C10 eZ su the washington post.monday, april 6 , 2020
BY ADAM KILGORERobin Harris, executive director
of the Ivy League, started to under-
stand the impact the novel corona-
virus would have on sports before
most anyone. Before fans could
envision March without the NCAA
tournament or spring without
baseball, Harris held conference
calls with Ivy League school presi-
dents and listened to the grim fore-
casts they relayed from medical
experts at t heir universities.
“Before I knew the words ‘flat-
ten the curve,’ ” Harris said last
week, “it is exactly what our presi-
dents were talking about.”
The discussions started
March 9, exactly four weeks before
Monday, when the men’s college
basketball national championship
game would have been played. By
the next afternoon, the Ivy League
had canceled its men’s and wom-
en’s basketball tournaments. It is
difficult to recall now, but at the
time the cancellations represented
a drastic shift. They were the first
high-profile sporting events the
novel coronavirus outbreak
claimed in the United States, and
they began a wave of cancellations.
Harris is now among the many
sports leaders charged with
m aking a decision on the other side
of the crisis. Sports will eventually
return but not soon, and nobody
can know exactly when. Revisiting
the decision provides a fascinating
snapshot of what now feels like a
bygone era and provides insight
into how sports may resurface.
“It’ll be sort of a mirror of what
we did,” Harris said. “We have to
follow the lead of our schools. We
are fortunate... that our schools
have the benefit of having medical
experts, public health experts, in-
fectious disease specialists that we
tap into on each campus and that
are advising them on campus oper-
ations. Of course, government offi-
cials are very much involved more
now.”
How was the Ivy League ahead
of the rest of the American sports
world? Well, for starters, it’s t he Ivy
League — the doctors, scientists
and researchers at those institu-
tions are some of the most ad-
vanced in the world. Location mat-
tered, too. Boston and New York
suffered two of the earliest out-
breaks in the country, which gave
the Ivy League a sense it may have
to alter its tournaments.
“A s the situation changed daily,
if not more often than daily, and as
the situation became worse very
much consistent with what all
these medical experts were pre-
dicting and as our schools were
implementing their own policies
for campuses, that’s what influ-enced our decision about athlet-
ics,” Harris said. “We went from, in
the span of a few days, the presi-
dents trying to come up with a
policy for limited attendance so we
could still have the basketball tour-
naments. That was seriously con-
sidered on Monday morning,
March 9. By Tuesday, we had can-
celed the tournaments. We had
limited attendance for spring
sports. And then Wednesday can-
celed everything. That’s how
quickly things were changing.”
The astonishing acceleration of
the impact of the coronavirus on
American life can be captured in
many ways. One is to recall the
reaction to the Ivy League’s deci-
sion to cancel its basketball tour-
naments.
The conference received imme-
diate backlash that now seems
tragicomically quaint. Penn men’s
coach Steve Donahue called it “the
most horrific thing I’ve dealt with
as a coach.” Players started a peti-
tion to reschedule. At a congressio-
nal hearing the next morning,
A nthony S. Fauci, director of the
National Institute of Allergy and
Infectious Diseases and a member
of the White House coronavirus
task force, was asked whether the
Ivy League had overreacted.
Two weeks later, the Olympics
were postponed.
In the moment, Harris foresaw
some of the disruptions that would
come, but even she did not grasp
the scope. When the Ivy League
canceled its tournaments, she ex-
pected the NCAA tournament
would be played without fans,which in the moment still seemed
like a radical idea. Having listened
to experts’ advice, she decided she
would not travel.
“I did not see things unfolding
as quickly as they did,” Harris said.
“I thought the NCAA tournament
would be held without fans. I could
not foresee a path to a Final Four
with fans. I knew I wasn’t attend-
ing. I had made that decision per-
sonally. I felt it was irresponsible of
me, based on what I knew, to con-
tribute to potential spread. This
was about protecting society as
well as of course student-athletes
and the people who work the
games and the people who attend
the games.”
With spring sports canceled,
Harris’s next major decision will
come in the fall. Even the variables
are unknowable. She said she
hopes social distancing provides
the medical community with
enough time to answer questions
that may allow for fewer restric-
tions. How does immunity to the
coronavirus work? Will there be
advances in drugs that mitigate
sickness or death? Ultimately, Har-
ris said, college administrators can
start thinking about sports only
when campuses reopen to stu-
de nts.
“If we don’t have students in
dorms, if we don’t h ave students on
campus, I don’t see how we would
ever have athletics competition,”
Harris said. “That, to me, seems the
threshold: When do students come
back?
“You have the students back,
let’s say. Does that mean we canreturn to normal athletics compe-
tition with what we expect in terms
of fan attendance, or are we going
to have to have some limitations on
fan attendance?... You kind of
have to peel it back in reverse
order. If we can have the athletic
teams interacting, then can we
have competition? Can we have
travel to allow the competition to
occur? And can we have fans?”
The Ivy League operates with
different priorities than, say, the
“Power Five” f ootball conferences.
But Harris believes — and other
administrators have echoed — the
requirement of students being on
campus will apply across levels.
“It’s hard for me to imagine how
you would bring your student-ath-
letes to campus and have them
interact when you don’t have the
student body there,” Harris said. “If
you don’t have the student body
there, it must be because of some
concern for their well-being as well
as society’s w ell-being.”
The dearth of information about
the ultimate impact of the corona-
virus makes forecasting the return
of sports difficult. For now, Harris
is waiting until the next big deci-
sion — whether the fall will include
college football. The Ivy League
has an advantage in that its season
starts later and only has 10 games.
“I’m an optimist, so I hope so,”
Harris said. “Will it be a full season
for the folks that start Labor Day?
It’s hard to predict that. When you
think about how much our world
has changed, to predict out five
months seems impossible.”
[email protected]Ivy League led the way but is unsure what’s next
Jessica hill/associated press
Yale prevailed at the Ivy League men’s basketball tournament in 201 9 but didn’t get to defend its title.commitment to excellence.
Paxson and Forman have long
given the impression that they
were making it up as they went
along. Ever since Derrick Rose’s
career unraveled because of
repeated knee injuries, the Bulls
have been adrift, lacking
direction and a long-term
centerpiece.
After an acrimonious 2015
split with coach Tom Thibodeau,
who oversaw five straight
playoff trips, they opted for a
more player-friendly voice in
Hoiberg. When he failed to click
with Butler, they chose the
unproven coach over the all-star
wing before ricocheting back to
an old-school taskmaster in
Boylen. In between, the Bulls
detoured with aging stars such
as Dwyane Wade and Rajon
Rondo, who proved to be poor
fits, both basketball-wise and
personality-wise.
The Butler trade was pitched
as a housecleaning, but it has
turned into a painful renovation
instead. LaVine, the centerpiece
of that deal with the Minnesota
Timberwolves, was
underqualified to be a franchise
player; Kris Dunn hasn’t
developed into a reliable two-
way starter at point guard; and
Markkanen has regressed
statistically in his third season.
At present, Chicago has little to
show for the trade — its biggest
move of the past five seasons —
except lost time. Nevertheless,
the Bulls reportedly might
retain Paxson and Forman in
some capacity, a stagnant
philosophical approach given
the franchise’s need for a fresh
start and new ideas.
Whoever takes over the Bulls
will inherit those young pieces
and will, presumably, get to
decide Boylen’s fate. But the
organization’s next leader must
resist the temptation to lean
too heavily on lessons from the
franchise’s past. Although
Jordan and Rose epitomized
the adage that “one player can
change everything,” simply
praying for another savior
won’t be enough to fix this
mess.
[email protected]the bottom five in offensive
efficiency.
Coach Jim Boylen has been
the public face of Chicago’s
struggles since he was installed
in an interim capacity following
Hoiberg’s 2018 dismissal. To put
it more bluntly, he has often
been a punching bag, with Bulls
players chafing at his
demanding practices and
outside observers mocking his
tendency toward motivational
cliches and platitudes. Quickly
granting Boylen an extension in
May, rather than conducting a
wide-ranging coaching search
with higher-profile candidates,
was one of many recent
decisions that raised questions
about the organization’sthree games out of the East’s
basement when the season was
suspended.
Recent draft picks such as
Lauri Markkanen, Wendell
Carter Jr. and Coby White have
flashed moments of hope, and
all three would benefit from the
addition of a proven lead
playmaker. Hamstrung by a sub-
mediocre cast of point guards
since Butler was traded, the
Bulls haven’t been able to
properly utilize Markkanen’s
spacing, Carter’s versatility and
White’s pure scoring ability.
Zach LaVine has emerged over
the past two seasons as an alpha
option, but his individualistic
style hasn’t translated to team
success, with Chicago ranking inpassively slogged through a
multiyear rebuilding process
under executives John Paxson
and Gar Forman.
It has been a demoralizing
run of ineptitude all the same.
The Bulls had virtually no
presence at this year’s All-Star
Weekend in their home city,
given that their roster is full of
unfulfilled promise and
questionable fits. The past year
plus was spent adding veterans
such as former Washington
Wizards Otto Porter Jr. and
To mas Satoransky, as well as
Thaddeus Young, in hopes of
putting a more competitive
product on the court. Ye t
Chicago was eight games out of
the playoff picture and onlyPerhaps the kindest thing
that can be said about the Bulls
is that they have failed more
quietly than the New York
Knicks. Knicks owner James
Dolan has cycled through six
coaches since 2014, while the
Reinsdorfs, Chicago’s owners,
are only on their third.
In New York, tension between
Carmelo Anthony and Mike
D’Antoni led to the coach’s
abrupt midseason resignation,
while a personality clash
between Jimmy Butler and Fred
Hoiberg was resolved with
Butler being traded out of
Chicago. Dolan has raged about
his team’s poor performances
and constantly sought quick
fixes, while the Bulls haveThe Chicago Bulls
will be on the
NBA’s center
stage all month
thanks to ESPN’s
10-part
documentary on Michael
Jordan’s sixth and final
championship season. While
“The Last Dance” s hould deliver
a much-needed hit of nostalgia
to basketball fans during the
NBA’s suspended season, it will
also serve as a reminder of just
how far removed the Bulls are
from those glory days.
Before they can dream of a
new dynasty, the Bulls must first
return to relevance. After years
of mounting fan frustration,
ownership finally took a step in
the right direction, launching a
search for a new lead front-
office executive that will play
out during the novel
coronavirus crisis. The early
crop of candidates includes
Indiana Pacers General
Manager Chad Buchanan,
Denver Nuggets GM Arturas
Karnisovas, Miami Heat vice
president of basketball
operations Adam Simon and
To ronto Raptors GM Bobby
Webster, according to ESPN and
NBC Sports Chicago.
Rather than pay top dollar for
established A-list candidates,
Chicago appears to be seeking a
well-respected up-and-comer
interested in running his own
show.
This era isn’t rock bottom for
the Bulls — that always will be
reserved for the unwatchable
rebuilding years following the
1998 title and Jordan’s exit —
but things have been bad
enough for long enough that it
has become long past time for
major changes. In the 22 years
since Jordan’s departure, the
Bulls have lost more games than
all but six franchises and have
won just five playoff series,
advancing past the conference
semifinals once. Remarkably,
the Bulls have lost more games
in the past three seasons than
they did when they were playing
in front of sparse crowds in
their three-year swoon
preceding Jordan’s 1984 arrival.
Directionless Bulls launch front-o∞ce search as glory days fade further into past
On
the NBA
Ben
Golliver
Nam Y. huh/associated press
Coach Jim Boylen instructed Wendell Carter Jr. of the Chicago Bulls, who have struggled since the Michael Jordan era ended 22 years ago.BY MARK MASKE
AND LES CARPENTERBobby Mitchell, the Pro Foot-
ball Hall of Famer who broke the
Washington Redskins’ color barri-
er as their first African American
player and later served as a scout
and front-office executive during
his more than four decades with
the organization, died Sunday, ac-
cording to the Hall of Fame and
the team.
Mitchell was 84. No cause of
death was disclosed.
“I was extremely saddened to
hear t he news about the p assing of
the great Bobby Mitchell,” Red-
skins owner Daniel Snyder said i n
a statement released by the team.
“Bobby was a Hall of Fame player
and executive and r epresented the
Washington Redskins organiza-
tion with integrity for over 50
years. His passion for the game of
football was unmatched by any-
one I have ever met. Not only was
he one of the most influential
individuals in franchise history,
but he was a lso one of the greatest
men I have ever known. He was a
true class act and will be sorely
missed. Our thoughts and prayers
are with his wife Gwen and the
entire Mitchell family during this
time.”
Mitchell, whose playing career
spanned from 1958 to 1968, was a
four-time Pro Bowl selection in
11 seasons as a halfback with the
Cleveland Browns and as a flanker
with the Redskins. He said in a
2003 interview, when he retired
after 41 seasons in the Redskins
organization, that he wanted t o be
remembered not only as a histori-
cally significant player but as a
great p layer.
“I have to live with people al-
ways talking about me as the first
black player against all my ex-
ploits,” Mitchell said then. “I’ve
always been very upset that peo-
ple always start with that. I don’t
want to hear t hat, and yet I have to
hear i t constantly, a nd it overshad-
ows everything I’ve done in the
game.”
Mitchell was e lected to the Hall
of Fame in 1983. In 2002, he was
named one of the 70 greatest Red-
skins as part of their 7 0th anniver-
sary celebration. At the t ime o f his
retirement from playing for the
Redskins following the 1968 sea-
son, he ranked third in NFL histo-
ry with 14,078 all-purpose yards
and fifth in touchdowns with 92,
including one on a pass that he
threw. He was chosen by the
Browns in the seventh round of
the 1958 draft and was traded to
the Redskins along with Leroy
Jackson for Ernie Davis i n 1962.
“The entire Pro Football Hall of
Fame family mourns the passing
of Bobby Mitchell,” David Baker,
the Hall of Fame’s president, said
in a statement. “The Game lost a
true legend today. Bobby was an
incredible player, a talented exec-
utive and a real gentleman to ev-
eryone with whom he worked or
competed against. His wife Gwen
and their entire family remain in
our thoughts and prayers. The
Hall of Fame will forever keep his
legacy a live t o serve as inspiration
to future generations.”
Mitchell joined the Redskins’
front office in 1969 at the sugges-
tion of Vince Lombardi and even-
tually held the title of assistant
general manager. He said in his
2003 interview that he had as-
pired to be the NFL’s first black
general manager before being
passed over by team owner Ed-
ward Bennett Williams in favor of
Bobby Beathard and by owner
Jack Kent Cooke in favor of Char-
ley Casserly.
“Mr. Cooke was the one I was
upset with because h e never said a
word to me, which showed disre-
spect to me,” Mitchell said then.
“He said Charley was ‘preemi-
nently qualified.’ T his has nothing
to do with Charley. He’s a friend.
All Mr. Cooke h ad t o say to me was,
‘Charley is going to be the general
manager,’ like Mr. Williams said to
me with Bobby Beathard. I’ve al-
ways been crazy about Mr. Cooke.
I still am. I genuinely like the man,
but that was a deep hurt.”
Mitchell said he also was hurt
when former Redskins coach
Steve Spurrier temporarily al-
lowed Mitchell’s jersey No. 49 to
be worn by tight end Leonard
Stephens. Mitchell’s number had
not been officially retired by the
team b ut, before that, had been on
a list of unofficially retired num-
bers that a former equipment
manager refused to hand out.
Spurrier said later that the team
made a mistake and Mitchell’s
number wouldn’t be worn. Even
so, Mitchell said when he retired
that he didn’t leave the Redskins
with bitterness.
“You don’t walk away from 40-
something years and just laugh
about it,” Mitchell said in 2003.
“It’s going to be an emotional
thing, but I’ve always said I’m not
going to walk away f rom this g ame
bitter. I’ve been close, but I was
determined not to let it get to me. I
held up.”
[email protected]
[email protected]Hall of Famer Mitchell,
Redskins star, dies at 84