Thoughts and prayers to the Earllington family. Marcellus lost his uncle to the virus.
https://twitter.com/NYCHoopsnball/status/1244238977374314499?s=20
https://twitter.com/NYCHoopsnball/status/1244238977374314499?s=20
The Coronavirus
- Thread starter otis
- Start date
- Status
Terrible, another young person who has lost their life while in their prime.
May his soul rest in peace and my sympathies to the entire Earlington Family. May they be spared further pain.
May his soul rest in peace and my sympathies to the entire Earlington Family. May they be spared further pain.
Spocky Ramone
Well-known member
I did not see it mentioned in the thread but some people are being treated with vitamin c. Might not be a bad idea to take some proactive measures and drink your OJ
Spocky Ramone
Well-known member
[quote="bamafan" post=380548]Someone should redo the song My Sharona as My Corona with word changes.[/quote]
Apparently you have some pull...
https://nypost.com/2020/03/26/the-knack-debut-coronavirus-themed-my-sharona-parody-video/
Apparently you have some pull...
https://nypost.com/2020/03/26/the-knack-debut-coronavirus-themed-my-sharona-parody-video/
Last edited:
jerseyshorejohnny
Well-known member
Dr. Fauci Was a Basketball Captain. Now He’s America’s Point Guard.
His teammates in high school looked to Dr. Anthony Fauci for leadership. They’re still doing it more than 60 years later.
By Ben Cohen / WALL STREET JOURNAL
March 29, 2020
The basketball team at Regis High School had a 1-16 record as the players entered a rival’s gym in the winter of 1958 fully expecting to leave with yet another loss. The other team’s star was a future NBA coach who would one day run the New York Knicks. Regis was led by a diminutive future doctor who would one day run the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.
“Nobody gave us a chance,” said John Zeman, a Regis alumnus. “Everyone figured it was going to be a blowout.”
But there was one teenager who looked at this demoralizing collection of data and came to a wildly optimistic conclusion.
“Tony said no,” he said. “We’re going to win this game. And we did.”
Tony, the team captain better known as Fauch, a short kid with a thick Brooklyn accent who led his overmatched team to a highly improbable victory in the biggest game of his life, now answers to a name that most Americans have come to recognize: Dr. Anthony Fauci.
The infectious disease specialist who has long been regarded as a national treasure has become a source of trust for hundreds of millions of people over the last month. He is the raspy voice of reason. Fauci’s deep expertise, avuncular demeanor and direct style of communication have turned a distinguished 79-year-old immunologist into the world’s unlikeliest celebrity.
As the point guard of the U.S. response to public health scares, Fauci understands that crisis reveals character. But so does high-school basketball. The way that a bunch of teenagers come together as a team at such a formative time can be a powerful force that shapes the rest of their lives. And one win can stick with you forever.
“I don’t know how he could forget it,” said Bob Bastek, his Regis classmate.
Fauci, who keeps a miniature basketball hoop in his office, has been called “my hero” by Bob Cousy and “the GOAT” by Stephen Curry for his role in this pandemic, which would have delighted a child who grew up playing sports and worshiping Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle and Duke Snider. When he earned a scholarship to Regis, an elite Jesuit school in New York for boys with academic and leadership potential, the free tuition was worth the fantastic schlep: a bus in Brooklyn to a local train to the express train to the IRT to the Upper East Side of Manhattan. He learned to finish his Latin and Greek homework on the commute to get a few hours of sleep at night. “Basketball was important,” said Jim Higney, the team manager. “Homework was more important.”
Fauci always knew he wanted to be a doctor. “My interest in medicine stems from my keen interest in people, in asking questions and solving problems,” he said in 1989 for a National Institutes of Health oral history. But there was another way for him to scratch that itch before medical school: basketball.
When he learned that Fauci was the captain of his basketball team, his former colleague Mike Goldrich once replied: “Tony, how could you possibly be the captain of a basketball team?” But he also knows that some people are smaller than their heights. Fauci was always bigger.
Here’s the scouting report on Fauci: classic point guard, excellent ballhandler, pesky defender. Six of his classmates and teammates described him as a tenacious competitor in short shorts and striped socks whose feistiness on the court defied some parts of his personality and reflected others.
“He was ready to drive through whoever was in his way,” said Bob Burns.
“He was just a ball of fire,” Zeman said. “He would literally dribble through a brick wall.”
There is no evidence of Tony Fauci literally dribbling through a brick wall. But the Regis gym was brick-lined until his junior year. By the time he was a senior, Fauci was a natural choice for team captain.
He also happened to be one of Regis’s best players. Fauci was the outside threat, and his pal Artie Guarino was the inside force. “It was like Mutt and Jeff with Guarino and Fauci,” said George Garces, one of the school’s three cheerleaders.
Fauci scored 10.2 points per game, according to the school yearbook, but his teammates say those stats were deceptive. The team would have fallen apart without him.
“The leader doesn’t always score the most points,” Zeman said. “He was the leader.”
“He wasn’t a yeller, and he wasn’t a rah-rah-rah guy, but everybody looked up to him,” said Tom McCorry, a classmate and future college-basketball coach. “He worked hard and he was very unselfish—kind of the way he shows now. He really is the same person.”
Regis’s players needed his leadership as they crammed into a subway car on the way to a rival school in the Bronx one afternoon. They also could have used talent.
It had been a lousy season. They had only won one game. Fordham Prep had come to Regis a few weeks earlier and won by 16 points. And there was no reason to believe this night would be any different.
The exact details of what happened in this one magical game have been forgotten to history. But the game itself was unforgettable because of the final score: Regis 64, Fordham Prep 51.
Regis’s players didn’t know how to react to this strange phenomenon otherwise known as winning a basketball game. They ran to the locker room to celebrate before realizing they were being called back to the floor to collect a trophy that Fordham Prep figured would be staying at Fordham Prep. “I remember that game like yesterday,” Zeman said.
The upset was such a seminal event that Fauci’s teammates believe it must have left a permanent mark on him. This is someone who’s lived through the AIDS epidemic and the swine flu pandemic, cared personally for Ebola patients and now finds himself dealing with a virus that has long been his worst fear. But they insist he would remember this one high-school basketball game.
“I would bet a lot of money on it,” Burns said.
Fauci couldn't be reached to reminisce about his high-school basketball career.
It would take more than six decades for the other team’s star player to find out the name of Regis’s captain. Fordham Prep’s star that season was an all-city guard named Donnie Walsh who played at the University of North Carolina, coached the Denver Nuggets and built the Indiana Pacers and his hometown Knicks. Not until last week did he discover that he also crossed paths with a doctor he now admires on television. “I am sure Regis is proud to have him as an alumnus,” Walsh said in an email.
The other players on that Regis team keep tabs on Fauci by turning on their TVs and watching the rest of the nation come to respect him.
On the day in January when the White House announced its coronavirus task force—another team of 12 people who treat Fauci as their captain—Higney sent him an email with the subject line “Note from Regis Classmate” not knowing if he would hear back. Fauci responded that night.
“I hope that you are well,” he wrote. “Those were indeed the good old days.”
Write to Ben Cohen at ben.cohen@wsj.com
His teammates in high school looked to Dr. Anthony Fauci for leadership. They’re still doing it more than 60 years later.
By Ben Cohen / WALL STREET JOURNAL
March 29, 2020
The basketball team at Regis High School had a 1-16 record as the players entered a rival’s gym in the winter of 1958 fully expecting to leave with yet another loss. The other team’s star was a future NBA coach who would one day run the New York Knicks. Regis was led by a diminutive future doctor who would one day run the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.
“Nobody gave us a chance,” said John Zeman, a Regis alumnus. “Everyone figured it was going to be a blowout.”
But there was one teenager who looked at this demoralizing collection of data and came to a wildly optimistic conclusion.
“Tony said no,” he said. “We’re going to win this game. And we did.”
Tony, the team captain better known as Fauch, a short kid with a thick Brooklyn accent who led his overmatched team to a highly improbable victory in the biggest game of his life, now answers to a name that most Americans have come to recognize: Dr. Anthony Fauci.
The infectious disease specialist who has long been regarded as a national treasure has become a source of trust for hundreds of millions of people over the last month. He is the raspy voice of reason. Fauci’s deep expertise, avuncular demeanor and direct style of communication have turned a distinguished 79-year-old immunologist into the world’s unlikeliest celebrity.
As the point guard of the U.S. response to public health scares, Fauci understands that crisis reveals character. But so does high-school basketball. The way that a bunch of teenagers come together as a team at such a formative time can be a powerful force that shapes the rest of their lives. And one win can stick with you forever.
“I don’t know how he could forget it,” said Bob Bastek, his Regis classmate.
Fauci, who keeps a miniature basketball hoop in his office, has been called “my hero” by Bob Cousy and “the GOAT” by Stephen Curry for his role in this pandemic, which would have delighted a child who grew up playing sports and worshiping Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle and Duke Snider. When he earned a scholarship to Regis, an elite Jesuit school in New York for boys with academic and leadership potential, the free tuition was worth the fantastic schlep: a bus in Brooklyn to a local train to the express train to the IRT to the Upper East Side of Manhattan. He learned to finish his Latin and Greek homework on the commute to get a few hours of sleep at night. “Basketball was important,” said Jim Higney, the team manager. “Homework was more important.”
Fauci always knew he wanted to be a doctor. “My interest in medicine stems from my keen interest in people, in asking questions and solving problems,” he said in 1989 for a National Institutes of Health oral history. But there was another way for him to scratch that itch before medical school: basketball.
When he learned that Fauci was the captain of his basketball team, his former colleague Mike Goldrich once replied: “Tony, how could you possibly be the captain of a basketball team?” But he also knows that some people are smaller than their heights. Fauci was always bigger.
Here’s the scouting report on Fauci: classic point guard, excellent ballhandler, pesky defender. Six of his classmates and teammates described him as a tenacious competitor in short shorts and striped socks whose feistiness on the court defied some parts of his personality and reflected others.
“He was ready to drive through whoever was in his way,” said Bob Burns.
“He was just a ball of fire,” Zeman said. “He would literally dribble through a brick wall.”
There is no evidence of Tony Fauci literally dribbling through a brick wall. But the Regis gym was brick-lined until his junior year. By the time he was a senior, Fauci was a natural choice for team captain.
He also happened to be one of Regis’s best players. Fauci was the outside threat, and his pal Artie Guarino was the inside force. “It was like Mutt and Jeff with Guarino and Fauci,” said George Garces, one of the school’s three cheerleaders.
Fauci scored 10.2 points per game, according to the school yearbook, but his teammates say those stats were deceptive. The team would have fallen apart without him.
“The leader doesn’t always score the most points,” Zeman said. “He was the leader.”
“He wasn’t a yeller, and he wasn’t a rah-rah-rah guy, but everybody looked up to him,” said Tom McCorry, a classmate and future college-basketball coach. “He worked hard and he was very unselfish—kind of the way he shows now. He really is the same person.”
Regis’s players needed his leadership as they crammed into a subway car on the way to a rival school in the Bronx one afternoon. They also could have used talent.
It had been a lousy season. They had only won one game. Fordham Prep had come to Regis a few weeks earlier and won by 16 points. And there was no reason to believe this night would be any different.
The exact details of what happened in this one magical game have been forgotten to history. But the game itself was unforgettable because of the final score: Regis 64, Fordham Prep 51.
Regis’s players didn’t know how to react to this strange phenomenon otherwise known as winning a basketball game. They ran to the locker room to celebrate before realizing they were being called back to the floor to collect a trophy that Fordham Prep figured would be staying at Fordham Prep. “I remember that game like yesterday,” Zeman said.
The upset was such a seminal event that Fauci’s teammates believe it must have left a permanent mark on him. This is someone who’s lived through the AIDS epidemic and the swine flu pandemic, cared personally for Ebola patients and now finds himself dealing with a virus that has long been his worst fear. But they insist he would remember this one high-school basketball game.
“I would bet a lot of money on it,” Burns said.
Fauci couldn't be reached to reminisce about his high-school basketball career.
It would take more than six decades for the other team’s star player to find out the name of Regis’s captain. Fordham Prep’s star that season was an all-city guard named Donnie Walsh who played at the University of North Carolina, coached the Denver Nuggets and built the Indiana Pacers and his hometown Knicks. Not until last week did he discover that he also crossed paths with a doctor he now admires on television. “I am sure Regis is proud to have him as an alumnus,” Walsh said in an email.
The other players on that Regis team keep tabs on Fauci by turning on their TVs and watching the rest of the nation come to respect him.
On the day in January when the White House announced its coronavirus task force—another team of 12 people who treat Fauci as their captain—Higney sent him an email with the subject line “Note from Regis Classmate” not knowing if he would hear back. Fauci responded that night.
“I hope that you are well,” he wrote. “Those were indeed the good old days.”
Write to Ben Cohen at ben.cohen@wsj.com
[quote="Chicago Days" post=383778]Great news. They're not designed to treat contagion--nothing we have is. But I think they'll relieve area hospitals and take care of non-Covid-19 cases, which should help.[/quote]
CD plan is to move non-Covid patients from hospitals to ship, Javits, etc., and use hospitals only for Covid patients as much as possible. Niece works at Elmhurst. Another at Wyckoff Heights in my old hood. My buddy a physician at Beth Israel. Daily updates are harrowing. You're in as probably as good a location as any. Stay safe and healthy my friend.
CD plan is to move non-Covid patients from hospitals to ship, Javits, etc., and use hospitals only for Covid patients as much as possible. Niece works at Elmhurst. Another at Wyckoff Heights in my old hood. My buddy a physician at Beth Israel. Daily updates are harrowing. You're in as probably as good a location as any. Stay safe and healthy my friend.
Last edited:
[quote="Monte" post=383787][quote="Chicago Days" post=383778]Great news. They're not designed to treat contagion--nothing we have is. But I think they'll relieve area hospitals and take care of non-Covid-19 cases, which should help.[/quote]
CD plan is to move non-Covid patients from hospitals to ship, Javits, etc., and use hospitals only for Covid patients as much as possible. Niece works at Elmhurst. Another at Wyckoff Heights in my old hood. My buddy a physician at Beth Israel. Daily updates are harrowing. You're in as probably as good a location as any. Stay safe and healthy my friend.[/quote] Redmen Covid gathering at CD's getaway
CD plan is to move non-Covid patients from hospitals to ship, Javits, etc., and use hospitals only for Covid patients as much as possible. Niece works at Elmhurst. Another at Wyckoff Heights in my old hood. My buddy a physician at Beth Israel. Daily updates are harrowing. You're in as probably as good a location as any. Stay safe and healthy my friend.[/quote] Redmen Covid gathering at CD's getaway
Btw something thst should strike home with all of us and totally makes me appreciate the healthcare workers even more but he is my actually “ our “ friends MCNPA on the front lines of this horrible virus . Again much thanks to all of you on the front lines in the hospitals [attachment=1371]D7184E22-33CB-4EFD-97AB-373BC36AF275.jpeg[/attachment]
Last edited:
The Popes message from 3/27:
[URL]https://www.vaticannews.va/en/...et-orbi-pope-coronavirus-prayer-blessing.html[/URL]
[URL]https://www.vaticannews.va/en/...et-orbi-pope-coronavirus-prayer-blessing.html[/URL]
There are some great images and video of the USNS Comfort hospital ship, and other information about the Navy and Covid19
[URL]https://navylive.dodlive.mil/2020/03/15/u-s-navy-covid-19-updates/[/URL]
[URL]https://www.dvidshub.net/feature/NavyHospitalshipscovid19[/URL]
[URL]https://www.flickr.com/photos/usnavy/with/49716391361/[/URL]
[img ][URL]https://www.navy.mil/management/photodb/webphoto/web_200323-N-NO101-001.JPG[/URL][/img]
[URL]https://navylive.dodlive.mil/2020/03/15/u-s-navy-covid-19-updates/[/URL]
[URL]https://www.dvidshub.net/feature/NavyHospitalshipscovid19[/URL]
[URL]https://www.flickr.com/photos/usnavy/with/49716391361/[/URL]
[img ][URL]https://www.navy.mil/management/photodb/webphoto/web_200323-N-NO101-001.JPG[/URL][/img]
beast of the east
Active member
[quote="Chicago Days" post=383778]Great news. They're not designed to treat contagion--nothing we have is. But I think they'll relieve area hospitals and take care of non-Covid-19 cases, which should help.[/quote]
It's much more than that. Any patient that enters a hospital today must weigh the significant increased risk of contracting Covid-19 while a patient. If you are elderly, compromised by illness or disease, a hospital overwhelmed by Covid-19 is just about the worst place to be. This floating hospital will help immensely in my view to alleviate this.
It's much more than that. Any patient that enters a hospital today must weigh the significant increased risk of contracting Covid-19 while a patient. If you are elderly, compromised by illness or disease, a hospital overwhelmed by Covid-19 is just about the worst place to be. This floating hospital will help immensely in my view to alleviate this.
jerseyshorejohnny
Well-known member
Wimbledon’s Off. Is Everything in Sports Headed in the Same Direction?
Tennis at the All England Lawn Tennis Club won’t return until 2021. It might be time to recalibrate our expectations for other sports.
By Jason Gay / Wall Street Journal
April 1, 2020
Wimbledon is canceled, and it feels like a hammer. Canceled. Not postponed. Canceled. They’re not holding out hope of getting this under way in August or October. That’s that, friends. It isn’ t an April Fool’s gag. They’re going to let the grass grow across the pond, and they’ll see everyone in late June 2021.
This is no surprise. How do you hold an intensely global sporting event like Wimbledon, when you’ve already postponed the Summer Olympics in Tokyo and pretty much everything else this spring and early summer? How do you jam another rescheduled big wazoo into the autumn, when the autumn is already clogged with other hopefully and perhaps baselessly rescheduled big wazoos like the French Open, the Boston Marathon, Tyson Fury vs. Deontay Wilder—not to mention the U.S. Open, which traditionally closes out the tennis summer? How do you fit anything else in with what may (or may not) happen in the rest of 2020 for the NFL, the NBA, NHL, baseball, soccer, golf and college sports and on and on?
Wimbledon 2020 didn’t make any sense, and credit to the All England Lawn Tennis Club for acknowledging the obvious.
I’m afraid we’re all going to have to start recalibrating our expectations. Or, rather: re-recalibrating our expectations. There already was a moment of recalibration in sports when this pandemic began to unleash—shutdowns in Asia, shutdowns in Europe, then in the U.S., dramatically, when an NBA game was unplugged moments before tipoff. Since then, we’ve all been waiting, for flickers of hope that normal operations could resume, maybe with fans, maybe not, maybe something smaller, relocated, creative, but…not this month…or next month…or the month after that.
I understand the speculation. I get why commissioners are holding out. When will sports return? is a distracting, largely harmless parlor game amid the grim headlines of the day. It’s also reasonable to point out that sports is indeed a business, and there are plenty of people who will suffer economically as a result of these cancellations and postponements. I’m not talking about the billionaires who pay the millionaires—I’m talking about the many ordinary people involved in the everyday operations of sports. We’re already seeing the impact on stadium workers, a good many of whom are already out of work, or bracing for a layoff.
But nobody knows a thing. There’s no blueprint, no crystal ball. All of our speculation is wishful thinking, as this pandemic continues to escalate and consume the nation. Believe me, I want these games back as much as anyone—I have had it with the nostalgic replays; I’d watch a Jets preseason game in slow motion at this point—but it’s all a daydream, rooted in nothing.
Hopeful signals from Asia were perhaps a bit too hopeful—it’s proving harder to get sports back up and running than expected, even in countries where the virus is subsiding. (If you want to see the stakes, read Joshua Robinson’s piece on how a single Italian soccer game may have transformed the pandemic in that country.) Elsewhere, there are fanciful ideas of testing and monitoring athletes before competition, but how could anyone justify that sort of allocation when hospitals are begging for safety gear and ventilators?
This is what I mean by the re-recalibration. Sports are neither a global priority nor are they immune from the forces halting so many other lives. It should also go without saying that none of the disruptions happening to sports could ever compare to the true horror unfolding in communities practically everywhere.
Sports are sports, nothing more. And sometimes they can’t help themselves. It’s been fascinating/amusing/slightly ghastly to watch the NFL charge on with confidence this will be all sorted out in time for us all to resume the Great American Sunday Ritual come September. The league is making adjustments—they’re doing a stay-at-home draft, which you’re not supposed to make fun of, or the fussy NFL might zap you with a fine—but there’s an outward assumption that we can keep chattering on about mock drafts and free-agent acquisitions and eventually huddle back to business as usual in the fall.
Honestly, I’d love to know that the world has found its equilibrium by then. I’d love to chuckle at Tom Brady in his new Buccaneers outfit. I’m grateful for these sorts of distractions. I might even read a mock draft. That’s how upside down the world has gotten.
In the meantime, Wimbledon is canceled, and another ritual of summer is lost. It’s OK to acknowledge what this cathedral of a tournament means, and how early July won’t be the same without seeing Roger and Serena sliding around that sunburned British turf.
But that’s not the reality out the door, and on the ground.
This week, New York City began construction of a temporary hospital on the grounds of the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center, aka the site of the 2020 U.S. Open. The tennis center hospital is being built to offset some of the patient traffic which is currently overwhelming nearby hospitals.
That’s the reality on the ground. Sports will have to wait, like everything else.
Tennis at the All England Lawn Tennis Club won’t return until 2021. It might be time to recalibrate our expectations for other sports.
By Jason Gay / Wall Street Journal
April 1, 2020
Wimbledon is canceled, and it feels like a hammer. Canceled. Not postponed. Canceled. They’re not holding out hope of getting this under way in August or October. That’s that, friends. It isn’ t an April Fool’s gag. They’re going to let the grass grow across the pond, and they’ll see everyone in late June 2021.
This is no surprise. How do you hold an intensely global sporting event like Wimbledon, when you’ve already postponed the Summer Olympics in Tokyo and pretty much everything else this spring and early summer? How do you jam another rescheduled big wazoo into the autumn, when the autumn is already clogged with other hopefully and perhaps baselessly rescheduled big wazoos like the French Open, the Boston Marathon, Tyson Fury vs. Deontay Wilder—not to mention the U.S. Open, which traditionally closes out the tennis summer? How do you fit anything else in with what may (or may not) happen in the rest of 2020 for the NFL, the NBA, NHL, baseball, soccer, golf and college sports and on and on?
Wimbledon 2020 didn’t make any sense, and credit to the All England Lawn Tennis Club for acknowledging the obvious.
I’m afraid we’re all going to have to start recalibrating our expectations. Or, rather: re-recalibrating our expectations. There already was a moment of recalibration in sports when this pandemic began to unleash—shutdowns in Asia, shutdowns in Europe, then in the U.S., dramatically, when an NBA game was unplugged moments before tipoff. Since then, we’ve all been waiting, for flickers of hope that normal operations could resume, maybe with fans, maybe not, maybe something smaller, relocated, creative, but…not this month…or next month…or the month after that.
I understand the speculation. I get why commissioners are holding out. When will sports return? is a distracting, largely harmless parlor game amid the grim headlines of the day. It’s also reasonable to point out that sports is indeed a business, and there are plenty of people who will suffer economically as a result of these cancellations and postponements. I’m not talking about the billionaires who pay the millionaires—I’m talking about the many ordinary people involved in the everyday operations of sports. We’re already seeing the impact on stadium workers, a good many of whom are already out of work, or bracing for a layoff.
But nobody knows a thing. There’s no blueprint, no crystal ball. All of our speculation is wishful thinking, as this pandemic continues to escalate and consume the nation. Believe me, I want these games back as much as anyone—I have had it with the nostalgic replays; I’d watch a Jets preseason game in slow motion at this point—but it’s all a daydream, rooted in nothing.
Hopeful signals from Asia were perhaps a bit too hopeful—it’s proving harder to get sports back up and running than expected, even in countries where the virus is subsiding. (If you want to see the stakes, read Joshua Robinson’s piece on how a single Italian soccer game may have transformed the pandemic in that country.) Elsewhere, there are fanciful ideas of testing and monitoring athletes before competition, but how could anyone justify that sort of allocation when hospitals are begging for safety gear and ventilators?
This is what I mean by the re-recalibration. Sports are neither a global priority nor are they immune from the forces halting so many other lives. It should also go without saying that none of the disruptions happening to sports could ever compare to the true horror unfolding in communities practically everywhere.
Sports are sports, nothing more. And sometimes they can’t help themselves. It’s been fascinating/amusing/slightly ghastly to watch the NFL charge on with confidence this will be all sorted out in time for us all to resume the Great American Sunday Ritual come September. The league is making adjustments—they’re doing a stay-at-home draft, which you’re not supposed to make fun of, or the fussy NFL might zap you with a fine—but there’s an outward assumption that we can keep chattering on about mock drafts and free-agent acquisitions and eventually huddle back to business as usual in the fall.
Honestly, I’d love to know that the world has found its equilibrium by then. I’d love to chuckle at Tom Brady in his new Buccaneers outfit. I’m grateful for these sorts of distractions. I might even read a mock draft. That’s how upside down the world has gotten.
In the meantime, Wimbledon is canceled, and another ritual of summer is lost. It’s OK to acknowledge what this cathedral of a tournament means, and how early July won’t be the same without seeing Roger and Serena sliding around that sunburned British turf.
But that’s not the reality out the door, and on the ground.
This week, New York City began construction of a temporary hospital on the grounds of the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center, aka the site of the 2020 U.S. Open. The tennis center hospital is being built to offset some of the patient traffic which is currently overwhelming nearby hospitals.
That’s the reality on the ground. Sports will have to wait, like everything else.
- Status