Being Black in the Big Leagues: Adam Jones - On race, America & why he continues to speak out

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Adam Jones Q&A: On race, America and why he continues to speak out


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Over the weekend, Baltimore Orioles outfielder Adam Jones visited the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City, Missouri, a shrine to the rich history of black baseball in the United States. Jones’ connection with the museum goes back nearly a decade and runs deep enough that he is one of its greatest benefactors.

The $20,000 donation Jones gave the museum was the latest example of him standing behind the things in which he believes. In baseball, perhaps the most buttoned-up of major American professional sports, potential blowback and a clubhouse culture squelch desires to address social issues. Jones, 31, is the exception. He has become the voice for the modern black baseball player. Opinionated and fearless, Jones sees what his baseball forebears did not just for the sport but the United States writ large and recognizes the power of his platform to influence for the better.

In a conversation with Yahoo Sports, Jones addressed his place in baseball today, the ugly incident at Fenway Park in which a fan berated him with a racial slur, Curt Schilling’s belief Jones made up the story, the thoughtfulness of Orioles manager Buck Showalter, how baseball is a white-man’s sport and why he believes three-strikes criminal policies have harmed the game." data-reactid="33" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">In a conversation with Yahoo Sports, Jones addressed his place in baseball today, the ugly incident at Fenway Park in which a fan berated him with a racial slur, Curt Schilling’s belief Jones made up the story, the thoughtfulness of Orioles manager Buck Showalter, how baseball is a white-man’s sport and why he believes three-strikes criminal policies have harmed the game.

Yahoo: You’ve seen when players talk about a subject as sensitive as race that they can be portrayed in a certain way. You still do it. Why?" data-reactid="34" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: You’ve seen when players talk about a subject as sensitive as race that they can be portrayed in a certain way. You still do it. Why?

Jones: I’m not afraid of the backlash, because it’s the truth. It’s my truth through my eyes. We all have our own truths. How we were raised – that’s our truth. Growing up in San Diego, or California in general, it’s a very liberal state. I grew up with blacks, whites, Mexicans, Filipinos. Everything was diverse. My class wasn’t predominately anything. Playing sports, it was diverse. My neighborhood was diverse. The worst thing is when people say, “I don’t see color.” I think that’s the dumbest thing. Unless you’re colorblind, you see color. You may choose not to think of the other things that come with color, but you see color. At the ballpark in San Diego, you see the diversity. LA, Arizona, San Francisco, both Texas teams. You just see so much diversity. Growing up like that, I always assumed the rest of the United States, the rest of the world, was like that.

Fast forward, and I’m playing in Double-A in Arkansas, Little Rock. I’d never been to Little Rock. It was my first incident with racism. Some teammates and I are walking going to get something to eat after a game, and some guy riding a bike just wants to spew some nasty things at us. My teammate at the time – he was from Georgia, and he was older, and he told me to keep walking, because nothing good could come out of it. Me being 19, I was like, “What?” This was not supposed to happen like this. It’s something I’ll never forget. Why would anyone go out of their way to hate on another person?

Life is an education. Over my 10 years in the big leagues, 14 years in pro ball, I’ve learned. Everyone will say, “You’re just an athlete. You make all this money. You shouldn’t complain.” I think that’s the second-dumbest thing people say. It’s not about the money. I make a good amount of money because people pay to see me. It’s like an actor. I’m an entertainer. No more, no less. Once my entertainment value goes down, I’m out of here. I just try to tell people what I see. I’m sorry if you don’t see them. I’m sorry if you’re not aware of the situation. But somebody in the outside world can’t tell me what a 10-year major league vet experiences and sees.

As athletes, we do have to be censored in a certain way, but at the same time, if there’s a big issue, and it’s something you stand for, you’ve got to speak out. Because if you’re worried about the backlash, I think silence is just as bad. I understand that I put myself in a position where even if I do get bad press, I’ve got something to fall back on. I do understand younger players not saying anything. You don’t want to hinder your future in this game. It’s a wonderful game. It’s blessed me and my family so much.

Yahoo: Is that the feeling among younger players? That speaking their minds is dangerous?" data-reactid="39" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: Is that the feeling among younger players? That speaking their minds is dangerous?

Jones: In certain aspects, it can definitely do that. And it sucks. That’s why a lot of people just turn a blind eye. I don’t know. You just see what’s going on in the world. It’s changing. You see how this last election really divided not just the nation but friends. Facebook is the top place where political things were discussed, and you see a lot of unfriending. I don’t really chime in on political stuff because I don’t know what’s going to affect what. If I haven’t educated myself well on a subject, I don’t want to speak forcefully. But the things I do understand I’m going to speak about. First off because I’ve done my homework on it. My wife would kill me if I didn’t. And my mother. I have a good team of people behind me that understand where I stand on things. Sometimes I say it a little brash. I’ll come off as aggressive or like I said it with a chip on my shoulder. But I just want what everyone else wants: a fair shot for everyone.


Yahoo: Do you feel alone speaking out on this among baseball players? In basketball, you’ve got …" data-reactid="45" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: Do you feel alone speaking out on this among baseball players? In basketball, you’ve got …

Jones: … 70 percent black players. Seventy percent black people in football. And 8 percent in baseball. The funny thing is, people will tweet me like, “Do you think Gordon Hayward cares he’s the only white dude in the NBA?” If he wants to speak out on it, he’s more than welcome to speak out on it. But the number of white basketball players at amateur levels is not dwindling.


Yahoo: How many times have you been called a racial slur in Boston?" data-reactid="48" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: How many times have you been called a racial slur in Boston?

Jones: To me, a few. To others? Now, you can’t just single out Boston. That would be a cop-out. You go around the whole nation, and you hear fans get nasty. I don’t know if it has something to do how with how their day went. I understand people’s frustrations after they have a tough day. Could’ve had a tough day at work. Could’ve been fired. Wife could’ve chewed ‘em out. Kids could’ve gotten sick. I’m a fan of baseball, so I understand if you go laugh at a player when he’s 0-for-3 or somebody’s hitting .150 – baseball-related is perfectly suitable. The second you want to start cursing, let alcohol beat you up a little bit, yell profanity, get angry – that’s not the sport. And another thing I think ties into aggression with sports, especially with Twitter, Instagram, social media, is fantasy. I get guys like, “Hey, can you sign this for me?” I sign for them, and they’re like, “Hey, I’ve got you on my fantasy team. Do something.” Like … OK. How do you respond to that?

At the end of the day, when this uniform is off, I try to be a normal person. But I understand it’s a different standard. Whenever we speak out or whenever anything happens to us, it’s all documented. In 2017, everything is going to be news quickly, quickly, quickly. I got so many calls after (Boston). My mom, she’s all upset. I’m her baby boy. She doesn’t want me to have to go through things like that. But I told her, that’s why I had to speak up about it.

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Yahoo: What does it feel like when someone calls you a racial slur?" data-reactid="71" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: What does it feel like when someone calls you a racial slur?

Jones: It feels like they know they can try to get a rise out of you. When I’m in center field, I hear the good, the bad, the ugly from the fans. I hear it. I hear the chatter of the fans. But that catches you off-guard. I’ve heard it all. “Go eff yourself.” “I’m effing your mom this weekend.” When people start to use strong profanity and hate words, you sit there and think, “What is really the issue?” The issue isn’t me. The issue is not me being in center field. There’s a bigger issue. I don’t know what would make someone do that – (especially) at a Major League Baseball game. When you’re at a baseball game, you’re surrounded. And the scarier part is when things are said in the stands, a lot of people around them are mum. I don’t know if they don’t want to get involved with it.

Yahoo: What should fans do?" data-reactid="73" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: What should fans do?

Jones: Stand up. It doesn’t matter what color you are. Stand up for what’s right. You see someone fighting three on one – black, white, anything – the right thing to do is stand up and intervene. Don’t be afraid you’re going to get beat up, too. It’s the same thing here. Be proactive. Don’t be so scared of retaliation. I understand that by speaking out, some people aren’t going to like it. But you know what? The group of big boys, the African-Americans in the game past and present, reached out to me, and there’s no greater feeling that I’ve had. Same from last year when I spoke out about it. I got so many calls, and not just from blacks. From white players, too. One of the big ones is Rick Sutcliffe. He’s one of my biggest supporters. He said to keep speaking up. Because when things are wrong, they’re wrong. Don’t be afraid of backlash. You have to stand up for what you feel is right. Are all my points 100 percent correct all the time? No. But me standing up for an injustice is correct. I’ve got a good platform for it. And at the end of the day, my ownership has my back.

Yahoo: How have the Orioles supported you?" data-reactid="75" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: How have the Orioles supported you?

Jones: I’ve spoken with PGA (Orioles majority owner Peter G. Angelos). I’ve spoken with John Angelos (his son and Orioles executive VP), who I’ve gotten to know really well these last two years. And they are in complete support. If you know our owner’s history, he’s always fought for the little guy, always fought for the unions. Our ownership has definitely had my back. P.R. has met with me multiple times to make sure I’m comfortable with everything around me. And then you’ve got Major League Baseball and the Red Sox. The next day, I met (Red Sox owner) John Henry. I’d only seen him on TV. To meet the owner of the team? The only time you ever meet the owner is when he’s giving you $100 million. For them to step up and intervene and show their appreciation for how I go out and mind my business and play the game and, knock on wood, try to be good for baseball, black, white or indifferent, they were really appreciative of that, and I was appreciative of them coming to me and getting ahead of it. Boston ain’t the only place it happens. We just have to make sure it doesn’t happen anywhere else, and if it does, that people around and security – I guess the infrastructure is set to have the fans ejected.


At this point, Orioles manager Buck Showalter came over to ask Jones if he was going to the Negro Leagues museum on the team bus at 11 a.m. or closer to his scheduled visit at noon. Every year when the Orioles visit Kansas City, Showalter offers his team an opportunity to tour the museum – and makes it mandatory for some of the team’s younger players." data-reactid="78" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">At this point, Orioles manager Buck Showalter came over to ask Jones if he was going to the Negro Leagues museum on the team bus at 11 a.m. or closer to his scheduled visit at noon. Every year when the Orioles visit Kansas City, Showalter offers his team an opportunity to tour the museum – and makes it mandatory for some of the team’s younger players.

Jones: He’s going to make ‘em write book reports, too.

Yahoo: Not many other managers care about history and how it remains so relevant today like he does." data-reactid="80" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: Not many other managers care about history and how it remains so relevant today like he does.

Jones: Look at Buck. From (near) lower Alabama. Went to college at Mississippi State. Now, what we know about the United States in Mississippi and Alabama is blacks ain’t that great. But he’s been my manager for seven years, and he has taught me more about African-American baseball players than the game has taught me. When he first got here, one of the first questions he asked me is have I been to that museum. Of course I’ve been there. He’s proactive on things like that. He doesn’t have to be. He’s got bigger things to worry about than getting up early. He’s got a 6 o’clock game. But he understands the importance of that for white, black, Latin players. That museum – all the museums around baseball – are unbelievable educational tools for anyone. You don’t have to play baseball in there to understand what these people did. They weren’t just baseball players. They were civil rights activists. It was bigger than the game. I’m not trying to be bigger than the game. I just want to make sure everybody has a fair chance. I know a lot of people don’t like to hear this, but African-American history is American history.

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Adam Jones was the unofficial captain of Team USA in the World Baseball Classic. (Getty Images)
Yahoo: Eight weeks ago, you’re wearing USA across your chest in the WBC. You’re not officially the captain, but you might as well have been. You make the play of the tournament. How do you reconcile baseball giving you all this pride in your country and then showing you some of its worst elements?

Jones: Donning USA across the chest was one of the most special moments I’ve had playing baseball because I’m not representing myself anymore. I’m not representing the Orioles or Major League Baseball. I’m representing the United States. I’m representing the people fighting for our freedom. I’m representing freedom and opportunities this great land presented not just to myself but countless other people, other countries, other regions of the world. And then this happens.

I try not to mix the two. (The WBC) was so special and meant so much to us. We banded together. We did something Team USA never has done. We weren’t the favorites, but once we got down to it and started playing good ball, it was unbelievable to be on that team and that field and in that clubhouse with those guys. I’ll never forget it.

Yahoo: Last September, you said: “Baseball is a white man’s sport.” What do you mean by that?

Jones: I don’t mean every person on the field is white. Nah, nah, nah, nah. I’m not saying that. That’s the third-dumbest thing people say. I said that in terms of: Look at the management. Twenty-nine are white. Then you go down: presidents, front office, media. What about basketball? There’s one black owner, Michael Jordan. People making the big-money decisions are not black. Or Hispanic. They’re generally white. In media, the same – and there aren’t a lot of women. Women are in the same boat, too.

I’m not trying to say baseball doesn’t want people to play in the inner cities. It’s that the decisions made in baseball are white-made decisions. They generally have the same ideology. It’s a cash-driven game. At the end of the day, this is about profit. We’re not dumb to that. It’s entertainment. You think at Paramount they’re just making movies to entertain people? No. Of course not. They seize the opportunity to profit. When I said that, I wasn’t saying more blacks should be playing. I already know that’s a problem at the lower levels.

When it comes to a decision, when it comes to transactions, when it comes to contracts, they’re generally made by white people. I get it. They created the infrastructure. Could there be some solutions to it? I think so. I think there are very reputable people, former players, people who went to Harvard and Dartmouth and Yale and the high-end schools major league teams are hiring people from, that are of color. At the end of the day, this game has changed and turned to, “Look at this and tell me what it is.” You don’t have to be white to do that. Making the game more diverse in terms of backgrounds, ideologies, thinking, at a higher level, up to ownership, would be helpful.

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Adam Jones grew up in San Diego watching other black players like Tony Gwynn, Chris Gwynn, Gary Sheffield, Greg Vaughn, and Fred McGriff. (Getty Images)
Yahoo: You’ve been as involved as any major league player when it comes to community-based youth programs. What can MLB do to get young kids – and particularly black kids – back into the game?" data-reactid="129" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: You’ve been as involved as any major league player when it comes to community-based youth programs. What can MLB do to get young kids – and particularly black kids – back into the game?

Jones: It’s bigger than just baseball. And this is what I believe: Baseball always has been a father-son game. You play catch with your dad-type game. The last 30 years, especially in California with the three-strike policy that Reagan and Bush – the three-strike policy in general – there aren’t as many black fathers out there to play catch. The mother is turned into a single mother. She doesn’t have the time, the energy, because she just worked a double. The availability of the parent is not there to play with the kid. The neighborhood is fine, but baseball is generally taught from father to son, even if the dad didn’t play. I just think that with the African-American father not as involved with the life of the kid – that’s way bigger than baseball. It’s real life tying into sports. You want to talk about baseball? To me, these are issues that are baseball.

I’ve always been a curious person to see how people grew up. You ask your teammates, who taught you to play baseball? Most of them will say, “My dad.”

Yahoo: You could have played anything, right? Why baseball?" data-reactid="132" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: You could have played anything, right? Why baseball?

Jones: I think I chose the right sport. I wasn’t as good at basketball and football in high school. Once I turned about 15, I was a lot better. I was athletic enough to play the other sports, but I wasn’t skilled enough.

Yahoo: At what age did you realize that it had become unique to be a black baseball player?" data-reactid="134" style="margin-bottom: 1em;">Yahoo: At what age did you realize that it had become unique to be a black baseball player?

Jones: Not when I was growing up. I was a product of the mid- to late ’90s baseball boom. I grew up watching Tony Gwynn, Chris Gwynn, Gary Sheffield, Greg Vaughn, Fred McGriff – and those were all Padres. In interleague play, I’d get to see (Ken Griffey) Jr. Then you get into pro ball (Seattle drafted Jones with a first-round pick in 2003) and it’s the McLemores.

I always looked at it like I went into it like a horse, just put blinders on. I had an objective. I wanted to be the best I could every single day. And I still have that objective. But now, I don’t have the blinders on anymore.

https://sports.yahoo.com/news/adam-jones-qa-race-america-continues-speak-175451330.html
 
Upton brothers look to reverse trend


By Bomani Jones
Page 2
(Archive | Contact)




Updated: April 12, 2007, 4:44 PM ET

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  • they make up only 9.2 percent.

    The Uptons are aware of the numbers. With the same love he showed his sons on their way to professional baseball careers, Manny "Bossman" Upton continues to share his passion and insight with other young players back home in Cheseapeake, Va., in the hope of re-heating the relationship between blacks and baseball.





    The love of baseball is passed down from father to son, perhaps more than any other sport. When Spike Lee received the Beacon Award at the Civil Rights Game in Memphis two weeks ago, he discussed how his father cultivated his affection for the game.

    Bob Kendrick, the director of marketing of the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City, understands.



    AFTER JACKIE


    "After Jackie" index page

    ESPN Book Club: "Opening Day: The Story of Jackie Robinson's First Season"

    Padres' Young wrote college thesis on Robinson



    "It's the most romanticized game of all the sports. People tend to mark events in their lives with baseball. The late Buck O'Neil once said, 'You never hear anyone saying their daddies took them to their first basketball game.' But you hear it all the time with baseball."

    Manny Upton picked up baseball the same way. Growing up in the Tidewater town of Chesapeake, his father passed the game along to him. All his uncles played baseball.



    He became a very good player. In 32 years of coaching baseball at Great Bridge High School in Chesapeake, Martin Oliver gave starting jobs to only five freshmen. Manny was one of them, before he went on to play college football and baseball at Norfolk State University. Later, he worked as a scout for the Kansas City Royals.

    "I could never remember a kid that had that great work ethic and great attitude," Oliver says from his office at Hickory High School in Chesapeake, where he serves as athletics director. "Bossman always did things the right way."



    pg2_justin_upton_195.jpg

    Jeff Gross/Getty Images

    An infielder in high school, Justin is playing center field in the minors for the Diamondbacks.



    So do his sons. Steve Gedro coached B.J. at Hickory through his sophomore year, when little brother Justin served as the team's manager. Gedro sees how they learned the game's intangibles.

    "Outside the lines, Manny is a laid-back individual," he says. "Inside the lines, he's very competitive."

    Manny made sure to share this outlook with his sons. His father passed away when he was 15, making it imperative that he be active in his sons' lives.

    Yvonne Upton says her sons loved every minute of Manny's attention, and B.J. and Justin loved playing baseball with him.

    "Oh god, I tell everybody that my sons always thought the sun would rise and set with daddy," she says. "I could remember B.J. sitting in the window. He had an internal clock and knew when he'd come home, and he had his glove."

    Justin wasn't far behind.

    "I always made him come and play," B.J. said at his locker in spring training. With a smirk that showed humor and a dash of pride, he says, "Everything he knows, he knows from me."

    Looking back, Justin didn't find much humor in those days. He remembered being on the short end of the sibling rivalry, a feeling little brothers all over can relate to. "He was always a step up, always better. He always beat up on me."

    He did, however, appreciate having his older brother. Though baseball keeps them from seeing each other very often, their relationship is strong. "I did referee a lot of fights," Yvonne says between chuckles. "But that closeness between them is always there."

    They battled like all brothers do, but B.J. served as another in-house role model. Unlike Manny, B.J. was Justin's contemporary, someone he could measure his progress against and aim to surpass. "To have an older brother to try to catch up to just added a little more fire under my butt. That's what drove me to be a great baseball player," Justin said.

    On his way to the Devil Rays, B.J. climbed quickly through the system, reaching the majors in August of 2004 when he was still just 19 years old. Justin was the 2005 national high school player of the year and is widely considered one of the top prospects in baseball.

    But their steps up the baseball ladder haven't been totally smooth. B.J. struggled defensively in the minors, even committing a whopping 53 errors at shortstop in 2005 at Triple-A Durham. Justin hit a serviceable but unspectacular .263 at South Bend.

    B.J.'s struggles in the field left the Devil Rays unsure of where he would play in the big leagues, so he wore several gloves in spring training. Upton was just as confused. When asked in March what position he would play, he shook his head, took a deep breath and said "I don't know" in an exasperated tone.



    pg2_bj_upton_275.jpg

    Nick Laham/Getty Images

    Manny Upton taught his sons the finer points of the game.



    "He's gonna be fine with it," Manny says before mentioning his appreciation for Tampa Bay's attempts to make his son comfortable. "He's happy at second. He'll do whatever it takes to be good."

    Manny is also at ease about Justin, with no concern that being the top pick will burden the 19-year-old.

    "If he proves himself at A ball, he'll move to Double-A. If he doesn't, he doesn't deserve to move," Manny says. "The added pressure isn't being No. 1. The added pressure is from getting better."





    Manny Upton suggests that one of the reasons baseball seems to have lost the interest of the black community is the financial burden demanded of grooming the game's best young players. It takes money to get into the AAU programs that produce many of the top-notch high school players.

    Without the wildly successful AAU summer program the late Towny Townsend founded in Chesapeake, which in recent years has produced first-round picks Michael Cuddyer, John Curtice, David Wright, Ryan Zimmerman, the Uptons would not have gotten so far.

    "The more you play, the better you get," Justin says. "Playing all those games in the summer really helped."

    But the summer games don't come to the players. Players have to get to the games. Parents have to be able to make time and put forth the cash to cover expenses and supplies.

    "We're both working parents. They had to be where they had to be," Yvonne says. "It was a financial sacrifice. There's hotel rooms, food, etc."

    Manny works as a mortgage broker and officiates college basketball. Yvonne worked as a teacher before retiring two years ago. For the Uptons, the sacrifice was manageable.

    Wiley Lee is the varsity baseball coach at Great Bridge High School, where he coached Justin. He believes less fortunate black players are forced by costs to specialize in one sport, and the sport of choice in the black community is usually not baseball.

    "It's a tremendous financial obligation to [play two sports]," he says. "Because of the financial obligations and the travel that you do playing AAU, it's difficult to do two at the same time."



    pg2_upton_sign_275.jpg

    AP Photo/Paul Connors

    The No. 1 overall pick in 2005, Justin signed a $6.1 million contract with Arizona.



    He believes that leads kids away from baseball and toward football and basketball, games that are more prevalent and easier to pick up. That's different than baseball, which leaves those that choose to leave it.

    "After 8, 9, 10 years old, you can't miss a year. After that, the kids are too advanced," Manny says. "I picked up football as a 10th-grader. I don't care how talented you are at baseball. You can't leave."

    The Upton brothers were both talented football players, so they understand the lure of football and basketball. So their concerns about decreasing numbers of blacks in baseball is tempered.

    "I'm not sure it's frustrating," B.J. says. "[Black kids] see guys like Michael Vick [instead of baseball players]. You just try to give them someone to look up to, to catch their eye."

    Says Justin: "It's not so much disappointing. But it's to the point where we've got to pick it up again."

    Wiley Lee and Manny Upton work together to encourage more black kids around Chesapeake to play baseball. Through Great Bridge High School, they provide young black athletes opportunities to play in more games and hold camps each winter, spring and summer. "We try to work with a lot of black kids and show them, not that basketball is bad, but baseball is good," Lee says.

    "We have to somehow keep them involved," Manny says. "The hard part is that winters are tough. We don't have enough indoor facilities where we can keep them here all the time. Our good black athletes are good football and basketball players. We're trying to get them to start playing baseball a little bit more."

    Lee says Manny's dedication is invaluable.

    "He does whatever he can to help," Lee says. "We tell Upton we've got a great kid with good grades, and he comes to help. Even if he's a disciplinary problem, he helps."

    B.J. and Justin also pitch in with funding for the program and help when they can.

    "They come to help the kids," Lee says. "They show their faces and help motivate the kids and show it's not just a check they're willing to donate. They really spend time instructing them."

    That's another example of the Bossman's mark on his kids. As proud as he is, there is one thing Manny Upton's waiting for, the one thing his sons that would please him more than anything.

    "When my boys are on TV, I want them to say, 'Hi, Mom and Dad.'"

    Or maybe even, "Hi, Bossman."
http://www.espn.com/espn/page2/story?page=jones/070412
 
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