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Gary Carter, Whitney Houston, Many Events
The past several days have witnessed a convergence of many events, unrelated perhaps, but like all things juxtaposed by fate, each gives to the other a different and new meaning. There were the untimely deaths of only the third New York catcher to be elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame (although he has gone to immortality as a Montreal Expo): The Kid, Gary Carter. (The others are Yankees: Bill Dickey and Yogi Berra. Don’t get me [Evander] started on Thurman Munson.) The Kid may have had the single greatest, most-improbable in-the-clutch hit I ever witnessed: bottom-of-the-ninth inning, two men out, two strikes, Game 6, 1986, Mets versus the Boston Red Sox. Condolences from Right Off the Bat go to the Carter family. As this gutsy ballplayer left the fields of earthly perception, at the age of fifty-seven, so Whitney Houston, the great voice, left us too soon, at forty-eight. Our prayers go to the Houston family, particularly to gospel-singer extraordinary, Cissy. Yesterday, February 17, also marked forty-six years since the first tracks of “Good Vibrations” were laid. Speaking of good vibes, it was the day New York Yankees pitchers—minus the troubled A. J. Burnett, who is being shipped off to the Pittsburgh Pirates, pending approval by the commissioner of Major League Baseball plus the passing of a physical—and catchers reported to Tampa to begin spring training. Good, good, good vibrations.
Cricket versus Baseball versus Cricket (and I Hope Nothing Bad Is Being Said)
ROTB received a fascinating article from number-one fan of this blog, Ron Kaplan, on the history of cricket in Israel. Noodling around the subject, I (Evander) discovered the video, below. For baseball fans, the footage shows some of the action that takes place in any high-level amateur cricket match, and is therefore instructive. I can only hope that the interviews and dialogue, which I cannot interpret, do speak to the mission of this Web site as well as to one of the overarching themes of our book: viz., these sports keenly relate and can bring our fragmented world together. (The term Tikkun olam comes to mind.)
Posted in Baseball, Cricket, Right Off the Bat Book
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Red Sox on the Cheap

New Boston manager Bobby Valentine. To ask the trendy question from the 1960s: Why is this man laughing?
Baseball versus Cricket versus Baseball
Many thanks to Ron Kaplan for the entertaining video, below. It is “baseball-centric” for sure. But it does objectively go into the physics and biology of batting, in each sport. Incidentally, “the news” regarding a baseball batter not being able to see the pitched ball when it is closer than fifteen feet from him is in dispute if Ted Williams (cricket fans: possibly the greatest pure hitter there ever was; certainly the most scientific) could be believed—claiming that he could see the ball as it hit off his swinging bat.
Equal Opportunity Sinners
Because cricket and baseball can be as ignoble as otherwise, this article by Rob Steen on whether cricket can learn a thing or two from baseball in stamping out match-fixing is worth a read. Steen skates over baseball’s less than stellar record when it comes to dealing with illegal drug-taking, but, hey, sometimes there’s only so much corruption one article can cope with. By the way, for those who aren’t up on crooked cricketers, the asterisked name at the end of the piece belongs to Hansie Cronje, unfortunately a byword—like a flanneled Dorian Gray—for a gentleman of fine comportment and ostensible probity who went to the bad and met a tragic end.
Happy Birthday, Charles Dickens
It’s the prodigious writer’s bicentennial. And we at ROTB cannot think of a better way to celebrate than to read Chapter 7 of Pickwick Papers, where the Dingley Dell Cricket Club takes on All-Muggleton. And if that doesn’t baffle you, here’s an 18-minute film on cricket in a bunch of movies through history:
Slaughter!
In May of last year, India were ranked the best cricket team in the world at the longest form of the game, Test cricket. England were a close second. What a difference nine months make! Shortly after triumphing in the World Cup, India arrived in England where they were dismantled and lost the Test series 4-0 before traveling to Australia where they were eviscerated by the same margin. England, meanwhile, had ascended to number one after beating Australia 3-1 and Sri Lanka 1-0, and were looking a bit smug, only to be destroyed today by Pakistan 3-0 in the United Arab Emirates, which is what passes for Pakistan’s home soil after Pakistan was deemed too unsafe to tour. England will probably retain their number-one spot, since South Africa (who are now in second place), on the rise after a string of successes, have yet to play the New Zealanders, whom they will probably beat handsomely as well.
Such volatility in the rankings is a good thing (unless you happen to be either an India or England supporter). A few years ago, Australia sat atop the pile of the ten Test playing nations in such mastery that it seemed as though no one else would ever remember how uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. England, who seem to be incapable of playing spin, have to cope with India and Sri Lanka away and South Africa at home, in order to return to number one. After the shocker against Pakistan, our money’s on South Africa reaching the top. The question is: How hard will they fall?
Posted in Australia, Cricket, England, India, New Zealand, Pakistan, South Africa, Sri Lanka, Test Cricket
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“Ulysses” (at 90) Meets “Who’s on First?”
Ulysses, the 20th-century masterpiece by James Joyce (whose favorite cricket player was Arthur Shrewsbury, who had a striking resemblance, Joyce thought, to his Zurich-based artistic confidant, Frank Budgen), turns 90 today—if my (Evander’s) math is anywhere close to correct. Although Groucho Marx was Joyce’s favorite comedian, and cricket was Joyce’s game (not to mention the favorite sport of his almost-son-in-law [yikes!], Samuel Beckett), if he had lived long enough (today would have been Joyce’s 130th birthday), he probably would have gotten a charge out of the following bit of word-lunacy via Abbott and Costello.
Evander (Not Holyfield) Meets and Greets Baseball Players and Cricket Fans
The scene today was Fairfield, New Jersey, the Crowne Plaza Hotel on Route 46 East. I arrived with my pre-1974 Yankee Stadium seat to add some autographs and to promote Right Off the Bat. The Crowne Plaza was hosting a Hot Stove League weekend extravaganza to celebrate 35 years from the time that the New York Yankees won their first World Series since 1962. (In Yankeesland, fifteen years between championships is an eternity.) The ’77 Series was punctuated by Reggie Jackson’s three straight home runs against the Los Angeles Dodgers on consecutive at-bats, on consecutive pitches.
(Cricket fans, listen up. Reggie comes to bat and hits a home run. He circles the bases and sits down to bedlam at Yankee Stadium. His next turn at bat, he sees one pitch and hits a rocket into the right-field stands. He circles the bases. The Stadium goes even crazier. He sits on the bench. At his final turn at bat, Reggie’s bespectacled eyes open like saucers at the sight of the very first pitch. He hits a titanic home-run into what was is known as “the black” at the old Yankee Stadium, too distant for anyone to sit; only a handful of home runs have ever gone this distance. The fans ignite [mixed metaphor?] an earthquake. Reggie circles the bases straight into Cooperstown. The Reggie Feat is probably unprecedented anywhere on the professional level.)
Yet, I have no interest in 1977. I need to collect autographs on my old, wooden seat and to plug the book.
As I walk into the crowded hotel, ten feet away from me is Darryl Strawberry. He began his career long after 1977, was seemingly a New York Met for life (till he wasn’t), but, for various reasons discussed in our book, was with the Yankees in 1996: the first championship for the franchise since 1978—another eternity in Yankeeland. Who else did I get close and personal to and with? Al Kaline (National Baseball Hall of Fame as a member of the Detroit Tigers), Whitey Ford (needless to say, Hall of Fame), Jim Leyritz, John Wettland, Hector Lopez, Rocky Colavito, Ralph Terry, Bob Turley, and Ken Griffey Sr. Billy Dee Williams was giving autographs for reasons unknown.
But I was mainly there to shake hands with Luis Arroyo, the prototype for Mariano Rivera; Jim Bouton, the iconoclast; and the pride of Polish-Americans, Tony Kubek, .297 rookie season, all-around hero who took a bad hop to the throat in Game 7 of the 1960 World Series (cricket fans: maybe the greatest series ever, with the Pittsburgh Pirates upending the Casey Stengel-led Bronx Bombers, ending Stengel’s incredible Yankees’s career, on their last swing of the bat by Bill Mazeroski off the aforementeioned Ralph Terry), and former Game of the Week broadcaster.
Pleasant conversations and signed books from yours truly to Messrs Bouton and Kubek revealed each to have a keen interest in and knowledge of cricket. This I never expected. In fact, Bouton asked (befawr I tawked) if I were English—which I take as a supreme compliment! I then collected my seat with all the signatures: With wand’ring step and slow, / Thro Eden I took my solitary way.
Thank you all, gentlemen!
Posted in Baseball, Cricket, England, Right Off the Bat Book, Right Off the Bat Website, Yankees
Tagged Al Kaline, Bill Mazeroski, Bob Turley, Casey Stengel, Darryl Strawberry, Evander Holyfield, Game of the Week, Hector Lopez, Jim Bouton, Jim Leyrtiz, John Wettland, Ken Griffey Sr., Literature, Los Angeles Dodgers, Luis Arroyo, National Baseball Hall of Fame, New York Mets, New York Yankees, Pittsburgh Pirates, Ralph Terry, Reggie Jackson, Rocky Colavito, Tony Kubek, Whitey Ford, Yankee Stadium
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Prince Receives a Kingly Sum
The Detroit Tigers have added one big—in every way—bat by signing former Milwaukee Brewers first baseman Prince Fielder to the largest contract in franchise (Tigers) history. The son of Cecil “Big Daddy” (not the Tennessee Williams variety—from the Madeleine Sherwood vehicle, which also features Elizabeth Taylor, whose remarkable Christie’s auction exhibit I [Evander] viewed, and Paul Newman) Fielder, Prince should have few problems rekindling the legendary family magic in Motown. On an annual basis, the nine-year, $214 million (I had heard another report of $217 million), budget-buster would make Prince the fifth-highest annual earner currently in Major League Baseball.

