A creative way to solve baseball's unprecedented cheating scandal

The Houston Astros cheating scandal in baseball is unprecedented – and calls for unprecedented punishment.

If you don't know about the scandal, it's a doozy: Baseball Commissioner Rob Manfred early this winter confirmed long-held suspicions that the Astros used technology to steal signs from opposing catchers to pitchers in order to give their hitters an advantage during the 2017 and 2018 seasons. The technology was reasonably high-tech (hidden cameras, spreadsheets), the communication was primitive (banging on garbage cans with a bat to signal that an off-speed pitch was coming). The big problem? The Astros won the World Series in 2017, one of the years baseball says they cheated.

The Astros cheated and won the World Series. Who do they think they are, Lance Armstrong?

The 2017 cheating-championship combination brought a torrent of criticism and worse, including opposing pitchers threatening to throw at Houston hitters this year.

Manfred suspended the team's manager and general manager, who were both subsequently fired. Two other managers affiliated with the scandal also lost their jobs. But that was it.

No players were punished, the World Series trophy stayed in Houston and anger against the Astros multiplied after the team owner and players downplayed the impact of their duplicity.

There is more anger toward the Astros than against any team in any sport during my lifetime – and the Astros players largely escaped punishment, although their championship is tainted and the players now have this as part of their legacy.

Despite inaction, this is the time to institute specific punishment. Manfred figures he can't take away the World Series title (although he could–just declare it vacant for 2017. However, there's no way he can award the title to the team the Astros beat, because that's the Dodgers), but he can do something.

The best way to punish the Astros? Do to them what they did to the rest of baseball in 2017 (and maybe 2018 and maybe 2019 and maybe 2020): Put them at a disadvantage. And embarrass them.

Here's how to punish the Astros and make the 2020 baseball season more fun:

• Require the Astros to put quotation marks around any words that refer to excellence in their 2017 season. (Such as: When the Astros "won" the 2017 World Series "title," it was the first "championship" in franchise history.)
• Make the Astros choose between giving their opponents and extra out each inning or losing an offensive out each inning. It's their choice: Nine innings of batting with only two outs per inning or nine innings of pitching to a team that gets four outs per inning.
• Allow the opponents to pick out five bats for each game that the Astros must use. Maybe a kids' bat. Maybe a fungo bat, used to hit fly balls. Maybe a wiffle-ball bat. Maybe a broomstick. The game is regular, just a slight adjustment in their odds to win. Like in 2017.
• Force Astros pitchers to declare what pitch they will throw ahead of time. Let those pitchers determine whether it is a distinct advantage for the hitter to know what's coming.
• Force the players to live in Houston for nine months per year. No, wait. They already do.

Baseball has a terrible scandal. The best way to get past it is for a public punishment that gives the Astros a chance to win, but dramatically swings the odds.

You know, like the Astros did in 2017 and 2018.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Approaching our upcoming cruise without fear

In a few weeks, Mrs. Brad and I will depart from Long Beach on a one-week cruise to Mexico.

Everyone acts like we're crazy, because of the coronavirus.

The coronavirus has not only terrified anyone who has seen "Outbreak," it famously stranded hundreds of cruise ship passengers in Japan, with dozens and dozens of people contracting the virus and the Japanese government refusing to let people come ashore. Another cruise ship – despite reporting zero cases of coronavirus – went from port to port in Asia before being accepted in Cambodia.

For the cruise ship world, this is no carnival.

Get it? Carnival?

Anyway, our friends think  people on cruise ships risk being stranded like "Gilligan's Island." Except on a boat. And with the ability to see other people. And no hammocks, I presume. But otherwise, like Gilligan's Island. Oh, probably no Mr. and Mrs. Howell, either. But still, it's risky.

Nearly everyone who knows we're planning this vacation shudders at our plans.

Our friends have forgotten that there are plenty of other reasons to fear a cruise ship, including regular outbreaks of norovirus (Wait. That just made it seem worse).

We've gone on two previous cruises. Other than a few experiences with seasickness – one night hugging the toilet, another day getting queasy while on an outing on choppy water – our cruises have been surprisingly fun. I didn't expect that. I thought I wouldn't  like the cheesy entertainment and food. I thought I would see the same people over. I thought I'd get stir crazy. I expected to tolerate, but not enjoy, a cruise.

However, we enjoyed our cruises enough that we're going again.

I don't think we'll get sick. I think we'll have fun. I think we'll enjoy the cheesy entertainment. And here's three other things that I think – or know – will happen.

• At some point, Mrs. Brad and I will be near the front of the ship and one of us will do the "king of the world" scene from "Titanic," with arms outstretched, leaning forward. (It's far, far, far more likely that it will be me).
• At some point, I'll turn to Mrs. Brad and shout out a line from "The Poseidon Adventure": "You have to go down to go up! The ship is upside down!" Even though the ship will hopefully be right-side up. (Note: That may not be an accurate quote from the script.)
• I will at some point call it a "Pablo Cruise," referencing a band that was last popular 45 years ago.
• I will at some point highlight absurdity of people fearing the coronavirus. Then I'll feel slightly sick – and wonder if I jinxed myself.

Ultimately, fear won't stop us from having fun. We saved up for this and want to go. We want to relax on the sunny decks, eat when we want and watch a second-rate comedian make us laugh.

Mrs. Brad and I are not afraid of the coronavirus and will remain unafraid until the inevitable day when I feel slightly sick and panic. But then I'll shout, "You have to go down to go up! The ship is upside down!" at Mrs. Brad.

Everything will be fine.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

I want to send Hallmark a card about grief, but can't find one

I want to send a greeting card to Hallmark. Perhaps one that says, "May the memories of those we've lost continue to shine brightly," with a photo of a closed Hallmark store behind it.

This is a conundrum: Two leading greeting card companies are making major cuts, which makes it difficult to find the appropriate greeting card to send them. It's like trying to send a telegram to announce that it's hard to send telegrams.

Perhaps I'll send something that says, "Grief lives where love lived first," written over the top of a bunch of greeting cards.

Here's what's happening: Hallmark Cards Inc. is changing the way it's doing business, a detail revealed by the Wall Street Journal just days before one of the biggest greeting card days of the year, Valentine's Day. (Valentine's Day is Friday! So start looking now for that box of chocolates or box of conversation hearts or start preparing that social media post about how you hate Valentine's Day.)

The WSJ article was prompted by the announcement that Schurman Fine Papers, which operates Papyrus retail stores and other entities, declared bankruptcy. American Greetings Corp., the owner of the Papyrus brand, will continue to sell cards in stores all across America. Just not Papyrus stores. They are going away, thanks to a lack of demand.

The greeting card slump is another victim of technology. Instead of sending cards, we now send texts. Often with emojis, allowing us to communicate in a similar way to cavemen: A picture of a word!

Or we post our greetings on social media. Facebook users see this every year when people post on their wall to celebrate their birthday. If you have Facebook, consider this: How many people post for your birthday? How many give you cards?

The result is a 13 percent drop in greeting card sales in the U.S. over the past five years. The plunge would be worse if not for the dramatic increase in the cost of purchasing cards–it's a drop in money, not number of cards.

Anyone who's purchased a greeting card in the past decade knows the drill.  You get the card, go to the check stand and then are told that it cost $7.99. For a card that's neither unique nor clever.

The result of the technology revolution is a slide for the greeting card companies, including Hallmark (which is owned by the Hall family–who knew? They founded the company 110 years ago and the company now also runs the Hallmark Channel and Crayola, the crayon maker).

The WSJ article  said Hallmark will continue to have stores, but will also bulk up its online offerings, including through the Hallmark app. Hallmark has also opened branches in such places as hardware stores ("Sorry you got hammered") and hospitals ("Congratulations on surviving your surgery").

As we see the decline of an American giant and as we approach another Valentine's Day, let's give Hallmark, Papyrus and other greeting card companies a boost: let's buy some cards.

If nothing else, you can follow my practice while my sons were growing up by getting a child a profane greeting card for their birthday (despite the fact that they rarely heard me utter even mild cuss words). It was funny every year!

If you don't want to buy a Valentine's Day card or a profane birthday card to give to a 6-year-old, consider getting one for Hallmark.

Maybe one that says, "Those we love stay forever in our hearts," with a picture of someone in a hardware store buying a birthday card.

Or maybe just text them the same thing.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

Giving you plenty of reasons to dislike Kansas City

It's hard to hate Kansas City.

That's a problem for San Francisco 49ers fans today as their team prepares to meet the Kansas City Chiefs in Super Bowl LIV, in Miami. Because hatred is crucial in sports.

Sports fans are most comfortable when there's something to really dislike about the opponent. Sometimes, it's an opposing player (LeBron James is a prima donna! Tom Brady is a cheater! Bryce Harper is a pretty boy!), sometimes it's a history of a franchise (The Dodgers are too Hollywood! The Cowboys think they're "America's Team!" The Celtics are on TV too much!), sometimes it's the town (Miami fans are front-runners! New York fans think they live in the center of the universe! Utah Jazz fans live in Salt Lake City!).

We want something to root against a team as much as we want to support one.

It's hard to hate Kansas City.

The Chiefs biggest star is quarterback Patrick Mahomes, who is likable and fun to watch. The franchise is historically good, but hasn't won a championship in 50 years. Kansas City is perhaps America's most neutral big city (what do you think of when  you think of Kansas City: That big arch? It's in St. Louis).

There's not much to hate.

Perhaps 49ers fans could borrow some passion from Oakland Raiders fans, who consider Kansas City one of three cities (the other two being Denver and San Diego/Los Angeles) worthy of disdain, due to longtime rivalries. (Of course, they equally hate the 49ers, which means today is their worst nightmare.)

What should a self-respecting 49ers fan do today? Support the 49ers, of course, but what other fuel is there? Well, I have five things to motivate you. Here are five things to dislike about Kansas City.

5.  Kansas City is the old fling. OK, so this is a reach, but bear with me. The NBA's Cincinnati Royals moved to Kansas City and became the Kings in 1972, but lasted just 13 years before finally moving to Sacramento. If you like the Sacramento Kings, then Kansas City is your team's former boyfriend (or girlfriend). You shouldn't like Kansas City. The city treated your team poorly.

4. Kansas City is the new fling. The history of 49ers quarterbacks going to Kansas City is substantial. Joe Montana, Steve Bono and Alex Smith all turned to the Chiefs for comfort after the 49ers rejected them (this is a parallel to the Kings situation, but in reverse.

The list also includes Steve DeBerg and Elvis Grbac, by the way). Kansas City is the new boyfriend. Kansas City races in to get our former flames while they're on the rebound. Pathetic.

3. Needless confusion. Kansas City, Kansas, has nearly 150,000 residents. Kansas City, Missouri, has nearly 500,000 people and is east of Kansas City, Kansas. Seriously. Two cities with the same name next to each other. The Chiefs play in Missouri. It's Kansas City, but it's in Missouri. That's like having a Nevada City in California! (Tries to delete that last statement after remembering there is a Nevada City).

2. The dumb tomahawk chop. Remember the Atlanta Braves' tomahawk chop? Well, they do it in Kansas City, too. Enough said.

1. The Chiefs are from there. They are the 49ers opponent in the Super Bowl! They are the Raiders' rival! Of course you don't like Kansas City!

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.