The other day, a person with nothing better to do than disturb manure posted some easy-for-Twitter garbage on Ron Fowler, calling him an “embarrassment.” On the contrary. I think he’s becoming a 72-year-old rock star, singing out front of the band, crooning what he believes, not necessarily what you want to hear.
Fowler is the Padres’ executive chairman, and I find it fascinating how we view owners. We bitch when they don’t say anything and bitch when they do. And why shouldn’t they? They’re owners, for heaven’s sake.
“People push buttons, and they don’t expect us to push back,” he tells me.