‘WE GOT PLAYED’ – THE SAGA OF LITTLE RHODY
By Herb McCormick, yachting journalist
Here in Rhode Island, like last year, and the one before that, it’s been an exceptionally crummy year. In his Saturday column for the Providence Journal, the state’s biggest paper, sportswriter Bill Reynolds summed it up thusly: “Let’s see: high unemployment (about 12% and climbing), the Central Falls school disaster, everyone talking about moving to North Carolina, fear and loathing everywhere you go in R.I. Slink out the door, 2010.”
I grew up here, in Newport, and my dad’s longtime bookie, Nickie C at the old Cliff Walk Manor, would’ve wished the year farewell in similar fashion with his favorite expression: “Don’t let the screen door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
So when the news came down late on New Year’s Eve that the America’s Cup had been awarded to San Francisco after an 11th hour bid by the state to lure it to Newport, it seemed like the inevitable capper to a crappy year. As I watched the new flash on the tube a single word leapt to mind: “Perfect.”
A more accurate analysis was put forth in the “comments” section of the online story in the next morning’s ProJo. It was the first in a long string of like-minded assessments from folks who don’t happen to live by the water and who saw through the sham from the outset. I can’t remember if it was Vinnie from Cranston or Paulie from Pawtucket or Rocco from Woonsocket but it doesn’t really matter. Vinnie or Rocco or whoever it was absolutely nailed it: “We got played.”
Yo, Vinnie. Truth, brother.
Over the holidays I watched an old Charlie Brown Christmas special with my daughter. I love the fact that the “adults” never actually speak…you know they’re saying something by the single, repeated, droning note of an oboe or something: “Wah, wah, wah…”
A lot of good people put a lot of effort into trying to bring the Cup “home,” and though I tried to tell everyone who brought it up that there was an EXTREMELY strong possibility that we were being used as a negotiating tool for the ongoing talks in San Fran (not to mention the fact that finding the money that was being bandied about in a state on the brink of insolvement was going to be, um, tricky), optimism was high. There is little hope in RI at the moment (ironically, “Hope” is the state’s motto), and the possibility of a flood of jobs and tourists and development was strong ju-ju. Like, man, we needed this. Bad.
And in the aftermath of the decision, a lot of politicians and an Oracle spokesman were quoted about how close we’d come, and how cool that was, and what little doucats we might get tossed our way if this or that might happen down the road. But it all sounded like a lecture to Linus to me: “Wah, wah, wah, wah, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.” Noise. More noise. Endless noise.
Anyway, congratulations San Francisco. You’ll put on a hell of a regatta in the prettiest city on the planet. Honestly, when we first heard that the Cup was coming to Northern California, we were overjoyed.
Then, suddenly and dramatically, we were part of the discussion, and we allowed ourselves the luxury of dreaming, hoping against hope we weren’t in the crossfires of shysters and soundbites.
But here in hapless Little Rhody, the song remains the same. We got played.
Greetings from San Francisco. (I’d add ‘home of the 34th Defense, but I’m not in a “rubbing it in” mood)
As far as being played goes, it could be that we all got played. When this whole venue selection thing began, I was convinced that the rumors of a deal between Mascalzone and Ellison were true, and that the Defense was going to be held in Italy, as a payoff for helping get Ellison’s Deed of Gift challenge against Alinghi rolling.
Fortunately, that rumor was either wrong, or Ellison had a change of heart. Whatever the facts are, at least the Defense stayed in the USA.
I have to admit that the possibility of having the Defense in Newport really annoyed me, since I’m still a traditionalist about what little tradition is still left in the current AC. I think the event should be held as close to the defending club as possible, period.
While holding the Defense in Italy would have been a travesty, holding it in Newport, thousands of miles from the Defender’s waters, would at least qualify as a mini-travesty, especially when considering the benefits San Francisco Bay offers as a racing venue. But since both Newport and SF offer more or less the same benefits, it can reasonably be assumed that one, or both, locations were simply being used as leverage to cut the best deal. And it will take a long time to get that bad taste out of our respective mouths, no matter how well the events develop.
Since the prospects are good that Newport will host at least one of the AC World Series events in either the AC45 or AC 72 boats, it may well turn out that Newport got the better end of the deal, considering that the real drama in the past few Defense rounds has occurred during the Louis Vuitton series, rather than the final match. Time will tell.