Our good friend Ken Arneson has the last word–okay, many words–at Baseball Toaster. And that’s as it should be. He was the head, and we formed like Voltron around him.
It is a sprawling, ambitious post that is followed by an engaging comments section. If you’ve got the time, I suggest checking it out.
And don’t forget to turn that radio dial.
Milton Parker, the back-of-the-house partner at the Carnegie Deli, passed away yesterday. He was 90. From the New York Times:
According to savethedeli.com, a Web site that celebrates delicatessens nationwide, Mr. Parker’s business card read “Milton Parker, CPM (corned beef and pastrami maven).” Mr. Levine’s card reads “MBD (Married Boss’s Daughter).”
Besides the quality and belly-bulging portions of the Carnegie Deli’s menu items, several other factors brought fame to the restaurant. Dozens of delis dot the streets of the theater district. For years, the Stage Delicatessen — near the Carnegie, on Seventh Avenue — had a superior reputation. But in 1979, Carnegie pastrami was judged better by The New York Times. That touched off what newspaper articles called the Pastrami War. Both establishments fared well, with customers lining up down the block.
“Them?” Mr. Parker said at the time of his rival. “They’re living off our overflow.”
It certainly did not hurt business, five years later, when Mr. Allen’s movie “Broadway Danny Rose” was released, with some scenes shot at the Carnegie.
Kind of makes you hungry, no?
Powered by quite possibly the best 5 minutes ever in “Taxi” …
Here’s the news:
Someone skeptically asked if Cashman was really satisfied with the situation in center field, and he responded that he expected Melky Cabrera to bounce back after a dismal season last year.
“At the same time,” he said, “I’ve got a kid named Brett Gardner that’s hungry and wants that job.”
“He told me he didn’t want to tell any tales or have it be a tell-all book,” Verducci said. “That’s exactly what we told publishers.”
Things got more complicated when Torre left the Yankees, and Torre did tell some tales many believe violated the sanctity of the clubhouse.
Verducci said he warned Torre “people will pull things out of context,” but he dismissed the notion the book crosses any lines.
“I don’t think the book goes into any rooms that were unlit,” Verducci said. “He may illuminate things further, but you think about Alex Rodriguez fitting into the clubhouse; was that a surprise he had trouble?
[My take: Detailing that Kevin Brown was found hiding and curled up in the corner of a room after an awful pitching performance isn’t (almost literally) “going into any rooms that were unlit”?]
There was hardly a shock in the well-written pages, no reason to stop a single press, nothing hotter than PG-13. OK, here’s one thing that might have a shelf life: Expect a bunch of headlines this season playing off the nickname A-Fraud.
A-Rod needs careful handling? David Wells isn’t David Niven? The night Kevin Brown cried? (Who knew the indifferent Brown had tear ducts.) Torre and Brian Cashman were drifting apart? None of that should have surprised even the casual baseball fan.
For some reason, though – maybe because the book was touted as an inside-out look at the Yankees – a few pre-publication leaks suggested the perfect storm. No, sorry, “The Yankee Years” is no tsunami.
If there’s a mystery here, or a complaint from the e-mailers who love to complain, it’s why this book was written in the first place. Why did Torre, who insisted everything that happens in the Bronx stay in the Bronx, decide to break the 11th commandment and violate the sanctity of the clubhouse? Funny, but Torre doesn’t think he was The Great Violator.
