Knick Knacks: Jeremy Lin's Race To The Top

Article first published as Knick Knacks: Jeremy Lin's Race To The Top on Blogcritics.



After Jeremy Lin and his Knicks (is there any disputing that they are his team right now?) defeated the Dallas Mavericks at Madison Square Garden 104-97, with Lin having a great game (28 points, 14 assists, 5 steals), that brought the Knicks back to .500 (16-16), but they and their fans are still up in the stratosphere. Defeating the defending champs only confirms the general mood in New York that this team has not only playoffs in its future but perhaps even its own championship, and much of the credit is being heaped on Lin's six foot- three inch shoulders.

The unfortunate byproduct of all this is that Jeremy Lin, being a Chinese-American, has been the target of some inappropriate comments and headlines (a while back the New York Post  had the headline "Amasian" to describe Lin's performance). ESPN editor Anthony Federico was fired for using "chink in the armor" in a headline, and anchor Max Bretos was suspended for using the same slur when talking to Knicks' icon Walt Frazier on the air, asking Clyde, "If there is a chink in the armor, where can he (Lin) improve his game?" What the heck is going on at ESPN?

In general the - and I hate to do this but I have succumbed too - LINsanity of all this is a combination of hysteria and happiness of Knicks fans (many in the media including the fired Federico) and the fact that many people do not see race as an issue. However, the sensitivity to race should always be a factor in the way we handle all matters, especially for people who are in the public domain. To use the word "chink" while referring to a person of Chinese descent is appallingly offensive to say the least, and if both Federico and Bretos did so innocently as they claim, then they are still guilty of being incredibly ignorant.

Sadly, race still matters in this country no matter how much we wish it did not. Yes, it is 2012 and we have an African-American president, but that has in many ways magnified the issue as still pertinent. Has any sitting president been under fire more than Barack Obama for a plethora of things that have nothing to do with him being president? People have questioned where he was born, his parentage, his upbringing, his background, his education, his religion, and his marriage more than any other president in history. All of this only exacerbates the need for a continuing discourse on race in this country, not only for our own citizenry but because the world is watching, and no doubt are taking note of how poorly this president has been treated.

Some people have compared Jeremy Lin and Jackie Robinson, but even that can have offensive connotations. Certainly the impact of Robinson joining the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947 had an extraordinary social impact that went far beyond the baseball field, and Mr. Robinson had to suffer the slings and arrows of his good fortune, putting up with denigration and intolerance and threats. To his credit, Mr. Robinson held to his principals and beliefs and was a damn fine baseball player, cutting a path for others who would follow him in all sports and all walks of life. To compare him to a modern player, no matter what race, may seem to diminish all that Robinson had to overcome, whether intentional or not.

The impact of Jeremy Lin on his sport and society will never be the same magnitude as Robinson's, but it does open the door hopefully for more Asian athletes who wish to play in the NBA, and it has started a dialogue (no matter how uncomfortable at times) about the perception of Asian athletes and Asian people in general. The ESPN case (and even the lampooning of it on this week's Saturday Night Live broadcast) shows that (apologies to Robert Frost) we have miles to go before we can sleep in regards to race relations in this country, whether it is about Asian people or any other race for that matter.

As for now, Jeremy Lin is King of New York (as per today's cover of the New York Daily News).  His success has been most welcome by Knicks fans and most New Yorkers. Wouldn't it be nice to one day have the conversation be about how great a ballplayer Jeremy Lin is and not how he is a great Asian-American ballplayer? As I said, miles to go before we can sleep.

Photo Credit - Daily News

Hope Springs Eternal for Old Brooklyn Dodgers Fans

Article first published as Hope Springs Eternal for Old Brooklyn Dodgers Fans on Blogcritics.

For old Brooklyn Dodgers fans, 1957 is not long ago and far away; it is like yesterday. That is when their team packed up and went to Los Angeles. To them these last fifty-four years have been sort of a long hiatus. Some became NY Mets fans in 1962, and others chose to pull up stakes and follow their Dodgers to California, but there still are those who cling to the mystique of the Brooklyn Dodgers, who believe that a new field could spring up somewhere in the borough and that their Dodgers will be coming home.

Admittedly, they will tell you it is a long shot, but they still keep dreaming of that day. Recently, with the financial troubles of Dodger owner Frank McCourt in the news, these fans have something to stoke the flames of their kindled dream. They hear rumors of Major League Baseball taking over the Dodgers, and some will come out and tell you that is the beginning of the Dodgers coming home to Brooklyn.

While I don't take much stock in these fantasies, I have learned that these Dodgers fans are sometimes so earnest and determined that perhaps anything is possible. They talk about the Dodgers building a new field on the spot where Ebbets Field used to be. The existing housing on the site is not seen as an impediment; they are certain eminent domain can be used to get that new stadium built.


Others think the Dodgers could share Citi Field with the Mets. "Why not?" they ask. The New York Mets and The New York Yankees once shared Shea Stadium for two seasons while the old Yankee Stadium was being rebuilt, so anything is possible. They see the fact that Citi Field was built to resemble Ebbets Field as an omen, yet another reason why the Dodgers will be coming home.

Even if MLB does take over the Dodgers, I doubt that Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig would ever condone having three teams in one town. A long time ago New York had three teams, but these days I don't imagine that would work for most people. New Yorkers might be pleased, but there are many other towns looking for a MLB franchise.

It does break my heart to listen to these old Dodgers fans talking. In between hearing them mention names like Branca, Hodges, Reese, and Robinson, they will discuss the "what ifs" they have been discussing since 1957. They know what happened but still can't believe it. As a Mets fan, I kind of understand their hopes and dreams and know what it is like to be kicked in the teeth again and again by the team you love.

So for the record, Brooklyn Dodgers fans, your team is not coming home. It is staying in LA for now and I am sure for many years to come. Hold on to the dream if it makes you happy. I still keep thinking about the Mets being in contention this year, so I know all about impossible causes.

If it makes you feel any better, there is the one thing we Mets fans and Brooklyn Dodgers fans have in common: the hope of next year. Mets fans can dream of an injury free season and a chance for the play-offs; Brooklyn Dodgers fans can keep hoping for that miracle of a return engagement. It probably will never happen, but back in 1955 after Brooklyn beat the Yankees in the World Series, did anyone ever think their team was moving to LA?

Keep dreaming, old Dodgers fans, and hang in there!

Photo Credits:
Ebbetts Field - nyc.gov.
Citi Field - NY Daily News

Mets Mess: Miles to Go Before I Weep

Article first published as Mets Mess: Miles to Go Before I Weep on Blogcritics.

With apologies to the great poet Robert Frost, as a New York Mets fan I feel like I am in that snowy wood watching it fill up with snow. Of course, that is a metaphor for death, and this 2011 Mets' season seems like it has every reason to sleep with the fishes. Still, I keep telling myself, "I'm a Met fan; the Mets are born from losing." Yes, we are, but there has to be some point when we all give up, right? I'm not there yet, but it is truly a struggle these days.

Current manager Terry Collins went wild this week, ranting and raving to the team in a closed door meeting. We can imagine what was said about them being pathetic, finding every way to lose, looking worse than kids playing T-ball at the park. You get the idea. While I understand what made Collins rant, I question the logic of going that route. It seems like half the locker room must be called up from AAA Buffalo these days with all the injuries, and yelling at these kids may not be the best way to handle things.

I recall that my grandfather always called his old Brooklyn Dodgers "bums" (so did half of New York back in those days). I never saw the Brooklyn Dodgers play because they left town before I was born, but I am told that Pop used to sit in front of the TV and get upset as the Dodgers found another way to lose a game. "They're nothing but a bunch of bums!" he would holler, shaking his fist at the TV set. Now, as a Mets fan, I more than understand his feelings.

When the Mets were new in this town, they were always losing. With their Dodgers pedigree, I always say they were born from losing. That Dodger "blue" certainly manifested and maintained at Shea Stadium what had been wrought in Ebbets Field, and Dodgers fans became Mets fans even with old Casey Stengel (former manager of their arch enemies the New York Yankees) as their new skipper. I can only imagine how Pop and my uncles must have felt seeing Stengel in a Mets uniform, but they went with what they had and endured because they were National League fans and could never root for the team with the straight NY on the baseball cap.

Terry Collins should really become a student of Mets history, particularly of old Stengel. I think all the ranting and raving in the world will only get you so far, but why Stengel became beloved by Mets fans was because he never lost his temper or his sense of humor. Today if you visit the Mets museum in Citi Field, one of the highlights is the Casey Stengel statue. The image of the stooped and broken Stengel, looking almost like the statue of Winston Churchill in London overlooking the disintegrating British Empire, is a reminder that the Mets struggles in the past were made easier by the right guy at the helm. Collins needs to take a page from Stengel's book and fast.

As for many Mets fans, they are starting to lose patience with the 2011 Mets. Getting tickets to a Mets game (and I was only offered them the other day) is kind of like getting tickets to sail on the Titanic - after you already know it has hit an iceberg. Many people are going to decline the offer, but some of us might just slip on life jackets and take a chance. There is a good possibility (like in last night's game) that the team will find a way to lose, but it's hard to stay afloat with all that seawater rushing in.

I am not ready to give up on the Mets; in fact, I will never give up on the Mets. I will not - like many fans did in the mid-1990s - turn away from the team and become a Yankees fan. That mentality has nothing to do with being a fan but rather with being what Thomas Paine called a "summer soldier" or "sunshine patriot." Fans who gravitate to teams simply because they are winning do miss the whole concept of loyalty and fraternity, but that's another story.

So I am in no way giving up on the 2011 Mets, even if most of the time it seems they have given up on themselves. I will not shed any tears because that will not change anything; I will continue to watch the games and root for them because that's what real fans do. Sometimes it will be painful to watch, and I may switch the channels and watch golf, tennis, or even old episodes of M*A*S*H to give myself a break, but I'll go back and check on them soon enough.

Hang in there, true Mets fans, things will get better. Wright, Davis, and Santana are coming; yeah, I know, so is Christmas. I just hope we don't have to wait that long until they return.

Photo Credit: Collins-Daily News; Stengel- Sports Illustrated

Mets Play the Giants and Dodgers at Home: One Big Dysfunctional Family

Article first published as Mets Play the Giants and Dodgers at Home: Just One Big Dysfunctional Family on Blogcritics.

This week the New York Mets lost two out of three games to the San Francisco Giants at Citi Field. Tonight they start a three game series at home against the Los Angeles Dodgers. These games are sure to stir passions, bring back memories, and are clearly proof that these three teams form a National League baseball family that rivals the feuding Hatfields and McCoys back in the days of old.

Some Mets fans were up in arms because, during Wednesday night's loss to the Giants, there seemed to be more Giants fans in the stadium than the home crowd. Decked out in Giants gear, these fans were boisterous and certainly annoyed the Mets faithful.



Now tonight the Dodgers begin a three game series at Citi Field. There has to be even more tension in this case. Anyone who has visited Citi Field knows that the Jackie Robinson Rotunda (named in honor of the legendary Brooklyn Dodger) is the gateway to the stadium. The Mets celebrate their Dodger roots in this magnificent hall, but the conflicting feelings abound for former Brooklyn Dodgers fans who still believe in the Bums that once occupied Brooklyn’s Ebbetts Field.



In fact, Citi Field itself is an homage to Brooklyn baseball, with the exterior design inspired by the old Ebbetts Field architecture. Clearly the Mets were tipping their caps to the senior members of the New York National League family here, but they also do that every game of the year - wearing Dodger blue and Giant orange on their uniforms.

I have heard old Dodgers fans say, "I'm a Mets fan except when the Dodgers are in town." Fifty-four years later they still have not given up the faith, hoping somehow or some way that their beloved team will find its way home again. Some Giants fans will say similar things. Until that unlikely time occurs, when these teams play in Queens it brings back fond memories and causes some misty eyes still after all this time.

The young gun Mets have played forty-nine seasons now, so they are not exactly little anymore, still they are the junior members of the New York National League club, and it seems sometimes that they are always fighting ghosts, and that is usually a no-win situation to be sure.

Tonight the Dodgers take their place in the visitor's dugout, but one thing could help those old Dodger fans root for the Mets this time: former Yankee Don Mattingly is now the team's skipper. Unlike Joe Torre, who had a Mets pedigree, Mattingly can only be associated with the Yanks. If that is not enough to push an old Dodgers fan to root against his team for the Mets, I don't know what will work.

The Mets, Giants, and Dodgers and their fans are all part of a big dysfunctional baseball family. So there may be bickering, but in the end they will settle down, the players will run onto the field, and the fans will pass the Crackerjacks. In between a few elbows and jabs, they will get to what is most important: playing baseball and knowing that they are all part of the same bloodline. As my grandpa used to say, “Mets orange and blue blood is thicker than Yankee blueblood any day.”

Let’s go Mets!

Photo Credits:

Citi Field - NY Daily News
Ebbets Field - nyc.gov

A Fond Farewell to the Duke of Flatbush

Article first published as A Fond Farewell to the Duke of Flatbush on Blogcritics.

I never had the privilege of seeing Duke Snider play in person, but I mourn his loss because of what he meant to old Dodgers fans like my grandfather and uncles, who then became Mets fans like I am today. Of all the players they talked about, none seemed to loom as large as Edwin Donald Snider.


The Duke played during what many baseball fans still see as the golden era, and that is especially true for fans here in New York City. While Boston may have had Ted Williams and St. Louis had Stan Musial, NYC was blessed with three superstar players: Willie Mays of the Giants, Mickey Mantle of the Yankees, and Duke Snider of the Dodgers. Can you imagine being a fan at that time with this amazing competition going on?

Of course, I was told of the ongoing debate among New York fans about which team had the best center fielder. It is without question that my family felt that in no uncertain terms that it was the Duke, though they seemed to acknowledge that the other two were pretty fine players too.

Pop mentioned that there were always rumors of a trade: Mantle for Mays, or Snider for Mays, and so on. The one thing he and my uncles dreaded most was the prospect of the Duke going to the Bronx for Mantle. He said that it wasn't even the thought of Mantle as a Dodger that bothered him as much as the Duke becoming a Yankee: that was blasphemy.

Besides hearing about the old Dodger stories as a kid, the thing that brought Duke Snider into my world was Terry Cashman's iconic song, "Talkin' Baseball" and it's famous line "Especially Willie, Mickey, and the Duke." That song came out in 1981 and hit a chord with many baseball fans, and though it is dated now, there is still the resonance in its reflection of the impact of baseball on American life.

Duke Snider played one season for the Mets (1963), seventeen seasons overall, and played in six postseasons. He had 407 career homers and 11 in the postseason. His greatest year was 1955 when he led his Dodgers 42 homers, 136 RBI, and a .309 average. This would be the one and only time that the Dodgers beat the hated Yankees in the World Series, with the Duke hitting 4 homers and knocking in 7 runs.

There is no understanding the euphoria Dodgers fans felt that year they beat the Yankees, and Duke Snider was an integral part of that victory. He and the rest of those Boys of Summer managed to do the unbelievable, endearing themselves forever in the hearts of their fans because this time the Bums beat the Yanks. According to Pop, the party went on for days (at least what he could remember of it after "closing all the bars in Brooklyn").

So we can mourn the loss of Duke Snider at 84, but we can also see it as the final piece of the reunion of those Boys of Summer in that great baseball park somewhere on the other side. I can picture him walking onto the field and seeing Gil Hodges taking balls at first base, Jackie Robinson flipping the ball to Pee Wee Reese to turn a double play, and they and all the rest of the starting players on that the team who have passed on walk over to greet him. Catcher Roy Campenella comes up to him, hands him a ball, and they all decide to play nine. Talk about a field of dreams!

Duke Snider passed away on Sunday, Hall of Famer and, as Pop used to say, "an all around good guy." Rest in peace, Duke!

Photo Credit: espn.go.com

NY Mets & Madoff Mess: Wilpons Considers Selling a Stake in the Club

First published in Blogcritics

NY Mets & Madoff Mess: Wilpons Are Selling More Than a Stake in the Club

The long reach of ponzi schemer Bernie Madoff included Fred Wilpon, owner of the New York Mets. The numbers here are insignificant because they are so astronomical, but let's suffice it to say that Wilpon's former pal is still affecting the man and the team he owns. Those bilked out of their savings are seeking to get assets from Wilpon because he invested money with Madoff and actually made a profit. Can he still be considered a victim? Apparently not by those injured parties who seek justice anywhere they can get it.

Now it is reported that Wilpon is considering selling up to a quarter stake in the team. This is because of the lawsuits that could come from Madoff's victims (most of whom did not make money with Madoff the way Wilpon did). There are lots of people interested in buying into the Mets, but therein lies the biggest problem. Up to this point the Mets have been owned exclusively by the Wilpons (since 2002). Not even the Steinbrenner family can say that about the Yankees (they own less than 50% of the team).

Some Mets fans might argue that the Wilpons haven't done such a great job lately, so maybe some new blood is needed. They could argue that the Steinbrenners built a winner with lots of other fingers in the pie, but we also know that old George (and now his sons) controlled that team anyway. So maybe we Mets fans shouldn't worry all that much.

Still, I am worried because Wilpon has deep Mets roots: they go all the way down and curl around the carcass of Ebbetts Field. Wilpon is a dear friend of Sandy Koufax, the Dodger pitching legend. The Brooklyn Dodger's blue blood and the New York Giant's orange blood were the transfusion that gave life to the Mets, a hodgepodge team that was the Frankenstein monster of baseball for a while. Still, despite the sewn up parts of other teams that made up the limbs of that early franchise, those fans came along and stayed loyal - most of them all these years.

So in essence Wilpon is the keeper of the flame. He's the gotta in "You gotta believe!" He's the go in "Let's Go Mets." We know what we get with him, even if it is not an awful lot at times, and we know he loves the team as much as we do (when we're not hating them too).

What is at stake here is not just selling off a piece of the pie, but the legacy of this franchise. If some "investors" come in and buy up a quarter of the team, what's that going to do to the Mets? What will happen could be something most of us dread: they might become something like those arch enemies across the river, and don't go thinking that will be a good thing.

I think the worst fear of a Mets fan is not the Yankees beating the Mets so much as the Mets becoming like the Yankees. I don't mean in terms of winning; I mean in everything else. We don't want that corporate nightmare where winning at all costs means people-very good people-like Bernie Williams, Johnny Damon, Hideki Matsui, and many others get pushed out the door like damaged goods. Hey, that's like Popeye becoming Bluto, or Batman becoming the Joker. Mets fans would never stand for that.

So my idea is that we, the fans, should start putting money up to buy that quarter of a stake. I've got my twenty-five dollars ready to throw in the pot. Anyone else in?

NY Giants Legend Bobby Thompson Dies at 86

NY Giants' baseball legend Bobby Thomson died at home in Savannah, Georgia, on Monday at age 86 after a long illness. Thomson has long been remembered for hitting a game-winning home run at the Polo Grounds in New York in a playoff game against the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1951.

War stories. That is what old Dodgers fans passed down to their kids and grandchildren, just as I always got the story about the "shot heard around the world" and what it did to Dodgers fans. For those of you who don't know, it was Bobby Thomson who hit a three-run homer off the Dodgers' Ralph Branca, winning the game and the three-game playoff series in favor of the NY Giants. As always in the Dodger's hall of what might have been - the woulda-shoulda-coulda place where fans of Dem Bums cried in their beer - Thomson stood out as the guy who stopped them from going to the World Series against the New York Yankees.

Bobby Thomson did this long before I was born, but that didn't stop the story from being told enough times for me to be mesmerized by it growing up. When I got old enough, I would see Thomson on television shows, usually with Ralph Branca sitting next to him. The two of them seemed like good old friends, laughing and recounting the day of October 3, 1951, like it was the day they both graduated from high school. In truth, that is probably closer to what it was: that day they both became enshrined in baseball lore, permanently attached to one another as much as if they had walked down the aisle and received diplomas together.

I think Thomson and Branca taught a lot of us kids what it meant to accept things as they were. Thomson always came across as a good winner, almost as if he were just lucky to have been in the right place at the right time. He never seemed to have come down off that cloud after hitting that homer, as if he still didn't believe after all those years that it happened the way it did. Branca, on the other hand, taught us how to be a gracious loser.

It seemed apparent that he and Thomson had become friends over the years; there was never even a hint of animosity and almost a glowing respect for Thomson. Branca and Thomson were linked forever by that one pitch and swing, and they both will be remembered as class acts who understood their place in baseball lore and were humbled by the magnitude of moment that inextricably linked them.

There were rumors at the time, no doubt perpetrated by frustrated Dodgers fans, that the Giants were stealing signs all season and particularly during that playoff series. Giants manager Leo Durocher - who had once been manager of the Dodgers and championed Jackie Robinson as his player - was known to play the game to win. Even if the Giants were able to steal the signs, and even if Thomson knew what pitch was coming from Branca, he still had to be able to hit it over the fence. Nothing, even the rantings of these crazed Dodgers fans (some of whom were members of my family) can diminish the impact of that home run.

There are more than a few legendary home runs that baseball fans remember: ones that won a pennant or a World Series. We talk about them today as "walk-off homers," and it is a powerful truth that nothing in baseball, in all of sports I believe, is as monumental as this. Of all the homers ever hit, the balls sailing over the wall into the hands of fans during the course of all the years baseball has been played, only one homer has ever been called "the shot heard around the world." No other home run. Ever.

Bobby Thomson played fifteen years and hit 264 home runs during the regular season. He will always be remembered for one of them, one of 32 he hit in 1951; but he will also always be remembered for having the class and dignity that becomes part of lore and legend. He leaves Branca behind now, but no doubt he is taking his place among those like him, the passed on baseball legends, in the field of dreams in the great beyond.