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Page S6From§Each · the Sports book2 September 2026

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Angels' new owner praised for championship pedigree, asked next to also win Orange County.

This reporter has covered a lot of ownership transitions in his day, and let this reporter tell you, Stan Kroenke bringing his championship pedigree to the Angels is the kind of move that reminds you why they call this the National Pastime. Kroenke, of course, is the man who brought the Rams back to a Super Bowl title in the 2018 season, a crowning achievement for the city of Los Angeles that this reporter will never forget.

TRUDY: The Rams won Super Bowl LVI, that's the 2021 season, played in February 2022, and they beat the Bengals 23-20. 2018 was the year they lost the Super Bowl to New England, sugar. Different ring entirely.

As this reporter was saying — Kroenke's résumé speaks for itself, and now the Post has gone so far as to publish an open letter urging the man to win not just the World Series, but Orange County too, which this reporter takes as a charming bit of hometown boosterism, a little civic cheerleading dressed up as sports commentary, the kind of thing that gets the whole front office excited.

TRUDY: It's not cheerleading, it's a real estate story wearing a batting helmet. Kroenke's business is land — stadiums, mixed-use development, the whole portfolio — and "win Orange County" is a headline about territory, not RBIs. Worth saying plainly, sugar.

Still, this reporter has seen enough owners come and go to know that pedigree matters, and Kroenke's got it — championships across multiple sports leagues, easily the winningest owner in the game today, a modern-day Connie Mack, a name Angels fans will remember fondly from that franchise's storied 1962 pennant run.

TRUDY: The Angels have exactly one World Series title, in 2002, and no pennant in 1962 or any year like it. Let's keep the history straight before we hand out any more comparisons.

Either way, championship pedigree, Orange County, the whole territory — this reporter likes where this is headed, whatever it turns out to mean for the neighborhood.

The receipts (1)

Sony suspends its announcer over allegations; NFL lets receiver's $150 million payday proceed despite abuse allegations.

Let's run the numbers side by side, hon, because that's the only way this makes sense. Sony Pictures Television is investigating allegations against its 'Wheel of Fortune' announcer, and the action taken, as of this reporting, is a suspension — the man is off the air while the investigation runs. That's Column A. Column B: the Los Angeles Rams' Puka Nacua is facing new abuse allegations, and the action taken, as of this reporting, is that his contract situation, reportedly worth $150 million, continues to proceed on schedule.

Same category of word in both files — allegations. Different number attached to each file. In Column A there's a game-show announcer's salary, which nobody's disclosed publicly but which, by industry standard, does not run into nine figures. In Column B there's a hundred and fifty million dollars, which is the kind of number that shows up on a franchise's salary cap sheet, in the team's marketing materials, and, presumably, in the calculations of everyone with a financial interest in that deal closing on time.

I'm not going to tell you the size of the number caused the difference in the response. I'm going to tell you the size of the number is the only variable that's actually different between the two files, and let the reader do the arithmetic.

What we can reconcile here is the gap. A broadcast company suspended a personality over allegations inside of what appears to be a matter of days. A league and a franchise, facing the same category of allegation, have a payday north of nine figures still on the table, still moving forward, no pause recorded in the file. That's not a scandal, technically. It's a line item. The gap between 'suspended pending investigation' and 'payday proceeds regardless' is a hundred and fifty million dollars, give or take a game-show host's salary, and it turns up, every time we run this particular audit, in whichever column has the bigger number attached. That's not an opinion. That's just what the two files say when you set them next to each other.

The receipts (2)

Rams star faces abuse allegations as Angels owner gets winning press, $150 million payday in play

This reporter has covered many a star, and the Rams' Puka Nacua stands at the intersection of talent and controversy, facing new abuse allegations while his $150 million payday hangs in the balance. Meanwhile, Stan Kroenke, champion of champions and now the new owner of the Angels, receives glowing press for his winning formula, pedigree, and presumably, his checkbook. In the world of sports, a little trouble off the field is nothing new, but the real story is always the contract. The league prints the allegations beside the accolades, the fans pay the ticket price, and the jerseys fly off the shelves. The payday is the headline, the investigation is the footnote. This reporter remembers the greats of 1967—wait, was it 1974? TRUDY: Sugar, it was 2024, and the receipt on Kroenke's deal says $150 million, Angels, not Rams, and abuse allegations are not a footnote, they're a headline. The error isn't the year, it's the price—every dollar comes from your ticket and your kid's jersey. The real story is the ledger, not the press release.

The receipts (1)

New Angels owner Kroenke asked to win the World Series — and Orange County.

This reporter has covered baseball ownership changes going back to the storied campaign of 1974, and rarely has this desk witnessed an acquisition so thoroughly steeped in the pageantry of American commerce as Stan Kroenke's purchase of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, a franchise this reporter recalls fondly backboned by their unforgettable 2009 World Series championship — a title, this reporter should note, secured against the formidable New York Yankees in a seven-game classic for the ages.

TRUDY: Gus, hon, the Angels have won exactly one World Series in the entire history of the organization, and it was 2002, against the San Francisco Giants, not the Yankees, and there was no 2009 title of any kind. Also, per the New York Post's own reporting, Kroenke arrives with 'championship pedigree' already attached to his portfolio — the Rams, the Nuggets, the Avalanche, the Arsenal — which is precisely the point worth sitting with.

This reporter stands corrected, and continues. What impresses this reporter most is the scope of the ambition on display here — the New York Post itself has instructed Mr. Kroenke, in print, to win not merely the World Series but Orange County entire, a directive this reporter finds refreshingly direct for an owner whose other clubs play some three thousand miles removed, and this reporter suspects even the gals following along at home will appreciate a man secure enough in his portfolio to be handed a county as a performance incentive.

TRUDY: Gus. Nobody's handing anybody a county. That's a newspaper column, not a deed, and I'd point out the gals following along at home make up roughly half the sports-viewing audience, per every ratings book this desk has ever cited, so let's leave the chivalry in whatever decade you keep pulling it from.

This reporter yields the point, gracefully, as always. What remains is simply this: one man now owns pieces of professional football, basketball, hockey, soccer, and baseball across two continents, and the newspaper of record for New York has responded to this concentration not with alarm but with a fight song. This reporter, for one, finds that a fitting note on which to close today's report from the booth.

The receipts (1)

Kroenke's championship pedigree touted as Angels owner while Rams star's abuse case leaves $150 million payday untouched.

This reporter has covered ownership transitions before, and let this reporter say plainly: Stan Kroenke's arrival as the new owner of the Los Angeles Angels — Anaheim's ballclub, the pride of Orange County — arrives with the kind of championship pedigree that comes from running back-to-back Super Bowl champions in the Rams.

TRUDY: The Rams won exactly one Super Bowl under Kroenke, in February 2022. Back-to-back would mean two years running — it did not happen, sugar.

Fine — one Super Bowl, this reporter stands corrected, though the pedigree point stands regardless of the arithmetic. What matters here is the pedigree travels with the man, and now that pedigree sits atop a baseball club being told, in print, to win both the World Series and Orange County itself, which this reporter takes as read to mean a doubleheader of civic and athletic conquest.

Meanwhile, over on the gridiron side of the Kroenke portfolio, Angels outfielder Puka Nacua faces new allegations even as his $150 million payday hangs in the balance —

TRUDY: Nacua isn't an Angel. He's a Rams wide receiver, NFL, not the ballclub Kroenke just bought into. Different sport, same owner's letterhead, sugar.

This reporter regrets the crossed wires — box scores get crowded this time of year — but the throughline holds: one owner, two franchises, one contract sitting under a cloud while the press release for the other franchise reads like a coronation. The championship pedigree gets the headline. The allegation and the payday sit in the same paragraph, undisturbed, $150 million still on the table, waiting on a resolution the article does not name a date for.

That's the ballgame, ladies — and gentlemen, this reporter should say, the wives at home following along too, no disrespect intended —

TRUDY: None taken, or rather, plenty taken, but we'll let it go this once.

Two teams, one owner, one word doing a lot of work up top: pedigree. This reporter simply notes it arrived a full paragraph before the allegation did.

The receipts (2)

New Angels owner asked by hometown paper to win the World Series and Orange County.

This reporter has covered a great many ownership transitions in his day, and let this reporter say for the record: Stan Kroenke taking over the Los Angeles Angels is, without exaggeration, the most significant West Coast baseball transaction since the Angels won the World Series in 2015.

TRUDY: Sugar, the Angels won their one and only World Series in 2002, beating the Giants in seven games, and they have not sniffed a pennant since. This reporter's memory is doing some heavy lifting today.

Regardless. Kroenke arrives with what the New York Post rightly calls 'championship pedigree,' having already delivered a Super Bowl to the Rams back in the 2019 season, on top of his ownership stakes across the Nuggets, the Avalanche, and Arsenal Football Club overseas. A four-sport, two-continent portfolio, this reporter would note, for a man who apparently isn't finished shopping.

TRUDY: The Rams won their Super Bowl in February 2022, not 2019, hon — Super Bowl LVI, over the Bengals, at Kroenke's own stadium in Inglewood, a stadium built with roughly $100 million in public infrastructure spending around the site. This reporter's years are off today, though the roster of teams is right.

What this reporter thinks deserves more attention than a batting order is the second Post column running today, which doesn't just ask Kroenke to win a World Series — it asks him to win Orange County. Not a division. A county.

TRUDY: Orange County's population runs about 3.2 million, and that's the number worth sitting with — a hometown paper openly asking a billionaire's next acquisition to be a geographic region, population three million, not a ballclub. That's not a sports story. That's a real estate story wearing a batting helmet, and this reporter, for once today, doesn't have a correction to make about it.

The receipts (1)

U.S. military docks in Thailand for crew break, officials extend boat strike schedule

This reporter notes with some satisfaction the arrival of the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln in Thailand, affording the weary crew a much-needed break. Meanwhile, officials announce the continuation of strikes against narco-terrorist boats through the end of the term. The juxtaposition is instructive: the machinery of war takes a pause only for the crew, never for the schedule. The break is penciled in, but the next strike is already on the calendar. TRUDY: Sugar, the official schedule for boat strikes is public record (see item 21), and the break in Thailand doesn't touch the operational tempo. The ledger keeps the strikes coming, and the only pause is for lunch.

The receipts (1)

NFL stalls Nacua's $150 million deal over abuse allegations; MLB hands Kroenke the Angels anyway.

Let's run the two filings side by side, hon, because the timing lines up too neatly to skip.

Item one: a $150 million contract, top-tier money for a wide receiver, currently listed as pending while abuse allegations are reviewed. No dollar amount has moved yet. The deal sits open, unresolved — the word used in the reporting is 'hangs.'

Item two: a Major League Baseball franchise, the Los Angeles Angels, changes hands to Stan Kroenke, who already holds ownership stakes across the NFL, NBA, NHL, and MLS — four leagues, now a fifth. That transaction did not hang. It closed. The coverage describes it in the past tense: brings, championship pedigree, new owner. Present ownership, not pending review.

Run the numbers against each other and here's the gap: one column contains a specific worker's compensation, frozen mid-process over allegations against him personally. The other column contains a franchise-level asset transfer, completed, to a buyer whose net worth is measured across five leagues now, with no comparable review cited anywhere in the record.

Neither of these is illegal. Nobody's filing says otherwise. What the filing does say is which kind of money moves fast and which kind of money waits. A wide receiver's contract is a line item that can be frozen pending review. A franchise sale is a closing that happens on schedule regardless of what else is in the news that week.

This is not a coincidence of scheduling, it's a structural fact about who owns the review clock. The player doesn't own the clock on his own contract. The owner writing checks to buy a fourth and fifth franchise owns the clock on his own transaction, and that clock does not stop for allegations concerning someone else's contract in a different sport entirely.

So when the money's yours to hand out, the deal closes on time. When the money's owed to you and someone else controls the calendar, it hangs. That's not a scandal, hon. That's just where the gap in the ledger tends to sit, every time.

The receipts (1)

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