Blog Archives

Relieve that pressure:

[Photo Credit: Robert Longo]

Head on over to River Ave. Blues for all the latest on tonight’s draft.

[Photo Via: Smiles and Pretenses]

Hell Yeah.

Just a quick reminder that I’ll be talking Yankees tonight in Tarrytown with Rob Fleder.

[Photo Via: Dead Serious]

From Buzzfeed via Hardball Talk…

Here’s Charles Simic in the New York Review of Books on “Why I Still Write Poetry”:

When my mother was very old and in a nursing home, she surprised me one day toward the end of her life by asking me if I still wrote poetry. When I blurted out that I still do, she stared at me with incomprehension. I had to repeat what I said, till she sighed and shook her head, probably thinking to herself this son of mine has always been a little nuts. Now that I’m in my seventies, I’m asked that question now and then by people who don’t know me well. Many of them, I suspect, hope to hear me say that I’ve come my senses and given up that foolish passion of my youth and are visibly surprised to hear me confess that I haven’t yet. They seem to think there is something downright unwholesome and even shocking about it, as if I were dating a high school girl, at my age, and going with her roller-skating that night.

…The mystery to me is that I continued writing poetry long after there was any need for that. My early poems were embarrassingly bad, and the ones that came right after, not much better. I have known in my life a number of young poets with immense talent who gave up poetry even after being told they were geniuses. No one ever made that mistake with me, and yet I kept going. I now regret destroying my early poems, because I no longer remember whom they were modeled after. At the time I wrote them, I was reading mostly fiction and had little knowledge of contemporary poetry and modernist poets. The only extensive exposure I had to poetry was in the year I attended school in Paris before coming to the United States. They not only had us read Lamartine, Hugo, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, and Verlaine, but they made us memorize certain poems of theirs and recite them in front of the class. This was such a nightmare for me as a rudimentary speaker of French—and guaranteed fun for my classmates, who cracked up at the way I mispronounced some of the most beautiful and justly famous lines of poetry in French literature—that for years afterwards I couldn’t bring myself to take stock of what I learned in that class. Today, it’s clear to me that my love of poetry comes from those readings and those recitations, which left a deeper impact on me than I realized when I was young.

[Photo Credit: Fernanda Chemale]

“Drugstore Cowboy” came out shortly after “Sex, Lies and Videotape” in the summer of 1989. It was a strong year for movies. Scorsese’s short, “Life Lessons” was released that spring. Later came “Do the Right Thing,” and “Casualties of War,” “The Fabulous Baker Boys,” “Sea of Love,” “Glory,” and “Enemies: A Love Story” to name just a few.

“Drugstore Cowboy” was the first movie I saw at the newly-opened Angelica movie house on Houston Street. I saw it again uptown and the movie gripped me.  I saw it again on TV last year. It holds up.

I think it’s Matt Dillon’s finest performance. Kelly Lynch is fantastic as well.

Here’s P. Kael’s blurb for the New Yorker:

Nihilistic humor rarely bubbles up in a movie as freely as it does here. Set in Portland, Oregon, in 1971, the story is about two couples who live together and travel around the Pacific Northwest robbing hospitals and pharmacies, grabbing fistfuls of pills and capsules. They’re like a junkie version of Clyde Barrow’s gang. The director, Gus Van Sant, takes us inside a lot of underground attitudes: the druggies are monomaniacal about leading an aimless existence-they see themselves as romantic figures. They’re comic, but they’re not put down for being comic. The picture keeps you laughing because it’s so nonjudgmental. Van Sant is half in and half out of the desire of adolescents to remain kids forever. As the gang’s 26-year-old leader, Matt Dillon brings the role a light self-mockery that helps set the tone of the film, and Kelly Lynch is strikingly effective as his wife.

Serious Eats gives us Vietnamese Coffee Ice Cream. And why not?

[Photo Credit: Robyn Lee]

Magic Hour in New York City. Picture by Bags.

You can still find a good egg cream in New York. It was a drink from my father’s childhood and not one that I had with any regularity as a kid. Still, it’s a delicious treat. My cousin, who knows from these things, says there is only one chocolate syrup to use–it’s not just that it is the best, it is the only one to consider: Fox’s u-bet.

Man, I’m thirsty all of a sudden.

[Photo Credit: Seltzer Sisters]

Derek Jeter led off the game with a home run to right field, a few innings later Alex Rodriguez turned around a 95 mph fastball from Justin Verlander and hit a grown-up homer to left (eat your heart out Miguel Cabrera).

But I buried the lede–Phil Hughes was terrific. His fastball was in the mid-90s, the curve ball was crisp, and he out-pitched the Tigers’ ace as the Yanks sailed to a 5-1 win. Hughes went the distance (four hits, three walks, eight strikeouts), a remarkable comeback after his lousy outing in California. A solo homer to Prince Fielder was the one blemish on one of the finest performances of his career–he even struck the great Cabrera out twice.

I didn’t see this one coming. But after last night’s tense game, this one was a cool breeze.

Yanks have the day-off tomorrow and then will host the Rays followed by the Mets. Should be a fun week.

The Yankees’ inability to come through with a rally last night cost them the game, particularly in the ninth when Jose Valverde was wild–effectively wild, I suppose. Derek Jeter says the Yanks probably won’t score again this year.

Still, the loss was a drag because Justin Verlander pitches this afternoon. Verlander wasn’t great earlier this year against the Yankees in the Bronx and he was roughed-up earlier this week by the Red Sox. Smart money has him throwing a gem today.

Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Alex Rodriguez DH
Robinson Cano 2B
Mark Teixeira 1B
Raul Ibanez LF
Nick Swisher RF
Eric Chavez 3B
Russell Martin C

I was so pissed last night I told the wife I’d pay her $100 if the Yanks win today and she has to pay me $10 if the Tigers win. She said she’ll buy me five dogs if the Yanks win, I get her five dogs if the Tigers win.

Never mind the odds: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: Oyl Miller via It’s a Long Season]

You Gots to Chill.

[Photo Credit: Ana Kras]

On Star Wars night at Comerica Park the Yankees and Tigers played a taut, tension-filled game. The Stakes seemed high for both teams–for the Yanks because Justin Verlander is pitching tomorrow, for the Tigers because they’ve been horrible lately.

Rick Porcello got Derek Jeter and Curtis Granderson out in the first on hard ground ball outs and after Alex Rodriguez and Robinson Cano singled, Mark Teixeira popped out to end the inning. Quintin Berry walked in the bottom of the inning, stole second, and was sacrificed to third. Then the rain came and the game was called for forty minutes. When it resumed, Hiroki Kuroda got out of trouble, retiring the demolition duo known as Cabrera and Fielder.

The game moved quickly. In the fourth, Don Kelly, a tall, thin left fielder, stretched out and robbed Teixeira of a homer. Bottom of the inning, however, there was no robbing Cabrera of anything as he hit an absolute bomb to center field. The Tigers added another run in the fifth and it stayed 2-0 when the Yanks led off the seventh with back-to-back singles (Chavez, Martin). Juaquin Benoit came in and Jeter sacrificed them over, as we all knew he would, and in spite of some of our hollering.

Would the Tigers walk Granderson to face Rodriguez? I thought they would. Instead they went right after Grandy. The first pitch, a change up, low and away was called a strike though it looked nowhere near the strike zone. Grandy popped the next pitch foul and out of play near the Yankee dugout and apparently Kevin Long said something to home plate umpire–and notorious crank–Bob Davidson because in not time he was thrown out of the game. Joe Girardi was heated, charged over to Davidson and he too was excused from the game. Then Grandy whiffed and Rodriguez hit a soft pop up to second and once again the Yanks couldn’t come through with the big hit.

In the bottom of the eighth, Cory Wade replaced Kuroda and got Berry to ground out to Cano for the first out. Cano moved to his left and fielded the ball on a short hop. He made the play look easy but it was anything but–second base always has odd plays that appear simple because the throw to first is short. Wade got a pop out to Cano and then had to deal with Cabrera.

But Cabrera dealt with him instead launching a 2-1 pitch to deep center right into the cameras.

“What a terrifying hitter he is,” said Tim McCarver on the Fox broadcast.

Enter the Jackass: Jose Valverde, who has added to his jackassedness with a blond billy goat beard since last we saw him (the tail of his hair is blond too).

First pitch he threw clipped Russell Martin in the left shoulder. Dwayne Wise pinch came in to run for Martin and he took off on the second pitch to Derek Jeter (and second ball) and made it to second safely. Three pitches later, Jeter drew a base on balls. Granderson took ball one and then hit a harmless fly ball to center for the first out.

Once again, Rodriguez was in a key spot. He took the first pitch for a strike while Wise and Jeter took off and successfully reached third and second respectively. The infield came in. And Rodriguez took a fastball, high and inside for a ball. The next pitch, another fastball, was outside. The next pitch summed up the season for Rodriguez. Right down the pipe, inside corner, 94 mph. Good swing, but futile, swung right through it for strike two. And then came a fastball that nailed Rodriguez on the left elbow, the funny bone. Rodriguez looked to be in considerable pain as the trainer Steve Donohue led him down to first base.

Leyland commenced to pacing as Valverde’s first pitch was so far outside that I was surprised that it wasn’t his last of the night. But he got the next pitch in on Cano’s hands and the second baseman hit a weak pop fly to short. All down to Teixeira.

The first pitch was way high for a ball. Next, another fastball outside, 2-0. The next pitch, again outside, and not even close, 3-0. How could the Tigers escape this? How could the Yanks find a way to screw it up? The crowd cheered when the following pitch was a strike down the middle. Would Teix take another one? He would not as he fouled a ball off.

Now the Tiger fans were shouting, trying to will their team to a win. Fastball inside, like the one that got Cano out, but Teix fouled it back. More screaming, fans standing, clapping. And ball four in the dirt. Game tied. Now, those same fans booed.

Raul Ibanez leaned back and took a 95 mph fastball inside for a ball.  A called strike. Another ball and then a pop up. The catcher Omir Santos came over near the Yankee dugout and he missed the ball. Flat missed it. More boos. Life for Ibanez as he tipped the next pitch–a good pitch to hit. Fouled off the next pitch too. Then grounded out weakly to Fielder.

David Phelps got the first man out in the ninth, gave up a single and then Jhonny Peralta sliced a ball to right. Nick Swisher, moving to the corner, fielded it on a hop with his bare hand. The ball was tailing to his left. It saved the game though runners were on the corners. Enter Boone Logan. Ramon Santiago, a right-handed hitter, pinch hit for Kelly. Took the first pitch in the dirt for a ball. Next pitch bounced too and Chris Stewart, the new catcher, blocked them both. Then Santiago was walked intentionally.

Bases loaded. Again. For Santos. The 9 hitter. And sunken stomachs in Yankee land, figuring this would just about figure. So Logan throws him a breaking ball for a strike. He lined the next pitch to right, good enough for a sac fly and good enough for the win.

Final Score: Tigers 4, Yanks 3.

Less than fourteen hours until Phil Hughes. Sleep well.

While the Mets remain the talk of the town the dullards from the Bronx look to win another game behind Hiroki Kuroda. Be a nice “w” what with Mr. Verlander vs. Phil Hughes tomorrow.

How ’bout some more runs, fellas?

Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Alex Rodriguez 3B
Robinson Cano 2B
Mark Teixeira 1B
Raul Ibanez LF
Nick Swisher RF
Eric Chavez DH
Russell Martin C

Never mind the storm troopers: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: Scarlet Pimp]

It rained all night. Now the sun is struggling to peak through the clouds.

[Photo Credit: Worship the Feminine]

Greg Prince on the first no-hitter in Mets history.

Who says the Yanks can’t hit rookie pitchers they’ve never faced before? Who says they can’t get a big hit with the bases loaded? They had plenty fun tonight thanks to a grand slam by Curtis Granderson (2-0 pitch and son hit an absolute bomb) and a yeoman effort from C.C. Sabathia. It was a cold and rainy night in the Motor City but the Yanks got a lead and held it together. Grittsy n gutsy by C.C. who threw 39 pitches in the third inning but five in the sixth (after a bad call went against the Yanks, Robinson Cano was positioned just right to make an unassisted double play).

Alex Rodriguez whiffed three times but interrupted a rant by Michael Kay about how he hasn’t hit for power (which is, of course, true enough) to hit a two-run homer in the top of the ninth.

Rafael Soriano had to come in the game with the bases loaded, one out and Miguel Cabrera up in the bottom of the inning but got a ground ball double play to end it.

Final Score: Yanks 9, Tigers 4.

Course, the big news round these parts tonight was Johan Santana’s no-hitter for the Mets, the first no-hitter in franchise history. I only caught the final three outs and have never rooted so hard for the Mets. Good for them.

A good night for the locals indeed.

[Photo Credit: SNY]

The Tigers have been bad. That’s gotta change, right?

Here’s hoping the Yanks take two of three this weekend.

Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Alex Rodriguez 3B
Robinson Cano 2B
Nick Swisher RF
Andruw Jones DH
Jayson Nix LF
Chris Stewart C

Never mind the rookie: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Picture via Activity Village]

Maxim has an oral history of “The Wire.” A must-read for groupies of the show.