After a Tornado, Solace on the Ball Field

 

“I love you to death,” Robert Dale told his children. “If something happens, I’ll see you in heaven.”

Within minutes, the Dales had a clear view of the heavens — from the bathroom, which was spared. The roof was peeled off and the house damaged beyond repair.

No sooner had their heart rates returned to normal than Slade began fielding messages from baseball teammates concerned about his safety. Word was spreading that their school, a deep fly ball’s distance from the Dales’, was wrecked.

Few places were pummeled harder by a gang of tornadoes — at least 178 in 14 states, according to the National Weather Service — than Ringgold, a northwest Georgia town of 2,800.

Eight lives were lost. Two students were storm casualties, one a former football player who had such a big heart, according to Robert Akins, the athletic director and football coach, that he would apologize to an opponent after knocking him down. It was estimated that half of the community’s businesses sustained damage, and at least 75 houses were not salvageable.

After Mother Nature unleashes fury, human nature inspires the targets to resume their routine. For the Ringgold Tigers, that meant jump-starting the pursuit of a state title they were denied in the final a year ago.

Players and parents flocked to the school the next day, eager to rescue the season. Akins could not wait; he drove there in the darkness not long after the storm passed.

“I saw things that broke my heart,” Akins said. When the sun rose, illuminating the scene, “it was worse.”

The high school and the middle school next door were ravaged, the outdoor athletic facilities unplayable. Much of the baseball equipment was a lost cause.

Brent Tucker’s first thought: a season of such promise is over. He coached the team, 21-2 and ranked fifth in Class AAA, that was minus only one senior from last year.

The team began picking up the pieces. Scattered gear and soaked uniforms — the slugger Caleb Jones found his pants hanging in brush — were retrieved amid broken glass, loaded into a truck and distributed to players.

“Looked like a rummage sale,” Tucker said.

His cellphone rang incessantly with offers of bricks, lumber, earth movers, shovels, rakes and helping hands.

“I’m not so sure we wouldn’t have had our stadium already rebuilt,” he said. “People were ready to go to work. It’s almost been overwhelming.”

Fellow coaches cut Ringgold a break by approving the cancellation of its last two regular-season games and waving it through to the tournament. Akins said he and superiors never hesitated accepting: “We want our kids to feel the love the community has. In order to do that, you’ve got to start playing.”

The reward was a “home” game. Akins, inundated by 15 invitations from schools to use their ballparks, chose crosstown Heritage High, which left some still-gracious players asking if a less intense rival were preferable.

On Friday, under a sky so magnificent that it seemed Photoshopped, the Tigers opened a three-game playoff series against Riverwood High with Ringgold banners draped — by the hosts — along the outfield fence. Ringgold’s old English R replaced Heritage’s H in chalk behind home plate.

“It gave you goose bumps,” Tucker said.

Near the baselines, in foul territory, the number 42 was twice inscribed in tribute to the Ringgold supporter and retired baseball coach Bill Womack, who died of cancer in February.

Hanging in the Tigers’ dugout was a tattered and torn American flag that had been ripped by wind off the flagpole at their stadium.

The few hundred fans, nearly all wearing blue “United We Stand” T-shirts, observed a moment of silence.

Friday’s games marked the first event for the school, which is unusable at least until the fall term because the tornadoes struck nine days earlier.

“Who knows? This may be the last chance for these players” while associated with the existing school, said David Kafka, the father of Corey. Both had been at the school, returning bats, 15 minutes before it was hit. “They are fighting in case we can’t rebuild.”

The parents’ appreciation for the season’s resumption was evident in their words and smiles.

 

Republicans Are Pursuing a Wider Field for 2012 Race

“I’m getting letters from all over the damn country, and some of them are pretty moving,” Mr. Daniels said in an interview last week at the Capitol in Indianapolis, where his friends believe he is inching closer to exploring a candidacy. He added, “It can’t help but affect you.”

The first contests of the primary are about eight months away, and most of the candidates have yet to fully open their campaigns. But some party leaders worry that Republicans are making a bad first impression by appearing tentative about their prospects against Mr. Obama and allowing Donald J. Trump to grab headlines in the news vacuum of the race’s early stages.

“The race needs more responsible adults who can actually do the job,” said Fergus Cullen, a former chairman of the New Hampshire Republican Party.

Former Gov. Mike Huckabee of Arkansas, who leads many polls despite taking few steps to organize a campaign, is quietly asking supporters to be patient. And Jon M. Huntsman Jr., a former governor of Utah and a relative moderate in a party that has moved to the right, has just returned from his post as ambassador to China to decide whether to join a campaign-in-waiting built by Republicans who see an opening for him.

The wish list among Republicans is wide and varied. Sarah Palin, a former governor of Alaska, retains a devoted following. But activists also express a longing for others to step off the sidelines, including Gov. Chris Christie of New Jersey, Gov. Rick Perry of Texas and Representative Paul D. Ryan of Wisconsin, the chairman of the Budget Committee.

The first debate of the nominating contest is Thursday on Fox News, and party officials believe that the presidential field will be all but set by June, giving urgency to the call for more candidates.

Parties facing an incumbent president often have trouble establishing the stature of their candidates in the early going. But the challenge for Republicans this time is especially striking given Mr. Obama’s vulnerabilities and the passion of the grass-roots conservative movement that helped propel the party to big gains in Congress and statehouses in 2010.

The party lacks the establishment-anointed candidate that has led it into every presidential cycle for decades. Mitt Romney, a former Massachusetts governor, may come closest to that role, but he has kept a relatively low profile to avoid becoming a target. Newt Gingrich, a former House speaker, is well known but has political and personal liabilities. Newer faces like former Gov. Tim Pawlenty of Minnesota are barely known to most voters.

There is no guarantee that any Republicans on the sidelines would energize the party, but they seem to be getting almost as much attention as those clearly in the race. Reince Priebus, the Republican National Committee chairman, said last week that the race was still unformed and that he expected others to join.

The loudest and most persistent entreaties are directed toward Mr. Daniels, who for two terms as governor has shown that fiscal conservatism and political popularity can go hand in hand.

Mr. Daniels, who says Republicans should be more focused on addressing the country’s fiscal condition, worked in the Reagan administration and as budget director for President George W. Bush. An alumni network of those administrations, ranging from top contributors to field operatives, has elevated a whisper campaign into a forceful effort to enlist him.

The decision last week by another establishment favorite, Gov. Haley Barbour of Mississippi, not to pursue a presidential bid has increased pressure on Mr. Daniels, who drew national attention on Friday for saying he would sign a bill that cuts off Medicaid financing for Planned Parenthood in Indiana. His allies have started mapping out a campaign structure that could be fully in place this month, including a campaign headquarters in downtown Indianapolis.

“What sets Mitch apart from the other candidates who are currently running, he is very, very direct and very open about what needs to be done,” said Al Hubbard, a director of the National Economic Council. “I’m disappointed that the other candidates who are currently talking about running are reluctant to do that.”

The call for new candidates, which was the topic of some conversation here Friday at a Republican dinner, is hardly universal. Some Republicans point to the 1992 Democratic field, initially derided as uninspiring, which produced President Bill Clinton.

But there has been an undercurrent of concern in the party for months. The conservative columnist Charles Krauthammer called the field “split and weak” two weeks ago on Fox News.

Peter Wehner, a former adviser to Mr. Bush, credited a “lack of fizz” in the field so far with letting Mr. Trump gain attention as a potential Republican candidate despite previous contributions to Democrats and even a suggestion for the nation to examine a single-payer health care system.

“At this point, there appears to be a flatness to the field,” said Mr. Wehner, who has been highly critical of Mr. Trump. “There’s a void right now, and even clowns can fill voids.”

In interviews, Republican governors, state party leaders and prominent activists urged the candidates to engage more directly.

“We’ve lost enough time — let’s start talking about the issues that matter to the people of this country,” Gov. Nikki Haley of South Carolina said. “I think they’re all waiting for ‘go time,’ but the people of South Carolina are saying ‘go.’ Let’s start hearing about the issues.”

Mr. Pawlenty, who was among the first in the race, said candidates had plenty of time to excite voters. He said a fierce opposition to Mr. Obama would unify Republicans and strengthen the field, adding, “The faster, the sooner, the more aggressive we can do that, the better.”

As of late last week, it was still unclear how many potential candidates would show up for Thursday’s debate. Mr. Pawlenty, who will attend, was urging more of his potential rivals to join him.

While some Republicans have expressed impatience to get the race started in time to raise ample campaign financing, veterans of races past said the money would flow when the field finally settles.

“Hardly anybody’s declared yet, so who are you going to rally around?” said Fred V. Malek, an investor and longtime Republican fund-raiser, who added that he was not concerned about the slow start. “Contributors are waiting until the field is fully formed.”

Monica Davey contributed reporting from Indianapolis.

 

Venture: The New York Cosmos Want to Take the Field Again

In the back of the gallery, on a riser, a D.J. remixed pop classics like Eddy Grant’s “Electric Avenue” while a grainy film loop of Cosmos triumphs played on a wall. The food could be described as haute stadium — miniature hot dogs topped with sesame pickled-red-cabbage slaw. Propped up around the room were vintage trophies and photos of Pelé, Brazil’s beloved superstar, and Giorgio Chinaglia, Italy’s egomaniacal striker, who together in 1977 helped the squad win one of its five championships in the North American Soccer League.

“We’re very, very privileged that we’ve got the original Cosmos superstar striker here tonight,” Paul Kemsley, an impish 43-year-old Briton in a dark suit, said into a microphone. “Giorgio Chinaglia, here tonight!” The audience cheered as Chinaglia, now a hulking 64-year-old with a hangdog smile, nodded slightly. “We’ve also got the original Cosmos goalie, Shep Messing, here tonight!” More cheers, more nods. Then Kemsley wrapped it up.

“Thanks so much for coming,” he said, turning serious. “We hope you get it. It’s gonna be huge. Support us. The Cosmos are back.”

Hang on -— the team that gave Americans their first taste of soccermania, once packing Giants Stadium with more than 77,000 fans? That rum band of night prowlers with their own table at Studio 54 and Hollywood hangers-on? The franchise that vanished not long after Steve Ross, the head of Warner Communications, decided that pro soccer had no future? Those Cosmos are back?

Certainly the brand is back. Amid all the team memorabilia on display at that February party were plenty of crisp new Cosmos shirts, shorts and warm-ups, part of a recently unveiled line of clothing from Umbro, the English company that co-sponsored the shindig.

But Kemsley’s ambitions far exceed retro sportswear. A former real estate mogul who flamed out spectacularly in England when the recession struck, he is now chairman of the Cosmos, whose rights he bought recently. Since then, the team has been his all-consuming passion; he talks about building a stadium as well as Cosmos-related restaurants and hotels in New York City. He predicts that he and Umbro will sell a fortune’s worth of shirts in Europe and Asia. He has a staff of 16 already (including an executive named Terry Byrne, a close friend and former manager of David Beckham’s). He is touring the world to spread news of a second coming.

“I’m going to Singapore, to a dinner with the president,” Kemsley told me a week before the party. “The whole thing is just sick, do you know what I mean?”

For now, Kemsley is missing just two essentials: players and a league to play in. Players are easy; they can be bought. Breaking into Major League Soccer is trickier. Now in its 16th season, the country’s biggest professional soccer league will soon sell off rights to its 20th team, which Commissioner Don Garber has earmarked for New York City. The hope is to start a local rivalry with the New York Red Bulls, who play in Harrison, N.J.

The winning bidder for the 20th franchise will have to fork over as much as $100 million, Garber says, and have enough left over to build a stadium in the city. As important, prospective owners need to buy into the league’s modus operandi. “We need good owners, good stadiums, good marketing, serious guys who can be serious about the sport,” Garber says. “The Cosmos haven’t lived for 30 years. And unless it’s relaunched the right way, it won’t be successful.”

“Bless Don,” Kemsley said one afternoon not long ago, sounding like one of those charming rogues in a Guy Ritchie film. “I accept it’s not a done deal. But he’s got to give me that franchise.”

The Cosmos were the brainchild of Ahmet and Nesuhi Ertegun, Turkish-born brothers and executives at Atlantic Records, a division of Warner Communications. In 1971, the Cosmos joined the struggling N.A.S.L. and initially played their games in dingy little stadiums. Then Ross, a natural-born impresario, decided in 1975 that what ailed the team could be cured by the biggest celebrity in the sport. So he coaxed Pelé out of retirement and into a Cosmos jersey with a multiyear contract that paid more than $1 million annually. At the time, the highest-paid athlete in baseball, Hank Aaron, earned $200,000 per season.

Pelé was introduced to Manhattan at a media-mobbed 21 Club on June 10, 1975. He was soon followed by the arrivals of Chinaglia and Franz Beckenbauer, a soft-spoken defender who captained West Germany to a World Cup championship in 1974. The Cosmos started drawing huge crowds to Giants Stadium, and during a summer best remembered for a blackout and the Son of Sam murders, the team was a gorgeous diversion. Mick Jagger showed up in the locker room. Liza Minnelli, Grace Jones, Andy Warhol and Bjorn Borg hovered around the team at Studio 54.

But when Pelé departed after the 1977 season, the buzz vanished. When the 1986 World Cup was awarded to Mexico rather than to the United States, the league was doomed. As players, coaches and executives scattered for the exits, nobody except for a former teacher named Peppe Pinton saw much value in anything Cosmos-related.

Pinton, who was Chinaglia’s personal assistant, gathered up what was left of the Cosmos — the gear, the trophies — and loaded it all into a storage facility. For years, he kept the trademark alive by running Cosmos-branded training camps for kids and by suing anyone who tried to exploit the Cosmos name. (By selling T-shirts, for instance.) “I spent $800,000 to $900,000 in legal fees over the years,” says Pinton, now 64 and the owner of a restaurant in Tappan, N.Y. For years, he looked and waited for a buyer who shared his particular fervor.

“I love the man,” Kemsley says, “but he drove me absolutely mad.”