Author Archives: Rabbi

     The current disappearance of professional basketball due to the ongoing
labor dispute leaves me indifferent. It has been many years since I watched an
entire game, even more since I actually attended one in person. There are
simply better and more enjoyable ways to utilize my time, not to mention that,
realistically, “professional” basketball has unfortunately not been played in
the metropolitan area for some time. An avid Knick fan in my youth, reared on
the glories of the Knick championship teams now almost four decades gone, much of professional basketball has become unwatchable – a parade of dunking, jumping and individual efforts more suitable to TV highlights than to success in a team sport.
That is why I read with great delight Harvey Araton’s recently-released “When the Garden was Eden,” a chronicle of those glorious Knicks teams of Reed and Frazier, Bradley and DeBusschere, Barnett and Monroe, Phil Jackson and Red Holzman. It is an account not only of their victories and struggles, but especially of their disparate backgrounds and personalities that meshed to form what might be the greatest team in NBA history, even if it was never composed of the greatest players in NBA history or even of that era. There is heart,
self-sacrifice, unselfishness and determination, a microcosm (as Araton notes
in a running subtext) of what America could have been like with racial harmony
and mutual respect.

   The team revolved around Willis Reed, and the narrative of Game 5 (1970
Finals, Reed injured, team trailing, but somehow miraculously defeat the Laker
behemoths of Chamberlain, Baylor and West) makes as riveting and inspiring reading today as it was listening to that game. And Game 7 – Reed emerging through the runway and limping onto the court shortly before the game began, having taken shots of painkillers to ease the throbbing in his torn hip muscle – is the stuff of legends and clichés. DeBusschere turned, saw the Lakers mesmerized – frozen – by the sight of the injured Captain, and said to himself “We got ‘em.” They did, in a rout.

    I missed that game – May 8, 1970, a Friday night. Not yet Bar Mitzva, I declined the invitation of friends in holy Monsey to come and listen to the radios they had left on from before Shabbat. Shabbat was Shabbat, a decision I did not regret then or now. Having seen the game in subsequent years on film, it remains enthralling entertainment and a slice of life. Walt Frazier, who had
one of the greatest Game 7’s ever – 36 points, 19 assists – resented that Reed
received the MVP award, having played barely five games in the series. But
watching the game again with Araton – for his first time ever, Frazier said –
he retracted and apologized for his earlier sentiments. It was Reed’s presence
alone that intimidated the Lakers, and he deserved the MVP status.

   The backgrounds of the major players were as diverse as America. Reed
from the rural deep South, Frazier from urban Atlanta, DeBusschere from working class Detroit, and Bradley from upper middle class Republican bankers in Missouri – but all bonding through an understanding and appreciation of their diversity. There was some underlying racial tension on the team – specifically the resentments of the talented Cazzie Russell who was the sixth man behind the slow-footed, cerebral Bill Bradley (my personal favorite player). Russell chafed in his role – even called Reed an “Uncle Tom” once for rebuking him, to which Reed essentially glared him into an apology and greater deference – but most basketball pundits saw Bradley’s genius, outside the numbers of the box score, in running the floor, passing, setting up teammates, disrupting the opposition, and creating offensive harmony. It was a joy to behold – the team game – the movement without the ball, the shot going to the open man, the helping out on defense. It will surprise no one who watched those teams that Bradley was inducted into the NBA Hall of Fame, despite a career average of 12 points a game, with his season high topping out at 16 points a game. Indeed, seven other players from those teams are also Hall of Famers, and yet they succeeded in keeping their egos in check. Even the magical performer Earl “the Pearl” Monroe, a 1971 addition, learned to sublimate his skills for the good of the team –for example,  insisting when he arrived on the team that he not take Dick Barnett’s starting position.
It was a different era. Most players did not earn great amounts of money
from professional sports, held off-season jobs and actually needed the playoff
money. The morning after the 1970 championship – the morning after,
Saturday morning – Reed, Holzman and Marv Albert showed up at previously
scheduled autograph signings at a chain of toy stores in Queens and Long
Island. Thousands of children were present. Only Bradley had signed the big contract after college, his career delayed by studies in Oxford and then service in the Air Force – another relic of a bygone era. Reed, the NBA MVP Willis Reed, lived, for goodness sake, in Rego Park, of all places, a far cry from Derek Jeter’s penthouse in Trump Tower, and not far from where my own great aunt lived. It was a middle class existence, to which the average fan could easily relate.

      Frazier, and Reed, both extolled the benefits of growing up in the
South, despite the rampant discrimination. In Reed’s small Louisiana town, blacks and whites commingled freely and socially. But Frazier articulated his conclusions that the discrimination brought people together and gave them greater incentive to persevere and succeed. “Unlike the North, in a way, we were raised by a village. If you were doing something wrong, everybody in the neighborhood had carte blanche to make it their business. We were always taught to have a tenacious work ethic, to get an education. Because no matter what names they called you, once you had that, no one could take that away.”

   In the 1960s, that changed, and government assumed the paternalistic role
that has devastated the black community. But self-reliance elicited not only
hard work but also lifelong success, and these Knicks were all over-achievers even after their playing careers ended (or perhaps just, simply, natural achievers). Reed became a coach and basketball executive, Frazier became a colorful broadcaster and real estate investor and developer (his real passion),
DeBusschere a team president and later businessman (he died young), Barnett – who was thought to be a slow-witted dullard – earned a doctorate, Bradley
became a US Senator and Presidential candidate, Jerry Lucas markets his incredible memory techniques, Phil Jackson coached more NBA champions than any other person, etc.

   All were held together by the taciturn, reticent, unpretentious Jewish
coach Red Holzman, whose retirement number hanging from the Garden rafters bears the number of his regular season victories, 613 (Araton: “the same as the number of commandments in the Torah”). Holzman was a simple man of simple tastes, a reluctant coach who dwelled in a modest home in Cedarhurst with his wife and daughter – the street, off West Broadway, connoted today by the sign “Red Holzman Way,” and something he would have eschewed during his lifetime. He drilled in his team minimal rules – see the ball, hit the open man – and would regularly solicit the players’ advice in time outs and at half-time, democratic to a fault and eschewing all personal honor and credit. Winning was everything, and praise from others was worth less than a shot of Scotch. There was one trainer and one scout, and almost no other staff.

   The book is filled with vignettes that recall a different, and vanished,
time. Frazier was never once assessed a technical foul during his entire
career. (He said he had better uses for his money.) The great Oscar Robertson
never once dunked during his career, considering it an “inelegant” way to
score. The book notes the long-running anguish of the great Jerry West, a
perennial loser in the Finals until finally prevailing in 1971. There were so few
teams that only the very best players competed, leading to hard competition but
also mutual respect. Frazier, in fact, hated playing against his college teammates, fearing the friendship would be a distraction, and cultivated no friends on other teams throughout his playing days. And the “Clyde” image was just that – the reputation as a man-about-town was contrived, a business decision concocted by his agent. His college teammates were shocked that the introvert they had played with even dabbled with such a persona – and he was a stickler for healthy eating, sleep, practice and success, rather than club hopping. I hadn’t remembered that Bradley led the team in scoring in the 1973  championship finals, again against the Lakers.

     Such a book blurs memory and reality. I had forgotten that the shootings
at Kent State occurred on the morning of “Game Five.”  I could have sworn I attended the game in November 1972 when the Knicks scored the last 19 points to defeat the Kareem Abdul-Jabbar Bucks by one point on basket by Earl Monroe. Now, I am not so sure, as I recalled Bradley taking the last shot. Then again, some of the players misdated some of their games and series by two years. The first championship punctuated “championship season” in New York, with the Jets and Mets having won in football and baseball earlier that year. Those were the days. In retrospect, the Knicks proved a respite from the strife of the times – the civil rights marches, the Vietnam War protests (in both cases, some players participated, others not), the massacre of Israeli athletes at Munich and finally Watergate, which unfolded during the second championship season. The nation’s sour mood was leavened by the triumphs on the hardwood floor of Madison Square Garden.

   It is something more than nostalgia at play. It is a vivid reminder of how
commonality of purpose and the harmony of dissimilar elements can engender the success of the group that then shapes their lives forever. It is a great book –
marred only at the very end by Araton’s manufactured attempt to wrap Barack
Obama in the mantle of the Old Knicks – and rewarding for all those who were
young and innocent during those halcyon, almost mythical, days.

It didn’t take long for the vultures who circle the fields of American politics to pounce on Herman Cain, with undocumented allegations that are drawn right from the playbook of dirty tricks. Clearly, if Cain was not perceived as a threat and a viable candidate, he would not merit such attention. And while attention for the leak has focused on the Rick Perry campaign (the old “staffer” leak), no one knows the provenance of the initial information – perhaps even from another campaign or even another party.
Two questions present: what if the allegations are false? And what if the allegations are true?
To date, the anonymous accusations boil down to what, at worse, is boorishness, and at best, a lack of chivalry. Even for the sexual harassment industry – and it is an industry – this is quite tame. Every decent person can recognize that unwanted physical contact between a male and a female is, and should be, a crime, and that persistent verbal harassment – pathetic attempts at humor or seduction – should be actionable. One can even subscribe to the notion that a “hostile work environment” can be created that justifies the involvement of the justice system.
But a one-time joke, or a spurned offer of romance, neither of which affects job performance, promotions, salaries or standing? It is easy to see why those are distasteful and objectionable, but much harder to see how the courts and lawyers should be involved. Attorneys are quite familiar with two notions – nuisance settlements and deep pockets – that are both inducements to litigation. For most cases and clients, especially when the allegations are mild and certainly when they are false but relatively innocuous, it is fiscally prudent to just settle for a small amount of money than to litigate – and even prevail – while paying a much greater amount in legal fees. It is just more cost effective to settle. (Back in the day, I represented a number of people who were innocent but pleaded guilty to non-criminal offenses and paid a fine, rather than pay a substantial amount to a lawyer – to wit: me – to defend them to the great moral victory. It simply made no sense to miss endless days of work and pay legal fees when the stakes were not that great.) A similar dynamic occurs in negligence cases, where insurance companies routinely settle “nuisance” claims when the cost of litigation is excessive. It is sad that the system works like that, but it does.
And businesses, like insurance companies, usually have deep pockets, which is the reason that they are sued for idle comments that bear a randy message and not your average construction worker whose random comments are far more lascivious but who lacks money to pay.
Fabricated sexual harassment claims in the business world are as common as fabricated sexual molestation charges are in divorce cases. They both have the advantage that the accusation is tantamount to a conviction, and the accused bears a presumption of guilt, not innocence. They are powerful weapons to wield, and the only inhibition is decency, a quality that is not as widely dispersed across society as we would like. An aggrieved spouse, like a disgruntled employee, can fire this arrow, and once it crosses the barest threshold of credibility – i.e., the accuser is not a raving lunatic – the accusations must be dealt with, defended, depositions taken, trials held or, most likely, settlements reached.
These Cain cases, settled as they were for incredibly small sums, fit this pattern well, with one additional wrinkle. The settlements are always accompanied by non-disclosure clauses, binding each side to silence. That is the point of the money – to make the case go away. It is therefore fascinating that allegedly, one of the alleged victims, has now offered to tell her story publicly, which she should, once she returns the money, with interest, to the National Restaurant Association that paid her.
All of the above assumes that the charges and claims are frivolous. What if they are not – what if each allegation is true and Cain is guilty of…we know not what but it certainly made some women “uncomfortable”?
I am not sure it means much of anything, although the sordid events tell their own side story. Clearly, a double standard exists in politics, wherein Republicans and conservatives are judged harshly for this type of misconduct, and Democrats and liberals are given a pass. Two words suffice, Bill Clinton, but some elaboration is necessary. Today’s news reported that the first three days of the Cain business generated some 50 stories from the major networks compared to just seven stories, total, for candidate Clinton’s three crude accounts in 1992 in their first three days. And Clinton’s accusers had names and faces. Senator Bob Packwood (R) was driven from the Senate because of his uncontrollable kissing disease; Senator Ted Kennedy (D) was re-elected to the Senate numerous times, and became a presidential candidate, after leaving a woman in his car to die, or something worse than that.
Of course, I don’t really mind the double standard, except when the accusers carve out an exemption for themselves. Then, their pursuit of moral excellence is expedient and hypocritical. And it is good to know that the accusations presuppose some moral norms, whose violation triggers some reaction. But it is still phony. Anyone can be sued for anything, and the story remains, even if dismissed, certainly if settled. There is no harm in suing, because in America, the loser is rarely assessed the costs of the other side, as is common in the rest of the world.
Assuming there was no physical contact, no groping, no intimidation, and no serial harassment – as the facts that have emerged to date reveal – then do these allegations (making some women “uncomfortable”) disqualify Herman Cain from the presidency ? It is hard to see why. This whole narrative challenges many of the feminist shibboleths, especially the equality of men and women. “Equal” is a poor term; men and women are different, not equal. One would laugh, out loud, at a man who claimed to be offended (and sued) because someone made him “uncomfortable.” In a normal world, whoever doesn’t like a joke, is allowed to say “that is not funny” and walk away, and whoever is crudely asked to a hotel room by a man not her husband is allowed to say, “Not if you were the last man on earth.” Those putdowns should end the discussion, and if there are no further consequences, should never give rise to litigation. That, of course, is in a normal world.
Our word is not normal, is exceedingly litigious, and many Americans have used lawsuits to enrich themselves or shield themselves from the consequences of their own actions. For example, an employee about to be fired can inoculate himself (or herself) from termination by making the appropriate charges. At worst, you can buy yourself a nice severance package and save your pride. It happens.
That is not to say that one’s private life should be off-limits when running for a public position. One’s private life often sheds light on one’s values and true personality. Those who discounted, for example, Bill Clinton’s cheatin’-lyin’ ways behind closed doors should not be surprised that he outright lied to PM Netanyahu (first term) when he promised Netanyahu that if he came to Wye and an agreement was reached, he could take Jonathan Pollard back with him to Israel. Clinton simply lied (this, first-hand knowledge, from a participant at Wye). A lying private life eventually maneuvers its way into one’s public dealings as well. And Clinton remains quite popular.
It is sad, but you could see this coming a mile away. It is one reason why many people – sensible people – eschew politics altogether. Because so much money and power is at stake, it often attracts people with character issues, and attacks from others with even greater character flaws. Cain has revealed himself to be, at best, a prudent businessman in settling and disposing these claims, and at worst, a lout, if not just a typical man. The first is his main qualification for the presidency, and the second is not at all a disqualification. The anti-Cain forces have come alive; but if he is to fail in his quest, let it be for his policies and experience, not for these piffles.

    Herman Cain has rocketed to the top of the polls for the Republican nomination for president, but unlike some predecessors, he has retained his position for several weeks. Most others wilted upon closer scrutiny. Cain persists, and here’s why:

    He is the ultimate outsider. While others – including the President – are running against Washington, most are part of official Washington, either working there (or aspiring to work there) for their entire public lives or being perceived as part of the Washington establishment for decades. Those without any true Washington connection – a Rick Perry, for example – present as so raw as to be ill-prepared for the Presidency.

    Washington as the political center of the nation is the most unpopular entity in the country, and Cain can rail against it credibly, as well as present an alternative locus of power. Cain has the aura of success, a golden touch in every venue he has worked. The American President is the CEO – Chief Executive Officer – of the country; a real CEO, and a successful one, would be a welcome relief from the amateurish ideologues who are now bankrupting the nation. Consider: it is highly unlikely that Cain spent his first three years as CEO of Godfather Pizza blaming its predicament on his predecessor. Like any CEO, he is judged by his performance, including responding to the challenges posed by what his predecessor did. Somehow, that is lost on the incumbent president.

    Obama, too, ran as an outsider, and indeed he was – outside any metric by which success is measured and outside the boundaries within which acomplishment is assessed. His victory was the perfect storm, and it is difficult to see how Obama can use the “inexperienced” label against Cain. Cain wears his outsider, “not-a-politician” badge quite naturally, although Rick Santorum cheekily asserted that Cain “is not a politician” because he has lost every election in which he has run. (Of course, Santorum, whose social issues campaign would be a popular banner in every election but this one, also lost his very last election, calling into question his own electability.)

     Herman Cain also has the life’s experiences that Obama lacks, even now as president. And he defuses at least partly one of Obama’s main strengths – the monolithic black vote that enabled Obama to carry most states along the coasts where black populations are concentrated. If Cain can peel away even a third of the black vote – along with some Jews who could not bring themselves to vote against a black man, but now can bask in the Cain cover – states like California, New York and New Jersey could become competitive. In the best case scenario, the black electorate could conceivably be re-aligned and its unthinking support for the liberal policies that have engendered a half-century of dependence and social collapse summarily ended.

   The truth is that Cain’s life story is far more typical of the average American black than is Obama’s – and far more inspiring. Obama grew up in relative privilege – a son of parents who each had doctorates, and with a Bohemian mother who sent him to live with white grandparents who were solidly middle class. He has no Southern roots at all (one reason why his affection for usin’ a Southern black accent when addressin’ black audiences is so grating.  I always vonder how he vould talk to a Jewish audience. I guess I’ll have to vait and vatch vhen it happens.) Cain grew up in relative poverty, with a mother who was a domestic and a father who rose to become a chauffeur – but, most importantly, both instilled in him the traditional American values of self-help, personal responsibility, the rewards of hard work and a loathing of the welfare state. Cain owes his success to his achievements despite the fact he was black; Obama’s victory came because he was black.

    Cain’s success story is a much more genuine one than Obama’s, who rode the perfect storm to victory never having achieved anything of note besides the publication of two autobiographies. I sense that the Obama people fear Cain even more than they do Mitt Romney, whom they will present – unfairly – as a symbol of the old ways, the “policies that got us into this mess,” etc. (Obama, interestingly, never fails to rail against the Bush bank bailouts of 2008, and always fails to mention that he voted for them as Senator and expanded them as President.) With Cain, the race card Obama acolytes play when the going gets tough recedes back into the deck.

    Herman Cain is also much more articulate than is Obama, and it is also a welcome relief to see people in politics who are not tethered to a teleprompter. (One priceless photo making the Internet rounds shows Obama not long ago speaking from a teleprompter, moving his head side to side as always from behind a podium, while addressing a … kindergarten class.) Cain, Romney and several other candidates just speak from the heart, and so Cain has a unique capacity to connect with people that exceeds Obama’s.

     Of course, unscripted also means prone to errors, and Cain has made his share of them. I watched and cringed when Cain stumbled on the “right of return” question Chris Wallace threw at him. Clearly, Cain didn’t know what it was – but he admitted as much the next day. But the CEO need not know every detail of how to make the widget – he just has to know who makes the widget, what a widget should look like and how it should work, and how it is to be sold to the public. He need not know, or pretend to know, the minutiae of every issue facing the government. What he needs to know is the broad direction in which he wants to take the country, and how every decision should advance the goals he articulates. He has to be able to set the tone for his underlings and the sprawling bureaucracy that will execute his policies, and know how to rein in officials who will try to thwart those same policies. Reagan was a master at this, and one senses Cain can be the same type of leader – one with good instincts, and honesty in implementation – and admitting failure and taking responsibility for failure. From that perspective, Obama is much more typical
of his generation, in which the blame for missteps and fiascos always lies
elsewhere. With Obama, not only does the buck not stop with him, it doesn’t
even enter his office.

       To be sure, none of this makes Cain the perfect candidate – there is no such creature – nor does it make him the likely nominee. He is such an outsider that it is difficult to see how he can defy the odds and win the nomination. Then again, it was impossible to see Obama, in 2007, as a plausible candidate for president, much less the eventual winner. He has to avoid playing the idiotic gotcha games of the modern media (“who is the Foreign Minister of Uzbekistan, and who preceded him?”). But a Cain-Romney ticket (even Romney-Cain) would be appealing, cut deeply into Obama’s base and, at this early stage, facilitate a Republican victory. I still maintain (as noted here two years ago) that Obama will ceremoniously dump (Crazy) Joe Biden in favor of Hillary Clinton, which will transform the dynamic of the race in unpredictable ways. It will add a “newness” factor that will rev up the Dem base.

      So will a Cain nomination do for Republicans, independents and disaffected Democrats, in either spot on the ticket. He also has the considerable advantage of being competent, compelling, a straight talker, and a non-politician – and someone who lives, and is proud of, the American dream. Anything can happen, in an era in which candidates are marketed like soap. Cain is a master marketer, and he has an engaging product to sell.