Sunblock=Terrorism
Ridiculous. Yankee stadium officials in their infinite wisdom have decided to
ban patrons from bringing sun block into the stadium. Why? Terrorism of course! Haven't you heard of the infamous Coppertone bombers who have been terrorizing beaches from Waikiki to San Tropez? Puleeze. Sunblock is on sale inside the stadium of course for $5--an ounce!
The message here? Real Americans burn for their baseball.
Labels: Sports, Stupidity
Subway Series?
Both the New York Mets and Yankees are getting new stadiums next year. As a final nod to both the House that Ruth built and Shea Stadium, the home of the Mets since their beginning as an upstart team in 1962, the teams have agreed to play one last subway series in both stadiums--only they don't travel by subway. They travel by luxury bus with a police escort.
Today's double header started at Yankee's Stadium and lasted a blistering four hours ending at 6 PM. The second game at Shae is scheduled for 7:30 leaving only an hour and a half for the players to change, travel, change again and start the game. Their police escorted buses will shut down traffic on the Major Deegan at the height of rush hour crippling the Friday night commute home for thousands of New Yorkers. Yay, team.
However, to the delight of my family, especially my brother Peter and sister Lisa who were at this afternoon's game, the Mets won a whopping 15 to 6--more runs than any team has scored against the Yankees all year.
Labels: New Yorkana, Sports
Grow Up!
File this one under "get a life." During construction of the new Yankees Stadium, a Red Sox-loving construction worker on the job reportedly planted a Sox jersey under two feet of concrete as a practical joke and possibly to spur Yankee fears of a Boston "curse". Construction workers, most of whom are Yankee fans, spent five hours on Saturday digging up the offending jersey at the request of Yankees brass.
The Yankees are considering filing criminal charges against the construction worker because "he had bad motives and was trying to do a really bad thing." Criminal charges! For something that's imaginary! Gimme a break. Why don't you go tell his mommy while you're at it. The only thing criminal here is spending five hours on a Saturday at union wages digging up brand new concrete. Maybe they can get the pope to exorcise the spot during his upcoming visit to Yankees Stadium next week. Grow up, boys!
Labels: Only In New York, Pop Culture, Sports
Super Duper
Well, if yesterday was Super Sunday and tomorrow is Super Tuesday, that must make today Super Monday. And I'm super, thanks for asking. I'm super because the New York Giants won the Super Bowl--but they're really from New Jersey. And so am I. While I detest football, the macho-bullshit subculture, the excruciating pace of a game played seven seconds at a time, the overweight athletes who are paid the equivalent of the gross national product of a third world country for playing what is essentially an organized game of Kill the Guy with the Ball, I was pleased to see the Giants win. Hometown heroes and all that. I didn't watch the game, mind you, but I did check back to catch the score every once in a while and saw the last minutes or so when the Giants scored their final touchdown and extra point. I saw the end game celebrations and imagined the glee both my father and brother must have been experiencing at that moment. And that felt super.
Tomorrow, our "green" mayor will host a ticker-tape parade for the New Jersey team down New York's famed Canyon of Heroes. Do they actually use ticker-tape any more? And if this parade were to happen after the mayors congestion pricing went into affect anyone driving in from New Jersey to attend the parade would have to pay an additional $8 for the pleasure.
Once again this begs the question, won't the paper wasted on a ticker-tape parade kind of undo any environmental benefit that would come from congestion pricing? Just asking.
What's also super is that homophobia seemed to be out of the commercials for the most part,
unlike last year. But unfortunately, misogyny was back in. It is, sadly, a staple of sporting event advertising. Several of the morning talk shows discussed how many women were offended by the Ugly Betty style Planters commercial which can be
seen here.
What wouldn't be super is if the Super Bowl ticker-tape parade keeps people away from the polls tomorrow on Super Tuesday. Which brings me to the question of whom to vote for in the Democratic primaries. I'll admit, I've been going round and round on the subject. Right now I'm leaning toward Obama over my senator, Mrs. Clinton. His Kennedy endorsements, his campaign of hope and change and his ability to motivate an otherwise apathetic electorate are what's swaying me in that direction. Obama also picked up the endorsements of MoveOn.org and of my former New Jersey Senator, Bill Bradley recently, which also hold some sway with me.
This is not to poo-poo Hillary Clinton's New York Times endorsement, but then I would expect them to endorse her. Their's is a decision based more on black and white facts of policy and experience than gut-feeling. And I'll admit I continue to be impressed with Hillary when I hear her speak. She knows the issues inside and out, she speaks the facts and her policies are based on her experience of knowing how the system works. Yet I feel her polarizing personality and the baggage of the last Clinton administration will create more of the same congressional grid-lock we've had for almost 16 years. The Republicans may not agree on who they want as their nominee, but one thing they can all agree on is how much they hate the Clintons.
As far as policy, the differences between Obama and Clinton are minute. Both would end the war in Iraq, although I applaud Obama's stance against the war from the very beginning. Unlike Hillary, he spoke his conscience on the matter rather than made a decision he thought would be politically advantageous to him when he was up for re-election or ran for president. Hillary's judgement there and in her choice to use her husband as a political bully during her campaign raise serious questions about her leadership to me.
As for healthcare, while I like Hillary's idea of mandatory health insurance, I fear that to get such legislation passed the concept would be whittled away to nothing but a skelatal program that really wouldn't do those who need it much good. As for Obama's plan of reducing the cost of insurance to make it more affordable to all Americans, I fear that once again, the poor, infirmed and under-educated will still not get the coverage they need simply because they don't have the wherewithal to wade through the already mind-numbing confusion that is our healthcare system in this country. Believe me, I know. I had to go through this harrowing experience myself lately. So for me this issue is a draw.
Finally, on tax cuts and the economy, I have to lean more toward Obama because his tax cuts will benefit middle class Americans across the board. Clinton's plan is to create tax cuts for this, that and the other group many of whom fall in the middle income tax bracket. This to me would create more confusion over new tax laws and is essentially unfair to some Americans. For example, additional tax cuts for people with children or who are saving for college really wouldn't benefit me and is a bit "family-biased" in my opinion. It sends the message that if you are single or not producing children you are worth less to society. That rubs me the wrong way.
All this hair-splitting aside, we have two super candidates either of whom would do super things as president. And that's progress.
Labels: Politics, Sports
In Memoriam: Phil Rizzuto
This week New York mourns the loss of one of its native sons and most iconic figures. The former New York Yankees' shortstop Phil Rizzuto died of pneumonia Wednesday. His voice and trade mark "Holy Cow!" had become synonymous with the Yankees during his long career as the team announcer. He played for the Yankees during the glory days of 1941 to 1956. I remember him mostly for this Money Store commercials in the 1970s. When Yankees owner George Steinbrenner learned of Rizzuto's death, he said "Heaven must have needed a shortstop." Phil Rizzuto was 89.
Labels: In Memoriam, New Yorkana, Sports
Barbershop Banter
I've been on the hunt for a new regular barber shop ever since Richard, my barber of 10 years, seems to have disappeared from the shop I normally frequent. In fact, most of the barbers I knew from there seem to have flown the coop over the past six months or so. I recently heard through the grapevine that Richard and a couple of the other guys have opened their own shop but due to some top-secret hair dressing confidentiality agreement, no one can tell me where it is. So my search continues. But if anyone knows where Richard from Free Time Haircutters on Christopher Street is, please let me know! But I digress...
The other day I tried out a new shop with the fussy name of Mr. Joseph's on Greenwich Avenue between Chirstopher and 10th Street. I was attracted to the shop because of the kind of youngish, cute but not overly stylish guys who work there. They also had quite a few men waiting for haircuts which is always a good sign, too. The three barbers all appeared to be Eastern European immigrants, Romanian perhaps, one of whom is the present owner of Mr. Joseph's, but not actually Mr. Joseph. While Franco was cutting my hair, in a walked an older gentleman; a regular who probably knew the original Mr. Joseph some 40 years ago judging from the sign out front. He was a gruff but good natured fellow with a lot of coarse wavy grey hair. He plopped himself down in the barber chair next to mine and began the typical barber shop banter of women and sports as he was getting his hair cut. Somehow the subject of age came up.
"Ya know what I heard today?" said the old-timer, "Joe Namath turned 64! Can ya believe it?" The foreign barbers were nonplussed. "Ya know who Joe Namath is, right?" The barbers admitted they did not.
"He was only the greatest quarterback the New York Jets ever had!" said Mr. Old-Timer in a beautifully pure working-class New York accent. "Predicted they'd win the Super Bowl when no one believed it."
"That's right, he won the '69 Super Bowl," I piped in wondering where the hell I pulled that fact from. I must have heard it on Jeopardy. I'm not sure why I felt compelled to participate in the conversation except in an effort to educate our cute foreign friends.
"Yep! He was a character--used to stand on the sidelines wearin' a fur coat!" the old guy added with a chuckle.
"Broadway Joe they used to call him," I said, still wondering what phantom sports nut was possessing me, causing me to blurt out 40 year old sports trivia.
"That's right, Broadway Joe!" Said the old guy.
I decided to leave it at that thinking it best not to mention that the image of Joe Namath I'm most familiar with is his pantyhose commercial.
Labels: Only In New York, Pop Culture, Sports
Speak No Evil
As you may have noticed I've remained mum on the subject of Don Imus' racist and sexist remarks aimed at the Rutgers Women's Basketball team. I don't need to rehash
the incident, what was said, or the team's response here. I assume you've all seen the news and the reports ad nauseum on the subject. His remarks have landed Mr. Imus out of a job having been dropped from both CBS radio and MSNBC.
While I applaud these major news outlets for taking a stand, I can't help but wonder if their decisions are based on true anti-hate speech principles or the loss of sponsorships for Mr. Imus' show. Call me cynical, but as a gay American who has to filter out homophobic remarks from the media on a daily basis even from some of my favorite programs (See red7Eric's comment on yesterday's post), the swift and immediate response to Imus' remarks have left me scratching my head. Why start having principles now? Why over
these particular remarks? Why Don Imus?
Don't get me wrong, I think what Imus said was despicable, inexcusable and a painful reminder that no matter how much women or minorities achieve they are still reduced to the basest name-calling and insults by old, white men. But what's different
this time? It's been a bad year for hate speech, so is Don Imus simply a victim of bad timing? Why the call from the black community (and others) for the immediate dismissal of Mr. Imus from his media outlets, yet when Isaiah Washington uses an ugly gay epithet he is not only allowed to keep his job on one of the top rated TV shows, he is then
awarded an NAACP Image award of all things!
I guess I was waiting to hear the whole Imus debacle discussed from a gay point of view before I commented. Surely I'm not the only one to be confused and disappointed by the duplicitous behavior on the part of the American public and the media over this particular hate speech. Thankfully, leave it to Harvey Fierstein in today's
New York Times Op Ed piece to sum up not only his own feelings on the subject in a most eloquent and succinct manner, but mine as well. Here's a quote:
The real point is that you cannot harbor malice toward others and then cry foul when someone displays intolerance against you. Prejudice tolerated is intolerance encouraged. Rise up in righteousness when you witness the words and deeds of hate, but only if you are willing to rise up against them all, including your own. Otherwise suffer the slings and arrows of disrespect silently.
Labels: Corporate America, Gay Politics, Pop Culture, Sports, Women
Ding-Dong, The Witch Is Dead!
I regret to report that homophobia is not restricted to just
men's basketball but has reared its ugly head at the women's college level as well. Penn State women's basketball coach Rene Portland (pictured here looking cranky in a strand of pearls)
announced her resignation Wednesday night after a 27 year career and a record of 606-236 amid allegations that she discriminated against lesbian players.
She was fined $10,000 for violating Penn State's anti-discrimination policy last year following complaints from a team member perceived to be gay who said Portland has a "no lesbians" policy. The player suffered much humiliation and was berated for not appearing feminine enough. In addition to being fined, Portland was ordered to take professional development courses "devoted to diversity and inclusiveness."
The news of Portland's homophobia sparked an
on-campus demonstration during which students demanded she be fired. One protester stated "The Rene Portland case is about hate and discrimination. We have to speak out." Thank God for the next generation!
When you think about it, a women's basketball team without any lesbian players is like a Broadway musical without any gay chorus boys. Sure, it can be done but the show is gonna suck. That probably explains why Portland's record was 15-16 and 13-16 during her last two seasons at Penn State.
Begone, Portland, before somebody drops a house on you!
Labels: Homophobia, Sports, Women
You Gotta Believe!
This week my two year old nephew, Nate, learned a lesson in one of the values we hold dear in our family: rooting for the underdog. We are, after all, lifelong Democrats, champions of the working man and due to our proximity to New York growing up, die-hard
Mets fans. Why Mets and not Yankees? That would be too easy. Where is the challenge in being a Yankee fan? Anyone can do that. No. We prefer to suffer, thank you very much. We’re also Italian Catholics, so there you go.
I’m not sure exactly how we came to be Mets fans. My mother grew up with only a mild interest in baseball and rooted for the Yankees (she was Presbyterian back then). My Dad, as a 10 year old Italian immigrant, moved to Brooklyn and was consequently indoctrinated as a Brooklyn Dodgers fan. So perhaps it was out of respect for him that we chose to become Mets fans. After all, no self-respecting Dodgers fan could just turn around and start rooting for the Yankees, even after suffering the betrayal of the Brooklyn Dodgers moving to Los Angeles of all places. So, that left us with the Mets, an upstart new team from the1962 season.
Most likely though, it was probably my jock eldest sister who grew up to become a Sports Medicine doctor that is responsible for our allegiance to the Mets. In 1969, about the time my sister was old enough to understand what was going on in baseball, the Miracle Mets won the World Series turning her into a lifelong fan. Since we younger kids did what ever she said, our fate was sealed.
Like my mother, I had only a mild interest in baseball as a kid. I played Little League (badly) which didn’t exactly inspire me to follow any particular team religiously. But then, Lee Mazzilli (pictured below) joined the Mets in the late 70s.
That was it. I, too, became a rabid Mets fan. I even started collecting baseball cards hoping for more pictures of Lee with every pack of Topps bubble-gum trading cards I purchased. Besides, the "Mets," I learned, was short for "Metropolitans" which appealed to me for some reason. Probably because it sounds like a gay street gang.
Anyway, when my nephew Nate was born, my brother Peter had him in Mets garb from the time he came out of the womb. By the tender age of two, Nate was enjoying a regular male bonding ritual with his Dad: Wednesday night pizza and B-ball where the two of them would root for their beloved Mets. Earlier this week tickets went on sale for opening day and the pre-season subway series where the Mets will face their crosstown rivals, the dreaded Yankees. Peter and Nate donned their Mets finery just for the occasion. This was not for the
actual series mind you, merely the ticket sales. My brother then had to explain to Nate that the series in question was
not the World Series, for although the Mets had a great season last year, they didn’t make it that far. Nate did not take the news well.
My brother then had to sit Nate down and explain to him the hardships of defeat and the lesson that every Mets fan must learn sooner or later: That our team can’t always win but "there’s always next year." That losing builds character which will make us stronger in the end. That "you gotta believe" you can still win another time. Being born into a family of Mets fans doubtless this is the first of many times poor Nate is doomed to hear this pep talk. But learn it well, Nate, for someday you will have to teach it to your own son. (Pictured below: Nate's first pep talk.)
Labels: Family, Personal, Sports
Hardaway Learns the Hard Way
The Tim
Hardaway debacle is so outrageous, I hardly know how to respond to it. It is the purest most vile form of bigotry and hatred I've heard in a long time. Sparked by the news of former NBA player
John Amaechi's coming out, there is nothing veiled about
Hardaway's response, nothing that slipped out accidentally. His words were deliberately chosen in a public forum. (Check out my post
"What's So Funny" and click on the
YouTube clip to hear the venom spewed directly from
Hardaway's mouth followed by a bizarrely inappropriate response
from he Today Show staff.) But thankfully this
multi-millionaire who lives in a vacuum is learning that it's not okay to talk this way.
I must admit I was impressed with the NBA's swift and appropriate response to the situation and wondered why ABC did not act in a similar manner over the Isaiah Washington controversy. After banishing Hardaway from All-Star Weekend in Las Vegas completely, NBA Commissioner David Stern said, "It is inappropriate for him to be representing us given the disparity between his views and ours." He can probably also kiss his commentator career good bye.
Click here for the latest on this story. (There is also a video clip with the article where you can watch
Hardaway eating humble pie behind the security gates of his
multi-million dollar home.) Also note the apology issued from
Hardaway's agent compared to his own: "I shouldn't have said I hate gay people or anything like that." (How heartfelt.) You'll notice he doesn't apologize for his bigotry, just for voicing it.
Other
bloggers have responded to
Hardaway's remarks in much more eloquent, creative and interesting ways than I. Check out what
Spider,
Bigezebear and
Joe.My.God (who can always be counted on to provide the correct contact information should you want to respond to the offending party) have to say on the subject.
Labels: Gay Culture, Gay Politics, Homophobia, Sports
The Homophobe Bowl
Well,
sports fans, with all the computer trouble I've been having lately I haven't had a chance to comment on this year's celebration of
neanderthalism and lowest common denominator dumb jock ideals, the Superbowl, or as I call it, the
Homophobe Bowl. I'm sure I'm not telling you anything new when I say that American football is filled with ignorant, grossly overpaid and grossly overweight "athletes" who are deified by the public and live in a vacuum where being openly homophobic is perfectly acceptable.
This attitude has apparently spread to one of the Superbowl's sponsors,
Mars, makers of Snickers bars, who launched not only an unbelievably offensive and homophobic ad campaign ("The Kiss" pictured above), but established a website (which has since been pulled) where viewers could watch alternate endings to the ad and vote on their "favorite." Perhaps Mars was trying to measure exactly how homophobic their consumers are for future offensive ads. In addition to this poll, there were clips of NFL Players watching the ads and showing their open disgust at the sight of two men kissing. I assume the players were okay with their images out there on the web for all to see as a kind of public record of their hatred and disgust toward the gay community. Apparently this was supposed to be funny as if to say "Look how much these guys hate fags! That's HILARIOUS! I'm laughing so hard I might wet myself!" Well,
hardee har-
har, Mars. Thank you.
And I really liked Snickers bars, too. Humph.
Thankfully, after complaints from
GLAAD and the Human Rights Campaign, Snickers has pulled their ads from the air and the web and have released a statement to the the
NY Times in which they defend the ads and explain that humor is "subjective" (as in, you have to hate gays to get it) but no where do they apologize for offending the gay community or perpetuating violence against them. We're still waiting for that apology, Snickers--the sooner the better. Then you can all head off to rehab.
To add insult to injury, the winners of this year's
Homophobe Bowl were the Indianapolis Colts headed by Coach, Bible
Thumper and Chief
Homophobe, Tom
Dungy who openly attended and was even "honored" at
an event by the Indiana Family Institute, one of the leading proponents of the gay marriage ban in the state of Indiana. On Sunday's win
Dungy credits God as the MVP proving that he is one of those misguided Christians who thinks God actually cares who wins a ridiculous sporting event. Sorry Tom, but something tells me He probably has bigger fish to fry, like, I dunno, AIDS in Africa, genocide in
Darfur--all that jazz.
Dungy made history this year as the first African American coach to lead an NFL team to Superbowl victory. It is a shame, however, that such an accomplishment should be marred by his openly homophobic views. Once again, as in the case of Isaiah Washington, one can't help but notice the irony of an African American man's apparent
bigotry and hatred toward another group striving for equal civil rights. It boggles the mind.
Labels: Gay Culture, Gay Politics, History, Homophobia, Sports
Death of a Champion
The story of last year's Kentucky Derby winner,
Barbaro, has really touched me for some reason. As I'm sure you know by now he suffered a tragic injury at the Preakness last year. Every effort was made to help him heal but in the end he was in much too much pain. His owners were forced to make the difficult decision to euthanize him on Monday. I don't follow horse racing all that much, but ever since I had a job that took me to Louisville a few times during Derby season, I always feel a bit nostalgic when I watch the coverage on
TV.
My friend Dave, a Louisville native, hosted me for the Derby one year and made sure I got to all the best parties. I was struck by the welcoming and friendly community and the way the whole town, no matter who they are, celebrates the event. It was a great weekend.
Smarty Jones was the winner that year. He was a
long shot as I recall even though his record that season was undefeated. He went on to win the Preakness and I thought for sure that Smarty Jones, MY very first Derby winner, would go on to be the first horse in years to win the Triple Crown. But by time the Belmont Stakes came around he had slowed down. The sports commentators said he was tired. He was washed up by the end of the season.
It struck me how like a dancer the career of a thoroughbred is so tragically short. None of us wants to think of our prime being over in the blink of an eye like that--maybe that's why Barbaro's death has received so much media coverage. It speaks to us all.
Labels: Current Events, History, Personal, Sports
