Archive for New York Mets

Alex Rodriguez Gets a Makeover: “I Had to Look in the Mirror. I Had to Face the Music. I Had to Change.”

November 13, 2009 / / No comments

In a recent article in the New York Daily News, writer Anthony McCarron describes the rehabilitation of Yankee slugger, Alex Rodriguez.

Soon after helping the Yankees win the 2009 World Series, Rodriguez noted: “A lot of people were very honest with me. I had to look in the mirror. I had to face the music, and I had to to change, and I did that. Kevin Long came to my house in November and said some things that were uncomfortable and I listened, and I changed.”

[Long said:] In order for the team to be together, he had to change and he did. A lot of people tell Alex what he wants to hear. It wasn’t comfortable for me to talk to him like this, but if it ultimately helped us become a better team, that’s what matters.”

Rodriguez changed some little things — made more eye contact with folks he talked to “as opposed to a quick look and his mind already racing to something else,” Long said. He chose the team plane more often, eschewing private jets, and cut down his cell-phone calls at the ballpark. He joined clubhouse conversations, spent time with teammates, tried to be one of the guys.

In a related note, US Weekly recently ran an item noting that Rodriguez had two portraits of himself as a centaur hanging over his bed.

What follows is an attempt to reconstruct the conversation between Long and Rodriguez during that remarkable November visit.

——-

DL: Alex, sit down. It’s time for an intervention. I hate to say this. I know it’s painful. But you’ve got to change. No one on the team likes you.

A-Rod (defensively): You like me.

DL: Actually, no. I’m on your payroll. Otherwise, I’m not here, I’m playing golf with Posada.

A-Rod: Posada?

DL: You’ve got to learn how to be a regular guy in the clubhouse, Alex. Your teammates don’t — Alex, Alex! Could you please stop staring at the mirror. Look at me!

A-Rod (whispering): God, you’re sooooo pretty. I could stare at you all day long.

DL: Alex, that’s still the mirror. Turn around. Eye contact. Look . . . at . . . me.

A-Rod: Why? You’re not as pretty as I am.

DL: Alex, don’t you understand. That’s why I’m here. You act as if you don’t care about anyone but yourself.

A-Rod: How dare you say that! It’s not an act — I really, honestly, sincerely don’t care about anyone besides myself.

DL: Your teammates think you are a self-absorbed egomaniac.

A-Rod: Teammates?

DL: You know, Derek, Jorge, Mariano, Mark . . .

A-Rod: I’m drawing a blank.

DL: C.C., Johnny, Hideki . . .

A-Rod: You mean the Japanese guy? Isn’t he my sushi chef?

DL: No, Jesus, Alex! And Matsui hates when you call him that. These guys are your teammates.

A-Rod: Oh, wait, hold on, I think I know who you’re talking about — you mean the guys who always dress like me?

DL: It’s a uniform, Alex. Everybody wears the same uniform. Alex, another thing . . . could you please put down the cell phone for one freaking minute? Do you have to text right now in the middle of our conversation? Who could be that important?

A-Rod: I wish I had my own airport. Boras promised me that . . .

DL: Alex, for the love of all that is good and holy in this world. Please. It’s time for you to change.

A-Rod: But I want to change!

DL: You do?

A-Rod (jumps up from chair): Yes, desperately. I’m going to change right now!

DL: Alex, Alex? Where are you . . . ? (Long follows Rodriguez into his bedroom, where the Yankee third-baseman changes into a new outfit.) Alex — not that kind of change.

A-Rod: How do I look? Too gypsy?

DL: Jesus, Alex.

A-Rod: Too matchy-matchy?

DL: I don’t know, maybe you could make it work. Do you have a pair of boots or something that highlighted your glistening orbs . . . My God! What am I saying??!!

A-Rod: Man, I wish I could tickle myself. Isn’t it sad? People can’t tickle themselves.

DL: Alex, please, for the love of . . . what the . . . is that a centaur over your bed?

A-Rod: Isn’t it amazing?

DL: Uh, yeah, amazing — that’s a word for it. I mean, there might be other words, too, better words, but — Holy God, there’s another! You have TWO paintings of yourself as a centaur? One wasn’t enough?

A-Rod: I’m not sure if two is enough. I’m hiring a guy to paint a new one of me as a unicorn. Except that instead of a horn coming out of my forehead, it would be my . . .

DL: Alex, please, enough already. Just stop. I’m out of here. I’m  gone. In fact, forget I was ever here. Just, just . . . keep hitting home runs . . . okay? We don’t care about the rest. It’s baseball. It’s not like it’s a real team sport anyway.

A-Rod: Thanks for this talk, Hank. Or, um, Fred? Or, anyway, it was really helpful. I promise you. I’m going to change. Do you think if I tied this sweater around my waist, like this, it makes me look too bloated?

——-

Centaur image from Deadspin.com, courtesy of Jason Fry, from the Faith and Fear in Flushing blog (see sidebar).

James Preller is a life-long Mets fan who, as a third-grader, went to Shea to watch the 5th Game of the 1969 World Series. He is also the author of the ALA Notable Children’s Book, Six Innings.

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Category: Current Events, New York Mets / Tags: , , , , , ,

Glad That’s Over: The Mets Season in Two Photos (For Mets Fans Only)

October 6, 2009 / / 2 comments

Allow me to interrupt “The Never-Ending Lewis Buzbee Interview” to bid a not-so-fond adieu to the end of the baseball season for my beloved New York Mets . . .

File this one under: “How It Feels To Be a Mets Fan These Days.”

Hat tip to the hardworking Aaron Gleeman for first commenting on the photo. I’m basically just stealing Aaron’s act right now. As for the photo below. Woof.

That’s how bad it’s been. The longest. Season. Ever. Or at least since the dismal, dispiriting 1979 squad that lost 99 games.

Glad it’s over. And I never say that.

Tonight, I’m a Twins fan . . .

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Category: New York Mets / Tags: , , ,

Stories Behind the Story: The Case of the Food Fight

May 19, 2009 / / No comments

My wonderful editor at Scholastic, Shannon Penney, suggested this title to me. That happens sometimes, when book club editors will come up with a desired theme or vague concept, and Shannon will be assigned with the grim task of conveying it to me: Halloween, snowboarding, Halloween, Ghosts, Halloween, or whatever. I try to be open to them, find ways to make it work. But here was an idea that I instantly hated. “No, no-no, no NO-no NO,” I said. “Jigsaw would never do that, and it’s the last thing I’d want to celebrate in these books.”

Yet I could not completely deny the appeal of flying meatballs. It would be a fun scene to write. I said I’d think about it. Maybe there was a way.

Next I made a phone call to Ellen Mosher, a second-grade teacher at Westmere Elementary. Ellen did not recall witnessing any food fights, but she said there might have been a few isolated incidents of smashed cupcakes, etc. I asked, “What if a food fight happened. Let’s say it was a huge misunderstanding, no one was at truly fault, but it just kind of got out of hand. What would happen next?”

“Oh,” Ellen said. “It would be a very big deal. The principal would definitely get involved. The kids would have to do the cleanup, and write letters of apology.”

Hmmm, I thought. Maybe there was a way into this story after all. It wasn’t so much about the food fight, but about everything that happened next, the consequences. A teachable moment.  And a story I could feel good about telling.

—–

Many Jigsaw Jones books have a connection to the New York Mets, usually in the names of bit players. In this book, the lunch aide’s name is Mrs. Minaya, after the Mets’ General Manager, Omar Minaya. The other lunch aide, Mrs. Randolph, was named after the Mets’ sourpuss manager at the time, Willie Randolph.

For the mystery, Mrs. Randolph mistakenly accuses Joey Pignattano — named after a coach from the Mets (1968-1981), Joe Pignatano, an ex-Brooklyn Dodger famous for growing tomatoes in the bullpen  — of starting the food fight.

“Jigsaw, you’ve got to help me,” Joey pleaded. “I’m innocent!”

Do readers notice any of this? Does anybody care? I kind of doubt it. Mostly it’s just a thing I’ve always done in this series to entertain myself — and possibly some random Mets-loving reader out there. When it comes time to make up the name of a character, I’ll begin my search with former New York Mets.

—–

Around the time of this book, Paris Hilton was on TV with a FOX reality series called “The Simple Life,” a show where two socialites (Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie) attempt to work a series of low-paying jobs, such as doing farm work, working in fast-food restaurants, and so on. That’s where I got the idea of Paris Hilton working as a substitute school nurse. Funny, right? You know, flipping through a magazine while some kid hurls into a garbage pail. I imagined that she’d say something like, “Could you keep it down, I’m trying to polish my toenails.” So I created the character of Nurse Hilton, placed her in the middle of the mystery, and  was on my way. When I added her dog, I had the key to the mystery.

Jigsaw described her this way:

She was impossibly tall and thin. She had blond hair. And long legs that went all the way to the floor.

Jigsaw will eventually discover that Nurse Hilton was hiding Tinkerbell, her pet Chihuahua, in the filing cabinet. In the nurse’s office, Jigsaw takes in the scene:

I glanced around the room. The desktop overflowed with stacks of folders. Some had even fallen on the floor. A travel magazine opened to a photo of Paris. I saw lipstick and a hand mirror.

Why were so many folders on the desk?  Why had there been reports of barking in the lunch room? Jigsaw and Mila figure it all out in time to save Joey. And as for Nurse Hilton, she hasn’t been seen since.

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Category: Jigsaw Jones, New York Mets, the writing process / Tags: , , , , , , ,

Sleeping in the Baseball Hall of Fame

March 22, 2009 / / One comment

Living in Delmar, NY, we’re about 75 miles from Cooperstown, home of the Baseball Hall of Fame. Beautiful little town in the middle of nowhere, with a gorgeous lake and a lost-in-time feel. The museum offers a program called “Extra Innings,” where groups may come to spend the night. So a group of 36 local children, most of them accompanied by an adult, arrived at the museum at 6:00. The kids played a baseball trivia game, then had a scavenger hunt that brought them all over the museum — which was empty except for us. At 8:30, they watched “The Sandlot” in a small theater, lights out at 11:00. Didn’t sleep so great, but it was a great experience for young and old alike.

Here’s a few snaps:

We all slept in the Gallery, where each Hall of Famer has his own plaque. While my favorite old-time players are Ted Williams and Christy Mathewson, we are Mets fans to the end, and there aren’t many Mets in the Hall of Fame. I believe the grand total is one. So we found Tom Seaver’s plaque and claimed our spot.

I enjoyed wandering around the near-empty museum, where I found a famous shoulder to lean on.

Here’s Gavin, just about ready for bed.

Maybe to most folks, that just seems like a bad night’s sleep. But we  counted ourselves lucky.

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Category: Family, New York Mets / Tags: , ,

For Mets Fans Only: Joni, Too

February 9, 2009 / / 2 comments

Two more aerial photos of Shea Stadium from Chopper 880, taken by Tom Kaminski. Why is this so fascinating to me? I feel like a crow circling a cadaver. Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy about the new stadium. Shea was a dump. But it was always, always there. And now it’s gone. Disorienting.

Hat tip to Steve Keane of the Eddie Kranepool Society for the lyrical suggestion, Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi.”

If you are ever looking for something a little oddball (and who isn’t?), you should track down Bob Dylan’s cover of this tune. The story behind that: When Dylan decided not to  renew his Columbia contract, in 1973, the label released a bunch of poor outtakes for the album, “Dylan.” “Big Yellow Taxi” is on that appropriately maligned disk.

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot
Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got
Till its gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Here’s a newer version, the Counting Crows with Vanessa Carlton, featuring some nice shots of Coney Island and NYC. Though I think the Vanessa Carlton walking-around-aimlessly-with-scarf shots are beyond lame.

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Category: Music, New York Mets / Tags: , , , , , , , ,
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