Lisa Cupid would have given Tom Wolfe fits.
Otherwise, this whole Braves-to-Cobb thing — this whole teeth-gnashing, sports-franchise-lusting, hyperventilated Betrayal in the ‘Burbs scenario — was just ripe for the stiletto-penned writer. It was he, you will recall, who so infamously skewered the go-go Atlanta of the ’90s in 742 ribald pages.
It almost makes you wish Cupid, the earnest, soft-voiced commissioner from south Cobb, hadn’t gummed up the works by being so all-fired sincere, so downright real and decent, in declining to go along with Tuesday night’s ratification of the Braves-Cobb hook-up.
Up to the moment when Cupid opened her mouth, it would have been all too easy for the master satirist to reduce the whole drama to one big, steaming heap of irony.
You had the other four Cobb commissioners, waxing all judicious and suffering through a whole hour of public comment, along with the phalanx of Braves execs in the front row.
Meanwhile, you had the grizzled black pol from Fulton County, glad-handing in the back of the packed commission chambers and expressing only admiration for way the Cobb Chairman Tim Lee snatched the Braves from Fulton. Which prompted one Cobb booster to note astutely that Fulton and Atlanta “would love to see us stumble.”
And you just knew that somewhere, unseen, Kasim Reed was fuming. Because you had sensed all along that behind his clenched-teeth smiles and it’s-all-good nonchalance, Atlanta’s mayor has got to hate being jilted for these OTP home-wreckers.
Oh, Wolfe would have had a field day with the peanut gallery, the folks who trooped to the microphone to hail the deal as a godsend or excoriate it as the work of the devil.
He would have loved the young, ingratiating black preacher from the megachaurch just off the interstate, making little jokes about how he pastors everyone: the Democrats, who are mad at Republicans; the Republicans, who are mad at Democrats; and even a few tea partiers “who are mad a lot.”
And he would have adored the die-hard stadium opponents in the back of the room, scrawling hand-lettered signs (“Billionaire Care is the next Obamacare”) and uttering dark warnings about the rape of hardworking taxpayers and their constitutional freedoms.
Wolfe would have lingered gleefully over the moment when the one in the flowered kerchief came to the microphone to call the commissioners thieves and animal torturers. If the stadium is built, she declared, “you can almost guarantee that wildlife will be dragged out and clubbed to death” to make way for millionaire athletes.
When the proceedings dragged, the writer in the white linen suit could have nipped across the street to the Earl Smith Strand Theatre, where the Cobb Chamber of Commerce was prepping for the victory party. Plenty to snicker over there, from the Braves swag nestled amongst the Christmas swag to the definitely-not-ready-for-skybox spread of cocktail meatballs, raw veggies and ranch dressing.
But by the time the vote was taken and the party geared up (to the inevitable strains of Queen’s “We are the Champions) Cupid had made her little speech.
It wasn’t just what she said, it was how she said it. The words themselves, Wolfe could have made to work for the character he might have put in her seat: a venal, Al Sharpton-style shakedown artist.
“Gee, fellas,” that character would have said with a leer to the Braves management, “I’d love to go along with you here. But you’re making it hard for me. Cause, see, my people, they’ve gone without for too long, lived on crumbs for too long. So you gotta help me out, here, fellas …”
But instead of Rev. Slick, with his knowing grin, his pomaded hair, his silk suit and his bling, here’s this delicate woman with skin like chocolate mousse and two advanced degrees (law and public administration) from Georgia State, on top of a bachelor’s in mechanical engineering from Georgia Tech.
And she’s talking with a kind of soul-searching openness that seems out of place not only in a politician but in a resident of the 21st century.
With zero irony, she’s talking about how she struggled with this decision, struggled with the idea that her constituents might be better off if she guaranteed herself a seat at the table by voting yes, but just can’t do it because she thinks the deal was done way too fast.
And when she discloses that she’s gotten threats over the issue, and when she declares, “I will not be bullied,” there’s no bravado, just quiet conviction. And it’s all so affecting that, after the 4-1 vote, one of the Braves honchos walks up to her and puts his arm around her and, holy taco, he looks just as moved as everyone else in the room.
Yep, Lisa Cupid would have given Tom Wolfe fits.
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