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According to a report, the Yanks have signed Russell Martin.

I read the novel “True Grit” by Charles Portis recently because I wanted to see what compelled Joel and Ethan Coen to remake the original movie. The novel, by Charles Portis, is short, and written in a straight forward style. It is funny and engaging and it didn’t take long to figure why the Coens loved it–it reads like one of their movies. The material is right in their wheelhouse.

There was a piece on Portis, a private man with no interest in celebrity, this past weekend in the Times Magazine:

There’s a special challenge in adapting a writer like Portis for the screen, because so much of his craft lies in that combination of word-music and sensibility called literary voice. Borrowing his dialogue is a start, and the Coens have done that, as well as employing voice-over passages plucked from the novel. And the dialogue they have added sounds suitably Portisesque: “He has abandoned me to a congress of louts,” for instance, and “I am a foolish old man who has been drawn into a wild-goose chase by a harpy in trousers and a nincompoop.”

But filmmakers have other ways to mimic the effect of literary voice. Think of film noir’s use of low-key lighting to express Chandler’s dark vision of his characters’ inner lives or how different directors try to catch Philip K. Dick’s signature feeling of creeping unreality with trippy special effects or extreme close-ups. And then there’s acting style. John Wayne’s mannered presence, his declamatory line readings and mincing he-man gait, suited him well to Portis’s mock-epic tone. Similarly, the actors in the Coens’ “True Grit” communicate a winning sort of self-importance by puffing themselves up, portentously matching words to actions (“I extend my hand”) and gnawing their lines as if extracting tobacco juice from them.

For more on Portis, check out Tom Wolfe’s famous story, “The Birth of the New Journalism”:

…At the desk behind mine in the Herald Tribune city room sat Charles Portis. Portis was the original laconic cutup. At one point he was asked onto a kind of Meet the Press show with Malcolm X, and Malcolm X made the mistake of giving the reporters a little lecture before they went on about how he didn’t want to hear anybody calling him “Malcolm,” because he was not a dining-car waiter—his name happened to be “Malcolm X.” By the end of the show Malcolm X was furious. He was climbing the goddamned acoustical tiles. The original laconic cutup, Portis, had invariably and continually addressed him as “Mr. X” . . . “Now, Mr. X, let me ask you this . . .” Anyway, Portis had the desk behind mine. Down in a bullpen at the far end of the room was Jimmy Breslin. Over to one side sat Dick Schaap. We were all engaged in a form of newspaper competition that I have never known anybody to even talk about in public. Yet Schaap had quit as city editor of the New York Herald Tribune, which was one of the legendary jobs in journalism—moved down the organizational chart, in other words—just to get in this secret game.

…As for our little league of feature writers—two of the contestants, Portis and Breslin, actually went on to live out the fantasy. They wrote their novels. Portis did it in a way that was so much like the way it happens in the dream, it was unbelievable. One day he suddenly quit as London correspondent for the Herald Tribune. That was generally regarded as a very choice job in the newspaper business. Portis quit cold one day; just like that, without a warning. He returned to the United States and moved into a fishing shack in Arkansas. In six months he wrote a beautiful little novel called Norwood. Then he wrote True Grit, which was a best seller. The reviews were terrific . . . He sold both books to the movies . . . He made a fortune . . . A fishing shack! In Arkansas! It was too goddamned perfect to be true, and yet there it was. Which is to say that the old dream, The Novel, has never died.

Part of being a Yankee fan–especially those of us who grew up during the Steinbrenner Era–means getting what you want come the off-season. But for every success story like Reggie Jackson, Goose Gossage or CC Sabathia, there are even more busts–Davey Collins, Steve Kemp, Jack Clark, and Jose Contreras leap to mind. Still, reflexively, we expect the Yanks to get their man. This year, the Bombers wanted Cliff Lee in the worst way. They made him the biggest offer. And he turned them down.

Sometimes the best gift is the one you don’t get. I think Lee did the Yanks a favor. Brian Cashman and the Yankee brass might be furious at the moment, and certainly, there are a lot of Yankee fans who are vexed this morning, but there is no reason to panic. Seven years for Lee was insane. He would have turned into the Ryan O’Neal of great pitchers for that many years in this town–not built to last.

So kudos to the Phillies. And now Cashman has to get creative. Good. I’m curious to see what he comes up with. Just because we don’t have a splashy big name to keep us warm during the holidays doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do let alone it being the end of the world. Nothing is f***** here. We don’t need to be un-Dude. (And thank goodness George still isn’t running things because heads would roll and dumb moves would be made.)

Hey, think of it this way, at least now we’ll get to read columnists and bloggers and blog readers offere their genius solutions. Ready to revive the Joba-to-the-rotation spiel? (God no, please no! It might make all the sense in the world for Chamberlain to start but that’s a moot pernt becuase the Yanks seem hell bent on keeping him in the pen.)

Who knows what surprises are in store?

I’d be shocked if Lee signs with the Yanks at this pernt–and I’m with Bruce Markusen in thinking they should just take their offer off the table–but if he goes back to the Phillies after all of this, well, that’d be pretty clever.

Know one dude who’d be happy:

[Photo Credit: the Morning Jog]

Leave to Marty to elevate things to another level:

It’s obvious, I know, but fitting…

Let’s hope today is the day for this putz, Lee. Go to Texas and leave us to get on with it.

In the meantime, bop your head to this:

The Cliff Lee Drama promises to unfold shortly–tomorrow they say–and I for one am fed-up with all this waiting. I hope he signs with Texas, stay the bad guy (and I think he’s lock to go back). Look, if he comes to the Yanks, I’ll bellyache about the contract, because it’s insane, but I’ll be pleased that he improves the team in the short term. If he passes, I’ll be relieved and eager to see what the Yanks do next.

That said, this waiting game isn’t endearing Lee to anyone. Not that he does–or should–care.

It’s raining in New York this morning. The Jets play the Dolphins in the late afternoon game out in Jersey. I wonder if football players wake up bummed when they hear raindrops or if it just doesn’t matter at all to them as they gnaw on a slab of raw meat.

In the meantime, check out this loving appreciation of Vic Ziegel and Maury Allen by Harvey Ararton in today’s New York Times.

Araton gets props over here.

In the meantime, the Knicks are on early this afternoon. Yes, the Knicks. Amare has been so much better than I ever expected. What a nice surprise. It’s been awhile…

UPDATE: The first half of the Knicks-Nuggest game today at the Garden is enough to turn fair-weather Knicks fans like me back on. 66-65 Knicks at the half, a shoot-out. Lots of fun. Nene vs. Amare has been spirited, Amare came close to getting his second tech and tossed in the second quarter. Refs gave the Knicks a hometown call. Nene’s thrown down three dunks, the last one, emphatically! over Amare.

Can’t remember the last time I was actually excited about watching the second half of a Knicks game…

UPDATE: Knicks win a good one…that’s their 8th win in a row, something they haven’t done in 16 years.

Celts and then the Heat come to the Garden this week. Nice.

[Photo Credit: N.Y. Daily News and Nathaniel S. Butler/NBAE via Getty Images]

Happy weekend.

Some You Tube fun on a cold winter night:

My favorite Scorsese flix (his ma makes the sauce):

Love this movie:

Bouton as Terry Lennox…

Mr. Barbar.

When I was in high school, Mike Nichols directed a celebrated version of Samuel Beckett’s play, “Waiting for Godot.” It featured Steve Martin, Robin Williams, F. Murray Abraham and Bill Irwin. It ran for a short time at the Mitzi Newhouse Theater and tickets were not sold to the public. A lottery was held for Lincoln Center subscribers and my former French teacher scored a pair. I applied the full-court press and she took me on the condition that read the original version of the play (Beckett was Irish but wrote Godot in French first).

I didn’t read it, and it wasn’t until a few years later, when I took a class on Beckett at Hunter college, that the play’s meaning made sense to me. Literally translated from French, the title is “While Waiting for Godot,” and to me that is what the play is all about–what we do while we wait.

This week, we haven’t talked much about food, movies, music or life in the city. We’ll be back at it come Monday. In the meantime, while we wait on Clifton Lee, here are a few links for your face:

Marky Mark’s new boxing movie could be worth the price of admission.

This Led Zep book sounds like fun, too.

Peep Savuer’s banquet of cook books.

Dig this blog about George Steinbrenner as a young man.

And how about this dude who just sold his first book, a baseball novel, for $650,000? Man, I’m sure looking forward to reading it.

(Yeah, and that’s Elia Kazan in Odet’s original version of “Waiting for Lefty” in the photograph above.)

Cliff Lee has at least one seven-year deal on the table from the Yanks. Actually, he’s got a variety of proposed deals from both the Yankees and the Rangers. And he’s still thinking. To me, this means that he’s going to sign with the Rangers. Maybe later today, or over the weekend. The New York papers will be chock full of panic but our man Steven Goldman says not to worry:

Lee might help in the short term, but if the price is too high, they have other choices. Six months from now, Manny Banuelos could be ready to take his stuff up to the Bronx—again, just because the Yankees handled Hughes and Chamberlain like they’d never had a young pitcher before (in fairness, in many ways they hadn’t), not everyone has to advance by baby steps. There is a school of thought that says that once a pitcher reaches a certain level of proficiency in the minors, all a team achieves by keeping him down there is not greater learning, but a greater risk or arm injury as they roll pitches off his odometer.

…I don’t really want to hear about Lee anymore, because I don’t view Lee as the Ultimate Nullifier, the Encyclopedic Panacea. There are other things that need to happen as well, but we don’t hear about them, because all the eggs seem to be in this one left-handed basket. It may also be that because of these numbers—31, 37, 35, 30, 30, 39, 39, 34, and 41—I can’t get too excited by the addition of a 32, no matter how good. The only way the Yankees are going to continue to win consistently is with the addition of a 22, and a 23, and even the odd 27 if need be. Maybe Lee is the next Warren Spahn and he will pitch well into his 40s. I have no way of knowing if that is the case. What I do know is that there was only one Warren Spahn, and you could wait on the corner for a long time before you see another.

The Yanks and Sox compete all season long on the field. Come winter, it’s the GMs and the agents and the owners on center stage. The Yanks got Teixeira, the Sox were patient and countered with Gonzalez. Sox get Carl Crawford, Yanks all in for Cliff Lee. Sox want Russell Martin, Yanks want Russell Martin.

Boys, boys. Man, the Yanks-Sox the biggest circle jerk in baseball or what? Do these guys ever sleep?

Cliff Lee is the object of the Yankees’ desire and Brian Cashman has not minced words in swooning over the star pitcher. Now that the Red Sox have signed Carl Crawford to a crazy deal the pressure is on for the Yanks to keep pace. I’ve gotten used to Lee as a nemesis and wonder if he’ll end up back with the Rangers or even the Angels though I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if he comes to the Bronx either.

The Yanks sound desperate to get him. The latest has them going to seven years. Is that knuts, a wild pitch, or just the price of doing business?

Speaking of wild pitch, dig this great marathon MC Serch and OC freestyle from the old Stretch Armstrong Show:

And if that’s not your speed, how about this:

Or, for those of you who speak Spanish:

Update: Chad Jennings with some Rule 5 fun.

Update: Over at Newsday, Ken Dawidoff breaks down Derek Jeter’s new contract.

Update: Joel Sherman has the details on several contract offers the Yanks have made to Cliff Lee.

Let’s take a quick break from Waiting for Godot with some good old meat and potatoes rock n roll:

Some fans love to play armchair manager or, especially these days, armchair GM. I like to play armchair shrink, not because I have any training as a social worker or as a doctor but because in an era where athletes are over-exposed and yet distant and sheltered, I find it amusing. It floats my boat, being a yenta. And when you get right down to it, so much of sports coverage these days is about being a yenta. The truth of it is we don’t know anything about these guys. Derek Jeter, Jim Thome, name a “good guy.” I have no idea what they are really like and I don’t know that I’d trust any writer–especially a writer–who claimed to know otherwise.

Some of my baseball pals don’t want to know anything about the players. Just keep it to the playing field. The more they know, the harder it would be to root. But it has always been complicated to separate the artist from his or her work. What do you think of when you watch Charlie Chaplin? Or Woody Allen? Can you watch a Roman Polanski movie and not think about the man behind the camera? What about Elia Kazan? My wife won’t watch any movie with Mel Gibson anymore. Can you watch Alex Rodriguez and still enjoy him? Can you enjoy sports and art without being a moralist? I can, but sometimes it is easier than others.

So I enjoyed the show of emotion from Derek Jeter yesterday and had fun reading into it. Helps keep me warm as the weather gets colder.

Today is the third day of the winter meetings. Still nothing doing on Cliff Lee though the tweets and posts keep a coming.

We’ll keep ya posted…

Update: Yanks getting ready to show Cliff Lee their money-maker?

Here’s Chad Jennings on Carl Crawford.

Growing old in baseball means growing up and that is never easy. Just ask Derek Jeter, the greatest Yankee of our time. In a press conference this afternoon, Jeter said he was angry with the free agency process and how negotiations have been portrayed. He didn’t like hearing the words “greedy,” “ego,” and “arrogance,” associated with his name, the brand he’s worked so hard to cultivate.

Jeter is so much more than a player. He’s a great star, a great New York star. “He’s a bi-racial angel”–the best line in Will Ferrell’s latest movie, featuring a cameo by Jeter. From his rookie season, it was clear that Jeter was mature and poised. He was the kind of kid grown-ups liked, the good son, team player, head down, plays hurt gamer. He learned from Darryl Strawberry and Reggie Jackson and maintained control over his image, with only a few minor bumps, in his brilliant 16 year year career. Jeter doesn’t want to talk bout the end even if it is on everyone else’s mind. But he finally got into a situation that he could not control and it pissed him off.

I don’t blame him for being mad. If I’d worked so hard to do everything right, been so careful, so deliberate, I wouldn’t like the loss of control either. This is a hard lesson that Jeter will unfortunately have to learn, at least partially, in the public eye, whether he likes it or not. Beneath his cool exterior, longtime Yankee followers know that Jeter has a lot of heat in him–remember Ken Huckaby?–but he rarely shows that side to us like he did today. He didn’t lose his temper but he looked vulnerable, like a sheltered kid. I enjoyed it, like I enjoy almost everything about watching Derek Jeter on and off the field. Watch enough post-game interviews and you can see that Jeter has a sharp sense of humor; his eyes are always alert. I hope he’s so pissed that he hits .300 next year.

(more…)

There was a press conference in Boston yesterday to introduce Adrian Gonzalez as the newest member of the Red Sox. 

“I’m very excited that everything was able to be worked out,” Gonzalez said, “and I’m very excited to be here in Boston, and ready to beat the Yanks.”

That was cute, trying to fit in on the first day. It just about sums up the difference between the Yankees and the Sox. You’ll never hear a star player in New York mention the Red Sox in his debut press conference (okay, maybe Johnny Damon did, but that’s different). Gonzalez is a load as a player and I’m sure he’ll cause some real agita next year. But this was cute.

All eyes remain on Cliff Lee. He’s been such a good nemesis for the Yanks the past few years now I’m starting to feel that he’s going to foil them again, leaving us with uncertain thoughts about A.J. Burnett to keep us warm this winter. If the Yanks lose out on Lee and Andy Pettitte retires, we’ll have something to chew on, won’t we?

Update: The Nats are hungry to be Money Boss Players.

Update: Cause for celebration: Jay Jaffe has been elected to the BBWAA.

I went to the winter meetings once, back in 2003. I shared a room with Jay who was the first blogger I ever met (lunch at Christine’s polish diner on 1st Avenue, February, 2003). I am thrilled by this news. Few are more deserving than Jay. Raise a glass with me!

Update: Nah, it’s not the Nats who supposedly have a 7 year offer out there for Lee. But it is someone, according to Jon Heyman.

First night of the Meetings. Nothing big to report for the Yanks yet.

Dandy Don Meredith passed away today and we lost a guy who used to make us laugh. The Jets and Pats play a Monday Night football game tonight that actually means something, a throwback to Meredith’s day. It is a big, over-hyped game and I’m eager to see it though I will feel no pain at the outcome–ah, the pleasures of being a slave to just one team! That said, Let’s Go Jets.

Otherwise, if I hear anything on the baseball front I’ll let you know and vice versa.

Update: Here’s a nice wrap-up of today’s Yankee doings from Chad Jennings.

[detail of painting by Fred Garbers]

Happy Chanukah for those of you who get down like that.

Windows warshed yesterday morning at my neighborhood spot.