Monthly Archives: April 2014

Monday, man.

[Painting by David Imlay]

“Ocean Park 70” by Richard Diebenkorn.

Over at Grantland, Charlie Pierce weighs in on the many problems with Donald Sterling:

But there is one problem that never can be solved. This is because what is a problem for you might not be a problem for the good old boy network of plutocrats that actually own the games into which you pour your devotion and your money. And, even if you decide to stop spending the latter to satisfy the former, it may not really matter. The odds are that, through the largesse of television and the legerdemain of modern accounting, you can’t solve it that way, either. There never has been anything you can do about a bad owner. That one is out of your hands.

Which is where we find ourselves today in the case of Donald Sterling, the alleged racist slumlord owner of the Los Angeles Clippers, who was an alleged racist slumlord, and a confirmed terrible owner, for three decades before audio surfaced of a conversation that was reportedly between him and a woman named V. Stiviano, who appears to have James O’Keefe’d him. (Is there more? Of course there is.)

The league is investigating the audio, but by now, half the world has already weighed in, including the coach of his team, the commissioner of the National Basketball Association, LeBron James, and the president of the United States. All of them agree — as does any advanced carbon-based life form — that if the recording is authentic, the comments show that Sterling is undeniably racist, undeniably revolting, and undeniably rooted in the mind of a man who would have to yield his moral pride of place to algae. There have been a number of calls for the league to strip Sterling of his franchise. This, I confess, makes me more than a little nervous. Taking someone’s assets because of what they think and say, no matter how grotesque it is, sets off all kinds of alarm bells in my First Amendment conscience. The league certainly is within its rights to suspend him, for as long as it wants to suspend him. There were also calls for the Clippers players to make some kind of public statement. Before Sunday’s Game 4 against the Golden State Warriors, they did just that, when they removed their shooting shirts at center court and turned their red warm-ups inside out.

Check out this clever and appealing new book by my cousin, Dinah Fried.

Buzzfeed has a gallery; now, go buy the book.

And then dig this interview with her over at NPR.

To Die For is a favorite.

Cool obit in the Times:

Connie Marrero, a chunky right-hander from Cuba with a windmill delivery and a wicked curveball, was nearly 39 years old when he reached the major leagues with the 1950 Washington Senators.

He went on to become an All-Star in his second season, when he threw a one-hitter against the Philadelphia Athletics, and he won 39 games in five seasons with lackluster Senator teams.

When he died on Wednesday in Havana at 102, two days short of his 103rd birthday, Marrero was the oldest former major leaguer. But his time with the Senators was only one chapter of a long career in which he became a cherished figure in Cuban baseball.

[Photo Credit: Al Fenn/Time Life Pictures via Getty Images]

People.com http://greatideas.people.com/2014/03/31/crazy-baseball-stadium-concession-snacks/

I don’t know about you, but I was getting tired of alternating beat-downs with the other team; teams like the Red Sox and then the Angels beating and then being beaten by football scores, it just makes for bad Feng Shui.  So for the second and third game of this series, the Angels and Yankees agreed to rehearse a couple of taught dramas for the Broadway crowd, hijacking the fricken Rally Monkey with some fancy organ grinding of their own.  And grinding would be an apropos description of what The Notorious Tanaka did during the game; it was strange, yet gratifying how he managed to do his thing for 6-1/3 innings while the Yanks continued to struggle against unheralded pitchers.

Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t bad. In the first inning all his outs were by strikeouts, all swinging; an impressive feat considering whom he was facing.  Sure, Trout continued to show his Professional Hitter side with a first pitch single after the leadoff strikeout, but then Pujols struck out behind him, and following a Howie Kendricks walk, Aybar struck out.  But the Yanks for their part decided to make Garret Richards almost equally intriguing by striking out or otherwise doing practically nothing against him.  Richards, who was averaging five walks per nine innings was giving nothing away to Tanaka, who by the second time through the lineup was now starting to get hit. When he wasn’t getting hit, he was doing something that by now could be considered very odd: he was giving up walks. Seriously, up until tonight he’d only given up two walks in total. The fourth inning was especially troublesome because he loaded the bases after a leadoff double with a HBP and a walk before the Angels pushed a run across with a fielder’s choice. Tanaka was still striking people out, but it seemed different; a lot of pitches and a lot of foul balls added to the feeling that he wasn’t dominating. Nervous business, what with G. Richards looking more like vintage J.R. Richards.

But then we learned something else about Tanaka in the process: he really doesn’t give up.  He must have realized that his other stuff wasn’t working as well as we’ve quickly grown accustomed to, so he did something subtle that I can’t get my finger on, but whatever he did, he was getting outs.  He was still striking batters out, but those seemed like an afterthought to the fact that he was getting batters out at the right time. The defense came to back him up too, turning in routine ground-outs and fly-outs (or at least making them look routine). If he gave up a triple, he struck out the next batter to end the inning. Tanaka’s control was kinda iffy, he threw a lot more in fewer innings, but he somehow got the outs when he needed them. The lineup managed to push across a run with a walk to Teixiera, who came around to score after a Brian Roberts double and a Ichiro ground-out.

Then he gave up a homer to David Freese, the hero of the 2011 St. Louis Cardinals Champeenchip, who was until then mired in an ugly slump with intermittent playing time. The way the Yanks were not hitting at that moment, you may have gotten the sense that this might be the moment Tanaka experiences his first loss in more or less two years.  Yes, it has to happen, but why against Mike Scioscia and the Angels? Ugh.. after Tanaka retired the side, the Yanks failed to score, leaving Tanaka set up for a loss. Perhaps Girardi felt bad and wanted to give Tanaka another chance to win by sending him out for the seventh, but by this time he was already hovering near 100 pitches, so after Collin Cowgill struck out, Joe took him right back out in favor of Adam Warren. Masahiro Tanaka: 6.1 innings, 5 hits (though it seemed like more), 4 walks (hmm…), 2 earned runs (huh…), and 11 strikeouts (how about that), leaving down one run.

Yet, all was apparently not lost and Warren picked up a little magic from somewhere, because after giving up another single to Trout, he got Pujols to ground into a double play and hold the line.  Next thing you know, bang, zoom! Teix hit one out and the score was tied.  Yay Tanaka wasn’t gonna lose! if nothing else, you had to feel good about that. Back in the game, now let’s get some more uhp, fergeddit, fly-outs and a pop-out and no more runs.  But you did get the sense that Richards was returning to norm, so strikeouts could soon turn into striking a hot iron.  Warren, now tasked with holding the line and perhaps getting a win, did his part in retiring the side in order, so the Yanks tried again in the eighth…

Then the funniest thing happened: Scioscia trotted out a reliever. Soon he trotted out another. Then another.  Then another and another… no, not really, but it was bad enough. See, what Scioscia already knew and hoped wouldn’t happen, and what we came to realize was that his bullpen was not very good at holding leads. Not very good at all, which was another oddity with the pitching tonight.  I’m not used to seeing a bad Angels bullpen, so I was surprised when the first reliever Michael Kohn walked Ellsbury , because yunnow, he’s Ellsbury and walking him is like giving up a double.  Kohn might’ve thought the same thing, because he spent more time stepping off and/or throwing to first than he did pitching to Jeter, who eventually struck out. But then he walked Beltran, which made Scioscia nervous and he brought in Nick Morande, who managed to throw the ball to everyone sitting behind home plate except catcher Chris Iannetta (though one was called a passed ball and Iannetta really wasn’t having a good game anyway); first Ellsbury and Beltran moved up, then Ellsbury scored, giving the Yanks the lead.  Brian McCann then gave a nifty solo scene with a HBP that was more by than hit; so convincing that the umps took a whole intermission to review the play and ultimately put him on first. Welp, time to send in the understudy, and that was Kevin Jepsen, who managed to secure a double play from our Soriano with an ug… well, sub-optimal at bat.

That brought us to what was potentially the last act, and the our new divo David The Hamma’ Roberston came to close out the show. Down went Stewart, in keeping with the theme of the night with the ubiquitous strikeout. But Iannetta walked, and his understudy John McDonald replaced him at first. J.B. Shuck managed to jive him over to second, and then… duh-duh-duhhhh our old friend Raul Ibañez came up for Cowgill.  Raul, though his average was quite low, was certainly capable of driving in a run or two as he had done 15 times beforehand.  This was indeed a scary moment, because if you lost him, you had to face the Deadly Duo, starring Mike Trout and Albert Pujols.  Robertson threw and Raul looked at strike one.  Another pitch and it was called a ball??? WTF BLUE!!!  You might also be thinking at this point, “nail him down… please!” The pitch, and Raul fouled it off.  Do it for Warren, he held it down and deserved to win it.  Do it Tanaka, he wasn’t himself tonight or what we’ve already come to expect of him, but dammit he deserved something for it. Do it because you can’t stand the Angels and particularly you can’t stand Mike Scioscia. And do it for the ones who stuck it out this long to see the win.  The Yanks haven’t had a lot of luck with close games like this over the past few years, so yeah… nail it down. The pitch… a half-swing. Did he go?

It wasn’t pretty. It didn’t look right, didn’t feel right, just didn’t seem right. But yunnow what? It tasted like chicken. Yanks win 3-2.

Man, oh man, how I love sweet plantains, aka plátanos maduros.

Alongside chicken, rice, and beans, that there’s some good Bronx style home cookin’ fuh ya.

Jacoby Ellsbury CF
Derek Jeter SS
Carlos Beltran RF
Brian McCann C
Alfonso Soriano DH
Mark Teixeira 1B
Kelly Johnson 3B
Yangervis Solarte 2B
Ichiro Suzuki LF

It’s our man Tanaka with another challenge–the formidable Angels offense.

Never mind the late hour:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo (and recipe) Via: Lil’ Miss]

Almost warm. Late April 2014.

Close game. The Yankee bullpen delivering fine work, particularly from Dellin Betances–who would earn the win. J.R. Murphy drives in 3 runs including the go-ahead run with a solo homer in the fifth.

Ninth inning, Mike Trout on first with one out. Albert Pujols at bat. Two hits already–and one fly out to left which he just missed and was almost a three-run home run. David Robertson on the mound. He gets Pujols to hit a pop fly just beyond the Yankee dugout. Mark Teixeira has it measured. He stops at the fence and leans in to make the catch. Except the two fat bastards in the front row–Yankee fans–get in his way because they are trying to catch the ball. And so nobody catches it.

Beautiful, gentleman.

Trout steals second but then Robertson gets Pujols to fly out to left and strikes out Howie Kendrick on a full count to end the game.

And the two dummies avoid a permanent mark on their record.

Final Score: Yanks 4, Angels 3.

[Photo Credit: Howard Simmons/N.Y. Daily News]

That’d be Vidal Nuno. Wonder if he’s got enough to tame the impressive Angels’ hitters or if this afternoon will be another long one for our boys. Then again, chances are the Yanks are going to score more than 1 run themselves.

Never mind the rain:

Let’s Go Yank-ees.

[Photo Via: Melodrama Queen]

The Yanks creamed the Red Sox on Thursday night in Boston, turned around and took a beatin’ last night in the Bronx to the tune of 13-1. Albert Pujols who looks like his old dominant self hit a gorgeous, long home run as the Angels buried the Yanks early.

[Picture by Bags]

Ellsbury CF

Jeter SS

Beltran RF

Soriano DH

Teixeira 1B

McCann C

Gardner LF

Roberts 2B

Solarte 3B

Our man Hiroki’s on the hill.

Never mind Phat Al and King Trout:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Image Via Stamen Design]

Let’s play two! Welcome again to another round of Where & When. Because the last game was so easy and solved so early, I decided to throw in an extra game today; first time we’ve done that and perhaps not the  last. We’re still out of town, but not far from home, so let’s skip over to this part of town:

Back to our usual throwbacks. The date this picture was taken is the same year the building under construction was completed.  Out of all the buildings you see, three of them still exist. Which ones are they, what were they known as when they were built and what purpose do they currently serve? As a bonus, one of these buildings has a special designation; do you know which and what it is?

There you have it, so if you get a chance, try to figure them all out and you get to brag about the other barrel of root beer you win for being so smart, not to mention the double scoop of ice cream with a cherry on top for the bonus.  The rest of us will have the usual cream soda, but in Big Gulp cups this time.

So, complete answers, show your math and feel free to share memories and facts about the region.  I’m going out tonight, so have fun with everything tonight and hope the Yanks have something left in the tank for the Angels tonight. Peace!

(Oh, I’ll reveal the photo credit after the game is over, because it’s a dead giveaway >;)

Via Cinephilia and Beyond dig this cool Robert Altman gallery.

Oh boy, welcome back to yet another round of Where & When! You may have been thinking, “Where’s Chyll and when is he putting up another interesting post of old buildings that probably don’t exist anymore?” Or maybe not, life is strange.  But I’m sure you’re champing at the bit to solve another mystery with me, so let us not waste time with idle chit-chat:

Ah-ha. We’re taking a little trip; not far, but not so obscure that I have to give you a clue about where or what it is.  This place is rather unique, in fact, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find.  If you can figure out where this place is; i.e. name, who built it and when, then you’ll win a kleig barrel of the finest root beer in the land (if you can imagine what that is).  I’ll throw in a scoop of ice cream if you know the significance of this building as well. The rest of us who follow with answers or stories will have to settle as usual with a cold mug of cream soda, not that it’s such a bad thing (I could drink cold cream soda all day). so, get back to us before the game begins and  lets have fun.

For newcomers who want to try their hands at this, the rules are simple: you can post your answers in the comments, but you must provide a full answer to the questions above in order to get credit; the first person with the correct answers wins first prize and all who come after get an honorary prize.  You may use the internet for research, but you can’t peek at the photo credit (that would be like smearing pine tar all over your neck for everyone on Mars to see).  You may also talk about anything relative to the region you may want to share, like personal memories or trivia about the neighborhood, that kind of stuff. The regulars will help you out if you have any more questions, I’m sure.

Have fun everyone, and I’ll see you back at the game!

[Photo Credit: Joseph Pellombardi]

Cool Cover.

It being Spring Break in our school district, my wife and I took our two younger children to spend the afternoon looking at fossils at the La Brea Tarpits and fine art at the L.A. County Museum of Art. (The oldest was actually in Boston as part of a school trip, but sadly not at Fenway Park.) I had dutifully set the DVR before leaving home, but I was pleasantly relieved when we walked into a hipster burger bar late in the afternoon and saw that the Yanks were already up 4-0 on the Red Sox. It was 7-2 by the time we finished the burgers, so I was relaxed enough to be a good husband and father as we strolled leisurely up and down Larchmont Boulevard, poking our heads in a dress shop here, a gluten-free bakery there. It was a beautiful California evening, made all the more glorious by the beating going on three thousand miles away.

I had seen only bits and pieces of the early scoring between bites of my burger, so I started the game from the first pitch once we got home. The Yankees scored their first run when Alfonso Soriano uncoiled on a Felix Doubront pitch and blasted it deep into right centerfield for a double that drove in Carlos Beltrán with the first run of the game.  Beltrán had reached on an error by shortstop Xander Bogaerts, the first of five Boston errors on the night.

The Yanks picked up three more runs in the second, and again the rally was keyed by some shoddy Boston defense. With Brett Gardner on first, Brian Roberts grounded to Brock Holt at third. Holt fired to second, looking to start a 5-4-3 double play, but Dustin Pedroia took the throw as he came across the bag and dropped it while making the transfer to his throwing hand. Middle infielders have always been given the out on plays like this, but a new rule this season dictates that these transfers must be sound to earn the out at second base, and Pedroia was charged with the error. Instead of having the bases empty with two outs, Doubront faced Yangervis Solarte with no outs and runners on first and second. After the runners moved to second and third on a wild pitch, Solarte rifled a double down the left field line, scoring both. Three batters later he’d score the game’s fourth run on another wild pitch from Doubront. It would be that kind of night for the Bosox.

There was more of the same in the third inning. First, Mark Teixeira hit a pop-up to left field that cleared the Green Monster by about six inches for the first Text Message of the season, but then the Yankees went back to Plan A — putting the ball in play and letting the Red Sox fielders kick it around. With one out, Gardner hit a dribbler just to the right of the mound. Doubront bounced over with plenty of time to make the play, but instead he let it roll through his legs untouched. Gardner stole second without a throw, took third on the next pitch, then scored when Roberts singled on the pitch after that, and it was 6-0. Roberts would eventually steal second and then score two batters later on a Jacoby Ellsbury single to put the Yankees up by seven.

All of that would’ve been plenty for most pitchers, and it was certainly enough for the reinvented C.C. Sabathia. He coasted through the first two innings and only ran into a bit of trouble in the third when the Sox used a walk, two doubles, and a sacrifice fly to put together two runs that did little more than allow Michael Kay to remind us that no lead is safe at Fenway Park. Even though C.C.’s pitch count was slightly elevated, he was still able to use all the pitches in his arsenal to keep the Boston hitters off balance for six innings. He had a wild pitch, and he hit two batters while walking three, but only yielded three hits and tallied eight strikeouts, five of them looking. On a day when the Yankees got official word of Michael Pineda’s ten-game suspension and Ivan Nova’s impending season-ending surgery, Sabathia’s outing was a welcome relief.

But since five-run leads aren’t safe in Fenway Park, the Yankee hitters went to work again in the top of the seventh, and again the Red Sox helped them out. Brian McCann led off by poking a single through the wide-open left side of the shifted infield, and Gardner followed that with a walk. Roberts came up next and grounded a potential double-play ball to third, but Holt fielded it with his knee for Boston’s fifth error, and the bases were loaded. After that it took just six pitches for the Yankees to score five more runs and suck all the drama out of the game. Solarte singled to right to score two, Ellsbury lashed a ground rule double just past the Pesky Pole for another, and Derek Jeter roped a single up the middle to plate two more. Just like that the Yankees were up by ten, 12-2.

The Yanks got a little sloppy themselves after the seventh inning stretch, giving up three runs, but they got one back in the eighth and it was 13-5.

I can’t imagine too many folks were still watching at this point, but if you were one of those who clicked off the set, you missed some pretty good stuff. We heard about how Al Leiter broke his nose in the minor leagues (a line drive off the bat of Roberto Kelly during batting practice) and David Cone’s lament that his favorite Manhattan bar tender is set to retire on Friday night, but then it got even better.

First, outfielder Mike Carp came in to try out his knuckleball in the ninth inning for the Red Sox. It didn’t go well. He walked Teixeira, but when he somehow got McCann to ground into a double play, it looked like he might have something to brag about for a while. But then he walked Garnder. And he walked Roberts. And he walked Solarte. And he walked Ellsbury to force in the Yankees’ thirteenth run. It looked like the inning might never be over, but Kelly Johnson, pinch-hitting for Jeter, popped up to end the carnage.

Ah, but then it got even better. With David Robertson on to pitch for the fist time since returning from the disabled list, I started thinking about how nice it was that the Yankees had taken five of their first seven games against the Sox, and how satisfied Jacoby Ellsbury must have been after his first three games as a Yankee in Fenway Park (5 for 15, 3 doubles, a triple, 5 RBIs). But then I noticed something — directly behind home plate there was a young couple who had clearly just claimed the best seats in the house. They were both on their cell phones, frantically waving at friends through the television screen, until the gentleman asked the lady to stand and got down on bended knee. As Robertson delivered a 1-1 pitch, the guy presented his girl a ring, she accepted his proposal, and the cluster of fans behind them cheered in appreciation. I don’t share this because I’m some kind of hopeless romantic (well, maybe I am), but because I like thinking about this couple and the idea that one day their children will ask them about how they got engaged. The father will have no choice but to say, “I asked your muthah to marry me on a night when the fuckin’ Yanks kicked our ass, 14-5.”

[Photo Credit: Charles Krupa/AP Photo]

C.C. goes. Yanks try to win the series.

Never mind the stickiness:

Let’s Go Yank-ees.

[Picture Via Retrogasm]

Growing up in Southern California, I was always struck by how few Angel fans I came across. A big part of this, of course, was the winning tradition the Dodgers had established, appearing in the World Series in 1974, ’77, and ’78 before winning it in 1981. In recent years the Angels have made inroads with increased on-field success, an ambitious marketing campaign, and a handful of flashy (if misguided) free agent signings. It also doesn’t hurt that the future of their franchise (Mike Trout) is everyone’s Golden Child, while the Dodgers’ phenom (Yasiel Puig) is more of a Problem Child.

Even so, this has always felt like Dodger Territory, and now the New York Times confirms that with the coolest interactive map you’ll ever see. Gleaning info from Facebook, researchers examined baseball team preferences in every zip code in the nation, and the result is fascinating. Two things jump out: one, the famous Munson-Nixon line separating Yankee Universe and Red Sox Nation is a bit farther east into Connecticut than previously thought; and two, there are Yankee and Red Sox fans EVERYWHERE.