Should Fans Blame Owners or Players If MLB Season Is Cancelled

By Tony Mangia

While MLB owners and the player’s union present their proposals for the 2020 season to commence after the COVID-19 virus pandemic flattens out, a complicated financial and health concern battle is taking place between the two sides. But to fans looking in, the real question is whether the owners or the players will be held responsible for sealing or breaking a deal which ushers in a new season of baseball.

And most fans don’t care if they throw spitballs at each other, the only curve they care about isn’t a pandemic, it’s a pitch.

Photo illustration by Tony Mangia

It’s been over two  months since MLB locked its gates. The normal pent-up anticipation of a new baseball season compounded with the onset of the pandemic lockdown has left home-confined fans with a huge sports void many have never experienced in their lives. 

There were some intriguing major league storylines which were on the hot stove before the COVID-19 hit. They included would Gerrit Cole’s presence help get the Yankees over their World Series slump? Could Mike Trout win his fourth MVP — and two in a row — or are the Mets rotation and the Dodgers lineup as good as advertised. 

So without a 2020 season, fans will never get to see how many times an Astros player gets hit by a pitch either.  Come to think about it, if the season does resume with no fans in the stands, the villainous Astros might be the only team happy to welcome the stadium void because it means not getting booed incessantly at each away game. 

If the season does get a reboot, a host of intriguing developments might include how that newly instituted universal DH rule will affect the National League game strategy or how many times players get thrown out of a game for spitting. And how that forehead thermometer in the dugout becoming more important than the radar gun behind home plate?

It’ll also be interesting to see if any high-profile celebrity fans get use of the private viewing suites for a price. My money is on Jay-Z, Jerry Seinfeld or Charlie Sheen.  After all, Sheen did buy a whole seating section of an Angels game just so he could catch a foul ball.

All moot points if the season is cancelled.

Like most American’s lives, almost every aspect of MLB has been impacted by COVID-19. Besides the complete shutdown of the season, the Hall of Fame has since announced its annual induction weekend will not be held as planned this July. Instead, the Hall of Fame hopes to hold a tandem induction weekend in 2021. The draft, meanwhile, has been shortened to five rounds, with draftees receiving significantly less money over the next two years.

So, with plenty of time to contemplate — or stew — in solitude, who will the fans side with or blame if the 2020 MLB season is cancelled?

It’s logical to think that the typical sports fan can sort of relate to the players — more than owners — because most fans are usually salaried workers too. But those same fans might draw a line at that bromance with the professional athletes whom they often perceive as pampered prima donnas making in a single game what the average working stiff earns in a year … playing a game at that!

But their perception of fat cat team owners with stacks of old money isn't exactly relatable either.

So on those points, let's call it a push between blaming the owners and players.

Owners-1 Players-1.

Last week, the owners and MLB commissioner Rob Manfred sent a proposal to MLBPA and the two sides began negotiations to salvage the season and, in some cases, some franchises. 

The league’s proposal includes an early July target date for Opening Day. Other plans include the afore mentioned universal DH, an expanded postseason field, precautionary health measures and a revenue-sharing plan that would lead to players taking pro-rated pay reductions. Besides the minuscule health concerns, that pay cut  — for the lighter workload —  is already a major sticking point with the player’s union. 

And, if only getting paid for games they actually play chafes the players' rosin bags, well, that  is one negotiating issue where the average sports fan will most likely side with the owners and not the players. 

Owners-2 Players-1.

Several players have already spoken out since MLB's proposal was approved by the owners and submitted to the MLBPA —  and it includes a couple of big names. But, if it comes down to these highly-paid players refusing to take a pay cut causing the season to be cancelled, this might be the last straw for the fans when they take sides.

Can you say boycott?

Adam Jones, who played 14 seasons in the big leagues and is currently with the Orix Buffaloes in Japan, called on the game's star players to speak out against the proposal. Some have, including the Tampa Bay Rays Cy Young-winning pitcher Blake Snell.

“Bro, I’m risking my life. … If I’m going to play, I should be getting the money I signed to be getting paid.,” Snell opined. “I should not be getting half of what I’m getting paid because the season’s cut in half, on top of a 33 percent cut of the half that’s already there — so I’m really getting, like, 25 percent. On top of that, it’s getting taxed. So imagine how much I’m actually making to play, you know what I’m saying?

“I’m just saying, it doesn’t make sense for me to lose all of that money and then go play. And then be on lockdown, not around my family, not around the people I love …”

A lot of people trashed Snell for sounding motivated by money and not the game, but one one of the league’s biggest and most recognizable stars backed him.

“He ain’t lying, he’s speaking the truth bro. I ain’t mad at him.” said Phillies star, Bryce Harper, about Snell’s statement. “Somebody’s gotta say it, at least he manned up and said it. Good for him.”

Snell, as well as other players on his side, might see this as righteous, but many fans see him as greedy, self-serving and ungrateful to have a job. A lot of fans remember the baseball strike of 1981 and see this 2020 showdown as another hard-headed owners vs. over-paid players battle which leaves the fans out.

Think about all of the people out of work these days, struggling to pay their rents and mortgages and actually protesting to get back to their jobs. This might be the majority of the MLB fan base. It’s definitely not the main stream media talking heads and do-nothing politicians who preach to the masses about staying home while all that time they are still collecting a paycheck.

Score another run for the league. Owners-3 Players-1.

Granted, that with fans watching games on TV in the safety of their own homes and owners doing it from sanitized suites and mansions, it is the players who are taking all of the real health risks. But how much of a threat could it be for players to play in empty stadiums, with limited and distanced staff and personnel, special transportation, sanitized housing and the best preventive measures and professionals to keep them safe? You come in more contact with people scouring the aisles for toilet paper at Walmart.

And why wouldn’t games played in front of empty stands work? Fan-less baseball games seem to be okay in South Korea.

The KBO started regular season games in early May and could be a good template for how MLB can handle playing in front of empty stadiums. The world’s third largest professional baseball league has instituted new COVID-19 rules which include: players having their temperatures checked twice a day; everyone not in a baseball uniform, including umpires and athletic trainers, wearing face masks and gloves; if a player shows symptoms, he'll be immediately quarantined and they'll close the stadium where he played his most recent game; if he tests positive for the virus, contact tracing will figure out others who need to be quarantined for two weeks. 

And while nothing will ever replace the aromas and energy of a packed crowd, maybe teams could fill the stadium with piped in crowd noise and music to distract the players from boredom?

Not exactly peanuts and crackerjacks, but it’s glimmer of hope that someday you will be able to go back.

MLB’s proposed early July starting date would be enough time to see a leveling out of the pandemic curve and allow for at least an 82-game schedule. The owners have also proposed a 50/50 split of revenues with the players and that’s where it gets fiscally complicated. 

Without paying customers, concessions, souvenir or parking receipts, most of the income will be from broadcast rights (and there should be abnormally large audiences). MLB owners have already announced that they will lose $640K per game without fans totaling $4 billion in final losses by the end of the season. A lot of specifics of the bottom line have to be plainly laid out regarding this untested and hastily-conceived revenue-sharing system between the union and owners and all of the accounting angles that comes with it. Essentially, the players will still be get a paycheck — with a pro-rated paycut —while the owners take all of the financial risks with a shortened and ticketless season. It remains to be seen if the odd coupling of owners and players can share millions in profits without driving each other crazy. 

Outside of baseball tradition and continuity, there are many reasons to cheer for the reinstatement of baseball. First of which is that it’s a return to business as usual — or at least as much a return to normalcy in our lives we could hope for right now.

It sounds like the owners have laid out some reasonable compromises where they'll be looking at a probable financial loss, while the players risk a minimal health concern and at least get a paycheck. Money is really where it all seems to boil down to so I'd give the owners a slight edge over the greedy players for taking a hit on their bottom line. 

Owners win, 4-1. So you can hold the players responsible if the 2020 season is cancelled.

And if beaning Astros and a Yankees’ World Series revenge weren’t incentive enough for baseball to get back on track, Bartolo Colon has declared that he wants to slip a uniform over his portly, 47-year-old body one last time. 

So owners and players, if not for any other reason to come an agreement, just do it for Big Sexy.. 

Imagining the "new normal" when MLB opens the gates after the pandemic lockdown

By Tony Mangia

In just a few short months the whole world has been tossed upside down by the coronavirus. An invisible scourge which has disrupted our lives in everything from work, travel to sports and leisure time. In the United States we are experiencing what seem like cataclysmic changes to our lives and not only adjustments to our lifestyles, but to our freedoms as well.

We know business closures and confinement are just temporary sacrifices everyone has to make and whether through ingenuity, humor or just plain stoicism, most of us have weathered the hard times with flying colors. 

But exactly how short-term will these precautions be? Nobody seems to know.

Just like post-9/11, our way of life changed dramatically coming out of the ashes, but slightly over the long run when you look back. Airport security had become stricter and bothersome, but a necessary task. Thanks to the shoe bomber, even removing our shoes in line has become routine (Thank you Velcro lacing) and, just like airports, stadium security at public events will see some major changes after Covid-19. 

We’ve been through cultural and personal changes due to recent hardships before and have a history of overcoming adversity through adaption and innovation which someway became the norm.

WW2 brought about rationing, blackouts and other inconvenient precautionary measures, but also begot great advances in medical and technological innovations. 

The terrorist attacks at the World Trade center was the catalyst for many security procedures and similar changes in our way of life.

On a relatively smaller danger scale, even the Tylenol scare of the 80s tamper-proof bottles and the elimination of most capsule-type over- the- counter medicines — something we are grateful and complacent about now.

We coped and we overcame.

But what will the pandemic bring once we are allowed to attend sporting events after we get the okay to gather en masse?

What new patterns of behavior will we have to endure to enjoy the stadium experience again? 

Since Major League Baseball seems about the most logical professional sport which might be reinstated this summer, we’ll start there — and with my hometown Yankees and Mets. 

This is all speculation on a lighter note and a prediction that there will be an opening day with fans this season — albeit with the new precautionary and social distancing guidelines.

Let’s imagine the anticipation of the first pitch as newly set-loose fans file out of crowded subway cars and make their way to Citi Field or Yankee Stadium — both which will have instituted unfamiliar and stricter rules to adhere — after maybe months of isolation. Never mind the logic, but will fans have to line up on little marked boxes six feet apart  ... after they stepped off those mobbed trains. I imagine that the event staff will all be wearing face masks — probably in home team colors — and all ticket punching will be electronic so there is no physical contact. Cash might become obsolete in stadium settings. 

As you pass through the turnstile an event staffer will stick a hand-held thermometer to your forehead — checking each person’s body temperature — before allowing you to pass. A cough will never be looked at the same way as before.  God forbid you clear your throat before spouting off how the Astros cheated the Yankees out of a World Series or the Mets have once again been duped out of real ownership and are whisked off to a tent with a big red cross on its side where you will  be further questioned by people in haz-mat suits inside about your physical history.  

The surreal apocalyptic environment will continue once inside inside the arena or stadium.  There will probably be those six-foot spacing boxes at every concession stand and in the souvenir shops where over-priced Purell and official licensed team face gaiters will be big sellers. No more communal condiment tables to pump your ketchup and mustard anymore. Can't have more hand contact spots or any mingling areas than you need. And in the men’s room, every other urinal will sealed so there is no close contact or chance of spraying your neighbor. Oh yeah, thefts of toilet paper will become rampant.

Every other seat or more will be closed off, so there will be plenty of elbow room in the stands. The empty seats will be filled with cutouts of Jerry Seinfeld at Citi Field and Chazz Palminteri at Yankee Stadium. Sorry Spike, your face will relegated to Knicks game — whether you are boycotting them or not.  And in The Bleachers, like those metal pigeon repellers, the aluminum planks will be proportionately spiked to keep fans at acceptable distances. It's not like barbed wire ever kept the Creatures from doing anything they wanted anyhow.

So now with the fan attendance cut down more than half, the roar of a crowd will become a low murmur — sort of like every Tampa Bay Rays home game at The Trop.

Fan behavior will also be monitored. High-fives after a score or good play will banned. So will fist and chest bumps. Fan celebrations will be restricted to rapid blinking at each other.  There will be staff on hand — with six-foot rulers — to discipline drunk social-distance offenders and fans reviving The Wave, making sure they don’t make contact with anyone in the seats around them. And the time-honored ritual of fans passing down a hot dog or a beer from a vendor over to that poor soul seated in no-man's land will also be a big no-no.  

Baseball stadiums will be netted around the entire field to prevent fans from throwing an opponent's home run ball back onto the field. And, sadly for Mets fans, Mr. and Mrs. Met broke up during the quarantine period together. She got tired of listening to him excitedly talk about the possibility of J-Lo becoming a team owner and his joke about Miss A-Rod pole dancing to “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” thus giving the 7th inning stretch a whole new meaning.

There will still be fun. Mascots will fire rubber gloves — with official licensed MLB team logos — from t-shirt cannons over the nets and there will be Lysol Spray Giveaway Night. Although it's too bad the Kiss Cam will become the I’ll Just Look Endearingly At You From Six-Feet Away Cam. 

But god forbid some wiry teenager does manage to get onto the field. That will entail a complete shutdown of the game because MLB has to protect those players.

When this whole lockdown confinement is over and things get relatively back to normal, many of us will have profoundly changed forever — probably a little more introspective and lot more cautious. The idle time gave us more time to think about family, relationships, finances, politics and health. I see a kinder more grateful fan who won’t let little things bother them as much ... except maybe how the cheating Astros robbed the Yankees of a World Series.

And then we can all wait for the first NFL touchdown celebration where players act out pandemic social-distancing.

Remembering that first motorcycle ride of a NYC spring

By Tony Mangia

After almost 40 years of living in New York City, I permanently — and stubbornly — moved out of Manhattan to Florida. One of the reasons I made the switch from concrete sidewalks to sandy beaches — besides the fortuity to work out of what was my second home — was the weather and opportunity to ride my motorcycle almost any time I wanted. It’s been three years since I traded that one-bedroom apartment under the shadow of the Empire State building for a three-bedroom house with a pool, boat dock and garage on the Gulf Coast of the Sunshine State.

Oh yeah, did I mention I now have a garage?

I never knew having my own personal space to park my 1976 Harley-Davidson Super Glide would yield so many benefits after years of parking it on the 32nd Street sidewalk (technically illegal, but I was young, broke and the city was the Wild West back then) outside my building before being able to afford storing it in various indoor garages around the neighborhood.

Finally, for the next couple of decades I knew my garage-parked bike would be relatively safe (I did have my car stolen right out of a Sixth Avenue parking garage once), a little expensive ($250 a month), but wouldn’t have to worry about parking tickets, tow trucks or that ubiquitous homeless guy who occasionally “decorated” it with trinkets he culled from the garbage. The problems with the garage were that the bike was usually stashed in a dank corner swaddled under a perpetually dirty motorcycle cover (You wouldn’t believe how much exhaust soot the cars make and that the parking attendants must breath in) and it was jammed behind a couple of cars (I had to tip the attendant to move them while I unlocked the half dozen or so locks I secured it with). The act of retrieving my motorcycle became a task that actually made getting the bike out on the street a tiresome and sometimes time-consuming chore. It was easier to jump on the subway or grab a cab. Leisurely putts became a rarity.

The luxury of having my own garage now goes past just parking the bike. It means I can work on that leaky AMF (One rebuilt engine and two paint jobs later) in comfortable surroundings, leave parts scattered where they fall — all with with the convenience of an array of tools at my side. It is sure a big difference from when I would slip my bike between two parked cars on the street, kick some garbage out of the way and hope it didn’t rain before I finished changing the oil or whatnot. 

But a Manhattan parking garage did provide my Harley with secure storage over the winter months.

From November until March, I would occasionally stop in the garage, reach under the gunk-coated cover and start the old warhorse for a quick battery charge thinking about a joyous warm day when I could take it out for the ceremonial first ride of spring. Honestly, I mostly neglected the bike during the winter storage more than I should have. Out of sight, out of mind.

In Florida I have the luxury of being able to ride the bike almost any day I want. It’s sitting right there at my house. I’ve become spoiled by the warm weather and easy access to my bike 365 days a year. And in shorts and a tank top no less! No more soiled cover, no more airborne grime, no more drained batteries, no more waiting for the temperature to rise above 55-degrees (My personal comfort level) and no more 250 bucks for a three-foot by six-foot corner space every month. Florida is Nirvana for motorcyclists — and cheaper too. 

Now after three years in southwest Florida, I came to the conclusion that I have been been taking my motorcycle for granted and find myself reminiscing about that first day of spring ride ritual.

Looking back, after six months being cooped up during a New York City winter, the snow and cold, that first spin on your scooter every spring was like the last day of school and Christmas rolled onto two wheels. The act of gearing up — my 30 year-old leather jacket that has who knows how many miles and the scuffed patches from a few spills to prove it — and hoping that you have enough juice in the battery, the jets didn’t clog and the fuel didn’t evaporate (gas stations are rare birds in Manhattan) are now distant flashbacks.

The anxiety of those annual first city starts still linger though. Every year, while stepping around that puddle of oil under the bike before wiping off the accumulated dust and filth, there came the pressing of the start button followed by its first wheezing cough through the air filter, the popping burps from the exhausts and the prayers you don’t have to hump it up the parking lot ramp, then down to push-start it. Funny how those nuisances are fond remembrances now. 

Back on those first days, with any luck, the points and timing were okay, the gas was potent, tire pressure okay and there was enough oil left in it to take her out for that first annual spin.  

The sensation of riding my motorcycle into bright sunlight outside the darkened garage exit was a glorious feeling. Cruising down Fifth Avenue, the 1200cc vibrating underneath, a slight wind in your face with Mother Nature somehow finding a way to send a chill down your neck. The smell of Sabrett’s hot dog carts filled your other senses. The staleness of winter being exorcised from your bike through temporary plumes of black exhaust  and an occasional sputter. At the same time, your own pent-up soul being cleansed with a healthy blush on your cheeks and a smile on your face.

For me, it was always over to the FDR to rev this baby out of her doldrums. Cruising along the East River, dodging potholes and taxis was dangerous, but also a delightful, welcome adventure. Then it was up to 96th Street and over to Park Avenue southward for my favorite secret shortcut through a tunnel slicing through the Pan Am Building (What real New Yorkers still call the renamed MetLife Building) and around Grand Central Station on an elevated roadway looking down at Vanderbilt Place before tooling up 42nd Street. It was a thrill gliding past Times Square over to the West Side Highway up to the the George Washington Bridge into Jersey for a fresh tank of gas for that thirsty beast. 

In the coming weeks, it would be a wash, an oil change and tune up done on the crowded street. The leather jacket would go back in the closet and, considering the weather, more rides out of the city.

Today in Florida, like almost any day, I opened my garage door, hopped on the seat and rode that motorcycle to the local store for some groceries — hassle-free. No stuck padlocks, no ashy covers and no attendant with his hand out. 

In exchange, there are no more first rides of spring anymore.

Like that incurable drip of oil from my motorcycle and the eternal pool it leaves on my garage floor, the recollections of those anticipated first rides in New York City have stayed with me — even with the city inconveniences.

Arcadia Rodeo Championships In Motion (Photography)

Photos By Tony Mangia

The 92nd annual Arcadia All-Florida Championships were held during a four-day event this weekend and didn't disappoint. Riders, ropers, bull riders and a couple of thousand rodeo fans filled the new Mosaic Arena with saddles, ropes, stirrups and boots not to mention a pretty good pulled pork BBQ sandwich aroma.

I tried to capture the events (Steer wrestling, team roping, saddle bronc riding, tie-down roping and bull riding) in photographs showing the speed, precision and drama of the split second action between the animals and cowboys.

The cowgirls competing in the barrel racing event were just as spectacular.

Working MLB Spring Training Security In Times Of Coronavirus

Story and photos by Tony Mangia

I have been working security detail during spring training for a Major League Baseball team in Florida —usually about five or six weeks every winter—over the past three years. It’s temporary position that allows a person like myself to have a part-time job, chat with people and earn a little extra income on the side — all while in a sunny, outdoor baseball setting. Along with about 50 other men and women — many retired with law enforcement, military and even some jail guard experience — we are the front line of protection at each minor league stadium at every game during the months of February and March before the regular season starts.

The security team incorporates three different steps at the ticket holder entrances to make sure the players and patrons are safe on the practice fields, locker rooms and while sitting in the stands or enjoying the concourses filled concession stands and facilities, respectively. 

Game day entrants must first pass through a physical inspection where our guests are asked to empty their pockets into a small bin while their bags are hand-checked for for banned items like alcohol, knives, mace, explosives and firearms (Well, it is Florida and many individuals have legal conceal and carry permits) along with have-to-be-checked in items like beach chairs and umbrellas. Next, patrons pass through a metal-detecting magnetometer — which we call The Mag — and if you set that baby off, you have the pleasure of being wanded by our third line of protection with an hand-held metal detector.

Pretty much standard procedure at any stadium or public gathering these days and the results prove that security details like ours are universally successful as both a result and a deterrent. 

Every year Floridians like to sneer that we have to withstand the influx of snowbirds who bring down their colds and flus from up north. But this year there is a new threat coming from wherever which could possibly appear at our gates and stealthily affect the well being of everyone inside. It is called COVID-19 —  otherwise going by the less scientific name of coronavirus.

While it’s easy to find an errant knife or bourbon-filled flask within our three-step physical and technological screenings at the stadium entrances, the invisible menace of this viral infection is impossible to detect at any gate without specialized medical testing kits.

Now, with the heavy national media coverage of the coronavirus hitting close to home —  a couple of deaths in Florida attributed to the serious respiratory illness — MLB’s spring-training sports venues like where I work are taking steps to limit the possibility of contracting the virus.  While discussions about contamination have been a summarily hot topic while working at the security gates, there’s still way more friendly chatter because we try to make the extra wait in line as pleasant and innocuous as possible for the patrons as well as me and my fellow workers.

So when someone in line coughs and then tells you they just got off a cruise, you wince with concern before pulling that bottle of hand sanitizer from your pocket after they pass. And there are lots of cruise ships docking in Florida.

Florida is also filled with the most susceptible victims of the airborne Coronavirus  — which has killed over 4,000 people worldwide — namely senior citizens and retirees. Some of my co-workers might go by that label as well and a good portion of our game patrons are of advanced age with health concerns. Although, at least outwardly, most of them seem more concerned with the dip of the stock market than a rise in coronavirus. 

But our stadium team’s concerns and safety of the fans aren’t taken lightly.  At every game we screen through all-sized bags filled with crumpled tissues, hairbrushes, diapers, used sippy cups and other personal items which have touched who-knows-what before they got to the stadium. Even without the threat of coronavirus, the task of a security person can be slightly intrusive and let’s say a little yucky.

So with three entrance gates containing 10 security checks welcoming an average of about 4,000 people for each of 16 exhibition games, I figure I will physically come in contact with at least 6,400 unfamiliar individuals at the gate this month not to mention touching their personal nicknacks and the various face-to-face chit-chats and numerous hand-to-hand fist-bumps  — which have replaced the more exposed high-five — fans expect me to respond to. 

That’s a lot of person-to-person interaction.

Our management has taken exceptional steps to help prevent the contamination of public facilities by coronavirus including providing more hand sanitizer dispensers around the stadium. The cleaning crews spray down bathrooms, disinfect the doors, handles, railings and even the stadium seats are wiped down before each game. It also minimizes the spread of the common flu too. 

As for the gate watchers, we have rubber gloves, disinfectant wipes and use sticks to probe through bags while looking for contraband. We even joke that the magnetic rays of the Mags might help kill off the virus. They don’t.

The lighthearted puns help hide a subliminal concern among me and my co-workers and, although nobody has quit and I have yet to see a face mask on a patron or a worker, you don’t have to be germaphobe to use common sense and take simple precautions like washing your hands more often and avoid touching your face. And the occasional “thank you” from an attendee makes us feel appreciated for doing the dirty work so the Grapefruit League games can thrive here in Florida during this unpredictable coronavirus scare.

While the new, extended foul line netting at stadiums makes it more difficult for fans to make contact with the players, that longtime ritual of getting up close with them in a more relaxed, small town atmosphere at spring training has been curtailed. MLB recently sent a memo to all 30 teams (15 which train and play in southern Florida) telling players avoid taking balls and pens from from fans because of coronavirus. Most players will still sign a few things — albeit wearing their batting gloves — but some teams have barred them from direct signings and distribute pre-signed items instead. 

MLB and local stadium crews are taking the coronavirus seriously, but the games are still fun and exciting while we do our best to make it a safe place to come out and enjoy a beer and a hot dog in-between the strikes and home runs.

Just say thanks to the event staff while you’re there.

UPDATE

MLB is delaying the start of the 2020 regular season by at least two weeks in response to the coronavirus pandemic, the league announced Thursday.

The league also said in a statement that spring training games have been suspended, starting at 4 p.m. ET Thursday.

Commissioner Rob Manfred and the league's owners held a conference call Thursday afternoon to formalize the plan.

"MLB will announce the effects on the schedule at an appropriate time and will remain flexible as events warrant, with the hope of resuming normal operations as soon as possible," MLB said in its statement.

The announcement came while some spring training games in Florida were still in progress. MLB followed the NBA, NHL, MLS and college basketball tournaments in altering schedules because of the pandemic.

MLB had been scheduled to open its season March 26, with all 30 teams in action. Manfred left open whether each team still would play 162 games.

Kansas-Kansas State Basketball Brawl Had A Lot Of Extras Action

By Tony Mangia

A frightening basketball brawl broke out near the end of No. 3 Kansas'  81-59 victory vs. Kansas State at Phog Allen Fieldhouse on Tuesday night. In what looked like some wild-west fight scene out of a movie, dozens of players, coaches and a whole cast of extras, excuse me, background actors, got caught up in the crazy melee on the court and in the stands.

All that was missing were cowboy hats and swinging saloon doors.

The fracas started after Kansas' Silvio De Sousa swatted DaJuan Gordon on a breakaway as time expired. After the play, De Sousa stood over Gordon and when Kansas State's Cartier Diarra approached De Sousa, the rumble was on. 

Besides the principal players, the action includes a curious mix of casting call fill-ins unsuspectingly making the scene seem like an almost surreal, stage-blocked film shot. 

Props department, make sure a metal stool is positioned so that De Sousa can grab it and cock it back above his head and start the scene.

Rolling ... background ... action!

An all-out brawl just happened. pic.twitter.com/73MBmr0RNf

— Riley Gates (@Riley_Gates) January 22, 2020

First, and out of nowhere, there was some dude in white skinny jeans getting involved and setting off a mad rush by players from both teams towards K-State's side of the court. The fight spilled into the stands and disabled section as players from both benches tussled and punches were thrown. 

Benches emptied at the end of the Kansas State-Kansas game. pic.twitter.com/zWv46h3RJC

— ESPN (@espn) January 22, 2020

Then, after Skinny Jeans Guy, a whole cast of odd background characters gets caught in the frenzy.

Terrified Girl was the first.

Cue the Male Cheerleader actually holding back A Stunned Cop.

And Guy in Yellow Security Shirt got some prime face time.

Finally, if that wasn't enough, Where's Waldo was even spotted in the scene.

De Sousa was given an unsporting technical foul and a future suspension seems inevitable. All players who left the bench were ejected and could face further penalties as well. 

The two schools will be featured together again Feb. 29 in Manhattan, Kansas.

And the extras ... well, they got their big screen breaks.

India’s Camel Culture Being Wiped Out By Advocacy Groups and Government Regulations

Article and Photos by Tony Mangia

It’s a cultural tradition dating back over 150 years with roots going back as far back as the 10th century when Muslim warriors made their way through the deserts of India on hump-backed beasts by way of the Middle East. Now the Pushkar Camel Fair is fighting for its life and basically the livelihood of thousands of families and their way of existing.

Every year, for the last century and a half, thousands of Raika camel dealers and their herds converge on the rural Indian city of Pushkar during an annual fair where they show, trade and sell the plump-lipped mammals with the fat-laden (not water) padding on their backs.

During the week long fest known as Pushkar Camel Mela, the holy city of Pushkar — located about 150 km southwest of the smoggy, congested streets of Jaipur in the Indian state of Rajasthan — turns into a colorful and chaotic mix of camel traders, Hindu pilgrims and curious tourists.  While the fair has lost some of its majesty and commercial importance in modern India, the festival still attracts thousands of Raika and their herds of dromedaries along with thousands more foreign sightseers and local merchants.

The scene is almost hallucinatory, as throngs of camels — many adorned with bells, colorful necklaces and decorative straps to make them more attractive to buyers — lounge around chewing their cud and bellowing at the sky.

                                          

It’s hard not to notice the circles of peaceful Raika in their bright turbans talking among the braying camels — many of which are hobbled by ropes binding a front leg bent at the knee joint so they don't stray. But, these days, instead of making deals, the conversations lean more towards how they they can make ends meet. Sunlight from a dazzling blue sky illuminate the brown, weathered faces of the beleaguered tribesmen, but their futures don’t seem as bright.

Animal rights groups, technological accessibility and government intervention are all playing a part in the disintegration of the camel trade in India and specifically in Pushkar by driving many of these prideful men out of their generational territories through legislation influenced by politically correct movements.

Advocates of camel welfare reform accuse the Raika of animal culture "abuses" such as making the camels walk long distances, being forced into "stressful" commercial exploitation like tourist rides, the insertion of nose pegs, camel racing and general neglect of their herds.

While their deep-down motives are well intentioned, one has to wonder if these do-gooders are overstepping their boundaries?

The one-time friendly confines of social media which introduced the fair to computer screens worldwide — as well as more prying eyes — is now sometimes besmirching the event with accusations of animal cruelty and environmental destruction or by luring future generations away from the deserts to the cities with the promise of a more modern life. It’s not an uncommon phenomenon. Farmers and breeders all over India, China and worldwide have watched their agrarian and herding heritages slowly vanish because of the same cyberspace catalysts.

The Raika camel husbandry community has always been more like a large family than a merchant's association, and that includes the revered camels — who can live up to 20 years. And throughout their lifetimes, caretakers must provide medicine, food and training for each animal. It's a costly and round-the-clock occupation.

India, as a country, has the fifth largest population of camels in the world (estimated at around 300,000) and, although the camels' numbers are increasing globally, in India, that figure — as well as the the Raika's plight — are falling drastically. This downward slide in camel population and commerce trickles down from the breeders to the traders all the way to the artisans who utilize the wool, skin, bones and even camel dung to make blankets, leather goods, furniture inlays and paper.

The state of Rajasthan is where nearly 80-percent of India's camel population is. Gujarat and Haryana are the only other states where camel breeding is allowed.

Recent laws imposed by the government — driven and publicized by environmentalists and animal rights movements — are changing the Raika way of life by restricting tribesmen from traditional herding grounds and resources. Some of the restrictions includes less access to national parkland and stiffer grazing laws — limiting their migratory patterns and making their journeys to Pushkar and other locales more arduous for the camel herds. 

And there are other obstacles the modern-day Raika must overcome to make ends meet — including revising some ancient traditions and spiritual beliefs.

Historically, there was a ban on the selling of female camels to buyers outside of the Raika tribe and tradition forbade the slaughter of camels for meat entirely. Even selling the wool and the processing of camel's milk (drinking it fresh is okay) was believed to bring about a sort of bad karma and frowned upon. The only income for the Raika was really through breeding and selling.

However dire the Raika's sinking outlook from the quicksand of their circumstances came some flimsy lifelines — namely, new radical and pragmatic attitudes by the herdsmen.

Bull (male) camels — which were the only ones sold at the fair until 2000, when cows (females) were finally permitted to be put on the selling block — are now allowed to be butchered for meat by the Raika tribe, but not in Rajasthan where the slaughter of camels is illegal. 

The Catch-22 dilemma facing the Rajasthan-based Raika is that the Rajasthan Camel Act of 2015 provides penalties for taking any camels out of state for slaughter, castration or the insertion of nose pegs. That legal decree, like a camel's leg tether, basically restricts the Raika's ability to supplement their income by slaughtering their camels for meat.

All states have banned the butchering of any cows (female camels) outright to help sustain the camel species.

The Rajasthan Camel Act's strict maxims now drives some herders to illegally sneak them into Gujarat and Haryana for slaughter. And, in addition to avoiding authorities, the Raika also face the possibility of dealing with interference from animal rights activists who reportedly try and rescue the camels.

It's seems ironic, and almost blasphemous to the Raika, that the herdsmen have been reduced to killing their sacred camels — an act once considered barbaric in their beliefs — to salvage their culture of camel breeding.