With the Beale
Street Music Festival taking shape this week at Tom Lee Park, I found myself
considering the marriage between music and sports. From “One Shining Moment” at
the Final Four to Hank Williams Jr. on Monday Night Football, it’s hard to love
one without some affection (if only latent) for the other. So what if we took
some of the biggest hits by some of this weekend’s biggest music stars, and
dedicated them to a member (or members) of the sports world? It might sound
something like this.
“I
Feel Good” by James Brown, dedicated to DeAngelo Williams. And you’d feel good,
too, if you’d just been picked by the Carolina Panthers with the 27th selection
in the NFL draft. Here’s a case where good things happen to good people. Having
become only the fourth player in college football history to rush for 6,000
yards, all the while leading the University of Memphis to three straight bowl
appearances, Williams stuck around to graduate when the cash registers started
ringing in his ears more than a year ago. And you just might have to find the
Godfather of Soul to match the fancy footwork Williams will display on Sunday
afternoons this fall.
“The
Thrill is Gone” by B.B. King, dedicated — as a question — to Memphis Grizzlies
fans. Despite the home team playing in a swanky new arena and marching toward a
third straight postseason appearance, Memphis ranked near the bottom of the NBA
in attendance. With ticket prices commensurate with those in other pro
basketball cities, you start wondering how ready for prime time Bluff City hoop
fans really are. As for those clamoring for the acquisition of a “superstar” to
boost interest, consider that Allen Iverson, Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, and
Tracy McGrady are sitting home watching the likes of Pau Gasol and Shane Battier
in this year’s playoffs.
“Breathless” by Jerry Lee Lewis, dedicated to Albert Pujols. Okay, okay, so the
Killer was singing about carnal desire. Let’s tame our metaphorical
interpretation, just long enough to allow a few of the mighty Pujols’ immaculate
swings to accompany the soundtrack. In measuring the first five years of Pujols’
career (over which he averaged .332, with 40 home runs, 124 RBIs, and 126 runs),
there are only two baseball immortals who can qualify for comparison: Joe
DiMaggio (.343, 34, 138, 123) and Ted Williams (.353, 33,, 128, 126). When
Pujols hit a major-league record 14 home runs in April, Cardinal Nation had yet
another chapter in the ever-growing volume of heroics by the team’s modern-day
Musial.
“Summer of ’69” by Bryan Adams, dedicated to the 1969 New York Mets. Ahh, the
Miracle Mets. No artificially inflated muscle on this team for the ages. This
may be the last team in baseball history that belongs in the “fable” category.
This was pre-Watergate, remember, when media was three network channels and your
daily newspaper (two if you were lucky enough to live in a big city). Tommie
Agee, Ron Swoboda, and the immortal Donn Clendenon. The Amazin’s beat a mighty
Baltimore Orioles club (109 wins) that featured Hall of Famers Jim Palmer,
Brooks Robinson, and Frank Robinson. And the Mets won with the same strength
that has carried almost every World Series champ: pitching. A 22-year-old Nolan
Ryan couldn’t crack the starting rotation for this team. Gotta love a club led
by a guy remembered as Tom Terrific.
“I
Want a New Drug” by Huey Lewis & the News, dedicated to Barry Bonds. I know, I
know. This was too easy. But with Mr. Lewis wearing his loyalty to the San
Francisco Giants on his sleeve (his band’s from Frisco), the match is too
perfect to pass up. What kind of drug might the aspiring Home Run King turn to,
what with the ‘roid watchdogs on his tail? I’d suggest some old-fashioned
Tylenol, for all the headaches he must endure, what with the ceaseless booing,
insulting signage, and constant questioning of his credentials as an heir to
Ruth and Aaron. But something tells me Bonds’ head is the last body part he’ll
be concerned about 10 years from now.
