Quilty gives Humpy a hard time…
For what it’s worth I think Peter Sellers’ performance in Lolita is every bit as good as his turn in Dr. Strangeglove.
Quilty gives Humpy a hard time…
For what it’s worth I think Peter Sellers’ performance in Lolita is every bit as good as his turn in Dr. Strangeglove.
I’ve been thinking about great magazine profiles recently, about the golden age of sports writing. I love long-form magazine work, bonus pieces, take-out pieces, whatever you want to call them.
Here is one of the finest, Gay Talese’s Esquire article on Joe DiMaggio, The Silent Season of a Hero (July, 1966):
Joe DiMaggio lives with his widowed sister, Marie, in a tan stone house on a quiet residential street not far from Fisherman’s Wharf. He bought the house almost 30 years ago for his parents, and after their deaths he lived there with Marilyn Monroe. Now it is cared for by Marie, a slim and handsome dark-eyed woman who has an apartment on the second floor, Joe on the third. There are some baseball trophies and plaques in the small room off DiMaggio’s bedroom, and on his dresser are photographs of Marilyn Monroe, and in the living room downstairs is a small painting of her that DiMaggio likes very much; it reveals only her face and shoulders and she is wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat, and there is a soft, sweet smile on her lips, an innocent curiosity about her that is the way he saw her and the way he wanted her to be seen by others – a simple girl, “a warm, big-hearted girl,” he once described her, “that everybody took advantage of.”
The publicity photographs emphasizing her sex appeal often offend him, and a memorable moment for Billy Wilder, who directed her in The Seven-Year Itch, occurred when he spotted DiMaggio in a large crowd of people gathered on Lexington Avenue in New York to watch a scene in which Marilyn, standing over a subway grating to cool herself, had her skirts blown high by a sudden wind blow. “What the hell is going on here?” DiMaggio was overheard to have said in the crowd, and Wilder recalled, “I shall never forget the look of death on Joe’s face.”
He was then 39, she was 27. They had been married in January of that year, 1954, despite disharmony in temperament and time; he was tired of publicity, she was thriving on it; he was intolerant of tardiness, she was always late. During their honeymoon in Tokyo an American general had introduced himself and asked if, as a patriotic gesture, she would visit the troops in Korea. She looked at Joe. “It’s your honeymoon,” he said, shrugging, “go ahead if you want to.”
She appeared on 10 occasions before 100,000 servicemen, and when she returned, she said, “It was so wonderful, Joe. You never heard such cheering.”
“Yes, I have,” he said.
It’s brick cold here in New York this weekend. Curl up with this one if you’ve never read it before. It’s terrific.
Marvin Blain used to get weekends off.
“That was back when times were good,” he explained. “The money flowed and some of it trickled down to me. Now there isn’t much left.”
Blain shines shoes so it has always come in singles anyway.
“I’ve got a regular spot downtown,” he said. “I get a lot of Wall Street types on the way to big meetings. They’re probably the same people who spent all the money and left the rest of us with the bills.”
Blain laughed and then continued:
“They used to be big tippers, but most of them have turned into tightwads. I had a guy try to give me a fifty dollar bill after a shine a few weeks ago. I told him I couldn’t change that and he said, ‘I’ll pay you tomorrow.’ I’m still waiting for it.”
So Blain rides the 2 train from the Bronx into Manhattan on Saturdays and sometimes even on Sundays looking for a little extra cash.
“I work the tourists checking out the Stock Exchange,” Blain said. “I shine for a buck, pop my rag and really give ‘em a show. I’m as smooth as Derek Jeter.”
Blain smiled and tugged on the bill of his Yankees cap.
“That’s a guy whose shoes I’d shine for free,” Blain said. “I’d have Derek’s spikes looking better than new. I’d come to the Stadium and clean ‘em up every day. Then they might let me stay and watch the game without a ticket. That would help until the big tippers come back.”
Hal Steinbrenner told me to warn you there is a deadline to read this news …
The sod is now in waiting, completely planted in October. This week, a bulldozer turned over the infield dirt and a landscaper trimmed the infield grass with an old-fashioned power mower.
Overall, construction is about 90 percent complete, down now to the trim and the finishes. Almost all of the dark blue seats have been installed, save for the lower-deck club seats and the Legend boxes located down the foul lines.
“I think that’s an argument that people are going to have opinions on both sides,” Mussina said. “There’s some nice things that I’ve been able to do. There’s both sides to the argument. My numbers match up well with guys that are in the Hall of Fame, and of course there are guys that have better numbers than mine.
“I think I’ve done as much as I’m capable of doing at the level I want to do it at. If it creates a good argument, then that’s all the better.”
“There’s no question in my mind he’s a Hall of Famer,” Cashman said. “What he’s done in the period of the steroid era, unfortunately, in the American League East — I don’t care what that record is. Some people say 300 wins is an automatic plateau.
“What he did to get 270 total wins, with all those things combined — in a division where the Red Sox and Yankees have been slugging it out … [in] the toughest division in baseball for at least a decade — I just think it has been spectacular for the length and consistency. He’s one of the all-timers.”
“I wonder how much money this man has spent over the years in the name of winning? And here’s the answer: More than $2.3 billion. That’s how much the Boss has plowed into his payroll in his 36 seasons of running this show. Yep, that number was $2.3 billion … Unfortunately, I couldn’t calculate the exact amount, since payroll information isn’t readily available before the dawn of the free-agent era in 1976. But since ’76, the Yankees’ payrolls have totaled $2,323,246,829. And since payrolls before ’76 rarely got much higher than $1 million, it’s safe to assume the final total for The Boss Years will check in somewhere around $2.326 billion. … The Yankees have had the highest payroll in baseball for 10 straight seasons, 12 of the last 13, 17 of the last 25 and, in all, 21 of the 33 seasons in the free-agent era. Only twice in those 33 seasons have the Yankees not ranked in the top five payrolls in the sport — in 1991 (eighth) and ’92 (sixth). Other than those two seasons, there were only three years they ranked lower than second — 1976 (fouth), 1990 (fifth) and 1993 (third). Since the last time the Yankees won a World Series, in 2000, they’ve pumped more than $1.5 billion ($1,529,599,822) into their payrolls in a quest to win again.”