McHale, McCombs and more…

Things sure changed on the Minnesota sports scene, during the short week I was away.

On the Vikings front, Red McCombs has announced a potential sale agreement that would put the team in the hands of Reggie Fowler, an Arizona businessman and, potentially, the NFL’s first black owner. On the T-Wolves front, Kevin McHale dismissed his friend, Flip Saunders, and took over coaching duties himself.

This is not news to most of you. But here’s my take on both matters…

THE VIKINGS SALE

The idea of Reggie Fowler owning the Vikings is a fun one. It would be nice to see the NFL get its first African-American owner. But, I think, in the end it will be Glen Taylor, not Reggie Fowler, who owns the team.

Is this because I think the NFL is full of racist owners? No. But the NFL is full of billionaire owners and, from what anyone can tell, Fowler falls short on that count. By a margin.

Here’s the math, as I understand it. To own an NFL squad, you have to have a lead partner (Fowler, in this case) who owns at least 30 percent of the team. With the announced sale price of approximately $625 million, that means Fowler would need to chip in around $187.5 million. Cash. Not credit, not loans.

But the NFL Finance Committee does not stop its stipulations there. An lead partner also needs the financial wearwithall to foot the bill for about six to eight years of operating at a deficit, in case of a financial downturn in the NFL economy. And the lead partner needs to have enough in assets to buy out any potential partners who decide they want out of the deal.

What that means is, in addition to around $187.5 million in cash, Fowler would need about another $400 million, at minimum, in assets, to make the deal fly by the NFL Finance Committee with flying colors. That means Fowler would need to be worth around $600 million. Unfortunately, reports on Fowler’s personal wealth place him at around $200 to $400 million. So unless he has some money stuffed away in a sock drawer somewhere, it’s not likely Fowler has the means to actually pass muster with the NFL Finance Committee.

PREDICTION: At the March meetings, the NFL Finance Committee will deep-six Fowler’s bid, due strictly to financial means issues, and Glen Taylor will own the Vikings by May or thereabouts. Taylor, in addition to being a native Minnesotan, is worth $2.1 billion. That’d be plenty to pass muster with the NFL Finance Committee. And if Taylor has any sense of PR value… and he typically does… once he owns the team, he’ll extend a minority partner opportunity to Fowler. Whether Fowler accepts or not is anyone’s guess.

McHALE FIRES SAUNDERS, TAKES OVER AS WOLVES COACH

I never saw it coming.

Sure, the Wolves were operating around .500 with a staff that went to the Western Conference championship series last season. Sure, a couple of malcontent, overpaid players were griping and tanking the season on purpose. But to see Saunders, a man who lasted nine and a half years in the same job, in a league where most coaches last about three seasons? And especially when the GM is the coach’s college buddy? I never would have predicted it.

In fairness to Saunders, it’s not his fault Latrell Sprewell and Sam Cassell got bad attitudes when, at age 35, they both wanted multi-year contract extensions that would make them both even more overpaid in the twilight of their NBA careers. What is his fault is that he wasn’t able to snap them out of it. Saunders is still a great coach, as the interest of several teams in his services, within days of his ouster, attest.

Since taking over, McHale has guided the Wolves to a 2-1 record, putting the team at 27-27, but that’s probably more the result of the intimidation factor of playing for the GM. It’s not a long-term solution, and everyone knows that. What bugs me about Flip’s ouster as coach is not that it happened… I kinda thought it might. But in mid-season? That’s where I have a problem with it.

It would have made more sense to dismiss Saunders, if that’s what McHale and Taylor wanted to do, at the end of a season. After all, you get the consolation prize of getting into the NBA lottery and infusing the team with some young talent, if the team continues to flounder. And even with McHale at the helm, the likelihood is that the Wolves still won’t be able to beat the top teams, this year, or get very far, even if they do qualify for the playoffs. So what’s the point of dismissing Saunders before the All-Star break? It’s just an odd choice.

PREDICTION: With 28 games to go, the Wolves will go 18-10 the rest of the way, just barely make the playoffs, and lose to the first- or second-seeded team in the West, in the first round. Then the team will not have much talent to choose from this summer by the time their draft pick rolls around. Oh, and by next fall, the new Wolves Coach will be… Eric Mussleman.

Hell week

The good news is, Grandma is going to be okay. Still, my trip to Chicago with my fiancee last week was basically a genuine “hell week.”

It’s hard to discuss everything chronologically, so instead, I’ll focus on themes. At least, that way, it’ll be easier to follow than it was to live through.

GRANDMA’S MEDICAL CONDITION

Although we went down on Tuesday, things really began the week before. On the previous Friday, Grandma was recovering from hip replacement surgery and seemed to be doing fine and expected to be released within a week. Unfortunately, it was not to be so simple.

For the purposes of surgery, Grandma had been given a blood thinner, but the dosage was off and then, to make matters worse, interacted with a diabetes med she was on and things started to get bad.

On Thursday, she had been up and around, doing a lot on her own. By Friday, she was back in bed and becoming nonresponsive. By Saturday, her blood sugar was up to a dangerous 180 and she was even less responsive and completely bed-ridden. No one was called. No doctor was brought in.

By Sunday, Grandma was completely nonresponsive and her blood sugar was up to 300. Finally, late in the day, a doctor was called in to look at her. This, despite her blood sugar being checked four times a day. The doctor was shocked he had not been brought in earlier, but it was still Monday before she was hospitalized and Tuesday before my fiancee and I received word about what was going on.

When we were called, we had one doc saying relatives should “be on the next plane out,” while another said, “you can take up to 24 hours to get here.” Grandma was, by then, nearly comatose and in danger of organ failure, with emergency dialysis procedures underway. By the time we arrived and saw her, she was bleeding from everywhere it was possible to bleed and, although she was starting to become responsive on occasion, had every appearance of a woman about to shuffle off the mortal coil – at least, that was our unspoken fear.

My fiancee and I prayed with her, a first for Grandma, who typically doesn’t like to be prayed for, except by her priest. Grandma and my fiancee had an important meeting of the minds. But the mood still seemed to be one of “waiting for the worst to happen.”

But on Thursday, things turned for the better. The Vitamin K started taking effect to stop the internal bleeding and – despite being exhausted – Grandma was more coherent. By Friday, she was more alert and had the spark back in her eyes. And the doctors said it was just a matter of a room opening up before she’d be moved out of ICU and into the regular part of the hospital. That happened Saturday. She now only has to regain her strength and begin her rehabilitation… all over again.

MY FIANCEE’S HEALTH

Due to the stress of the situation, my fiancee, who has asthsma, went into a full-blown asthma episode. Stranded far from home and without a rescue inhaler, in desperation, we bought over-the-counter Primatene Mist, which is probably all that saved us from having her join Grandma in the hospital.

The next day, we were able to get her prescriptions transferred down, but by then the asthsma was set in and by the end of the week had developed into an upper respiratory infection. For those not in the know, when in a full-blown asthsma episode, the worst place for a person to be is… you guessed it… in a hospital full of sick folks. But, you do what you have to in a situation like that, I guess.

While down there, neither of us got more than three hours of sleep a night and, of course, it was all book-ended by eight or more hour trips to and back from Chicago. So exhaustion played a factor, too.

OUR RETURN

As if all this weren’t stressful enough, when we returned home, my fiancee’s apartment had been trashed by the cable company. Their disrespect included:

1) Not cleaning up their own mess
2) Leaving toxic chemicals on the floor for her cat to walk in, and possibly lick.
3) Not moving her rat’s cage, letting the debris fall on it, polluting the rat’s cage, which caused the rat to chew deep scars into its skin.
4) Stealing food, a chair, a book and perhaps a couple other items from her apartment.
5) Leaving the place in a shambles.

Wonderful customer service, eh? Thanks, Comcast.

To add icing to the cake, while we were reacting to the trashed apartment, someone stole her wallet, which had been left out in the hallway with our bags. It was eventually returned, three days later, but not before adding even more stress as we went through the process of canceling check cards and such.

We were able to have our Valentine’s Day dinner, two days early. But for the final insult, while cleaning up, the candle-holder I gave her as a V-Day gift tipped over and broke. Sometimes, you just end up feeling like Job, the tragic Old Testament character. Truly, it was a hell week. We can only be glad that it’s finally over.

Hit by the unexpected

A lot of people talk freely about “the best laid plans of mice and men” often going awry.

I don’t know a whole lot about that. What I do know is that sometimes it feels like, just as you’re getting your bearings and things are looking up, BLAM! You get hit by the unexpected and everything falls to chaos again…

No, this isn’t another dry essay about September 11. The ‘net is filled with those. This one hits closer to home. At work today, I got a call from my fiancee. It seems her grandmother is hospitalized and in serious condition. Things are looking grim. So we’re headed down to Chicago in a few hours to visit and pray and hope for the best while bracing ourselves if “the best” doesn’t happen. Needless to say, it won’t be a fun trip to Chicago.

It’s amazing how fast you can grow attached to people. Although I’ve known my fiancee for close to a year and we’ve been engaged for about four months, I’ve only been down to Chicago to visit her relatives there three times. Yet the news that one of them is in serious condition has me as shaken as I’d be if it were one of my own relatives. And they want me there, with them.

Three visits, none longer than three days. In all, maybe a week of knowing Grandma. Not that long, when you think about it. Yet we’re all wrapped up in each other’s hearts. And now, facing the possibility of a loss of someone I haven’t yet come to know as well as I’d like to.

I wish I could connect this to some deep insight, make a connection to a bigger issue that everyone can relate to. But the wound is fresh and the outcome too uncertain.

I know this much: Even though a year ago I didn’t know Grandma, I don’t want to think about losing her quite so soon. Our hope had been for her – and my parents – to be around in 13-14 months when we get married and the possibility that now that might not happen? It’s no fun to think about.

So excuse me if this post is an incoherant ramble and, if you could hear me, I sound a little bit like Mushmouth from Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids. It’s just that I’ve been hit by the unexpected.

I’ll be back.