Category: sports
"But I, for one, think it is pathetic that my hometown of Philadelphia has a statue of Sylvester Stallone standing outside the Spectrum, but does not have a statue of Joe Frazier, a real-life Philly boxer who would have clubbed a bum like Rocky Balboa into a coma." - Joe Queenan
For baseball fans, Wednesday night was a bit like switching back and forth between cliffhanger movies. What made it even more satisfying was that all my desired outcomes - which seemed not only unlikely but utterly impossible at one point (the Red Sox playing the last-place Orioles; the Rays down 7-0 against the fat cat Yankees - eventually and dramatically came to be.
Though it wasn't until yesterday morning that I grasped the full beauty of the night, as I thought of all the devastated TV executives now deprived of a potential Yankees-Red Sox playoff.
The Marlins said goodbye to their rented home in a touching ceremony. Yes, almost every other franchise has a richer history, but how many of their fans can remember the pitch that started it? Seeing footage of Charlie Hough winding up on the first Opening Day in South Florida was all the more meaningful because most of us could remember where we were when it happened. (Watching on the TV in my editor's office at the Sun-Sentinel.)
There were some lovely moments yesterday: Hanley Ramirez walking out with his children after being introduced as the All-Time Marlins shortstop, and then speaking appreciatively of the fans (who have not always been so appreciative of him). Videos of best wishes from Derrek Lee and Dontrelle Willis. The inclusion on the All-Time Team of Alfredo Amezaga, a player who was never an All-Star but who, more than Jeff Conine, more even than Willis, personified the young, eager, happy-to-be-here Marlins. Crusty Jack McKeon telling the fans: "You're my family. I love you all."
At one point I even heard in the background Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World," a post-game tradition that should be carried over to the new stadium. But that should be about the only one.
The Florida Marlins are dead. Long live the Miami Marlins.
At lunch last week with my friend David, I mentioned that I was going to be covering the U.S. Open.
"We went there when I was a boy," he said. "We saw Althea Gibson."
He pronounced her name tentatively; it had probably been decades since he'd mouthed it. David is not a tennis fan, but it was perfectly fitting that he had once watched one of the game's legends. A privileged upbringing and a bookish life have made David an occasional witness, and an encyclopedic connoisseur, of excellence in all fields. There have been times when he has left the periphery and actually touched greatness: Living in London in the mid-70s he ran into a man on the sidewalk - a full-frontal crash - whom he recognized as Graham Greene.
I told him that it seemed frivolous to write about a tennis tournament while the world was going to pieces.
"Yes," he agreed. "But fun."
(For the next two weeks you can find me at www.worldtennismagazine.com, after which I'll be heading to the Czech Republic for a few days. See you back here on Sept. 19.)
Yesterday I had lunch in Coral Gables with my friend David. David is also a writer, and his house is filled with books, literally; they rise in impressive piles on his living room floor. It helps (or doesn't, depending on one's taste in interior design) that he works in a bookstore.
David lives within walking distance of the University of Miami and often uses the library. Nevertheless, he had only heard vague rumblings about problems with the athletic program. I filled him in on all the sordid details of the investigation, which didn't surprise him.
"Whenever I've heard one of the players interviewed," he said, "they don't sound as if they can read."
After lunch we walked to Publix, where David bought his weekly lottery tickets. On the way out he quoted a line about betting from Flann O'Brien's At Swim-Two-Birds.
Mike Stanton's 10th inning grand slam was enough to lift the Marlins over the Mets last night but it was not good enough to get them onto the front page of the Herald's Sports section. That page was reserved for a story about a former Dolphin returning to the team, a story about the Dolphins offensive line, a column about the Dolphins, and a story about an upcoming exhibition soccer match.
Speaking of exhibition games, the Dolphins haven't even started theirs. They're practically blanketing the front page of Sports and they've only started practicing.
Granted, the Marlins are 15 games out of first place. But you have to wonder how much closer they'd be if they got some support from hometown fans and local media. It must be frustrating to be in the middle of your season and to watch a team in training get all the headlines.
The Marlins may have gotten a new stadium, but respect is still a long ways off.