Nearly every morning, just as I'm beginning to lose myself in an Isley Brothers' song or remove a bookmark, the crowded subway platform I'm standing on parts, and everyone finds their own way to avoid one man. On most days, he is wearing many gray sweaters, black sweatpants with the bottoms tucked deep into long white tube socks, that are stuffed into tightly-laced black army boots. Sometimes he is wearing a large, hooded, brown and black fur jacket over that get-up. But on a select few occasions, he can be seen wearing a many long gowns, a long Santa Claus beard with matching white hair, a wizard's hat, and he is carrying a long staff like that of Moses.
On days that he is dressed normally, he yells at air. He complains about the behavior of children on their way to school. He once told a man "MOVE or I'm going to sit on your DAMN leg" before sitting next to him. The man stood up and moved away. He peers through his half-inch thick glasses at the advertisements in the station with his nose touching them. He looks into the garbage cans from the side, from where the transit workers TAKE the garbage.
When he is "the wizard" or whoever he feels he is, he wanders about the station. He taps the train doors with his staff as if he is opening them with magic. He attracts attention. And I wonder about this man, but for so long, he's made me wonder about Howard Hughes.
In examining the life of the late Howard Hughes, made famous by Martin Scorsese's masterpiece film, "The Aviator," Howard Hughes was a man of, for lack of a better term, obsessive compulsion. His behavior represented the very extreme of the disorder. But he was wealthy. He was wealthy because of his talents, his will to succeed and earn in multiple industries. But at his worse, he is no better the man I see every morning. There are things that he did that he could not control. He felt the terror of worry if he tried to stop them. He did not know why.
Until I was a late-teenager, I lived under the fear of obsessive compulsion. I was obsessed with numbers, even ones. Doing things four times. Symmetry. You could split fours. Twos were ones that could be split. It was perfect. It spiraled.
I used religion to scare it out of myself. "God doesn't like that superstition crap" I'd say, and by now, I really don't care anymore. Yeah it's cool when things spiral, fold, are perfect. But there are things that aren't that are just a beautiful.
But there were people then who loved me. They put up with the twos and fours and eights of things. They understood. They helped. They accepted. They made sure that someone loved me so I wouldn't frighten people on the subways. Now wait until I get rich like Howard Hughes.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Commish doesn't want steroids blame
ESPN.com news services
Feb 17, 2009
In the volatile wake of Alex Rodriguez's admission that he used performance-enhancing substances earlier this decade, Bud Selig remains bothered by the suggestion that he is to blame for Major League Baseball's steroids era."I don't want to hear the commissioner turned a blind eye to this or he didn't care about it," Selig told Newsday in a Monday phone interview. "That annoys the you-know-what out of me. You bet I'm sensitive to the criticism."The reason I'm so frustrated is, if you look at our whole body of work, I think we've come farther than anyone ever dreamed possible," he said, adding, "I honestly don't know how anyone could have done more than we've already done."
Rodriguez's admission, which came last week in an interview with ESPN, has been an overwhelming undercurrent to the start of spring training. Three days after the New York Yankees' star third baseman said he was "sorry and deeply regretful," Selig said Rodriguez shamed the game and "will have to live with the damage he has done to his name and reputation."Selig told Newsday he would watch Rodriguez's news conference Tuesday -- A-Rod's Yankees teammates and hundreds of media members will attend -- with interest."Let's just say I'm going to monitor that situation closely,'' Selig told Newsday.
Following baseball's work stoppage in 1994 that forced cancellation of the World Series, the home run chase of 1998 between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa was considered the point that completed the sport's recovery.But the mid-to-late 1990s also is looked at as the launching point of players bulking up, and steroids and other PEDs had much to do with that. Rodriguez admitted using banned substances from 2001 to 2003 while playing for the Texas Rangers."I'm not sure I would have done anything differently" at that point in time, Selig told Newsday. "A lot of people say we should have done this or that, and I understand that. They ask me, 'How could you not know?' and I guess in the retrospect of history, that's not an unfair question. But we learned and we've done something about it. When I look back at where we were in '98 and where we are today, I'm proud of the progress we've made."
When labor negotiations between owners and the players' association commenced in 2002, Selig said he got behind a tougher drug policy but, fearing the lack of an agreement with the union would force another work stoppage, settled for a less rigid policy."Starting in 1995, I tried to institute a steroid policy," Selig told Newsday. "Needless to say, it was met with strong resistance. We were fought by the union every step of the way."Players and owners did not agree to a joint drug program until August 2002, and testing with punishment didn't start until 2004."It is important to remember that these recent revelations relate to pre-program activity," Selig said last week. "Under our current drug program, if you are caught using steroids and/or amphetamines, you will be punished. Since 2005, every player who has tested positive for steroids has been suspended for as much as 50 games."Selig also said he consulted with several team officials he trusted -- Bob Melvin, manager of the Arizona Diamondbacks who at the time was a coach with the Milwaukee Brewers; Atlanta Braves president John Schuerholz; and Yankees general manager Brian Cashman -- to get their take on how deep a problem the sport was facing."They all told me none of them ever saw it in the clubhouses and that their players never spoke about it," Selig told Newsday. "[Padres CEO] Sandy Alderson, as good a baseball man as you'll find, was convinced it was the bat. Others were convinced it was the ball. So a lot of people didn't know."
Information from The Associated Press was used in this report
Now, believing these quotes, this spoken trash from Bud Selig is one's own choice, but I don't. I've never believed in or trusted this man to lead this league. This problem is entirely his fault. What is never said or spoken is that Bud Selig is an owner who thinks like an owner. He now thinks FOR the owners. Owners are men of gimmicks and fan appeasement. They're obsessed with parity. With good games. Giveaways. The Wild-Card. Screaming fans who buy multiple ten-dollar beers and never remember the games. They will, at the lowest level of their thinking, bend, twist and change the game so that fans smile, and pay.
And people have been paying like maniacs since Sammy Steroid and Muscle Mcgwire began to pound pitches into ping pong balls, and then small white grenades that exploded though stadium seats, bounced like deflected gunshots from aisle stairs, and sent many to the hospital.
We loved it. We loved steroids. We thought Brady Anderson's side burns were just darling. We argued that Greg Vaughn was an elite power hitter. We thought that Ken Caminiti throwing lasers from first to third from his butt was just a guy with a great arm.
So we went.
And Bud Selig and the owners profited. All the while selling us a new-and-improved game that smelled too much like football and basketball. The wild-card was a desperate attempt to keep up with football (so obvious in fact that the NFL changed its own playoff format and is worse off for doing so). Because it's made the game money, Selig says it was good. Steroids are what made the game money. Steroids are what fueld Nike's "chicks dig the long-ball" campaign. Steroids are what gave us the term "chasing history." Steroids inflated the contracts. It is one thing to be paid according to your market value and being matched against other current players, it is another thing to be paid according to your standing in the record books, and being matched against hall-of-famers.
Selig profited, and just like a profiteer, he brags. He expects the wealth to have been shared.
I made money-you were entertained. Is there more you needed?
Yes, Bud. We new you were perpetuating this behavior. We saw how quick you were to follow Sammy and Muscle during their chase for the record.
We said, hey, if that asshole Bud is going, and smiling, then this MUST be alright.
We saw you not follow Bonds when he was chasing Henry Aaron's home run record.
We said, if Bud Selig doesn't like the guy, then Bonds must be a real asshole.
But guess what? They were all on steroids. Something that doesn't bother me personally, but bothers many, and the same improved game that Selig is selling us, is the reason he's to blame for this whole mess.
ESPN.com news services
Feb 17, 2009
In the volatile wake of Alex Rodriguez's admission that he used performance-enhancing substances earlier this decade, Bud Selig remains bothered by the suggestion that he is to blame for Major League Baseball's steroids era."I don't want to hear the commissioner turned a blind eye to this or he didn't care about it," Selig told Newsday in a Monday phone interview. "That annoys the you-know-what out of me. You bet I'm sensitive to the criticism."The reason I'm so frustrated is, if you look at our whole body of work, I think we've come farther than anyone ever dreamed possible," he said, adding, "I honestly don't know how anyone could have done more than we've already done."
Rodriguez's admission, which came last week in an interview with ESPN, has been an overwhelming undercurrent to the start of spring training. Three days after the New York Yankees' star third baseman said he was "sorry and deeply regretful," Selig said Rodriguez shamed the game and "will have to live with the damage he has done to his name and reputation."Selig told Newsday he would watch Rodriguez's news conference Tuesday -- A-Rod's Yankees teammates and hundreds of media members will attend -- with interest."Let's just say I'm going to monitor that situation closely,'' Selig told Newsday.
Following baseball's work stoppage in 1994 that forced cancellation of the World Series, the home run chase of 1998 between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa was considered the point that completed the sport's recovery.But the mid-to-late 1990s also is looked at as the launching point of players bulking up, and steroids and other PEDs had much to do with that. Rodriguez admitted using banned substances from 2001 to 2003 while playing for the Texas Rangers."I'm not sure I would have done anything differently" at that point in time, Selig told Newsday. "A lot of people say we should have done this or that, and I understand that. They ask me, 'How could you not know?' and I guess in the retrospect of history, that's not an unfair question. But we learned and we've done something about it. When I look back at where we were in '98 and where we are today, I'm proud of the progress we've made."
When labor negotiations between owners and the players' association commenced in 2002, Selig said he got behind a tougher drug policy but, fearing the lack of an agreement with the union would force another work stoppage, settled for a less rigid policy."Starting in 1995, I tried to institute a steroid policy," Selig told Newsday. "Needless to say, it was met with strong resistance. We were fought by the union every step of the way."Players and owners did not agree to a joint drug program until August 2002, and testing with punishment didn't start until 2004."It is important to remember that these recent revelations relate to pre-program activity," Selig said last week. "Under our current drug program, if you are caught using steroids and/or amphetamines, you will be punished. Since 2005, every player who has tested positive for steroids has been suspended for as much as 50 games."Selig also said he consulted with several team officials he trusted -- Bob Melvin, manager of the Arizona Diamondbacks who at the time was a coach with the Milwaukee Brewers; Atlanta Braves president John Schuerholz; and Yankees general manager Brian Cashman -- to get their take on how deep a problem the sport was facing."They all told me none of them ever saw it in the clubhouses and that their players never spoke about it," Selig told Newsday. "[Padres CEO] Sandy Alderson, as good a baseball man as you'll find, was convinced it was the bat. Others were convinced it was the ball. So a lot of people didn't know."
Information from The Associated Press was used in this report
Now, believing these quotes, this spoken trash from Bud Selig is one's own choice, but I don't. I've never believed in or trusted this man to lead this league. This problem is entirely his fault. What is never said or spoken is that Bud Selig is an owner who thinks like an owner. He now thinks FOR the owners. Owners are men of gimmicks and fan appeasement. They're obsessed with parity. With good games. Giveaways. The Wild-Card. Screaming fans who buy multiple ten-dollar beers and never remember the games. They will, at the lowest level of their thinking, bend, twist and change the game so that fans smile, and pay.
And people have been paying like maniacs since Sammy Steroid and Muscle Mcgwire began to pound pitches into ping pong balls, and then small white grenades that exploded though stadium seats, bounced like deflected gunshots from aisle stairs, and sent many to the hospital.
We loved it. We loved steroids. We thought Brady Anderson's side burns were just darling. We argued that Greg Vaughn was an elite power hitter. We thought that Ken Caminiti throwing lasers from first to third from his butt was just a guy with a great arm.
So we went.
And Bud Selig and the owners profited. All the while selling us a new-and-improved game that smelled too much like football and basketball. The wild-card was a desperate attempt to keep up with football (so obvious in fact that the NFL changed its own playoff format and is worse off for doing so). Because it's made the game money, Selig says it was good. Steroids are what made the game money. Steroids are what fueld Nike's "chicks dig the long-ball" campaign. Steroids are what gave us the term "chasing history." Steroids inflated the contracts. It is one thing to be paid according to your market value and being matched against other current players, it is another thing to be paid according to your standing in the record books, and being matched against hall-of-famers.
Selig profited, and just like a profiteer, he brags. He expects the wealth to have been shared.
I made money-you were entertained. Is there more you needed?
Yes, Bud. We new you were perpetuating this behavior. We saw how quick you were to follow Sammy and Muscle during their chase for the record.
We said, hey, if that asshole Bud is going, and smiling, then this MUST be alright.
We saw you not follow Bonds when he was chasing Henry Aaron's home run record.
We said, if Bud Selig doesn't like the guy, then Bonds must be a real asshole.
But guess what? They were all on steroids. Something that doesn't bother me personally, but bothers many, and the same improved game that Selig is selling us, is the reason he's to blame for this whole mess.
Monday, February 16, 2009
For the record...
If we follow Bud Selig's lead to expunge the records of players who took PEDs, then we should look into eliminating some other things that are hurting sports.
-Eliminate all things within each sport that appease fans who were never professional athletes and don't understand that to them, sports is just entertainment with a score.
Take away co-MVPs
Take away crowd noise (home teams shouldn't be able to cheat the game by having their fans scream)
Take away fan polls and blogs
Take away opinion because we have none, we're not even smart enough to save an economy, but we know everything there is to know about play selection and managing time-outs.
Make it corporate. Make it known that the non-technical aspect of sports, the one that ESPN tries to fill up with splenda so we won't recognize it, is unrealistic. Since it already is unrealistic without that being explained to us, tell us it is.
Tell us that Paul Pierce fakes injuries and flops for attention.
Tell us that ESPN and other organizations put shows like NFL Matchup, shows for intelligent fans, at 7am on a sunday, but Outside the Lines, a show of backstories and sensationality, at 10:30am when both coasts can watch.
Tell us why. Explain to us that the element of sports we care about isn't real. Explain why I live in a huge city, with multiple newspapers, but people still look to ESPN for info on their local teams, even though so many people there carry a Boston bias. So New Yorkers walk around with a Red Sox fans opinion of the Yankees (e.g. Peter Gammons) or a Celitcs fan's opinion of the Knicks, or a Patriots fan's opinion of the Giants.
Tell them.
Tell them they're being herded, fed garbage, and left to think with that sketchy knowledge.
Change the name of Sports Illustrated to "Sports Fabricated"
Erase the records, then tell us that the laser-light shows and Dwight Howard's limited skill set are what the people want.
Tell them, see if they've left anyone with enough intelligence to understand it.
-Eliminate all things within each sport that appease fans who were never professional athletes and don't understand that to them, sports is just entertainment with a score.
Take away co-MVPs
Take away crowd noise (home teams shouldn't be able to cheat the game by having their fans scream)
Take away fan polls and blogs
Take away opinion because we have none, we're not even smart enough to save an economy, but we know everything there is to know about play selection and managing time-outs.
Make it corporate. Make it known that the non-technical aspect of sports, the one that ESPN tries to fill up with splenda so we won't recognize it, is unrealistic. Since it already is unrealistic without that being explained to us, tell us it is.
Tell us that Paul Pierce fakes injuries and flops for attention.
Tell us that ESPN and other organizations put shows like NFL Matchup, shows for intelligent fans, at 7am on a sunday, but Outside the Lines, a show of backstories and sensationality, at 10:30am when both coasts can watch.
Tell us why. Explain to us that the element of sports we care about isn't real. Explain why I live in a huge city, with multiple newspapers, but people still look to ESPN for info on their local teams, even though so many people there carry a Boston bias. So New Yorkers walk around with a Red Sox fans opinion of the Yankees (e.g. Peter Gammons) or a Celitcs fan's opinion of the Knicks, or a Patriots fan's opinion of the Giants.
Tell them.
Tell them they're being herded, fed garbage, and left to think with that sketchy knowledge.
Change the name of Sports Illustrated to "Sports Fabricated"
Erase the records, then tell us that the laser-light shows and Dwight Howard's limited skill set are what the people want.
Tell them, see if they've left anyone with enough intelligence to understand it.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Love St(r)uck
The last time Valentine's day fell on a Saturday I had just turned twenty-three, and had no true concept of the inner-workings and politics of the day. I honestly hadn't thought about it much. It always mustered this intense feeling of certain lonliness.
That one person I wanted to attract on that day will still not be attracted to me.
So that day, as on others, I cared, because I was seeing someone, it was new, and those sorts of things usually make for many smiles and many good feelings on Valentine's day.
It was also the day of the Slam Dunk contest, and like a child, I was alotted time to watch it by my girlfriend at the time.
But that day I bought things. I ran to many corners of the city to find things that I believed she might like. For a boy, on a budget, I tried my best, and I was thoughtful. The girls at her job thought so.
She didn't.
The takeout was soggy, the dunk contest got me too excited, the sex was complacent, and we argued for an hour the next morning about me not wanting to make an hour-train ride to canal street to escort her to work by eight a.m.
She left the flowers I gave her unopened on my sofa.
She didn't care that morning that the Yankees had signed Alex Rodriguez in the middle of the night.
Of all the empty-feeling experiences in my life, none have felt more empty or memorable. I didn't even wish I was spending it with another woman, I wished, desperately, that I didn't care about Valentines's day.
So I stopped.
I stopped pretending to even like the day, and for five years since, I've been nice to some on the day, devoid of reciprocity on the day with my girlfriends, and mostly sour in mood and body language. I was only happy two years ago when there was a snowstorm and no one could go out. No one could celebrate. No one traded oral sex for jewelry or flowers or a dinner at a crowded restaurant. People had their self-respect.
But last night I walked around alone, wishing that I could have done something for someone instead of watching the Dunk Contest at a bar. The people there looked miserable like I did.
They cared more about Dwight Howard than each other. They all slept alone last night the way I did.
But the day is only significant to me because of the date. It is a day for fakeness, and cutesy and sexy. A day for the senses. For smells and looks and surprises. A day for tongues and skin, a day to hate yourself, then love your life. It is, an affirming holiday for those who are not like me at all.
That one person I wanted to attract on that day will still not be attracted to me.
So that day, as on others, I cared, because I was seeing someone, it was new, and those sorts of things usually make for many smiles and many good feelings on Valentine's day.
It was also the day of the Slam Dunk contest, and like a child, I was alotted time to watch it by my girlfriend at the time.
But that day I bought things. I ran to many corners of the city to find things that I believed she might like. For a boy, on a budget, I tried my best, and I was thoughtful. The girls at her job thought so.
She didn't.
The takeout was soggy, the dunk contest got me too excited, the sex was complacent, and we argued for an hour the next morning about me not wanting to make an hour-train ride to canal street to escort her to work by eight a.m.
She left the flowers I gave her unopened on my sofa.
She didn't care that morning that the Yankees had signed Alex Rodriguez in the middle of the night.
Of all the empty-feeling experiences in my life, none have felt more empty or memorable. I didn't even wish I was spending it with another woman, I wished, desperately, that I didn't care about Valentines's day.
So I stopped.
I stopped pretending to even like the day, and for five years since, I've been nice to some on the day, devoid of reciprocity on the day with my girlfriends, and mostly sour in mood and body language. I was only happy two years ago when there was a snowstorm and no one could go out. No one could celebrate. No one traded oral sex for jewelry or flowers or a dinner at a crowded restaurant. People had their self-respect.
But last night I walked around alone, wishing that I could have done something for someone instead of watching the Dunk Contest at a bar. The people there looked miserable like I did.
They cared more about Dwight Howard than each other. They all slept alone last night the way I did.
But the day is only significant to me because of the date. It is a day for fakeness, and cutesy and sexy. A day for the senses. For smells and looks and surprises. A day for tongues and skin, a day to hate yourself, then love your life. It is, an affirming holiday for those who are not like me at all.
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