By Michael Kaufman

Last Thursday afternoon, a group of Jewish high-school girls in the state of Washington gave the adults in the state a lesson in sportsmanship and brotherhood… or maybe sisterhood would be a better word. The girls, members of the Mercer Island Northwest Yeshiva girls basketball team, walked onto the court at the SunDome in Yakima for a scheduled playoff game in the Washington state tournament. They shook hands with the members of the opposing team, St. John-Endicott…. and walked off the court, forfeiting the game

That Thursday was a fast day for many observant Jews, the “Fast of Esther,” the day before the holiday of Purim. The girls would go without both food and water until sundown. When their request to change the game time was denied, officials of the small, 95-student Orthodox Jewish high school near Seattle decided to forfeit.
 
“We didn’t think it was safe for the team to play without water,” explained Rabbi Bernie Fox, the school’s head. Thus, the first team from a Jewish school to qualify for the state tournament became the first team in state history to forfeit a postseason game. Northwest Yeshiva was aware of the potential scheduling conflict when the initial playoff draw was announced. Had they won their first tournament game earlier in the week, the conflict would have been avoided. But they lost to Sunnyside Christian, putting them into the consolation bracket.
 
Yeshiva officials contacted the Washington Interscholastic Activities Association (WIAA) prior to the first game to offer suggestions to resolve any logistics problems involved in the potential rescheduling.
 
“We came up with possibilities that we hoped might be a win-win for all involved,” Fox said. He said the school offered to play the game Thursday evening at an alternate venue and offered to help defray the financial costs of moving the game. Another option was to play the game that evening on St. John-Endicott’s home court. But the WIAA said changing the game would cause too much disruption in the rest of the playoff schedule.
 
“As to the request that, could we do some rescheduling to deal with this particular issue, that would negatively impact the schedule for all 31 of the other teams involved,” said Mike Colbrese, WIAA executive director, in an interview with the Yakima Herald-Republic. He did not explain just how holding a game on the same date could possibly have a deleterious effect on the schedule for the other 31 teams. 
 
“And if we were to go off-site with (any rescheduling),” he continued, “we’ve basically taken both teams out of their schedule and they end up playing their game at night, not in the afternoon. And they’re also not getting that state tournament experience, which is really what the whole thing is about.”

By that he meant that the two teams would not be playing in the SunDome, Yakima’s answer to Madison Square Garden. After all, the SunDome is the home of the Yakima Valley Warriors. I had to go to the Warriors home page to learn that they are a professional indoor arena football team. Their next big home game is scheduled for April 3 against the Wenatchee Valley Venom. Other events coming soon to the SunDome are a WWE professional wrestling “Smackdown” and the Professional Bull Riders Touring Pro Division. Speaking of bull riding, Colbrese’s explanation is pure bullspit. 
 
“It left us in an awkward situation,” Fox said. “We felt that if we could not reschedule the game, we would at least show good sportsmanship.” So Northwest Yeshiva contacted St. John-Endicott about setting up a meeting on the court instead. The Thursday afternoon handshake was the result.
 
“St. John-Endicott was very appreciative,” said Fox. “They conducted themselves with perfect sportsmanship.”
 
It remains to be seen whether Northwest Yeshiva will be sanctioned by the WIAA for its actions. Colbrese told reporters that potential sanctions will not be discussed until later this month. However, he added, “the board is under no obligation to sanction Northwest Yeshiva.” How kind of him. 
 
The Fast of Esther isn’t exactly Yom Kippur and the Northwest Yeshiva girls are not Sandy Koufax….but there are some similarities between the stand taken by the team and the Hall of Fame pitcher’s refusal to pitch the first game of the 1965 World Series. “We worked really hard to get here, to qualify for state,” said sophomore player Julia Owen. “But we’re also very happy to be able to show that our religion is very important to us. Although it’s hard because it would be great to get the chance to continue, we’re not wishing we could ignore the fast and play, because observing the fast is important.”
 
“Whether you’re in a public school or religious school, you want kids to gather not just knowledge, but values to guide decisions in life,” added Fox. “This was a situation where the team was challenged to do that — to prioritize. And they felt that as important as this basketball tournament was, they couldn’t compromise their personal values. I’m very proud of them.” And so, I suspect, are many others across the country, be they secular or religious, Jewish or non-Jewish. The shame lies with the closet anti-Semites of the WIAA.

Michael can be reached at Michael@zestoforange.com.

By Michael Kaufman

So the snowboarding kid from New Hampshire gets sent home after sexually suggestive photographs appear on the Internet, while skier Julia Mancuso hawks her “Kiss My Tiara” lingerie line on her official Web site and Sports Illustrated posts 45 pictures of skier Lindsey Vonn posing in Vancouver in an array of skimpy bikinis. Granted, the two sexy skiers are alone in their respective photos and not involved in any simulated Lewinsky-like activity, but there is still something wrong with this picture…or rather, these pictures.

I am not defending Scotty Lago’s behavior here. But, as The New York Times reported, he seemed genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry for the pictures,” he said. “I’m sorry to the American public that I offended. I was out celebrating. It happened so quick.” Unlike Mancuso and Vonn, he received no money for his appearance in the racy photos (nor did the young woman with him).

This is but one of the many contradictions that come to mind as the Winter Games continue this week. There is no denying the grace, skill, and courage of most of those world-class athletes assembled in Vancouver. It is a pleasure to watch them compete at this level in pursuit of excellence in their respective events. (And just as an aside, I am pleased to report that after watching many Olympic Games in my lifetime, I think I finally understand curling.)

But as I watched the men’s hockey game the other night between the United States and Canada I thought about another great U.S. Olympic athlete…not a hockey player, not even a winter Olympian. I thought about Jim Thorpe. That is because every man on the ice for both teams was a professional player from the National Hockey League. Even the referees were NHL professionals. The Olympics have been allowing professional athletes to compete for a while now, so it was no surprise. It all dates back to the late Cold War years and the International Olympic Committee’s response to complaints that the best athletes from the “Communist bloc” had an unfair advantage because they could compete as amateurs. Still, whenever I see professional athletes in the Olympics I think of Thorpe.

Jim Thorpe competed in the 1912 Olympics in Stockholm, where he won the gold medal in the first modern Olympic decathlon with a score of 8,413 points (a record that would stand for nearly two decades). He also won gold in the pentathlon. He received a special prize for his decathlon performance from King Gustav V of Sweden, who reportedly told him, “You, sir, are the greatest athlete in the world.” Thorpe is said to have replied, “Thanks, King.”

He came home to a ticker-tape parade on Broadway but his celebration was short-lived. In 1913 several newspapers reported the damaging news that he had played professional baseball in 1909 and 1910 and was thus ineligible to compete as an amateur athlete. He played for Rocky Mount in the Eastern Carolina League, where he was paid as little as $2 per game as a semi-pro. In a letter to Edward Sullivan, secretary of the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU), Thorpe said he was unaware that playing semi-pro baseball would affect his amateur eligibility. “I hope I will be partially excused because I was just an Indian schoolboy and did not know about such things,” he wrote. “In fact, I did not know that I was doing wrong because I knew I was doing what several other college men had done, except they did not use their own names.”

Unmoved, the AAU retroactively withdrew his amateur status and requested that the IOC do likewise. Later that year the IOC voted unanimously to strip Thorpe of all his Olympic titles, medals, and awards, and declared him a (gasp) professional.

“Ignorance is no excuse,” said Avery Brundage, president of the U.S. Olympic Committee and later the IOC. Ironically, Brundage was Thorpe’s Olympic teammate in 1912. But he went on to become a Nazi sympathizer who as late as 1971 claimed that the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin (often called the “Hitler Olympics”) were “the finest in modern history… I will accept no dispute over that fact.” 

It was not until 1983, 30 years after the death of Jim Thorpe and eight years after the death of Avery Brundage, that the IOC returned Thorpe’s Olympic medals to his name.

Perhaps next time you see professional athletes competing in the Olympics, you too will think of Jim Thorpe.

Michael can be reached at Michael@zestoforange.com.

By Michael Kaufman

The Olympics Games just aren’t the same without the Cold War. I miss hearing American athletes complain about getting jobbed by East German judges…. What ever happened to all those East German judges anyway? Did they get punished or reprimanded after German unification? Were they allowed to continue being judges?… NBC could do a nice human interest story on the subject during the Vancouver games, maybe interview a couple of former East German judges and get some pithy quotes. “I miss seeing that disappointed look on their faces when they saw the scores I gave them…”

Meanwhile, Chairman Mao must be spinning in his grave at the sight of the Nike swoosh logo on the uniforms of the Chinese athletes. Consider the irony of children working long hours in sweatshops making Nike shoes in the People’s Republic of China. Or else maybe he is laughing…thinking about all the money the U.S. owes China today…. Speaking of Mao, do you think he minds that they changed his last name posthumously from Tse-tung to Zedong? Older readers will even recall when American newscasters pronounced his first name “Mayo.” I remember watching Nixon’s visit to China on TV and my friend Dominick pointing at the screen and saying, “Look! There’s Mayo.”

Don’t you love the way Scott Hamilton grunts while watching the figure skaters perform? Hamilton, a two-time Olympic gold medalist, provides expert commentary for NBC. He grunts when they do something spectacular and also when they make a terrible mistake. And unless it is something obvious—like falling on their keister—viewers unfamiliar with the intricacies of the sport have no clue what they just witnessed. But even though I don’t know a lutz from a klutz I love the passion Hamilton brings to the job…
 
Hockey is a great game and women’s hockey may have a great future but shouldn’t there be more than two countries with good teams for it to be included in the Olympics? It is hard to watch Canada and the U.S. play anyone but each other. I could play for a couple of those other teams if I wanted to have a sex-change operation and renounce my citizenship.

Already we have heard stories about several athletes so intent on fulfilling their dream to compete in the Olympics that they became citizens of another country. There was that fellow from Australia who is actually Canadian (I’m sorry: I haven’t been a sportswriter for years and I don’t know the names like I used to) who finished second in the mogul skiing competition.

That reminds me, what, exactly, do they mean by “mogul?” I looked it up in the dictionary to see if there is a reference to skiing anywhere. I learned some interesting things about the origin of the word, but it pretty much means what I thought. Come to think of it, that might be an interesting Olympic sport after all. Imagine Donald Trump or Warren Buffet skiing for the U.S. against the top business magnates from around the world.

Then there is this Japanese girl who at age 16 wrote to the famous Russian skating coach because she wanted to train with her. She moved to Russia, renounced her Japanese citizenship, trained with the famous coach, Russianized her name, and has now fulfilled her dream of skating in the Olympics. The downside is she isn’t big in Japan.

Big in China (and now the U.S. thanks to NBC) is the married couple that has slept in separate dormitories for 18 years while training to become world-class figure skaters. They too have fulfilled their dream.

Personally, I think they are all a little meshugena (Pronunciation: (mu-shoog’u-nu), n. Slang. a crazy person. Also,me•shug’ga.

Michael can be reached at michael@zestoforange.com.

By Michael Kaufman

As newspapers across the country are continuing to drop like flies, the people now running the Times Herald-Record are doing their darnedest to win back readers and woo advertisers. In case you missed them, here are just a few of the steps they have taken in recent months to upgrade the paper.

They expanded the comics section by a full page after polling readers as to which comic strips they like best…and least. Sadly, Beetle Bailey and Prince Vailant didn’t make the cut. I haven’t read either in decades, but I found it comforting to glance at the familiar characters on the page. They will be missed.  

Another recent innovation was the expansion of the television listings, a much-needed service for those readers too busy to wait for the schedule to scroll into view on their TV screens.

But they missed the boat–or should I say the car or motorcycle–by not adding another page to the wildly popular “My Ride” section. Readers would like nothing better than to see more photos of people standing next to their prized classic cars and Harley-Davidsons. I especially like the pictures of the little kiddies at the wheel of their miniature cars. I think readers would also like to see some pictures of the family pets with the cars.

And what were they thinking when they told Barbara Bedell she can no longer run group pictures if the peoples’ faces aren’t at least as large as a dime? As she has correctly pointed out (several times now) in her column, this limits the number of people who can appear in a group photo. To include an entire group she may have to run several photos with just a few members each. This will mean less room for text. I am surprised that the powers that be at the paper have not figured out the obvious solution: Give Barbara Bedell another page!

After all, there probably isn’t much news to report anyway, at least as far as I can tell from reading the Record. One of the biggest stories in the news section of Sunday’s paper was about the restoration of the Glenmere Mansion in Chester, now taking reservations as a luxury bed-and-breakfast. It said the owners spent $30 million to restore the place, built in 1911, to its original splendor, “as well as to create an upscale destination meant for the wealthiest and most distinguished of New York’s upper crust.” 

“Polish master craftsmen restored the original ironwork balustrades and decorative wood molding; a Ukrainian artist painstakingly transferred a wall mural to canvas; and a famous modern landscape architect is in the process of recreating the gardens, designed by Beatrix Jones Farrand, America’s first female landscape architect and niece of novelist Edith Wharton.” Pretty swell, huh?

“I think there’s a real need for a high-end place to have dinner with a significant other, as well as to spend a night,” said Laura Bremer, a public relations specialist. She said the idea is to make the extra cost worth it for customers, especially in a tight economy. “People want to be taken away, and in this house, you really feel like you’re in Tuscany,” she said.

The article notes that modern luxuries of the bed-and-breakfast include a “sumptuous 1,250-square-foot penthouse on a private third floor, priced at $3,400 a night; custom-made Italian linens; radiant Italian marble floors in every bathroom; gas fireplaces next to every bed and some baths; high definition, flat-screen TVs; and gorgeous views…”

If that is a little too upper crust for you…not to worry! “Despite its luxuries, the prices remain on par with high-end hotels in the metro New York area. A night’s stay starts at $550, dinner for two in the Supper Room averages $100-$200, and one can still grab a burger, fries and a beer for under $40 at the bar…”  Gee, thanks.

I wish them luck but it seems to me that if someone has $3,400 or even $550 to spend on a night in a hotel room that will make them feel like they are in Tuscany, they’d may as well go to Tuscany, not Chester. (They’ll know for sure they’re not in Tuscany if they visit the nearby Brotherhood or Kedem wineries and taste any of the wines.)

On the same page as the Glenmere Mansion article was a “News Brief” that I’m sure was of tremendous interest to readers in the Mid-Hudson Valley: A 16-year-old matador in Caceres, Spain, killed six bulls in one day. Maybe they’re contemplating expanded bullfight coverage.  Don’t laugh: It makes about as much sense as what they’ve done so far.

Michael can be reached at  michael@zestoforange.com.

By Michael Kaufman

A couple of weeks ago I got an intriguing email from the Santa Anita racetrack titled, “Special Holiday Racing on MLK Jr. Day at Santa Anita Park.” I wondered just how the West Coast’s premier thoroughbred track would commemorate the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. After all, Dr. King gave his life fighting for equality, social justice, a living wage for working people, and an end to war. It seemed a bit of a stretch … and I don’t mean the one the horses come down at the end of the race.

I read on: “All THOROUGHBREDS™ members in attendance, who scan their card at Santa Anita Park on January 18, will receive the Santa Anita Collectible Beer Bucket, with paid admission, while supplies last. Put your favorite drinks on ice wherever you go.” There’s a picture of a nifty looking ice bucket, decorated with a scenic photo of the Santa Anita track, with blue sky and mountains in the background and the track logo in the center. Four bottles of Budweiser beer, nestled in ice, protrude from the bucket.

It seemed an odd way to acknowledge the holiday, but I guess it was better than giving away a Martin Luther King Commemorative Beer Bucket. “If you are not a THOROUGHBREDS™ member and would like to receive this amazing 75th Anniversary Ice Bucket,” continued the email, “visit the Main Thoroughbreds Center when arriving at Santa Anita Park on Martin Luther King Jr. Day… It is free to sign up. Must be 18 years or older to be a THOROUGHBREDS™ member.” Darn! I was hoping they would tell me how to obtain one of those amazing buckets via email even though, for the record,  I am not now (nor have I ever been) a card-carrying member of THOROUGHBREDS™ and I don’t have a card to scan. (I don’t even know what THOROUGHBREDS™ is.)

They had me anyway: Holiday racing at a major track is usually a treat for horseplayers because it means there will be plenty of graded stakes and allowance races on the card. So I checked out the King Day entries at Santa Anita, hoping they might even have a couple of races suitably named for the occasion: The Rosa Parks Sprint, perhaps, or maybe a distance race called the Selma-to-Montgomery Handicap. 

But it was just a typical Monday program, consisting mostly of cheap maiden (non-winners) and claiming horses. The only stakes race was the 58th running of the Grade II San Marcos Stakes. Nevertheless, I decided to celebrate King Day by eschewing my usual handicapping style, which consists of poring over pages of data before making the wrong selections, and instead choosing the one horse in each race that most reflected the spirit of the holiday. Using this method I was able to come up with picks for seven of the nine races.

Just to give you an idea of the quality of the races we are talking about here: the first was a claiming race for older fillies and mares that were winless in 2009 (and thus far in 2010), the second included only older horses that hadn’t won two races in their lives, the third was an even cheaper maiden claiming race for older horses that had never won a single race, etc.

My seven picks began with Cherie’s Dream in the first, Free Lunch in the second, and Justice Reigns in the third. It was a tough call in race four between Seize Power and Ready for Change. But I think of Dr. King as more of a ready-for-change kind of guy than a power seizer so in the end I opted for Ready for Change. Then it was Victory With Honor in the sixth and High Court Drama in the seventh (the featured San Marcos Stakes). I finished with Jesse’s Soul in the ninth.

So how did I do? I broke even of course. Here is the press release:
 
MONDAY RACING CANCELLED AT SANTA ANITA, TRACK, WEATHER CONDITIONS CITED
ARCADIA, Calif. (Jan. 18, 2010)—Live racing has been cancelled for Monday at Santa Anita due to wet track conditions and the certainty of continued heavy rain throughout the afternoon.

Oh well. They will just have to save those amazing beer buckets for the King Day giveaway next year. Or maybe they can use them next Hiroshima Day in August.

Michael can be reached at Michael@zestoforange.com.

By Michael Kaufman

When Claude Pepper died in 1989, Horace B. Deets, executive director of the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP), said it would be hard to find an advocate for the rights of older Americans who could replace the feisty Florida Congressman. ”There really isn’t anyone on the American political landscape who could step into Claude Pepper’s shoes,” said Deets.

The current version of AARP serves to prove his point. Instead of vigorously promoting the ideals of Claude Pepper (such as universal health care), the AARP now offers its 35-million members advice to the lovelorn from Dr. Pepper!  That would be Dr. Pepper Schwartz, described as “AARP’s sex and relationship expert,” who has written 16 books on the dating habits and sensuality of couples and singles. I know this because I am a member of AARP and I got an email from the organization last week with a subject line that grabbed my attention: “Michael, Delicious Burger Recipes!” 

Under “Featured Recipe: Full-Flavored Burgers,” I read, “Bored with the basic burger?” (Not at all. I like basic burgers.) “Jazz up your next meal with our Spicy Turkey Burgers With Pickled Onions, Blue Cheese-Stuffed Bacon Sliders, and Greek-Bison Burgers. Yum!” (Yum? Are you kidding me?  “Yuck” I would say.)

Then I noticed the heading that followed: “Rev Up Your Love Life.” (Okay, vroom, vroom!) “Want to increase your partner’s libido? What about taking a romantic vacation? Get answers to these questions and more on romance and relationships! (Click) “Boomer Dating Advice, Birth Control, Condoms, Painful Sex, Pepper Schwartz, The Naked Truth” (Huh?)

“Pepper Answers Your Questions. Topics covered: Sex with arthritic hips, condoms, initiating sex with a menopausal partner.” (What is this, Geriatric Cosmo? And who is this Pepper anyway?) “Dr. Pepper Schwartz…. Her mission is to improve the lives of aging boomers and the 50+ audience by enhancing their relationships and offering counsel on everything from sex and health issues, to communication and dating as you age.”

My mother taught me not to make fun of people’s names. (I’m doing my best, ma, but Pepper Schwartz? It makes me laugh.) The only other person named Pepper I can recall is Pepper Gomez, a professional wrestler, who appeared on the old “Bedlam From Boston” TV show when I was a kid.

Gomez was called “The Man with the Cast-Iron Stomach” and he once had a match with the legendary Killer Kowalski in which Kowalski was unable to get a grip on that stomach in order to apply his famous “Claw” hold. The frustrated Kowalski then convinced the gullible Gomez to allow him to jump on his stomach from the top of a turnbuckle in the corner of the ring.

Gomez positioned himself flat on his back. Kowalski climbed to the top of the turnbuckle and, villain that he was, promptly jumped on to his neck. Gomez then thrashed about wildly, pointing at his supposedly damaged neck. Had the injury been real and not faked, the Gomez family would have been stuck with some serious medical expenses because professional wrestlers had no health insurance. Gomez was 77 when he died in 2004. Perhaps he was a member of AARP.

So what kind of advice does one get from Pepper Schwartz? Here is one example:

“Q: I have been on a number of dating sites. All the MEN want is someone to cook and clean and wash dirty underwear. NONE of them like baseball. All want to stay at home or watch TV, etc. What happened to men who have a love of life? I am also not supporting someone who sits on his behind all day. If you have any advice for me, just toss it in the ring.”

“A: Where have you been looking: Couchpotatodate.com? Seriously, it might be the way you are picking profiles, because this isn’t my impression of the online-dating world at all. Granted, there are some oddly disconnected characters out there, but they aren’t the majority.

“I really have some chops on your question: Not only am I the relationship expert on one of the larger sites, but the Web is where I found the man I am with now. Before that, when I was 55, I started dating online and fell in love several times with people I regard, even in retrospect, as truly worthy.

“So why aren’t you seeing these guys? I don’t know. Maybe your search criteria isn’t (sic) working for you. Try looking for keywords like “athletic,” “active,” “sports,” “baseball fan,” “independent,” or “hyperactive.” Search for results that filter for guys who like an active life—and aren’t waiting around for Princess Charming to rescue them and set them up in some castle somewhere.”

Where to begin? Am I the only one who sees a few red flags here, in both the question and the answer? I happen to love baseball. I used to be a member of the Baseball Writers Association of America. But frankly, if I were single and I ran into that woman and she asked me if I like baseball, I’d probably just say no. 
 
The burger recipes and advice from Dr. Pepper are followed in the AARP email by “Design & Home Remodeling,” and “Spices That Fight Cancer!”

Last on the list is “What Health Care Reform Means to You.” AARP is paying attention to the wrong Pepper.

Michael can be reached at Michael@zestoforange.com.

By Michael Kaufman

Maybe it won’t happen in my lifetime but one day there will be a plaque on display in the Baseball Hall of Fame in honor of Lester Rodney. Rodney, who died last week at the age of 98, was a sportswriter for the Daily Worker from 1936 to 1958. He played a significant role in breaking the color line in American sports, but, as Dave Zirin aptly noted in a recent column in the Huffington Post, instead of getting the recognition he deserved, “he was largely erased from the books.” Rodney’s writing “is still bracing and ahead of its time,” wrote Zirin.

It was Rodney’s association with the Worker, the Communist Party newspaper that led to his being shunted aside during the McCarthy Era and Cold War period. That has changed in recent years as historians and some of the better modern-day sportswriters (especially Zirin) have taken a closer look at the events leading up to the signing of Jackie Robinson by the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947.

But there is still a long way to go, in part because of the way we Americans have been conditioned to view historic events. Thus, Richard Nixon now gets credit for the Title IX legislation of 1972 that requires gender equity for boys and girls in every educational program that receives federal funding. Nixon, as president, merely signed off on the bill. But that legislation was made possible by people like the little girl in Staten Island who decided she wanted to play Little League baseball and would not take “no” for an answer…. by Bernice Gera, who fought for a chance to become a professional baseball umpire…. by Kathy Switzer, who registered as “K.V. Switzer” to run in the Boston Marathon in 1967 and finished despite an attempt by race official Jock Semple to rip off her numbers and eject her from the event…. and by countless other courageous girls and women.

Title IX did not happen in a vacuum and neither did Branch Rickey’s signing of Robinson. The latter was to have been the subject of my thesis for a graduate course in sociology in 1973. I wrote to Rodney, who was then working as editor of the religion section of a newspaper in California. Like Zirin, as a young sportswriter I found inspiration in Rodney’s old columns and the campaign he and his colleagues launched in the pages of the Worker beginning in 1936 to end what they called “The Crime of the Big Leagues,” namely the systematic exclusion of black players from major-league baseball.

In the years that followed, their articles led to petitions, demonstrations at Ebbets Field and other major-league ballparks, even passage of a resolution by the New York City Council, calling for an end to racial discrimination in baseball. By the time Rickey signed Robinson there was a groundswell of popular support for the move.

“There is so much more than the dates, interviews, statements,” Rodney wrote in his gracious reply. “Those are the bones. The ATMOSPHERE when we started digging into it would seem like a million light years from today to younger folks.” He recalled a 1937 conversation with Burleigh Grimes, then manager of the Dodgers, who had confided his belief that a number of Negro League players had major-league talent. But when Rodney asked if he could quote him, Grimes unhappily replied, “Don’t you know I can’t talk about them? Don’t you know it can NEVER happen, living and traveling together, showers, clubhouse…let’s talk about something else.”

Rodney recounted the unique cooperation between the Worker and the weekly newspapers that served the black community, and the way “none of the other papers — not the liberal Post, Times, whatever, ever touched the subject.” Years later, they would write disparagingly, as Dick Young of the Daily News did in his 1951 book, Roy Campanella, with comments like, “Roy found himself accosted by a man who introduced himself as a reporter from the Daily Worker, communistic organ…” 

“Of course,” wrote Rodney,” both I and Nat Low knew Roy long and well before that.” Low was the Worker’s expert on the Negro Leagues and Rodney credited him for playing “a vital role in the climactic years during World War II” when Rodney was serving in the army.

Soon after receiving Rodney’s letter I had an opportunity to interview Campanella. He smiled warmly at the mention of Low’s name. “How is Nat?” he asked. When I told him that Low had been dead for years he shook his head sadly.

 Since 1962, the Baseball Writers Association of America, which elects players to the Hall of Fame, has conducted a separate ballot to honor a writer with the J.G. Taylor Spink Award. Spink, the driving force of The Sporting News, known during his lifetime as the “Baseball Bible,” was its first recipient. Other recipients include the likes of Ring Lardner, Damon Runyan, Grantland Rice, John T. Carmichael, Red Smith and Shirley Povich. (There are a couple of turkeys in there, too, but we won’t talk about that now.)  

The 1993 Spink Award recipient was Wendell Smith of the Pittsburgh Courier, a weekly newspaper that has served the black community in Pittsburgh since 1910. Smith was honored posthumously in large part for his role in the fight against the color bar, particularly for a series of articles he wrote in 1939, which included an outpouring of anti-segregation statements by white major-league players. The Worker was the only daily newspaper in the country to run the series and Smith wrote to Rodney: “I take this opportunity to congratulate you and the Daily Worker for the way you have joined with us on the current series concerning Negro players in the major leagues, as well as all your past great efforts in this respect.”

It is only a matter of time before Lester Rodney (and perhaps Nat Low as well) will be similarly honored.

Michael can be reached at Michael@zestoforange.com.

By Michael Kaufman

I gave up writing an annual list of New Year wishes around 40 years ago after I killed Johnny Murphy. Murphy was the general manager of the New York Mets at the time and I had wished him “hives” because of the way he had treated Ed Charles, the team’s veteran third baseman following the glorious championship season of 1969.

Charles, known as “the Glider” for his graceful style, had played an important role in the team’s turnaround from laughingstock to success. But he was also its oldest player and soon after the Mets won the World Series, Murphy announced that Charles would not be back in 1970. He would not even be invited to spring training to compete for a job with the team.

For the better part of the next decade the Mets employed a succession of mostly terrible players at third base, including Wayne Garrett, Joe Foy (for whom they traded Amos Otis, a future American League All-Star), and the over-the-hill Jim Fregosi (for whom they traded the still-great Nolan Ryan). I like to think of it as the “Curse of the Glider.”

Of course Johnny Murphy wasn’t around to see any of this. Although I had only wished him hives, he died a couple of days later. So forget about the wishes for others. I’ve been sticking to New Year’s resolutions for myself ever since. The trouble with New Year’s resolutions is that they are often so lofty they are impossible to keep. My resolve is usually shot by the end of January. But the other day I heard an expert psychologist on the radio say that the trick is to keep the resolutions simple and attainable. And I thought of Billy Loes.

Loes was a young starting pitcher for the Brooklyn Dodgers when they won National League pennants in 1952 and 1953 and the World Series in 1955. A sore arm shortened his ensuing career although he went 12-7 for the Baltimore Orioles in 1957 and was named to the American League All-Star team. His career high in wins came in 1953, when he was 14-8 for the Dodgers. He said he would rather win 14 games than be a 20-game winner “because then I’d be expected to do it every year.”

Loes was known both for being outspoken and for his sense of humor. Before the 1952 World Series, Dodgers’ manager Charlie Dressen confronted him: “I see in the paper where you picked the Yankees to beat us in seven games. What’s wrong with you?” “I was misquoted,” Loes protested. “I picked them in six games.”

Loes would later be a thorn in the side of Orioles’ manager Paul Richards, who fined him $100 and suspended him for six days for shoving umpire Larry Napp during an argument over a call on a tag play at home plate. In response, Loes said he would never pitch for Richards again and expressed a desire to be traded. After meeting with Loes at the end of the suspension, Richards said, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s a closed incident. We’ll redeal the cards and wipe the slate clean.” But Loes saw it another way. “I’ll pitch because that’s the way I make my living, not because I think Richards is the greatest man in the world,” he declared. “I don’t have anything against him. I hope he makes a million dollars. But I thought he should have come out on the field in my defense when I was fighting to win a ballgame and I still feel that way.”

Examples of his sense of humor abound. Once, after booting a ground ball in a key situation, a reporter asked him the obvious question of what had happened. Loes replied, “I lost it in the sun!” His explanation after being called for a balk when the ball slipped out of his hand as he was winding up to pitch: “Too much spit on it.” Loes won only three games for the Orioles in 1958. When he showed up for spring training someone asked his goal for 1959. He said, “Win four games.” He finished the 1959 season with a 4-7 record and was promptly traded to the Giants. After being selected by the New York Mets in the 1961 expansion draft, he said, “The Mets is a good thing. They give everybody a job just like the WPA.” Sadly, he never actually pitched a game for the Mets, his final game being with the Giants in 1961.

In the spirit of Billy Loes I hereby make my New Years resolution for 2010: I will lose one pound. Happy New Year to all!

Michael can be reached at michael@zestoforange.com

 By Michael Kaufman

Still searching for that perfect holiday gift for your favorite hipster? Have I got a book for you! The only trouble is that it was published in 1993 and it may not be so easy to find. I just checked on Amazon and there were only two copies listed (1 New and 1 Used).

Nevertheless, it is one of my all-time favorite books. It’s The Opus of Everything in Nothing Flat by Mikhail Horowitz and it is composed of 23 jazz poems and selcted performance pieces, including the likes of “Hitman Haiku,” “Litany of the Dead,” and “Howl for Casey.” But this is the one that sent me to the bookshelf for purposes of this post:

 There’s No Noel There   
      if Gertrude Stein had written A Visit From St. Nicholas 

The night before Xmas was the night before Xmas and
we were staying where we stayed when we stayed at             Xmastime. And in this place, where we stayed when we
stayed where we were staying at Xmastime, we heard
suddenly with much struggling, a clatter, we heard
suddenly with much struggling a great clatter, the sound
of something being clatter, on the roof of this place
where we stayed when we stayed where we were staying
at Xmastime, and we knew that this clatter was a great
one. This one was certainly a great clatter, this one was
certainly clearly expressing something. So we sprang
from our beds at the sound of this clatter, to see what
was the matter with this clatter, to see if the matter was
a great one, since the clatter was a great one, since the
clatter was quite certainly a great one on the roof of this
place where we stayed when we stayed where we were
staying at Xmastime. And we were listening again and
again to reindeer, doing what they were doing on the
roof of this place where we were staying, and we
certainly heard them, and they were quite certainly the
source of the clatter, and the clatter was quite certainly
a great clatter, one that was greatly expressing some-
thing. And it was greatly expressing something being strug-
gling. And there was one who was with the reindeer, and he
too was greatly expressing something being struggling, and he
was doing what he was doing with a great sack on his back,
alack. And he was doing what he was doing with the reindeer.
And the reindeer were doing what they were doing on the roof,
and what they were doing was excreting something.
We did not want them to be doing what they were doing on
the roof of this place where we were staying, so we shot them.
And we shot the one who was struggling with them, and we
shot him again and again. And we were quite certainly clearly
expressing something.

Michael can be reached at michael@zestoforange.com.

By Michael Kaufman

One of the joys of being a reporter is that every once in a while you get to be present when something historic, important,  or just plain entertaining or exciting happens. Then you get to write about it and spread the information. I had some wonderful experiences as a sportswriter, covering events like the 1969 World Series, the Ali-Frazier fight at Madison Square Garden in 1971, and the 1973 World University Games in Moscow. 

I treasure the pictures I have from my interview with Muhammad Ali at his home. I smile at the memory of an interview with Gordie Howe, then still known as “the Babe Ruth of hockey” because he had scored more goals than anyone else in history. (The advent of curved hockey sticks would soon make his record obsolete, much as steroids helped obliterate the home-run records of Ruth and Hank Aaron.) Howe, a fierce competitor known for his physical strength on the ice, was shy and softspoken throughout the interview. He never finished high school, he said, and always admired people who were able to write well.

Not all the memories are good. There was the time I rushed to attend the  press conference at Bachelors III, the Upper East Side bar owned by Joe Namath, star quarterback of the New York Jets. Namath had been ordered by Pete Rozelle, commissioner of the National Football League, to divest himself of his interest in the place, said to be frequented by “social undersirables.” At the press conference, a defiant Namath tearfully announced his retirement, although a deal was soon worked out that allowed him to keep playing.

But what I remember most about that press conference was how we reporters were packed in like sardines while we waited for it to begin. I was somewhere in the middle of the room, hoping I wouldn’t pass out from lack of oxygen, when Namath walked up to the microphone and began to speak. Suddenly the door at the rear burst open and a television crew led by Howard Cosell began pushing its way forward. Namath waited.

Cosell advanced, using his elbows like a blocker in the Roller Derby, occasionally muttering a half-hearted, “Excuse me,” and leaving a trail of grumbling writers in his wake. “Hey!,” they hollered while ducking to avoid getting hit in the head by cameras and lighting equipment. As Cosell passed by me he stomped squarely on my foot. It hurt a lot and I winced. He paused a moment and looked at my face. Then he looked at my press badge to see my name. When he recognized neither he grunted and moved on. I guess I wasn’t important enough to get even a half-hearted, “Excuse me,” from the bastard (may he rest in peace). The top of my foot was badly bruised and hurt for a week.

So what does all this have to do with the title of this post? It is this: Since leaving sportwsriting for medical writing a couple of decades ago I’ve had similar experiences. Sufficeth to say that some medical specialties have their own Howard Cosells. But most of my experiences have been good….and sometimes they are very good indeed.

That was the case December 4-8 in Boston, where I attended the annual meeting of the American Epilepsy Society (AES). The AES meeting draws several thousand neurologists and other healthcare professionals from around the globe, all dedicated to the prevention, treatment, and cure of epilepsy and its complications.

Much progress has been made in recent years. Advanced imaging technologies have provided new insights into how seizures affect the brain. Breakthrough research has led to new adjunctive drug treatments and innovative devices. In one of the most exciting and well-attended sessions at the AES meeting, findings of a pivotal multicenter trial of an implanted programmable responsive neurostimulator were reported. Findings suggest that this little gizmo is safe and effective in adults with certian types of intractable seizures. It is the first implanted device that is able to detect and abort seizures before they happen.

Ah, but here is the rub. All this progress in epilepsy management has not reached most of the 50 million people around the world, including many of the three million in the United States who have the disorder. The consequences are not insignificant, says Steven C. Schachter, MD, president of the AES, because uncontrolled epilepsy leads to a diminished quality of life and a greater risk of disability and death.

“An astonishing three-quarters of the global population with epilepsy get no treatment whatsoever for their seizures,” says Schachter. And, he adds, “While most patients here in the U.S. receive some form of therapy, there are racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic disparities in access to treatment, surgery in particular, and significant under-diagnosis and treatment of associated complications of mood, memory and cognition.”

Even with the plethora of epilepsy therapies now available, says Schachter, “the CDC estimates that at least 45 percent of people with epilepsy here in the U.S. continue to experience seizures. Complete freedom from seizures is not a possibility for everyone who has epilepsy. But it is important for patients with continuing seizures and their healthcare providers to make every effort toward that goal.”

The heavy toll that undiagnosed, untreated and sub-optimally treated epilepsy imposes on the millions of people with epilepsy in the U.S. and worldwide has led the World Health Organization to raise the international campaign against the disorder to its highest level. Closing the wide gap in treatment will require major efforts on the part of governments, as well as healthcare professionals, affected individuals and family members. But, with people’s lives at stake, says Schachter, there is no other course.

Michael can be reached at michael@zestoforange.com.