The Man Who Blew It for Us
– September 30, 2007Posted in: Baseball
Books To Jump Up and Down Over
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (Bat Segundo interview with Murphy)
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (Bat Segundo interview with McClear)
Um, it takes more that one game and one player to accomplish what the Amazins have just accomplished. Can’t blame Mr. Glavine for the choking away of 7 games in a little over two weeks, with a bunch of those being against pretty bad teams. Sorry, while Glavine is certainly part of the reason, it should also go to guys named Reyes, Wright, Delgado, Beltran, and a big credit to that unflappable manager, the next Joe Torre, who never seemed to think his team was in trouble until, well, the ninth inning today.
Hopefully this will carry over into next season and the National League East title will return to its rightful owner, the Atlanta Braves. For now, this Braves fan will cherish the moment, and begin rooting against the Phillies, Yankees, and Red Sox, and for the Padres and Indians.
This is a way to get younger. At least Castro and Milledge performed well enough — and on a large enough stage — that Willie (or whoever manages next year) will be forced to play them everyday.
I’ve got to say, though, I feel sorry for Glavine. That’s not the way he should end his career.
I’d blame Keith Hernandez if I were you.
“Us”? Aren’t you a Giants fan? How did a few months in Brooklyn make you care about the Mets?
You mean one can’t be a Giants fan AND a Mets fan? Who knew?
You can, but it’s a little like being a fan of the Dodgers and the Giants.
Just like it’s impossible to be both a fan of both the Cubs and the White Sox. Which still does not prevent the hilarious sight of Mayor Daley, a Sout’ Sider troo and troo, wearing a Cub hat this week. His family’s devotion to the Sox runs so deep that his father, the original and legendary Mayor Daley, celebrated the Sox clinching of the A.L. pennant in 1959 – right in the middle of the Cold War, mind you – by having the city’s air-raid sirens set off in the middle of the night. Scaring the bejeebers out of millions of your constituents – now, THAT’S a real fan.