An open letter to Ben Howland

Dear Mr. Howland:

I know you don’t remember me from the press conference last year. I was… Dear Mr. Howland:

I know you don’t remember me from the press conference last year. I was just another hand you shook, and we didn’t exchange more than a few pleasantries. And then I was just another body in the swarm of people taking your picture.

But I remember something you said then. And even though the quote wasn’t used in the article last year, I remember it pretty well.

“The buyout clause in this contract is such that I will be here for seven years,” you said. “Trust me.”

I still remember how genuine you seemed when you said that and everything else you said. And everything about you said you were such a nice guy, a really decent man that I still believe you to be.

Don’t worry, this isn’t the part where I scream “Why have you done this to us?” and lament your travel to UCLA. Actually, when all is said and done, I think a lot of people won’t be able to fault you as much as they’ll want to. Los Angeles is a bigger market, a bigger program, a richer history with more fans, and most importantly, your home; while we might be disappointed, most of us would probably do it too if we were in your shoes.

But I keep remembering “trust me” and, especially with Steve Pederson leaving for his home earlier this year, I just had to think about how far sports has come.

I don’t know if you know this story, but every Pittsburgh sports fan knows it as well as any legend. In 1953, a young Puerto Rican man impressed a Brooklyn Dodgers scout named Al Campanis so much that he was offered $10,000 to sign with Brooklyn for the next year. As the young man became more noticed, other teams, such as the Milwaukee Braves, offered him three times that, but he turned them down. When asked why, the young Roberto Clemente responded simply: “I promised the Dodgers.” When the Dodgers tried to hide him in their minor leagues the next year, Pittsburgh drafted him and gave him his first major-league contract. He died 18 years later, with exactly 3,000 hits, still a Pirate, in a plane crash carrying supplies to earthquake victims in Nicaraugua.

I’m sorry to have rambled Mr. Howland, and I certainly don’t expect you to be as honorable as Clemente; those were different times and values were different. But I can’t help but think that, if he could see us all now, he would be more than a little ashamed.

Adidas is going to help you buy out your contract, I understand, so that you can represent them in a bigger market instead of Pittsburgh. I can’t really blame them, either. They’re supposed to make money, being a business and all. Just like you’re a man and it’s hard to argue with you doing something that will make you and your family happy. In fact, it’s admirable in this era where money seems to rule everything.

I’m sorry, Mr. Howland, but you built us the only winning team we’ve ever had and it’s just rough for me to think that all of the support, the money, the Pete – it all meant nothing in the end. I know the dancing shadow of a concept we call loyalty has no value these days and that an arena and better players are no substitute for the glamour and tradition of UCLA, but is that really all there is?

All of this talking and I know it seems like there’s not much of a point. Well, there is something that I wanted to ask you. It has nothing to do with anger or sadness. I’m sure from meeting you that, last year, you had no idea that you ever could have been in this position. I believe that you are an honorable man and that when you said “trust me” you never meant to jilt us. But still, there’s one thing.

Every Pitt student wants to somehow reconcile the fact that his or her school’s being ditched and the fact that he or she would do the same thing in the same situation. We also have become quite fond of you and, like I said, it’s pretty upsetting to realize that it wasn’t enough to keep you here – again, Adidas can’t afford to care about loyalty. I guess my only question is: Does that make you as sad at all?

I suppose I’m outdated and sentimental and stupid to think that emotions have any place in sports today but, I imagine, in some sense, we’ll still be a little loyal to you. The ones that don’t hate you will probably root for UCLA more now that someone we actually care about is there. For what it’s worth, you built us something to be proud of, and I thank you for that. It’s just a shame that you won’t be here to be proud of it with us.

Sincerely,

Greg Heller-LaBelle

Greg Heller-LaBelle can still be inspired by Roberto Clemente, even though he knows it’s dorky. Ben Howland, or anyone else, can respond to his question at news@pittnews.com.