John Thain Ought to Admire UConn’s Jim Calhoun:
Commentary by Scott Soshnick
March 2 (Bloomberg) -- Leaders of the Connecticut General Assembly’s higher education committee want University of Connecticut men’s basketball coach Jim Calhoun reprimanded for his tirade aimed at a journalist who questioned his $1.6 million salary.
Calhoun doesn’t require a rebuke. He needs a refresher course on opposites. Like rich and poor. Clearly, Calhoun, the state’s highest-paid employee, has little regard for the lowest- paid. His response was glib and flippant. Governor Jodi Rell called the episode “embarrassing.”
Calhoun would probably issue apologies if he took the time to chat with the worried fathers at the low end of Connecticut’s wage scale.
He’d find folks like 46-year-old Sherman Owens, a maintenance worker at Housatonic Community College in Bridgeport. According to the state comptroller’s office, Mr. Owens is paid $27,055.26 a year, which explains why he doesn’t have a car.
“It’s a real tight struggle,” the father of three said in a telephone interview.
He’d find 45-year-old Craig Labbie, who is paid $30,062.24 a year by the Department of Veterans Affairs. Turns out Labbie, the father of an 11-year-old, baseball-loving son, works at the Middletown Cemetery Bureau, where he cares for the grounds.
When I reached Labbie on his mobile phone he’d just finished his daily check of the general assembly’s Web site to see if he still has a job.
“Our heads are on the chopping block,” Labbie said. “I’m pretty worried.”
At least Labbie and his co-workers can take solace in knowing that Calhoun worries, too.
‘Not One Dime’
“Not one dime back,” the 66-year-old coach told the reporter during their verbal confrontation after a Feb. 21 game. “I’d like to be able to retire someday. I’m getting tired.”
I’m tired, too. Tired of John Thain, the former Merrill Lynch & Co. chief executive officer, and compensation committees doling out bonuses while on the public dole. Tired of lavish retreats and concerts. Tired of private jets.
Perks bring us right back to Calhoun, who, voice raising, veins popping, admonished his inquisitor and told him to get some facts.
To be fair, Calhoun’s program generates more revenue than it requires. UConn President Michael J. Hogan said in a statement that the coach’s salary represents fair-market value and that his team generates considerable resources for the athletic department.
As Louisville’s Rick Pitino told me, “It’s a business deal and you treat it as such.”
Some Facts
Calhoun wants facts.
OK, try these facts, culled from the pages of his contract, a copy of which was obtained through an open-records request.
The university will pay for Calhoun’s wife, Pat, to accompany him on trips as long as the school president deems it appropriate.
The university will pay a one-time membership fee at a mutually agreed upon country club. Sounds like something Thain would demand. Actually, he’d probably want the company to pick up the bar tab, too.
Calhoun receives a car allowance of, get this, $13,000 a year. That’s some car.
Wait, there’s more.
Calhoun will receive one month’s salary for making either the NCAA or NIT postseason tournament. A bonus for the NIT? Looks like Wall Street and Calhoun both gets bonuses for underperforming.
Still, there’s more.
25 Tickets
The university provides Calhoun with 25 tickets for home, away, conference tournament and postseason men’s basketball games. And the coach has the right to buy an additional 25.
There’s more.
Calhoun gets six tickets in something called the chairback seating area for UConn football games. And he gets four freebies for home women’s basketball games, too.
Here are some more facts that Calhoun won’t find in any contract or National Collegiate Athletic Association manual.
Owens’s fiancee was recently laid off. They never eat out. Between his $1,300 monthly mortgage, utilities and food, the paycheck is spent before it’s cashed. Owens likes to fish. He also likes UConn basketball, even though he’s never seen a game in person. He attends high-school games instead.
“I can’t afford to leave Bridgeport,” he said.
Snow Means Overtime
Owens prays for snow. No, he doesn’t ski. Snow means overtime. And Owens never turns down overtime.
Labbie is a UConn basketball fan, too. He works Saturdays for the overtime.
Labbie is fretting the arrival of baseball season, which means Little League. He doesn’t have the participation fee right now. Oh, and the kid needs a new bat. It costs $150. “I guess it’s going to be the beat-up bat,” Labbie says.
Like Owens, Labbie has never been to a UConn basketball game. Even if he had the money, tickets are hard to get, he said. No wonder, with Calhoun’s allotment.
Wouldn’t it be something if Calhoun used those tickets to entertain the Owens and Labbie families? Let the oh-so-tired Calhoun hear about their day-to-day struggles and re-think his not-a-dime-back answer.
And then, the next morning, Calhoun can join the state’s lowest-paid employees at their places of business. See what their days entail.
“I would agree if it wasn’t just spotlighted on him,” Labbie told me. “It should be a sweeping gesture. Upper echelon paychecks don’t have a clue what working stiffs go through.”
The world needs ditch diggers, all right. For their insight.
(Scott Soshnick is a Bloomberg News columnist. The opinions expressed are his own.)
To contact the writer of this column: Scott Soshnick in New York at ssoshnick@bloomberg.net
Last Updated: March 2, 2009 08:06 EST |
