chopped in small pieces and mixed with smoked bacon and cheeses, and it’s delicious.

Our waitress is very friendly, answering all of my weird questions about my family – including one cousin I actually knew years ago and am looking for, and have been told by everyone I’ve talked with that he is less than sane these days. By the end of the meal she is sitting at our table running down a list of which joints might be open tonight. Unfortunately, the Lake Club closed many years ago, but its reputation lives on; everyone I ask about it describes it as “real rough.” We want to investigate what’s there now, but are tired, and instead take a few moonlit photos from the pier/boat launch that extends from the parking lot of our motel into the water. The lake looks dank, dark, somewhat swampy and dangerous, with the strong cold wind whipping at the black water, creating fairly torrid whitecaps that are illuminated by the moon. My quest is quickly bordering on validating my vague memory.

The next morning, however, the sky is a classic, deep October blue. The water near the shore is the rich green color of Cerignola olives, which fades into cobalt-blue in the distance. The clouds seem to have purple shadows, and the needlelike leaves on some of the cypress trees have just started to throw down with fall colors. It is savagely beautiful, and I am surprised at the contrast from my childhood impression, and from the night before.

At 8:30 a.m., I find my way to the coffee machine in the resort’s clubhouse, and meet Jeremy, who will be taking my photographer friend and me on a guided boat tour of the lake later in the afternoon. Decked out in a thick camouflage jumpsuit, he is watching wrestling on a small wall-mounted television and I join him. Three fishermen drinking Budweisers come in to shoot a game of pool before they take off for the day’s catch. I ask Jeremy about the cousin I’m looking for, and get a similar response from everyone else I’ve asked: “He’s crazier than a run-overed dog.” He then adds, “Man, I don’t know about you, but you’re from the weirdest damn family that ever lived on this lake.”

Just as the wrestling match is at full-tilt violence, Jeremy points to the window, looking out toward the cypress grove that shades the boat launch and very matter-of-factly says, “Look ‘ere.” When I glance up, I see a bald eagle sailing from the sky into the top of one of the trees. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen one out of captivity, and I am fairly awe-struck. It’s one of the reasons I’m here, because Reelfoot is a well-known home to both migrating eagles and resident eagles, birds that build nests weighing up to 4,000 pounds and who mate while falling rapidly from very high altitudes. In fact, the months of December and January are peak eagle-watching times at Reelfoot. When hundreds of shiny little martins flutter in like a hailstorm and line themselves along the wires hanging over the parking lot, I have even more hope for the day.

With some time to kill before our afternoon lake tour, we head down the road to check out Samburg, which has a few motels, restaurants, some old houses, and plenty of manufactured housing. There’s not enough charm to hold us here for long, so we head up another road, and find ourselves lost in Kentucky, ending up at the dead end of a gravel road in a field that is bordered by a tiny finger of the lake. The water is milky green with algae, but it looks like a beautiful carpet dotted with lily pads that surround one lone cypress tree that has already turned a fiery orange. We could stay here for hours, but decide we’d better find our way back to the resort for the lake tour. We are a little apprehensive about not being equipped for the cold and the wind, but once back we hesitantly ask Jeremy if he really feels like taking us out. He’s all for it and we set out.

Reelfoot is indeed a dangerous lake. Because it is basically a flooded forest caused by the great earthquake of 1811-1812 – when the land cracked open and the Mississippi River dumped its water over some 15,000 acres – there are huge stumps in the lake. If you don’t know the water, it’s easy to slam the bottom of your boat into them repeatedly. Part of this navigational treachery, too, is that Reelfoot is so shallow, averaging just five to seven feet deep and nowhere more than 20. Because Jeremy has been giving lake tours since he was “little bitty,” he knows the water, knows where most of the large stumps are. But the lake continually changes, as trees that were once above the water snap off and leave new obstacles below, and Jeremy says he has respect for that. “Once you lose respect for the lake and take it for granted,” he says, “you’re in big trouble.”

The water is so rough today that we have to launch at a point several miles north of the motel, where it’s not quite as choppy. And for the next two hours, we are in a world I never knew existed. Once out in the lake, we stop for awhile in the middle of what seems to be acres of lily pads that rise from the water like leafy chartreuse satellite dishes. Some of them are four feet high – taller than I am sitting in the boat, and they seem to own the water from which they grow. Puffs of clouds are still floating through the October sky and another bald eagle sails overhead until out of sight, the sun shining all the way on his stark white head.

It’s difficult to leave, but from here, we inch our way through a cluster of immense cypress trees, where the only sounds are that of the water flapping against the boat and thousands of birds singing in the tops of the trees. It’s the kind of moment to which only the prose of John James Audubon could do justice. In his journal, he describes the earthquake that created Reelfoot Lake. In fact, I think I know how my naturalist/artist childhood hero must have felt during his travels in this area in the early-nineteenth century, when he lived not far away in Henderson, Kentucky.

As we cruise closer to the bank of an island that’s home to several duck blinds, dozens of white egrets and blue herons emerge from their hiding places in the trees, showing off their imposing wingspans as they careen against the backdrop of their natural habitat and fly elsewhere to places not invaded by the sound of a boat motor. There are no other humans in sight. The scene is so raw, so beautifully prehistoric in feeling, it’s as if we are special guests invited to witness the very dawn of creation.

I don’t know exactly what I came looking for at Reelfoot Lake. I knew I wanted to see the eagles, and I was just a little nervous about finding a parcel of my family heritage that has been shrouded in mystery for most of my 41 years. I never found the reportedly whacked-out cousin, but after the lake tour we did locate his brother, whom I’d never met – a man in his 70s who is sweet but nonetheless has the Reelfoot wild card in his demeanor. He and his wife opened their home to us with warmth, love, venison stew, and lots of family I would never have known existed. He told me some stories about my late relatives, showed me his paintings, and hugged me when we left.

I may have even more questions now about Reelfoot Lake and my lineage there than I had before. Unfortunately, my father is no longer here to answer them. But the natural beauty I found at this little spot on the earth makes me think that I may just meet up with him in some other world someday and have a long, long talk. Nothing like this place could ever have happened by accident or the hand of man.

[Note: This article was first published in Memphis Magazine.]

Categories
Politics Politics Beat Blog

WHAT’S NEXT FOR GORE? (Part One)

It is way premature to be reckoning on it, but there is some circumstantial evidence indicating that outgoing Vice President Al Gore, who has lost not one but two presidential bids in the last month (of the United States and of Harvard University, his Alma Mater), could be thinking of running for yet another executive position – that of governor of Tennessee.

Various Gore intimates, Democratic functionaries, and commentators have talked up the prospect (the Washington Post‘s David Broder made it the subject of some out-loud musing on NBC’s Meet the Press week before last).

The chief indication that something may be afoot is that one of Gore’s main men is letting himself be talked up for chairman of the Tennessee Democratic Party. This would be Johnny Hayes, ex- of Gallatin, who has served Gore’s electoral ambitions for years, most recently as a top presidential-campaign fundraiser.

Hayes, a stocky, good-natured former insurance man, is a T.C.B. type who was with Gore in his first congressional campaign in 1976 and has been with him ever since, taking time out to serve as TVA board member before going full-time with the Gore presidential campaign in early 1999.

“I don’t know if Al himself is urging Johnny, but I don’t have any doubt that some of his people are,” opines Bill Owen of Knoxville, a member of the Democrats’ state executive committee and a national committeeman as well.

Though he makes an exception for the well-liked Hayes, who has always kept fairly close liaison with Democrats in Tennessee, Owens is one of several state party people who were seriously underwhelmed by Gore’s national campaign entourage.

Another is executive committee member David Upton of Memphis, who with Owens attempted to pass a committee resolution last year forcing the Tennessee Democratic Victory 2000 committee (a.k.a. the “Coordinated Campaign Committee”) to clear its state expenditures (and confer on strategy) with the state party.

“They ran a terrible campaign in Tennessee,” Upton says of the Gore campaign surrogates. “They let the presidential candidate down, and they let down all the local candidates and organizations they were supposed to be ‘coordinating’ tactics with.”

While as complimentary toward Hayes as Owens, Upton isn’t prepared to concede that Hayes is the inevitable chairman, pointing out that other strong contenders are still out there – notably Lebanon trial lawyer Bill Farmer, who is declared, and Memphis attorney John Farris, who is still thinking about it. Two other possible candidates are Middle Tennessee State professor Jeff Clark, who just lost a U.S. Senate race, and legislative employee David Bone.

Owens won’t buy into that. “I don’t want to call him [Hayes] the ‘gorilla,’ but he’s the 800-pounder in the race. If he wants it, he probably gets it.”

And if Al Gore wants him to want it, Hayes will dutifully develop the desire. He is a loyalist like Knoxville businessman Doug Horne, the virtual political unknown whom Gore backed for the chairmanship in 1998 and who will step down, yielding to a successor at a state committee meeting later this month.

Horne intends to run for governor – unless, as he has put it, a “serious contender” announces by the end of May. Speculation as to who that might be has so far focused on two congressmen, Bob Clement of Nashville and John Tanner of Union City.

After December 12th, the night of Gore’s concession speech, speculation began to move in another direction.

(More to come.)