You Owe Starbucks a Debt of Gratitude

Recently, the Starbucks chain of coffee shops announced a series of store closures, indicating an economic retrenchment after many years of rapid growth. In some circles, this stumbling on Starbucks’ part has been met with cheers of satisfaction, as if a hated style of music had fallen on hard times.

One of the phenomena of our popular culture that has amused me over the last ten years or so is the almost religious hatred that some people have for Starbucks. Unwittingly turning the power of successful branding on its head, these people take it upon themselves as a badge of honor to reject Starbucks as a kind of self-awarded validation of their middle-class rootedness.  Even some very wealthy people do this. Think Mike Barnicle, for example.

They embrace, say, Dunkin’ Donuts as their coffee source of choice as if to say, “I’m a regular guy, ’cause I hate Starbucks”. But in fact, coffee costs pretty much the same at either shop. So it’s not an economic issue.

So go on with your smug, self-satisfied rejection of Starbucks. Because that has everything to do with your self-image; reject the comfy furniture, the calming wood interiors, the soft lighting, the idiotic substitution of foreign-sounding words for “small, medium or large”, or the availability of wi-fi so that a pretentious doofus can sit at a table for a few hours with their laptop pretending to workfor whatever reason.

The irony is, that no matter where you do enjoy getting your coffee from, that coffee is better because of the existence of Starbucks. In fact, Starbucks is the one core reason why good coffee is available nearly everywhere nowadays. But not too long ago, that was not the case.

Fifteen or more years ago, Dunkin’ Donuts, along with virtually every other place that served coffee, did so from one of those “Bunn-O-Matic” hot plate-heated glass carafes, using some crappy generic ground coffee obtained through a food distributor who probably also provided the napkins and the Sweet-n-Lo.  That coffee was made by some disinterested person opening up the store in the morning, and it sat there until it was gone and someone had to make more. Or, if the place wasn’t busy, it would sit there on the burner and get burnt. Or, perhaps someone put in too much water and you drank hot brown water.

I often hear how people who claim to hate Starbucks do so because they don’t like the coffee. “It tastes burnt”.  “It’s bitter”.  However I’ve found that many of those same people don’t drink their coffee black. Of course, that’s a matter of taste, but if you’re one of those people who dumps three sugars and half a cup of milk into their coffee, then your opinion really doesn’t matter. Because you don’t really care what real coffee tastes like. Or smells like.

But for those who actually like the smell and taste of good coffee, say a big “thank you” to the fact that Starbucks exists. Because they raised the bar for everyone. Before, you couldn’t find a dependably good cup of coffee anywhere. Now, local coffee shops thrive in virtually every town, because people now know what good coffee tastes like, and they demand it. McDonalds has great coffee now because of Starbucks. And yes, Dunkin’ Donuts has great coffee because of Starbucks.

For what it’s worth, I like Starbucks. And Dunkin’ Donuts. And McDonalds. And I’m glad I can get a really good cup of coffee at any of them. But I also know why that is.

And now, so do you.

The Great Escape (2008)

Well it didn’t have Steve McQueen, James Garner or Richard Attenborough, but in many other aspects Fulham managed to pull off a Great Escape similar to that of the famous 1963 WWII classic.

An international crew consisting of British and Americans (with a smattering of other cultures) tunneled their way out of the prospect of imprisonment in the League Championship (read: Division 2) with some late-season heroics.

Three consecutive away victories, where previously there had been none, were capped with a final, last-game triumph over Portsmouth.

Fulham, whom I sometimes like to refer to as Team America World Police, features several Americans including veteran keeper Casey Keller, former NE Revolution star Clint Dempsey, and long-time international standouts Brian McBride and Carlos Bocanegra.

I don’t know if Fulham have a ‘theme song’, the way Liverpool have “You’ll Never Walk Alone”, but I can’t help but think that the famous Elmer Bernstein theme from the Great Escape could be the ad-hoc theme for the coming season.

A good outcome for both American soccer fans as well as those who admire Fulham as a London-based club retaining some of the characteristic charm of English football despite the overwhelming influence of huge money on the game.

 

A Dedication for the Patriots’ Season

(As the New England Patriots prepare to play their final regular season game, with an undefeated record thus far, the game is scheduled to be simulcast on three networks for the first time since Super Bowl I.)

Nowadays, it’s hard to find someone in this area who is not a Patriots fan. Everyone loves a winner, and we’ve come to expect the Patriots to not only win, but dominate their opponents.

But it was not always thus.  

In 1960, my father bought two season tickets to the Boston franchise of the new American Football League. It was the first time professional football would be played in Boston, and he wanted to be a part of it. In 1964, I was finally old enough to join him at the game. One of my earliest memories was sitting in temporary stands, in a snowstorm, watching the Patriots play the San Diego Chargers. I distinctly remember looking down between my feet behind me and seeing the Green Monster of Fenway Park.

He typically took me to six of the seven available home games each season. My sister got one, to be ‘fair’. I think she chose to see the Jets because Joe Namath was ‘cute’. I wonder if she thinks that now. She probably doesn’t know anything about the “Kiss me, Suzy Kolber” incident either, which is just as well for all concerned. But I digress.

Over the next seven years or so,  my father and I drove into Boston to ‘home’ games at several stadia, including Boston College, Boston University, and Harvard Stadium. There was always a feeling of being a refugee, or second class citizen, and the Patriots’ performance typically bore that out. They were largely horrible teams then, and we were pleased when they were competitive, let alone if they actually won. All the other teams seemed to have ‘real’ stadia, and ‘real’ teams.

Finally, in 1971, the Patriots got their own stadium, in Foxboro. I had never heard of Foxboro, let alone been there. Since it was quite a distance from our home (we lived north of Boston), many of the local Patriots fans chipped in and hired a bus to take us to and from the games. I still have the ‘evidence’ that I attended the first regular season game at Schaefer Stadium (named after a mediocre local beer), consisting of an “I was there” wallet card and a simulated gold coin. I actually have quite a few of those gold coins. There was a great feeling of hope and change, as the team was renamed the “New England” Patriots, and they actually beat the dreaded Oakland Raiders in that first “real” home game. But they were still not a great team by any stretch.

In 1974, I think it was, they actually opened the season by winning their first five or six games! It was incredible. The Patriots actually got shown on the NFL Films “Game of the Week”; a national pedestal which had, to date, ignored them as the cellar-dwelling hapless Patsies they had been. They were finally a “real” NFL team! The euphoria was short-lived, however, as they lost six of their remaining eight games and finished 8 and 8. Still, a successful season by Patriots standards.

From there, I got my license and my father and I started to take turns driving. Then I went off to college and only made one game a year. I don’t know who my father took with him, but he still went to all the games. The team improved somewhat and was more competitive in those years, but save for the famous ”roughing the passer” call in a playoff against Oakland, still never really contended. After my graduation, they got worse again. My dad had moved further north and finally had to cut back on his game attendance, so I usually had the tickets. Oftentimes, I couldn’t even give them away if neither of us could attend for some reason. The Pats had one miracle season in ‘85-’86, but got trounced in the Super Bowl by Chicago. Right after that, they had a drug use scandal and the team tumbled back into relative mediocrity. We still attended most every game though.

Finally, in the early 90s, I had my first child, and my dad and I decided to give up the tickets. The stadium was less fun to visit – our seating section, right on the 50 (the 46 to be precise), had gone from the same congenial regulars every week to a random selection of drunks, and it was almost perilous to attend.

Soon after, the stadium and then the team was bought by the Kraft family, and the rest is history. They changed uniforms, cleaned up the stadium, and became contenders within a couple of seasons.

My father, who instilled in me a love for football and the Patriots in particular, passed away before his time, in 1998. Most of the over 150 games we attended together were losses. He saw the Patriots make the Super Bowl twice, and get defeated soundly both times. He never saw the Red Sox win the World Series in his lifetime.

Since then, the Patriots have become the dominant team in the NFL, winning three Super Bowls and likely on their way to a fourth. If they do, they will have won 19 games without a defeat. If I could, I would officially dedicate this season to my father, who as much as anyone alive, deserved to see this amazing achievement.

These are your new grandchildren. As you can see, they’re going to be Pats fans too.

Thanks, Dad.