Friday Beer Post: The Cullen-Harrison Act

This past Wednesday marked the 77th Anniversary of the Cullen-Harrison Act. WTF is the Cullen-Harrison Act, you ask? Cullen-Harrison legalized the sale of 3.2% (Interestingly, common thought beer in the United States. While that may not sound like something to celebrate, you have to remember that in 1933 Prohibition (BOOOOO) was still in effect.

(The cover of the Cincinnati Post celebrating the return of beer)

On January 16, 1919, the legislatures of Utah, North Carolina and Nebraska became the 34th, 35th, and 36th states to ratify the 18th Amendment, passing the threshold required by the Constitution. (I'd like to give a nod to Connecticut and Rhode Island for being the only states to reject Prohibition. Huzzah!) 13 days later, Prohibition became law of the land, and a year later the Nation's taps ran dry.

The Amendment, which was a reaction to the Progressive Era and the Temperance Movement intended to "improve society," was a national codification of an increasingly fervent series of state-wide movements. For all the high-minded ideals which spawned the 18th Amendment, for the most part all the country received was a higher incidence of organized crime and a serious need for a drink. When the Great Depression arrived at the end of the decade, with it's falling stock prices and brokers, there finally began a strong movement to repeal what temperance hath wrought.

(I didn't want to touch your sober-ass lips anyways)

FDR, when running for his 1st term, promised repeal of the 18th Amendment (it was a plank of the Democratic Party's platform that year). 3 weeks after his election, FDR began to make good on that progress when Cullen-Harrison landed on his desk. (He had previously sent a message to congress requesting the legislation.) He was more than happy to sign it into law, and the Act took effect on April 7th, 1933. It was the first governmental crack at Prohibition. While it left it up to the individual states weather or not to enact the provisions, the Act allowed for the brewing and sale of the nation's first legal beer since 1920.

(The man loved his booze, making probably the worst martinis in the history of the world.)

Today, 3.2% beer (derisively called "near-beer") is mostly a joke amongst serious beer drinkers. Personally, I refer to it as "Super market piss." But 77 years ago, I would've hailed it's arrival as a glorious sign of the end of Prohibition. Beer in any form is better than no beer at all, of course.

Happy Friday!

Quick-Post: The continuing saga of liquor laws in Colorado.

Consider this a non-Friday Beer Post. I ran across something interesting in this mornings Denver Post. The grocery store lobby in this state continues to try and get full-service liquor license rights for it's supermarket members. I don't want to get too political with this site, but it's about beer (and our ability to purchase it), so damn it, I'm gonna talk about it.

Over the past year, there have been varying pushes by convenience stores and supermarkets to crack into the liquor selling industry. In Colorado, the only stores that can regularly sell full strength liquor or beer are full-time liquor stores. One of the first things I noticed when moving to Boulder (admittedly a college town) was the fact that there was at least one liquor store for every commercially zoned block. Many of these stores would be muscled out by mega-marts undercutting their prices on staple beer and liquors. While large liquor retailers, like LiquorMart or TotalBeverage will get along just fine, the smaller stores will slowly cease to exist. What this would bring to the state is 3-fold:

1. Less liquor license revenue. With the right to sell full-strength alcohol resting only in the hands of small-ish liquor stores, the state gets more revenue from the sale of liquor licenses than it would if the mega-marts had the same ability. There are some 1600 licenses in the state currently, and that number would decrease rapidly if mom-an-pop stores were bought out. Business license and tax revenues goes along with this concept.
   
2. Fewer jobs. Along the same line, with the current system, the large amount of small, dedicated liquor stores means more jobs. If the supermarkets are allowed to sell liquor, many of those extra retail jobs would disappear.
3. Less variety. Supermarkets have their own national distributors, and it is often hard for micro and craft breweries to get onto supermarket shelves. In Colorado, because of the high number of independent liquor stores, there is a higher level of competition in the market. I know I choose what liquor store to go to based not on location or convenience, but by selection and price, and I have plenty of option to choose from.

I see no benefit to Colorado in giving the mega-marts the ability to sell hard liquor. Much of the extra income generated would leave the state, as those corporations are national, and not local. Add to that the loss of license and tax revenue, jobs, and variety, and it just makes no sense to change the current law. The proposal in the linked article is doubly worrisome. Smaller stores would just be bullied into selling out to the mega-marts. If you don't think there'd be intimidation involved, then you're just fooling yourself. In addition, closing two stores every-time a mega-mart starts selling liquor would just accelerate the loss of small businesses and jobs. It's crap legislation, and needs to die in committee.

The pace of play: Umpires trying to speed up the game

One of the primary complaints amongst non baseball fans is that the game is "slow and boring." Now, anyone who realizes that other sports, like football, contain as little as 11 minutes of action over a 3 hour period realize that these people lack some needed perspective. Never-the-less, I can understand that baseball may seem leisurely when viewed by a non-baseball fan. There are elements to the game that, either necessarily or unnecessarily, slow down the action. Pitching changes, coaches meetings, replay on home runs, and excessive warm-up periods between innings all create a lethargic feel to the modern major league game (Interestingly, at the beginning of the 20th Century, American's loved baseball particularly because of how fast-paced it was. I blame television).

Over the years, baseball has tried a few different things to speed up the game. I seem to remember reading somewhere that baseball tried a "pitch clock" (think of a shot clock in basketball) back in the '80s, but I can't find a source (damn internet). More recently, baseball has emphasized staying in the batters box, enforcing the 12 second limit on pitching with no runners on base (with runners on, many pitchers still grind the game to a halt.), and limiting the length of coaches meetings. Regardless, the "time-less game" will take however long it damn well pleases.

Since the game is dependent on the pitcher (defense) for instigating the action, it can be to the pitcher's advantage to slow the pace down (both to rest after a tough pitch, and to affect the hitters rhythm). In return, the hitter will try to mess with the pitchers timing by stepping out of the box. Especially in the playoffs, when pitchers really "bear-down" (read: stare at the catcher for a long time; hopelessly afraid to throw lest the hitter jack it into the stands), the game can settle into a crawl as a result of these duels, often taking 4 or more hours to complete a regular game. This bores even me (I also blame Fox, cause they have to play a damn commercial every 5 seconds).

(Some pitchers, like Mark Buehrle, don't give a fuck, and throw almost as quickly as possible. Above: Buehrle is holding a clock that commemorates his game from a few years back that was completed in 1hr 38min. That's so fast, you almost couldn't finish a beer before last call.)

I bring all of this up because yesterday veteran umpire Joe West publicly shamed the Red Sox and Yankees for taking too much time to play a baseball game. Being quoted in the Bergen (N.J.) Record, West said that the teams, in their recent season opening series, were taking too much time to play the game, and that it was "pathetic and embarrassing," and "a disgrace to baseball."
After Tuesday's game, West grumbled "they're the two clubs that don't try to pick up the pace. They're two of the best teams in baseball. Why are they playing the slowest? It's pathetic and embarrassing. They take too long to play."
(That's West on the left, throwing Ozzie out of the game. Joe is also a country music singer and holds patents for umpiring gear. He's an interesting guy)

Anectdotaly, I can confirm that the Yanks and Red Sox play very leisurely. I always dread watching my Sox play those two teams, 'cause the games always seem to go on forever. Both teams intentionally take pitches to extend at-bats and attempt to be extra fine in extended counts. Specifically, the first two games of the season lasted 3hrs 46min and 3hrs 48min respectively. National TV or not, that's way too long for a regular season game that only goes 9 innings. It was during the second game that plate umpire Angel Hernandez made multiple attempts to speed up the game, refusing to grant time (the ump doesn't have to give time to the hitter) to hitters on 3 occasions. After the game crew chief "Country Joe" West spoke up. His tirade worked. Last nights Yanks-Red Sox game only lasted 3hrs 21min, and that includes an extra inning. (Players know better than to piss off an umpire.)

With 162 games in a season, baseball is long enough, and I have no problem with the umpires stepping out from behind the plate publicly prod the players into action. Baseball needs to step up their efforts to speed up the game. While I'm glad they did speak up, it shouldn't be left to the umpires to publicly shame the players into speeding up the game. Bud Selig needs to give the umpires a public mandate to enforce the existing rules designed to speed up play. A 4-hour game in April is bad enough. Two in a row is reprehensible.

Quick-Post: All Power to the Hypnotoad

All power to the Hypnotoad

The Yankees bitch about poor teams being poor, and I agree with them

Yesterday, the news broke that the president of the New York Yankees took a shot at Milwaukee Brewers owner Mark Attanasio for talking about the difficulties of resigning star players in small markets. Attanasio was quoted in USA Today, when talking about the difficulties in re-signing Prince Fielder, as saying "We're struggling to sign [Fielder] and the Yankees infield is making more than our team." It's a perfectly valid point. Small market teams, like the Brewers, routinely struggle to keep big-time stars who come up through their systems, while teams like the Yankees make a living through free agency, poaching the stars from teams who are unwilling, or unable to play. But is that the Yankees (and other big market franchises) fault?
(Will Milwaukee pony up the bucks to keep Prince? I certainly hope so.)

Yankees president Randy Levine, upon hearing the quote, retorted "I'm sorry that my friend Mark continues to whine (Attanasio contends he wasn't whining. Whatever.) about his running the Brewers. We play by all the rules and there doesn't seem to be any complaints when teams such as the Brewers receive hundreds of millions of dollars that they get from us in revenue sharing the last few years. Take some of that money that you get from us and use that to sign your players. The question that should be asked is: Where has the hundreds of millions of dollars in revenue sharing gone?" What Levine is getting at here is that the revenue sharing system, which baseball has been operating under for more than a decade, is broken. And I tend to agree with him.

(Oh, you done pissed off Levine. From: ESPN)

Earlier this year, I briefly mentioned the Florida Marlins being pressured by baseball to actually spend some of the money that teams like the Yankees dole out to them in revenue sharing. The Marlins obliged by almost immediately inking star pitcher Josh Johnson to a $40 million contract extension. But this is not the norm. It has been a problem over the years: teams are receiving big bucks from larger clubs without it showing up on their big league payroll.

Listening to Mike & Mike this morning, they had Jayson Stark on to talk about this issue. While the only data readily available online shows the years 2002, '03, and '05, Stark talked current numbers. With nearly $500 million being put into the revenue sharing pot this year by the upper echelon of big market clubs, the bottom 5 market teams make around $80 million before a single game is played. Combined with the fact that teams like San Diego and Pittsburgh have payrolls under $40 million, its a fair question to ask "where has the money gone?"

According to the current collective bargaining agreement (Which expires in 2011, God help me), the intent of the revenue sharing program is that "[each] Club shall use its revenue sharing receipts (from the Base Plan, the Central Fund Component and the Commissioner’s Discretionary Fund) in an effort to improve its performance on the field. (emphasis mine)" They even have to provide a written report describing their efforts to meet that goal. Teams generally get around this by saying the money going to improving "institutional security" (paying down debt) and shoring up their minor league system. But minor leaguers aren't "on the field" in my estimation.

The whole goal of the plan is to keep baseball competitive, balanced, and laced with parity. While the Yankees pay into the Central Fund begrudgingly, they do so with the hope that those monies go towards improving other teams with the intent of growing the sport as a whole. How nice of them. In return, they should be seeing something more than $33 million payrolls, and 18 years worth of rebuilding plans (I'm looking at you, Pittsburgh). (Short aside, the White Sox are in this too. In 2005, they paid $18 million into the fund, and the numbers have only gone up since then. Let's go Cleveland, $60 million just aint gonna cut it. Let's see some spending, eh? I want return on the investment of Jerry Reinsdorf's money!)

(Seriously Pittsburgh, I don't want any crap. Pay McCutcheon, get him some protection, and start building a damn team. It's been a 18-year rebuilding plan at this point.)

After dumping nearly $200 million to their competitors, I have no problem with the Yankees pushing back on the general assumption that they are just bullying their competition around. They deserve to see teams actually try to improve their major league clubs with their money. It's easy to paint the Yankees as an evil empire, out to take over the baseball world with their pocketbooks, but it's understandable in this instance for the Yankees to complain about their poorer brethren, since they're basically financing them. On the limited scale of major league baseball, I have no problem with this type of revenue sharing. It's in the interest of every team that the sport remain competitive, and true revenue sharing is one way to go about that as the disparity between the haves and the have-nots grows larger.

(I'm certainly no Yankee apologist, but they do have a point. Spend the dough, damnit.)

The Brewers, particularly, are not the problem. They've increased payroll each of the last 5 years, and are nearing $90 million; so cracking on Attanasio is a little harsh. But the response that Levine gave to the question wasn't necessarily about the Brewers, it was about the general frustration the Yankees have with the system. Along with all the other garbage that baseball will have to deal with when the CBA expires next year, this is an issue that must be addressed, or teams like the Yankees may pull out of revenue sharing entirely. That would be a disaster.

Quick-Post: Just in case you thought I was kidding

Just in case you thought I was kidding about no one giving a shit about Duke winning the National Title outside of Durham, NC (and Dickie V's house), check out this picture:

(From: Deadspin.com)

On the left is the Charlotte newspaper cover from last years UNC title. On the right is yesterday's cover from Duke's title. That's a whole lot of not giving a shit. (When you get beaten out by a warning about high pollen count, you know no one cares.)

Quick Post: That was lame-ish

Just a quick-post today, 'cause I am under the gun at work.

I took in the National Championship game at a bar last night, and I have a couple of thoughts.

1. Butler was oftentimes sloppy with the basketball and frequently got lost on defense. Their intensity seemed to get them out of a comfort level to the point that they seemed to be playing frantic. This lead to a rather chaotic performance, and the game seemed to lack any real flow to it as a result. However, during spurts in the 2nd half where Duke seemed destined to pull away for good, that frantic energy kept the inevitable "FINNISH HIM!" moment from occurring. Kudos to Butler for bringing the energy, even if they didn't seem to know what to do with it.
   
2. That was both a great and terrible exposition of college basketball. You always want title games to be close, (don't kid yourself, that last shot was a good look for the situation, and I thought it was going in) but the lead-up to the ending was sluggish. I'll keep my mouth shut since I liked the numerous lead changes, and the game ended up being engaging (Almost missed the end in the bathroom. CBS threw me a change-up in terms of time-out length).
   
   (That was almost the most famous image in sports history)
   
   
3. Watching the game at a bar with a live Bluegrass group is a good idea.
4. When I woke up this morning, I realized one thing: Had Butler won, it would've been one of the most famous victories in American athletic history. But, since Duke won (boooo), no one gives a shit. Butler gets a lame pat on the head, and the entire country (besides Durham, NC and Dickie V's house) moved on before they even had their morning coffee. Shame, that.