January-February 2012 - The Jewish Georgian

Page 26 THE JEWISH GEORGIAN January-February 2012
Schwartz on Sports
Whenever there isn’t a pick-up game
Sunday morning at the MJCCA, I head to
the Brill Fitness Center and spend time on
the stationary bike. I’m not crazy about
exercising this way. You pedal like crazy for
40 minutes, go nowhere, and burn about
300 calories, which will be put back on with
one bagel at brunch. The only TV tuned to
ESPN is down at the other end, and I end up
watching a cooking show. I spend most of
the time observing what’s going on and
thinking about a future humorous feature
called ”Observations from the Stationary
Bike.” You’ll have to wait for that.
After a recent bike session, I showered
and then stopped by the Blank gym to
watch some of the 30+ cross court league
games. I saw a lot of guys I’ve played with
previously in the league, as well as pick-up
on Saturday and Sunday mornings.
The first person I saw when I entered
the gym was Eric Felner. I asked him about
his dad, Joel, who was one of the premier
players at the JCC in the ‘60s and ‘70s.
Frank Hughes looks strong out there and
was playing back-to-back games. He was a
great teammate the times we played together.
Adam Appel came over from the 18+
league and can still shoot the 3. His number
one fan, father Sam, was there cheering
Adam on.
D.J. Edelson was back playing after
taking a year off. He told me that he’s now
become a second-round pick. That’s hard to
believe, because he was the number one
guard in the league for years and certainly
one of the hardest players to defend. I
watched him drive by me on many occasions.
I’d still choose him in the first round.
The caliber of the play was amazing to
me. The teams I watched had not one or two
excellent players but four or five. That
probably has been the biggest change I’ve
seen over the years. It certainly made me
Jerry
Schwartz
think about coming back and trying one
more year.
JEWISH GEORGIAN MAN LAWS.
Although I don’t drink beer, I enjoy the
Miller Lite beer commercials where they
talk about “Man Laws,” the American
man’s idea of what it means to be macho.
Burt Reynolds is my favorite man of the
Square Table. He was great as a vice detective
in the movie Sharky’s Machine. That
scene where the villain goes crashing backward
through a window at the Westin
Peachtree Plaza and falls 700 feet to his
death was some stunt. I do wish, though,
that Burt wouldn’t have lost his two fingers
in that torture scene, but I digress. The commercials
are humorous and I thought it
would be fun to develop some “Man Laws”
for the Jewish Georgian sports scene.
Somehow, “macho” and “Jewish
Georgian athlete” don’t fit. It’s more like an
oxymoron. Most of the guys I know and
have played with are great competitors and
play hard, but you don’t see tables being
overturned, punches being thrown, or a lot
of trash talking going on. When the game’s
over, guys shake hands and head home. And
by the time they get there, the game is
already history.
So, please accept these “Man Laws”
for the Jewish Georgian athlete in the
humorous and good-natured context in
which are they are intended:
• When exercising in the Brill Fitness
Center, all free weights are off limits. You
Mama’s wedding dress
BY
Balfoura Friend
Levine
Back in 1949, the Communists had
overtaken most of China, including
Shanghai, where I was born and raised. I
had already come to the United States on a
student visa to study at the University of
Georgia, through the sponsorship of my
Uncle Louis Friend, of Eastman, Georgia.
By that time, most of the foreigners
(non-Chinese) had emigrated from China to
the United States, the United Kingdom, and
Australia, and many Jews went to the newly
minted State of Israel.
My father, Jacob Friend, originally
BY
from Poland/Russia and escaping from the
repressive tsarist regime to China in 1913,
went to Manila from Shanghai on business
just before World War II and got stuck there
for the war’s duration. My mother, Frieda
Friend, also from Russia and called a
Stateless Russian (as most of the Jews were
called), was given the choice of going to
Russia—returning to the Motherland, said
the Communist U.S.S.R.—or making
aliyah (Hebrew for “moving up”) to Israel.
Having a cousin in Haifa, Mama picked
Israel.
The Communists in China allowed her
only one piece of luggage for this trip, so
among other precious items, she packed my
kindergarten report cards, my 1st-grade
school uniform (with bloomers!), and The
Concise Oxford Dictionary, which was the
General Knowledge prize awarded to me in
1937, when I was 12 years old. I’m sure she
must use the machines, and no grunting
allowed.
• Don’t ever be caught in high impact, kickboxing,
or that Israeli martial arts class.
• When two guys are in the gym alone, you
never play one-on-one. A game of H-O-R-
S-E is more your speed.
• No disagreements ever go beyond arguing.
Just too many lawyers in the gym.
• Tennis is seldom played once the temperature
drops below 70 degrees, and, if it
does, gloves and heavy clothing are mandatory
• Your favorite radio and TV personalities
are Steak Shapiro, Matt Chernoff, and Zach
Klein.
• Never dive for a racquetball shot. If you
can’t get it standing, then the other guy
deserves the point.
• Never slide in a softball game. If you can’t
go into second standing, then don’t try and
take the extra base.
• No basketball player takes the time to
stretch before the game, and you better not
be caught jumping a rope. You show up one
minute before the game starts.
• Nobody believes in a hard foul. Guys are
helped up from the floor. Patting a guy on
the back or saying “nice shot” is common
practice.
• Nobody uses the Jacuzzi, unless your back
hurts or you like bathing with strangers.
I could go on and on, but we’re running out
of beer.
GIVENS. “Givens” is a term my friend
Richard Bracker coined. “Givens” are
things that are bound to happen if you’re
involved in sports or physical activity. They
don’t seem logical or rational, but they
occur anyway. It doesn’t matter whether
you understand why or not. So here are
some “Givens” for the Jewish Georgian
sports scene:
• When you take a time out during a basketball
game and remind everyone not to foul,
the first thing that happens when you go
Wedding photo of Mr. and Mrs.
Jacob L. Friend, July 29, 1923, with
the four-inch lace hem of her wedding
dress
wanted to bring her wedding dress for me
as well, but due to limited luggage space,
Mama cut off its four-inch lace hem and
stashed it in her little sack of embroidered
back on the court is a guy on your team
fouls somebody.
• The one time you forget to sign up for the
only racquetball court at the JCC, it will be
reserved for the next two hours.
• The guys who look the best and have the
best equipment aren’t the best.
• When you remind your softball pitcher to
throw strikes, he’ll walk the next three batters.
• When you get up extra early and rush to
the MJCCA Saturday morning for the first
basketball game, you’ll be the next player
for the second game.
• The bar or bat mitzvah Sunday brunch will
always occur on the day of the championship
game.
• If there’s a wet spot anywhere on the racquetball
court, you’ll slip on it.
• You never start the game at the basket
where you’ve warmed up or with the same
basketball.
• The only shower available in the locker
room will be out of hot water and soap.
• The guy the other team picks up as a
replacement will play the game of his life.
• The day you leave your ace bandage at
home will be the day you sprain your ankle.
• The weakest player on your team won’t
miss a game all year.
If you have any “Givens” or “Man
Laws” of your own, send them to me at
drjsch7@comcast.net, and I’ll include them
in a future column.
IN REMEMBRANCE. Henry Levi died in
October 2011. I had known him since 1978,
when he played basketball in the JCC and
synagogue leagues. He was a great competitor
on the court and nice guy off the
court. The last time I saw Henry was in the
40+ 4X4 half court league, and, in spite of
being ill, he was still playing a game he
loved, basketball. He’ll be missed.
Until next time, drive for the bucket
and score.
handkerchiefs. (That was long before the
era of facial tissues.)
Now forward to 1956, when I was
already married, with two youngsters, and
finally the proud holder of American citizenship.
Now, as an American, I could
sponsor my mother’s emigration from
Israel to America—and to me in Georgia.
Years later, after her death, I came across
the little sack of hankies and that now-yellowed
lace hem.
Just a few years ago, for Mother’s Day,
my daughter Sandy surprised me with a
beautiful gift. She had taken that lace hem,
as well as my parents’ wedding photo, and
had them exquisitely framed for posterity.
Included in the frame is a card that reads
“The marriage of Miss Frieda H. Kovarsky
to Mr. Jacob L. Friend took place at Harbin
on Sunday, July 29th 1923 (16th Ab 5683)
Harbin, China. “
Mama’s wedding dress lives with me
every time I look at that lovely picture of
my parents taken so long, long ago.
God Bless America.