feb 2015

MALE MATTERS
No, the problem for us Fish followers is that, to put it gently, we
have an ownership group that has apparently been more interested
in the bottom line than in line drives. Simply put, once players
are in position to get big paydays, they are usually traded for
fresh-faced ballplayers that are younger – and cheaper. (Hopefully,
the signing of young slugger Giancarlo Stanton will reverse that
trend.)
So, for me, I can only long for those days of my youth when photos
of my Brooklyn Dodger heroes were taped over my bed, and I
dreamed of growing up to be Gil Hodges. Of course Gilley and
the rest of the Dodgers moved out of New York in 1957, followed
by “Say Hey” Willie and the Giants in ’58, but, to be honest, I
was too young to be heartbroken. The years passed, the Mets were
born, and I became a Mets fan, forever giving up my Dodger blue.
But then, just like my “Bums” had left Brooklyn for the greener
pastures of LA, I, too, left the Big Apple for the warmer confines
of Broward County.
And, in time we had our own team; therefore the Mets, like the
Dodgers, were in my rear-view mirror.
VINCE SCULLY
AND MY YOUTH
An ode to baseball
By Elliot Goldenberg
I have a friend from Boston who gets chills up and down his spine
when February rolls around. The smells of peanuts and Cracker
Jacks once again fill the Florida air, and he can resume cheering
for his beloved “Sox.” February, after all, signals the beginning
of Major League Baseball’s spring training, when hopes of new
diamond glory spring eternal – even if you’re from Chicago and
follow the Cubs, also known as the Bad News Bears.
Being a Marlins fan, however, I don’t get that same warm and
fuzzy feeling as my friend from Beantown. True, we’re not longsuffering
like the Cubs fans. After all, in their short history, the
Marlins already have two world championships. The last time the
Cubbies won anything of significance, I believe Millard Fillmore
was in the White House.
My new allegiance was to the baby Marlins. To my friend from
Boston, this switching of teams, like Charlie Crist switching parties,
amounted to nothing short of heresy. I guess to a Red Sox
fan it’s like that verse from West Side Story: “When you’re a Jet,
you’re a Jet all the way, from your first cigarette to your last dying
day …” “How could I jump from the Dodgers, to the Mets, to the
Marlins?” he asked.
Well, one thing that never changed – the one constant in all this
– was the announcer of the Dodgers games seemingly forever: the
legendary Vin Scully.
Chris Carter, the creator of TV’s The X-Files, has acknowledged
that Special Agent Dana Scully was named after the great Vin,
whose silky smooth voice, for over six decades, made baseball into
art. In fact, listening to Scully was not unlike watching a brilliant
artist make a canvas come alive, except Scully’s canvas was
green and filled with beautiful dirt. Not surprisingly, when David
Duchovny’s lead character, Fox Mulder, left The X-Files, a new
character was added – an Agent Doggett – named after the late
Jerry Doggett who announced games with Scully (Vin, not Dana).
As for me, whenever I hear Vin Scully’s name, if I look really hard
enough, I can see all the way back to my youth - a far less complicated
time and place – and, honestly, I, too, can finally feel just like
my friend from Boston. P
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FEBRUARY 2015