Book #14- Lardner on Baseball

Ring Lardner, using what used to be known as a "typewriter"...

One of the many things I love about baseball is its rich history in the American narrative. From the origins of the game all the way to present day, baseball more than any other sport has become interwoven with American history. Between countless movies, documentaries, television specials, online articles, lists, etc. it is the most accessible sport we have. Tennis and golf are individual sports. Football has taken the "most popular" title from baseball, but has also taken with it the negative frenzy and over-exposure that baseball benefited from (and was also hindered by). Hockey sadly lacks the mainstream access and coverage in America, and basketball is coming on strong, but is still seen as an individual-driven sport (which is a different debate for a different day). Baseball is blessed to have teams who are institutions of their own (Boston, New York Yankees, Dodgers, Cubs, et. al.), so the talk about stars being bigger than the teams themselves is rendered false (when Jeter retires, the Yankees will still be a hugely profitable and popular team. The Cleveland Cavaliers are finding out how life without LeBron James can be, driving your franchise upwards).

Historically, the period before Babe Ruth was known as the 'dead ball' era, based on the fact that there were few true stars in the developmental days of MLB. Perhaps the most famous of the writers who covered this era was Ring Lardner. This collection of stories from Lardner- a collection of satirical chapters about Jack Keefe, a fictional, beleaguered pitcher; a series of short stories about life of ballplayers off the field; and non-fiction posts throughout the 1919 World Series (known today as the Black Sox scandal)- present ballplayers in a more human, less otherworldly light. It's a great read, as though Lardner knew of the disappointing fall from grace so many professional athletes have had in the eyes of America over the last 90 years. What results is a portrayal of professional baseball players as strangely- and sadly- human characters.

The 1910 NY Giants starting lineup. The Giants were the faceless villain of Lardner's characters. NY still has it.

Jack Keefe, for example, is a character featured in a number of short stories collectively called "You Know Me, Al", which is a compilation of letters from Keefe to a hometown friend. Keefe overestimates his skill without realizing what everyone else clearly sees: that he is, as a player, overrated. There's an idea that the most elite people at their profession don't see shortcomings. Call it blind optimism. Athletes on the decline are rarely aware enough to admit that they are declining (see Derek Jeter's 2010 contract negotiations). Whether it's a stubborn refusal or the fact that they have competed at the highest level of competition within their field, it is interesting to read this well-written piece of fiction about a player who suffers from this exact thing...which is still relevant today.

Another talent of Lardner's is combining just the right combination of in-game information (even fictitious games) and 'other'. While many people spend time thinking about how famous people in any industry live, Lardner presents life on the road (from experience) as dull and full of immaturity (big boys playing boys games),sometimes downright ugly. We collectively marvel at what life must be like as someone famous, to which Lardner glibly replies "it's interesting, but nothing great". I argue that Lardner's writing is interesting AND great.

Detracting from this book is simply the language. Lardner writes exactly how you might expect a sportswriter from the 1910s to write: gruff, full of unfamiliar lingo, and fairly basic. Not that these are all bad things, but they DO make for a slow read on occasion. Also, I couldn't read through more than one of the short stories at a time, since it would require introduction to an entire series of characters one after another. Unlike a novel where you become acquainted with a set number of people per book, Lardner's short stories- while entertaining- are diverse enough that I could only handle it one story at a time (and I'm a reader whose appetite for books can be described as voracious). All in all, Lardner on Baseball is a humorous and unpretentious look inside the lives of ballplayers. In the event that Lardner takes creative liberties to add brushstrokes of depth to his characters, it i done so with a wink and a nod to what can only be a captive audience of sports enthusiasts.
Life of ballplayers isn't always pretty...right, Randy?

Book #13- Derek Jeter: The Life You Imagine

The Life You Imagine: Life Lessons for Achieving Your Dreams

As baseball season is in full effect, I thought I'd introduce a few baseball-related books for the review. The first of three is one co-written by Derek Jeter, famed shortstop for the New York Yankees. When I first saw the title of the book, I thought, "wow, what a self-important title"; as I read, I realized that it was a little bit different than a holier-than-thou manifest about how great Jeter's life is.

The book is structured as a motivational how-to for setting goals and reaching them. It is devoid of scandalous or sensationalized stories, which does not surprise me; Jeter takes great care to keep his personal life in an air-tight bubble. The book also lacks a ton of information about his playing days to that point (released in 2000, the 2001 World Series, the 03-04 epic Red Sox showdowns, the Torre firing, and 2010 contract negotiations are nowhere to be found here, though I'm sure they turn up in his new biography, The Captain). If we don't have access to adult personal life information and we lack access to playing with the Yankees, what does that leave us with? The answer, briefly put, is that this book comes across as a motivational speech. Jeter- along with Jack Curry- outline 10 tips for "living the life you imagine". Huh?

Before I took into account that this book was published 11 years ago and that Jeter was that much younger and that much more flawless (sabermetrics were born in the 20th century, but matured in the 21st), I thought that it would be a lame sort of 'go get em' book for young people. That remains part true. Bits of advice like "The world is not always fair" doesn't sound as meaningful when dictated by a millionaire shortstop for the world's most recognizable sports franchise.
Post-season heroics are not discussed. Too bad. 2001 WS thoughts would have been interesting...

Of course, things that get glossed over as know-it-all adults can still be put to good use if we as adults take the time to look a little closer (the closing chapter, "Life is a Daily Challenge", should be plastered on walls and billboards the world over). It is here that Jeter's stories have some legs to walk around on. We the general public tend to think of our athletes and entertainers as unflappable. As any Yankee would tell you, there's a whole lot of history behind those pinstripes. So as a teenager, to put that uniform on- to do any adult thing, really- can be frazzling if you're unprepared. Luckily for Jeter, his talent carries him through. For the world in general, there's a lot to fight for, and you've got to be prepared to fight it out daily. This is a valid point for any reader of any age.

While I wouldn't recommend the book to anyone who isn't looking for advice, it was certainly interesting to put things into perspective. Everyone could use some advice, and nothing- no matter how glossy the surface- is perfect.

Furthermore, Jeter does do a tremendous job of highlighting those things which have been widely-reported as important to him: Family. There's a lot of attention paid to the success and ability of individuals, Jeter included. To his credit, he has always gone out of his way to mention his parents and sister for their influence on him throughout his entire life. Kids today can learn a LOT of valuable information from the way Jeter conducts himself and who he keeps closest to him.

Lastly, I've always been interested in how Jeter handles the race card. Born to a bi-racial couple, Derek Jeter has always taken the high road whenever race has come up in any sort of fashion. This book didn't dig deep into it, but it WAS referenced, and the general consensus is that it's unfortunate that some people feel the way they do. While that may be a vanilla response we've come to expect from modern-day athletes, what it DID do was shine light on the fact that Derek and his sister were seen as outcasts in their family since they were part-black. Did not know that.

As an aside, this book came out just after Jeter was dating Mariah Carey, so it was fun to walk down that memory lane again, as well as reminisce about the Boston Brawl, the A-Rod comments in SI, A-Rod coming to NY, Clemens on steroids, Torre's departure, the talk about his shameful Gold Gloves, the 2010 negotiations...NONE of which had happened at that point. Long decade for Mr. Jeter.

A younger Jeter and Mariah Carey. Handled that press like a pro.

Movie #3: Silence of the Lambs

Silence of the Lambs: worth the hype

At #74 on the AFI list, Silence of the Lambs remains in my short list of most disturbing movies ever (Requiem For a Dream is at the top). It is a different sort of scary movie in its realism and its psychotics: Hannibal Lecter (played absolutely brilliantly by Sir Anthony Hopkins) and Buffalo Bill (played by Ted Levine) don't look like traditional slasher types like Michael Meyers or Jason Voorhees. I decided to pick this movie up around Halloween and gave it a watch. Here are my notes:

1) Just before Starling goes to see Lecter the first time, when Chilton says “you might have suggested this in my office, saved me the time” and she responds “yes, but then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your company” shows a brief tongue-in-cheek moment, and a demonstration of her personal strength and character. It's Jodie Foster at her best.

2) Wonder what the auditions were like for the inmates…Miggs’ “I can smell your c---” line must have required a few reads-through, right? (by the way, Lecter'ss “I,myself, cannot” is the most underrated line in the movie)

3) Our first look at Lecter with the imposing music builds him up perfectly. The wide eyes in the first close-up…stunning. There are few times in the movies where the anticipation is handed off to pure dread and fear, rather than being scared.

Hair's are raising on my neck just searching for this picture...

4) For as famous as it is, the fava beans and Chianti line comes out only 20 minutes into the movie...sort of a big gun to bring so early. Still, a witty character, this Doctor Lecter.

5) The autopsy scene is particularly gross. As they turn the victim over, it unlocks a piece of the puzzle…which uncoincidentally kick-started my hatred for bugs. Woof.

6) The newscaster on TV who announces that victim in well…bellhop from That Thing You Do?/father/principal from Dawson’s Creek? (Update: Yes. Ladies and gentlemen, Obba Babatunde!)

7) What makes this a scary movie is that it is truly a disturbing movie…the “its rubs the lotion on its skin” scene is nuts, particularly when it reaches its climax of Katherine screaming as she sees the blood and such on the wall of the well. Just an avalanche of disturbia.

8) Lecter is tremendously charismatic, if offensive and erotic. Looks like an uber-creepy Bing Crosby…or Frank Gorshin.

9) Dr. Chilton is undoubtedly one of the most unlikeable characters in cinematic history.

10) Lt. Boyle, security guard, was also in…(update: RAMBO! He's Murdock! Also part of the innuendo sequence in the second Austin Powers movie. Thanks, IMDB.)

11) If it’s more possible to be as stylish and as brutal, I’d like to see it. You certainly don’t in anything this side of Talented Mr. Ripley.

12) "Goodbye Horses” by Q Lazzarus is a pretty sweet song. Speaking of the tuck scene, all I can think of is David Lee Roth. I'm not THAT far off, am I? Also, nice ring collection.

Diamond Dave would never tuck.

13) The dead body in the bathtub was gross, of course. I’m not sure if it was more disturbing than, say, the fatsuit of skin that Clarice sees before her pursuit of Buffalo Bill in his basement. Again, the lack of corn syrup being sprayed all over the place makes this movie SO frightening.

14) Buffalo Bill in those night-vision goggles could have been stunt-doubled by Craig T. Nelson.

From a psychological and chill factor's perspective, Silence of the Lambs stacks up against any movie in history, in my opinion. Verdict: Fantastic.

New York City: The Late Show with David Letterman

The Late Show with David Letterman
A little outdated, but here goes:

In June of 2010, I managed to cross off the first of my NYC checklist items off by going to see The Late Show with David Letterman. I had gotten the tickets from a buddy of mine who comes to Monday night trivia; he knows a guy who works at CBS and is able to score periodic tickets. With the weather changing and nothing on the agenda for an afternoon, I went to see what the fuss was about with my brother and brother-in-law. I had long been a fan of Letterman since I was old enough to stay up late to catch the Late Show. Letterman struck me as generally funnier than Leno in part due to the biting nature of his work in the 90s; Leno struck me as cheesy and a bit hokey. In any event, Letterman remains a more logical show to see live, as Leno is out west.

We started off with a nice burger and a pint right around the block from CBS studios in Manhattan. The guests that day were: Helen Mirren, Colin Hanks, and musical guest Cyndi Lauper featuring Allen Toussaint. Show went down like this:

Lots of standing on line. Our tickets were of the VIP variety, but we had to arrive an hour or so early just to ensure that our tickets would be held, and for the sake of getting a good seat. We ended up in the balcony, third row, with a solid view of bandleader Paul Shaffer's keyboards. The constant movement of cameras gave us solid-though not constant- views of Letterman's desk.

VIP. Feels good, though it didn't get us out of waiting on line...

My initial thought is that Letterman looked old: too much makeup and sloped shoulders, a little cantankerous and off-putting during the breaks. I tried to think about how a show in mid-2010 must be for this guy by that point, nearly 5000 appearances in to his television career, and came around to a sort of "what a pro" mentality. Everything until the musical portion of the program was done in one take (which, I gather, was part clockwork, part wanting to come of as self-deprecating in the event of any slip-ups, which has been an endearing part of Letterman's general allure: the man's not afraid to screw up every once in a while), and so I gained a profound respect for the people who work on that set and the way they go about their business.
Compelled to give a few pictures, since we weren't allowed to take any indoors.

Dame Helen Mirren was stunning...not even for an at-the-time 63 year-old. She is just a good looking gal. She carried herself with that sort of whimsical charm that brings out the best of the English, and received a huge round of applause from the crowd for both her pro-USA soccer sentiments (on the heels of the 1-1 draw against England the previous Saturday) and her condemning words for BP (at the height of the oil spill...feels like ages ago, no?). In the meantime, I can't be alone in saying that she was an exceptional guest.

Colin Hanks was next, and was largely forgettable. I remember seeing him on Roswell back in the day, and hadn't seen anything of his since. Still, a nice enough guy, coming fresh off of a wedding. So there's that.

The only snafu of the show was the musical portion of the program. There was a re-take because the announcing team and intro cues were mixed up. Mr. Letterman looked REALLY peeved that this was taking place, and wasn't quite fuzzy for the rest of the taping. Lauper sounded great, for what it's worth. She was plugging her then-new album, and performed a number from the album. It was no "She-bop", but it was entertaining. Toussaint's piano skills were very impressive; I had heard some of his work through college in what was about a semester-long New Orleans kick.

All in all, a good program. I'm glad to have gone, and would gladly do so again. Tickets are free, if you're willing to wait a bit. A highly recommended excursion while Letterman's still plugging along.
A fun afternoon in the city with family.

Movie #2: Citizen Kane

Citizen Kane: Orson Welles' 1941 classic

The whole idea to take out a chunk of AFI's Top 100 films of the last 100 years revolves around my desire to start at the top with the 1941 classic, Citizen Kane. Being a huge fan of the Godfather, I was stunned to learn that there was a movie that a widely-respected organization claimed was better than Pacino, Brando, Caan, Cazale, Keaton, Duvall, and company. For quite some time, I had been meaning to was Orson Welles' masterpiece, even arranging a city weekend to check it out (which fell through). Being unable to find it at stores, it seemed as if it would remain elusive, as though I was not meant to see it.

Then, in my search for something to fall asleep to on the way back from Hong Kong, I saw it. Among the (surprisingly vast and diverse) movie selections was Citizen Kane. Well-equipped with sixteen hours to kill, I decided to dive right in. Two hours later, I was not disappointed. There was a lot to like about this movie from the get-go, so let's get into a few of them, shall we?

1) The way the story is structured, it almost seemed like one of those "In the news" bulletins they used to play before films in the theaters (ask your parents/grandparents about it), though solely focused on Kane. This makes the movie a precursor for the Biography channel, E! True Hollywood Story, AND Behind the Music...only on top of that, they throw in the mystery of the whole Rosebud angle (curse Family Guy for spoiling this). That leads me to my next point...

2) The symbolism of Rosebud makes this a credible artistic endeavor. While Citizen Kane was entertaining from many angles, it does force the viewer to come up with a little bit of speculation as to what Kane did to fill this void in his life. As we see when he builds Xanadu, the finest and most expensive things in the world don't add up to make happiness. Without the Rosebud angle, it can be inferred that Kane just had an insatiable appetite for consumption in every regard. This monkey wrench, however, changes the character from someone who just wants more to someone who's actually broken up about going without, who is actually missing something. It's another dimension to the film, and while one could argue that psychologically, Kane's endless consumerism could represent that anyway, Rosebud drives the point home and actually gives a symbol of that ceaseless yearning.

3) Welles shows impressive range, in my opinion, for portraying Kane at every step of the way to the top of his field: from naive young man to uber-powerful mogul, it's as though Welles had drawn from personal experience to show a wide array of characteristic traits. His transitions, too, are impressive, to the point that the nuances between young Kane and in-his-prime Kane and broken Kane are nearly imperceptible until the climax of each phase of Kane's life are already on the table. For example, the scene where all of the dancers are brought into the staff dinner/meeting: early in the scene, it comes across as a genuinely grateful gesture on Kane's part to his partners who have collectively reached the top. There's a look that Welles gives towards the end of the scene, however, that carries a lot of heft behind it, as if saying "I run this show".

4) The scene changes and cinematography. I understand that now I can make a movie using my own computer and a webcam using similar fade techniques and all. What's impressive about this is in the fact that the film this year is 70 years old! Rather than a fade to black or an abrupt cut to the next scene, Welles works an effective, targeted fade from one scene to another, and to a specific object in the next scene, to be precise. Just a very well-shot film. That's another thing, before we move forward: there's a lot to be said for older films which manage to captivate the viewer based on content of the scene, rather than resorting to constant changes of angles. It drives me crazy that it seems to be such a crutch of a tactic; the content is the key, and is what should be able to hold the attention of the viewer.

Note the transition from shot to shot
This brings up a huge debating point of this list and cinema enjoyment in general: how much of a buoy/hindrance is it to be an antiquated movie? The statement that I've been trying to avoid has been, "for its time". Is that fair one way or the other? On one hand, the technologies of today were inconceivable in 1941, and so do we give extra credit (as it may appear AFI has done with their selections) to older films for what they were able to do way back when? On the other hand, it strikes me as a little unfair to create a list of comedies that include many older films, simply because tastes in humor have changed, language has aged, and frankly, there are some films which are considered funny simply by default; Bob Hope is funny to fewer and fewer people as time goes on simply because the styles of humor have changed. As a result, to simply reward older films with a loftier standing on this list because they're older. Keep in mind, I understand and appreciate the idea of acknowledging that which came earlier. But that doesn't mean what came first was better in all cases. In my opinion, you reward slightly. What you should NOT do is handicap newer films for not having entirely original concepts, as 100 years of cinema will deplete the stock of fresh concepts.

All in all, a great film. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. While it doesn't have the rewatchability of, say, The Rock, Citizen Kane is certainly deserving of a spot on this prestigious list. Whether it deserves the top spot is something I'd like to debate. I give it two thumbs up and would certainly recommend this film for anyone, particularly those who can appreciate good film.

Western #1: True Grit (new)

The original True Grit was on last month, and I caught the final two thirds of the film. For the sake of authenticity, I will not say that I saw it, as I definitely missed the beginning. However, I retained enough to have been able to make the connection to the new one when I saw it on the way to Hong Kong. Here are my thoughts (Note: I did not read the 1968 Charles Portis book by the same name)...

The 1969 version of True Grit (starring John Wayne in his only Oscar-winning role) was better, if only for the reason that it was the original theatrical version of the story. While the Coen Brothers remake strikes different chords with regards to cinematography and artistic development, I think that the only thing it tops the original in is the idea of an artistic endeavor in the first place. The story remained the same. Much of the dialogue was almost word-for-word lifted from the original. There shouldn't be any debate over which story was better, as they were nearly mirrored.

The role of Rooster Cogburn fits John Wayne's sort of grizzled, do-as-I-damn-well-please demeanor at that point with countless westerns under his belt. I don't know where the argument that Jeff Bridges pulled the role off better comes from. Look, here's the thing: Bridges did have to strive to turn himself into the role of Cogburn. The problem is that Wayne had the role first, and- unlike something along the lines of Heath Ledger's turn at the Joker compared to Jack Nicholson or Cesar Romero- Bridges didn't re-invent the wheel with this portrayal. It's not that he was bad (in fact, I thought it was an enjoyable part to see him in), it's just that his having to strive to embody that character was not as convincing as John Wayne owning the character.

That is the other point: whether you think Wayne had to act at all to become Rooster Cogburn, the whole aura of "great" actors is that they make it seem like they're not acting at all, like they REALLY ARE the character they're playing on screen. Take Christian Bale as Dicky Eklund in The Fighter: he won the Oscar BECAUSE he did such a convincing job of owning the character. How hard he had to try to imitate Dicky Eklund is irrelevant; the important thing is that it was convincing. Now, I will venture to say that it may not have been a stretch to imagine John Wayne as a grizzled old man (cowboy?) based on having seen other films of his before...but he embodies crotchety, old, weathered Rooster better.

Now, Hailee Steinfeld does a more convincing job in her role than her predecessor, Kim Darby. Part of this is aided by the fact that she's younger than Darby was at the time of the 1969 film's release, thus making the vigilante seeking revenge angle come across as more heartfelt. What makes the 1969 version more authentic, for lack of a better term, from a character perspective is that Steinfeld and Bridges seem to get along a lot easier. While this cohesion should make it better, the stand-offish nature of Wayne lends itself to his loner character. As a result, when he DOES come around to taking Kim Darby under his wing in the original film, it's a grander gesture of acceptance and friendship.

All in all, the names in the 2010 True Grit (including Matt Damon, who gives a solid performance, not unlike Robert Duvall in the original) are probably better actors. However, I'd give my "better performance" award to Wayne and the 1969 crowd. It may be unfair to play the "they did it first" card, but in this case, anyway, that's precisely the point. In a time where "based on" is thrown around too liberally, the 1969 version of True Grit stands out as the first of the two to follow the Portis book fairly closely. The Coens DO provide an updated set, backdrop, and cinematic expression...but much like Avatar wasn't a revolutionary storyline, the familiarity with Rooster and company was established long before the Coen Brothers set out to dream it up...again.

That said, the story itself is quite enjoyable. I found the hunt to be a little slow in both versions, but was impressed by the raw thirst for justice displayed by the heroine. The character of Cogburn is endearing because it embodies a more badass form of good grandparents: supportive, understanding, a bit dismissive of the younger generations, and a certain "I'm too old for this, but I'll get dragged into action again" sentiment. All in all, a good recipe to pass the time on a 16-hour flight, which is a much more important test to pass than you might think.

Something for Others: Designated Driving

Thanksgiving Eve: the biggest drinking night of the year in the U.S. Lots of reunions, catching up, reconnecting, and people-watching going on. By home, the riverside has traditionally been an oasis of long-lost classmates. While I missed 2009's festivities (and I did miss them), 2010 offered an opportunity to resume my duties as DD for whomever needed a ride.

This sort of tradition started the year most of my friends and I turned 21...it was finally time to head out to the bars and see what all the fuss was about. Since we host Thanksgiving dinner at my house every year, I offered my services as driver of a friends' family van. I'm not unlike a sloth with a hangover, and so Thanksgiving morning means I have to be on my A-game. As a result, we would head out and about with a sizable crowd to the bars. Each year has offered similar stories of long-unseen acquaintances from high school and late nights/early mornings returning folks back to their homes.

This year, we had more people than ever having their own homecoming, as they have scattered throughout the United States, and so returning everyone home mainly consisted of returning people to their parents' home ("home base" from here on out). The good news: housewarming party for my buddy Matt, who moved into his own place during the year. The extra good news: no need to hit the bars. The bad news? No concern for public intoxication laws. We had a good crowd, and just about everyone was getting "festive", including a pal who moved south a year or so ago. As a result, the drive home was set to be a memorable. Here we go...

Taking holidays VERY seriously...
The second car of people to get a lift home was full of people who were at varying degrees of intoxication. Everyone had been given the ol' "round up" signal (put an index finger up in the air, then rotate your hand clockwise, pointing your finger skyward the entire time. That's it.), which I had assumed means that if you have to use the facilities, get on it before we depart. In any event, we left for the ride home, and I felt confident that we'd make it without incident; key players were already dozing off, so if nothing else, the ride would be quiet.

Wrong. Within a minute- literally 60 seconds- of leaving for home, I hear "Pull over, I gotta boot". Groan. I start to pull over to let this happen outside of my car, only to hear "I'll just roll down the window. You can lean over me and spew outside." NO! Since we're still on a side road, I pull over to the shoulder, door unlocks, door opens and then, since the spry was drowned by beer in the backseat, there was a vomit stripe down someone's back. This was followed by the rest of the vomit managing to find the pavement. Mostly. Our vomit-skunk decided to take this time to empty his bladder on the street, only to be approached by a police vehicle.

Here's where the benefits of designated driving come in handy:
1) Safe ride home for those you care about.
2) Sober negotiator with authorities.

All in all, everyone got home safely without any sort of rap sheet/blackout/official misconduct/long-term effects. In addition to a good story, it made the fact that I got to spend time with friends who are not around often without having to worry about whether anyone was making any truly disastrous life choices. The moral of the story is this: get a designated driver. If nothing else, you get home safely. If anything else, it make for a good story....you know, if drunken tomfoolery isn't totally frowned upon to begin with.

Managed to avoid getting behind the wheel: more beneficial than this picture is damaging.