Blog Archives

Dig Jonah Keri’s exhaustive profile on Nolan Ryan and the Rangers’ new/old approach to pitching.

Mmm, Mmm, Good.

Jose Antonio Vargas profiles Facebook co-founder, Mark Zuckerberg in the New Yorker:

Zuckerberg may seem like an over-sharer in the age of over-sharing. But that’s kind of the point. Zuckerberg’s business model depends on our shifting notions of privacy, revelation, and sheer self-display. The more that people are willing to put online, the more money his site can make from advertisers. Happily for him, and the prospects of his eventual fortune, his business interests align perfectly with his personal philosophy. In the bio section of his page, Zuckerberg writes simply, “I’m trying to make the world a more open place.”

The world, it seems, is responding. The site is now the biggest social network in countries ranging from Indonesia to Colombia. Today, at least one out of every fourteen people in the world has a Facebook account. Zuckerberg, meanwhile, is becoming the boy king of Silicon Valley. If and when Facebook decides to go public, Zuckerberg will become one of the richest men on the planet, and one of the youngest billionaires. In the October issue of Vanity Fair, Zuckerberg is named No. 1 in the magazine’s power ranking of the New Establishment, just ahead of Steve Jobs, the leadership of Google, and Rupert Murdoch. The magazine declared him “our new Caesar.”

Despite his goal of global openness, however, Zuckerberg remains a wary and private person. He doesn’t like to speak to the press, and he does so rarely. He also doesn’t seem to enjoy the public appearances that are increasingly requested of him. Backstage at an event at the Computer History Museum, in Silicon Valley, this summer, one of his interlocutors turned to Zuckerberg, minutes before they were to appear onstage, and said, “You don’t like doing these kinds of events very much, do you?” Zuckerberg replied with a terse “No,” then took a sip from his water bottle and looked off into the distance.

Congrats to Rafa on winning the US Open. He’s not got the career Grand Slam.

Here’s more tennis from the New York Review of Books.

What’s with Nick Swisher? The Yankee outfielder with have an MRI–his second in ten days–today. According to the Times:

“Short term, I’m worried about it because I don’t know how long it’s going to take,” Manager Joe Girardi said of Swisher. “But I don’t perceive it to be two weeks or anything like that.”

It has been almost two weeks since Swisher fouled a ball off his knee on Aug. 24 in Toronto, and after a period of slight improvement, he said Sunday in Texas that the pain had started affecting other parts of his body. It grew noticeably worse Wednesday, when he fell after taking a swing, and he ran with a limp his first two games against the Rangers. Swisher, receiving treatment before Monday’s game, was not available to comment.

Did last night happen? It sure am did. It was damp and chilly in the Bronx this morning but the sun was out and today is a new day. The city is sparklin’, and a win tonight puts the Yanks back in first place.

Hope is the thing called Nova. Today will be a better day, ya hear?

[Picture by Iyasu Nagata]

Because today we need to laugh.

I can get you a cheeseburger.

CC Sabathia meets David Price tonight. First place is on the line. Man, this should be good.

Let’s Go Yan-Kees!

[Picture Credit: Craig Robinson, 2009. Drawn with the iPhone application Brushes.]

Is Bill James losing it? Check out this rambling essay for Slate and you tell me.

Saturday Night Fever was based on a New York Magazine story by Nik Cohn called Tribal Rites of the New Saturday Night (It appeared in July, 1976):

Within the closed circuits of rock & roll fashion, it is assumed that New York means Manhattan. The center is everything, all the rest irrelevant. If the other boroughs exist at all, it is merely as a camp joke—Bronx-Brooklyn-Queens, monstrous urban limbo, filled with everyone who is no one.

In reality, however, almost the reverse is true. While Manhattan remains firmly rooted in the sixties, still caught up in faction and fad and the dreary games of decadence, a whole new generation has been growing up around it, virtually unrecognized. Kids of sixteen to twenty, full of energy, urgency, hunger. All the things, in fact, that the Manhattan circuit, in its smugness, has lost.

They are not so chic, these kids. They don’t haunt press receptions or opening nights; they don’t pose as street punks in the style of Bruce Springsteen, or prate of rock & Rimbaud. Indeed, the cults of recent years seem to have passed them by entirely. They know nothing of flower power or meditation, pansexuality, or mind expansion. No waterbeds or Moroccan cushions, no hand-thrown pottery, for them. No hep jargon either, and no Pepsi revolutions. In many cases, they genuinely can’t remember who Bob Dylan was, let alone Ken Kesey or Timothy Leary. Haight Ashbury, Woodstock, Altamont—all of them draw a blank. Instead, this generation’s real roots lie further back, in the fifties, the golden age of Saturday nights.

The cause of this reversion is not hard to spot. The sixties, unlike previous decades, seemed full of teenage money. No recession, no sense of danger. The young could run free, indulge themselves in whatever treats they wished. But now there is shortage once more, just as there was in the fifties. Attrition, continual pressure. So the new generation takes few risks. It goes through high school, obedient; graduates, looks for a job, saves and plans. Endures. And once a week, on Saturday night, its one great moment of release, it explodes.

I don’t know from his best, but The Conformist is far and away my favorite Bertolucci movie. If you’ve got a big TV, do yourself a favor and rent it. If not, wait for it to play at a revival house. It’ll be so worth your time.

Movie is gorgeous to watch in more ways than one:

Jay Jaffe presents a reason to be cheerful, forget what happened down in Texas…

About Last Night…

This girl is the Vanessa Del Rio of food pern.

Peace to Brad for hipping me to this on-line collection of William Gottlieb’s photography. It’s wonderful.

Man, imagine going back in time to witness 52nd street during its heyday?

Is Carl Crawford’s time in Tampa close to being over? Ben Shpigel reports in the Times:

…With every game this month and next, the clock also ticks louder toward Crawford’s free agency — and his likely departure from the only organization he has ever known. It is the perpetual challenge for small-market teams like the Rays: how to prevent a homegrown star from bolting for a big payday.

The Rays’ payroll has steadily increased over the last four years, to roughly $71 million from about $24 million in 2007, but their principal owner, Stuart Sternberg, said in spring training that it would plunge below $60 million for 2011. Even with the money they receive in revenue sharing, team revenue has not increased in lock step with the Rays’ success. Devoting what could be a quarter of their budget to one player would run counter to their operating philosophy.

“We could sign just about any player in baseball,” said Andrew Friedman, the Rays’ general manager. “The issue is whether we could field a competitive team around that player. Our job is to balance that. We certainly can’t win a bidding contest for any top player. It’s kind of Math 101 when you look at our resources relative to most every team in the game.”

I once saw the actor Kevin McCarthy, Mary’s brother, walk out of my grandparent’s apartment building. I felt happy to see him, a recognizable face from so many forgettable movies. He was tall and elegant and though I didn’t say anything to him, I felt better just being near him for a minute.

He died on Saturday, 96 years old. R.I.P.

Cliff Lee allowed just two lousy hits and pitched into the 9th inning. Guess he’s back is okay, sombitch. The Rangers scrapped four runs off Dustin Moseley–who pitched admirably in defeat–as they beat the Yanks, 4-1 to complete the weekend sweep.

The Rays lost, however, so the Yanks are still in first place, by a half-a-game.

(more…)

Dude, I couldn’t stay awake last night, missed the end of the game. When I woke up and saw the box score, I was like this:

Now, since I didn’t actually stay up late for the second night in a row to see Mariano lose that Texas Horror Show, I’m trying to remain hopeful. Yeah, even though Cliff Lee pitches today for the Rangers. This is Lee’s first game back from the DL and he hasn’t been his usual dominant self since joining Texas. I could see him shutting the Yanks out for seven innings but I could also see the Yanks touching him up some too. Maybe Derek Jeter has a great game.

It’s all up to that Mystery Man Moseley:

C’mon, son, make like Aaron Small and shut-shut ’em down.

Never mind the hankies, Let’s Go Yan-Kees!

The Yanks have been branded so far this weekend in Texas, a weekend to forget: