IS LIVE CHATTING EAGLES-BEARS
Logos, uniforms, and team colors are like basketball games.
The fewer turnovers the better.
The Sixers' recent decision to return to their glory days logo, savvy as the change might be, is a telltale sign of desperation.
It's not pleasant being the No. 4 team in town, especially when it doesn't look like that status is going to change anytime soon.
One can almost hear the voices in the marketing meeting that produced the decision.
"We're not selling merchandise. We're not selling tickets. We're not winning games. What can we do?"
"Hey, I know, let's try a throwback logo."
Maybe they'll get lucky like the Phillies. In 1992, the Phils abandoned their Brady Bunch-era uniforms and reverted to the classic pinstripes and P. Their timing was perfect. Classic usually works in baseball.
Or maybe, if this week's draft doesn't work out and the civic souring on pro basketball continues, the 76ers' new logo will come to signify another bad stretch for the 76ers.
The best-run teams have a sense of themselves, one that symbols and colors can neither enhance nor alter.
The Yankees. The Canadiens. The Celtics. The Packers.
In good times and bad, they've had sense enough to resist superficial changes. Check out the teams whose merchandise sells best. You'll find those four perennially among the leaders in their sports.
Meanwhile, franchises like the Marlins and Rays change logos, uniforms, and colors as frequently as bullpen lefthanders. It's a habit that helps explain why their fan bases are shallower than Tony Siragusa's analytical skills.
I wish the 76ers well. And I won't miss their old logo. Never could figure out what the heck it had to do with basketball, Philadelphia, or common sense.
I'm looking forward to an era when the Sixers no longer have to constantly change coaches, GMs, rosters, and logos.
They owe us one.
A bad Open. For all those who defended Bethpage Black's revamped and "fairer" setup as a U.S. Open venue, I have two words for you:
Lucas Glover.
You have to go back a long time, perhaps to Orville Moody, or maybe Dick Mayer, before you'll find a less likely, less compelling Open champion. And when the Open doesn't produce a worthy champion, it's often the course's fault.
Also, throughout the week we kept hearing, ad nauseam, about the great New York golf crowds. Apparently greatness in a golf fan is determined by how loudly and obnoxiously one can bellow "YOU DA MAN!" and "GET IN THE HOLE!"
