Blog Archives

Over at Esquire, Tom Chiarella profiles the hard luck and beautiful life of Liam Neeson.

[Photo Credit: WVS]

Constantine Manos

American Color

Bill Plaschke on the best spot to do lunch in Los Angeles: 

What I really wanted to hear, of course, was what the Dodgers thought about folks just walking into their house and hanging out in the middle of the day, so I phoned club spokesman Josh Rawitch with the news.

“I want to tell you about my favorite place to have lunch,” I said.

“Top of the park at Dodger Stadium, right?” he said.

“How did you know?” I said.

“You’re not the only one,” he said.

It turns out, other folks are aware of this place, and the Dodgers tolerate it for the good of the town.

“There are a lot of fans who refer to the top of the park as the best-kept secret lunch spot in Los Angeles, and it’s hard to argue with them,” Rawitch said. “While we don’t openly encourage it, the fact that it has become known this way is a reminder of just how special Dodger Stadium is to our fans, even when it’s empty.”

[Photo Credit: The Itinerant Fan]

And I could look like Chevalier:

My old man believed in calling ’em like he saw them, especially when it came to compliments. If we were on a street corner with him, waiting for the light to change, and an attractive woman happened to be standing there, he’d think nothing of telling her, “My sons and I can’t help but notice what a beautiful woman you are and thought you might like to know as much.”

The woman would smile, sometimes unnerved, not knowing if it was a come on or what. Sometimes, if she was an assured New Yorker, she’d wink at my brother and me. It wasn’t a pick-up line, the Old Man just believed in expressing himself. Take it or leave it, honey. The man had charm to burn and no lack of chutzpah.

The overweight lover’s in the house…

In the New York Review of Books, Chess master Gary Kasparov reviews the new Bobby Fischer biography:

Fischer’s remarkable life and personality will surely produce countless more books, and probably movies and doctoral theses as well. But there is little doubt that none of the authors of those future works will be more qualified to write on Bobby Fischer than Frank Brady. A close acquaintance of the young Fischer, a “chess person,” as we call them, himself, as well as an experienced biographer, Brady also wrote the first and only substantive biographical book on him, Bobby Fischer: Profile of a Prodigy (1965, revised edition 1973).

It is hard to imagine a more difficult subject than Bobby Fischer to present in an accurate and evenhanded fashion. He was a loner who trusted no one. His charisma attracted both starry-eyed sycophants and spiteful critics. Fischer had strong opinions of the kind that tend to create equally categorical sentiments in those who knew him—and in those who didn’t. He had a very small family and both his mother, Regina Fischer, and his only sibling—older sister Joan Targ—have passed away. Fischer’s general inaccessibility also led to countless rumors and outright lies about him, making the biographer’s task a challenge.

With all that in mind, Brady’s book is an impressive balancing act and a great accomplishment. Before even picking up the book there is no reason to doubt that Brady liked Bobby Fischer and that he has a friend’s as well as a fan’s rooting interest for the American chess hero. But there are few obvious traces of that in Endgame, which does not shy away from presenting the darker sides of Fischer’s character even while it does not attempt to judge or diagnose it. What results is a chance for the reader to weigh up the evidence and come to his own conclusions—or skip judgments completely and simply enjoy reading a rise-and-fall story that has more than a few affinities with Greek tragedy.

This is a lengthy piece but worth the time. Fascinating stuff.

George King on Jorge Posada, DH.

Ben Kabak on prospects.

William with a fun piece on managers and their baseball cards.

[Photo Credit: Anthony Causi]

Seriously, now…got to love spring training.

[Photo Credit: The Best Way to Spend Time On Line]

It never goes away, just gets better…now in HD!

R.I.P. Kenneth Mars.

Here is a nice appreciation at the fabulously titled site, Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule.

I’ve heard of meyer lemons but until last Friday, never tried one, at least not that I can remember. Not long ago, I saw a simple salad dressing that called for meyer lemons, olive oil and garlic. Sure enough, I found meyer lemons at a market in Manhattan. I haven’t made the dressing yet, but used it in another dressing, and on an avocado. They are sweeter than regular lemons, and while they weren’t cheap (fifty cents a pop), they sure are lovely.

They are easy to find out in Los Angeles–check out 100 things to do with a meyer lemon in the L.A. Times.

Bags vs. Kline

This painting always makes me think of “Flight of the Bumble Bee.”

Head on over to Details for the complete oral history of the funny show, “Party Down.”

Yeah, it’s cold again in New York, but their is plenty of hot air about C.C. Sabathia keeping heads busy down in Florida. Hey, Sabathia might opt out of his deal at the end of the year: Oh, word?

Meanwhile, George King has a piece on A.J. Burnett:

“Last year it really hit me how important I am to this team,” Burnett said yesterday on the way out of George M. Steinbrenner Field.

“I am not saying that we didn’t win the World Series because of me, but I know if I had been right, it would have been a lot easier chore. I never knew how important I was to a team. That’s not being cocky or arrogant, it’s the way it is. I mean, what did I do to help?”

King also reports that Joba Chamberlain is ready to step up to Brian Cashman’s challenge.

Via Subway Art Blog, check out this wonderfulness–an artist who makes collages and gifts them around town.

“The Lovers,” By Pablo Picasso (1923)