Dispassionate management makes all the difference in a game ruled by emotion. Front office workers will eventually be replaced by machines, although the technology isn’t there yet. The most capable football android can presently only make decisions on par with those of the Giants. Artificial intelligence is limited to thinking a Duke quarterback will create a glorious future.
Someday, algorithms will be used to judge which puny beings are capable of effectively deploying emotion. We can call it analytics. The human factor must be eliminated, according to famous documentary The Terminator.
The owners’ lack of innate rooting interest explains why the Bills are on a better course than the Sabres. The Pegulas know less, which means they trust people in the business more. Letting football people make decisions is the best decision they’ve made.
Meanwhile, they think they’re hockey people. They’re right, in the sense that any WGR listener with a ten-figure bank account would be astutely figuring how to properly incinerate cash on ice. Jeff Skinner will be expected to score a goal per dollar.
Not whooping from the stands is precisely the sort of self-control seen in good sports owners. Those signing the checks want to win, of course. Even those unwilling to invest properly would claim they were doing their utmost to make it so if pumped with sodium pentathol. Ralph Wilson was honest when he announced pursuing a title was more important than anything – as he counted his dimes.
Successful employers must avoid the temptation of growing infatuated with particular players. Bosses must be ruthless to create a palatable product. Staying cool about a business that inspires zealous devotion is challenging yet crucial. Robots make the best chefs without the distraction of taste, and those of us in the past should heed Bender’s lessons.
It’s hard to can someone who’s received your cheers. Take Terry’s obvious emotional investment in Phil Housley, whom he wanted to be a BFF in addition to coach. The interview where the owner shared fond remembrances of watching a slick defenseman should’ve been about his anger at a coach improperly utilizing defensemen.
His attachment illustrates why fans don’t make great owners. Caring so much makes it hard to run an organization. You might have to fire an underachiever, which is challenging if you have a plaque of him in your rec room.
By contrast, Brandon Beane has been delightfully ruthless in running football operations. There’s no need to keep, say, Marcell Dareus if that particular tackle shows up as infrequently as a SiriusXM talk show host.
The commitment to impartiality is also reflected in the coach. Sean McDermott has no previous connection to the area, and while I hope he likes visiting the Wilcox Mansion, the only important thing is him making football fun for his neighbors.
The general manager better continue to discard anyone who’s no longer useful, which is a universal characteristic of thriving clubs. Do you think the Patriots worry about hurting someone’s feelings? They certainly don’t seem to feel bad about implementing Satan’s will.
It’s okay to copy the evil club’s tactics as long as the locker room features holy water showers. The Bills have spent most of this offseason getting rid of those without value. Sentimentality is for Valentine’s Day.
A manic drive to win paired with heartlessness is the first step to making our dreams a reality. It’s tough for those who wear replica jerseys to embrace roster turnover. But this is a business, after all. We affiliate ourselves with those who create performances we’d call superhuman if we didn’t know they were created by our neighbors.
Sports are naturally vicarious, as the appeal lies in feats almost none of us can accomplish. Athletic accomplishments are even more impressive considering the talent disappears faster than the Swedish Fish in the bag on my desk. Skilled personnel supervisors know just when to cut ties. Watching someone we’ve adulated get tossed like a tube television is brutal, which is why we rely on executives to pull the plug.
Franchises run better without personal attachment. Like the music producer who works on what will sell instead of what he puts on at home, a composed owner enables fans’ rabidity. Killing Eve isn’t the only example of feels clouding professional judgment. Peyton Manning wants a team; would he buy the Sabres?
Too much focus sounds like a good problem to have. But meddlesome supervisors make it tough to complete tasks. Please stop trying to hold my pencil, sir.
The Pegulas are in the the unique position of owning the only games in town. Based on the woeful results of a team the hubby cares about more than anything, we can only hope they don’t become too enamored with football.
We got our billionaire fan willing to burn through his cash in order to bring us a winner. There’s no way to phrase the wish more carefully. Fans need those in charge to care a little less, which will lead to results that make it look like they care more.
Delegating authority means the Pegulas can enjoy sports, especially since it separates them from personnel decisions. Doing the job of someone hired to oversee the roster creates disaster for reasons greater than wasting money. That’s no way to spend a fortune.
Editor’s babble: Hopefully Ralph Krueger will be able to get the Sabres going in the right direction. Thanks, as always, to Anthony Bialy for his contributions to our blog. You can find Anthony on Twitter @AnthonyBialy.