The mood of the room and the field, belied my emotions this morning. Surrounded by NBA players present and future, as well as Olympic hopefuls, the banter was jovial. Players like Frank the Tank of Wisconsin, Oregon's Joseph Young, and Arizona phenom Stanley Johnson, all waiting for yoga class to begin, were easily zinging putdowns, jokes and friendly talk to anyone and everyone. Hours later, on the field of Pershing Park, a place where the mighty Babe Ruth once hit a home run, an exciting baseball playoff game was being played. The home team, the Santa Barbara City College Vaqueros were joyfully playing out an eventual 5-0 win over the Rio Hondo College Roadrunners.
it was great to be a fly on the wall of both atmospheres. Because it helped me to momentarily forget what I experienced the previous two days. Spending both days looking for a young man that would later be found death, was as traumatic an experience as I want to experience for now, was a grueling grind.
t was a frustrating few days prior, especially for his family. Yet there was still hope that Cody could be found alive. We all felt that way. Watching the helicopter fly above me on a trail between East Camino Cielo and Paradise Road on Thursday, I had a belief that somehow there was a chance...albeit slight. When hearing of the news it was like a punch in the gut, and then utter sadness for the family I have never met. Tonight, after it all been cleared away, I went to the spot trying to fathom why a young life full of promise was suddenly over. The only solace I had was to accept the impermanence of all things. And then eventually I smile, remembering the other occurrences of the previous two days.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
The Man Who Should Have Gotten Some Credit for Baseball's Integration, But Didn't
By Michael Goro Takeuchi
Lester Rodney, one of the first journalists to call for the end of segregation in baseball.
"I ain't gonna play with no n---"
Brooklyn Dodgers player Carl Furillo in 1946 prior to meeting Jackie Robinson
If there is a heaven, I'm hoping that Lester Rodney is sitting next to Jackie Robinson and Wendell Smith eating a hot dog and smiling down upon Dodger Stadium enjoying watching all the 42's run around the field. Because God knows, he enjoyed it from the press box...and although uncredited, he played a part in it.
Rodney, who died in 2009, was one of the first journalists to decry the unwritten but very much in existence rule of segregation in baseball starting in 1936, 11 years before Robinson played his first game for the Brooklyn Dodgers. He, along with black journalists like Wendell Smith of the Pittsburgh Courier, would shout out in print that players like Josh Gibson and Satchel Paige should get there due. And when Robinson became known, he became Mr. Rodney's personal crusade.
However Rodney, a WWII veteran in the South Pacific, was until a few years ago, a mere footnote in the books about Branch Rickey because he was rarely acknowledged due to one factor, the publication that he worked for was the Communist paper, the Daily Worker. Although it may be difficult to comprehend in this modern age and political climate, but during the Great Depression the Daily Worker was one of most widely read publication in this country.
Rodney, who was an unemployed college graduate, wrote to the Daily Worker complaining about its lack of sports coverage. Tiring of this harangue, the editor promptly hired him as the publication's first editor. The sports page was just like any other, covering sports and writing feature stories. But it also included commentary about the social impact of sports. His bent caught the attention of one entity, only it wasn't MLB. It was the FBI. According to this "Forbes" article (http://www.forbes.com/sites/williampbarrett/2010/12/23/fbi-kept-tabs-for-decades-on-press-box-red/), Rodney was on the "watch list", even getting the attention of J. Edgar Hoover himself. In fact, unbeknownst to him, Rodney was mentioned in Hoover's book "Master's of Deceit". His typewriter was considered lethal by the government.
It was from behind this typewriter that Rodney began to campaign for the integration of baseball.
In an interview with him several years ago, Rodney said this.
"Blacks were denied the right to compete with and against the 'best Major League players'. Here were these wonderful players like Josh 'Hoot' Gibson, Buck Leonard and later, Satchel Paige. This was a terrible wrong that needed to be righted."
Starting in 1936, Decade began waging a virtually one-man decade-long campaign by getting players and managers to speak out against segregation. He called out baseball's Commissioner Judge Kennesaw Mountain Landis and many others. The actions of Rodney, Smith and others were instrumental in Dodger president Branch Rickey's signing of Robinson to a minor league contract in 1946. A year later, he would be promoted to the Dodgers.
Rickey, a staunch anti-communist, refused to credit Rodney and the Daily Worker in playing any role.
"It didn't matter who got the credit, because we just wanted to end the f--- ban," Rodney said.
As a regular writer covering the Yankees, Dodgers and Giants, Rodney was "privileged" to cover many players like Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle and Willie Mays. Rodney was covering the game when Mays made his famous catch off the bat of Vic Wertz in the 1954 World Series (http://m.mlb.com/video/topic/6479266/v3218956/bb-moments-54-ws-gm-1-willie-mays-amazing-catch).
"I just remember in the press box everyone going 'whoo!" Rodney said with a laugh. "There was almost a breach of protocol (of no cheering) in the press box."
Rodney, who was featured in a 2010 ESPN "Outside the Lines" episode, also was privy to some private moments that were equally memorable. One occurred in 1947 shortly after it was announced that Robinson was promoted from the Dodgers farm team, the Montreal Royals, to the Big League club. Some of the members of the Dodgers were none too happy that "a negro" would be joining them. Among those voicing their displeasure were Dixie Walker, who was particularly against Robinson joining him. Others expressed themselves as well, including outfielder Carl Furillo who uttered something within Rodney's earshot.
"I ain't going to play with no niggers," Furillo said.
"Carl wasn't as vocal as some of the others, especially some of the players from the South. He was just a kid from a coal mining town in Pennsylvania who didn't know any better."
Eight years later, after the Dodgers finally defeated the Yankees in the 1955 World Series, was Furillo, joyfully dancing cheek-to-cheek with Robinson at the team's victory party.
"That one moment spoke more to be about the change of a man's attitudes more than any words could."
Another memorable time came during a game against the St. Louis Cardinals. Rodney decided to walk around the concourse of Sportsman's Park when he came across an exchange between a Black fan and a white fan. Robinson had just gotten a hit, when the Black fan stood up and started cheering.
"The white fan said 'Hey pal, what's the big deal rooting against the Cardinals? They're the home team.' The Black guy rolls his sleeve up and points to his arm and says "Once the Cardinals gets one of these, I'll root for them. But today I'm cheering for the Dodgers."
For an afternoon in Walnut Creek, Lester Rodney delighted my wife and I with story after story about the golden age of baseball. It was something that I won't soon forget. And he is someone I won't ever forget.
*Note Although he was never an official member of the Communist Party, Rodney had leftist leanings. His attitude changed around the time of the Soviet Union's invasion of Hungary in 1956 when he became aware of Stalin's methods, After leaving the paper, he moved West to become the religion editor for the Long Beach Press Telegram. Ironic, considering he was an atheist in his previous job.
For more information I recommend reading Irwin Silber's book, "Press Box Red".
Below is an article I wrote on Jackie Robinson Day in 2007.
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Tuesday, June 4, 2013
And His Mountains Echoed-Writer Khaled Hosseini on Story
In his 48 years on
this earth, writer Khaled Hosseini has already lived a life worthy of the
novels he has penned. And from the time
he was a young child in Kabul Afghanistan, through a family move to Paris,
subsequent political asylum and citizenship in the U.S. a year after the Soviet
invasion of his country, and eventually a successful medical practice before a
prolific literary career, the two constants in his life have been family and
the stories that have accompanied it.
And now, following
his publishing of the 2003 novel “The Kite Runner” an international bestseller that was adapted into a feature
film as well as another bestseller 2007’s “A Thousand Splendid Suns”, Riverhead Publishing has recently released his third
piece of fiction “And the Mountains Echoed”-a multi-generational family saga that spans generations of
people whose locations parallel his own path. The story begins in Afghanistan,
the same place he learned the wonders of story as a child as Mr. Hosseini fondly
recalled.
AND THE MOUNTAINS ECHOED BY KHALED HOSSEINI
RIVERHEAD BOOKS
“There were a number of really
good storytellers from my childhood, but my grandmother was the most consistent
one,” Mr. Hosseini said. “She was very good at telling them whether they were
completely made up with creatures like the div
in the opening chapter of this novel or (they were) us experiences from her
childhood like the time she went to Mecca with her mother when she was a little
girl. Maybe it was my personal bias and
I am blinded by nostalgia, but I thought they were the best because she was a
ready storyteller and I had a willing ear to take in those stories.”
From those tales, a young storyteller
developed his own craft.
“When I was a kid I remember
very distinctly the parties we would have two or three times a week,” he said. “Our families socialized a
great deal and we always had no fewer than 10 kids around. One of the games we used to play was to sit
around the room and each person would have to get up and tell a story. And either it was good and people would ask
them to continue, or it was bad and they would stop.”
“I guess I was good because I remember when it was my turn I
always felt a kind of hush descended on the room and it seemed like people were
really tuned in,” Mr. Hosseini said. “That was sort of one of the first times I noticed that I
really enjoyed that effect of telling a story and have somebody pay attention.
So I started writing them down when I was 9 or 10-years-old.”
Years later, the
author inserted one of his childhood stories it into his first novel “The Kite Runner” .In the novel, Amir, a young
Afghan boy tells his best friend Hassan a story of a poor, but happy man who
found a magic cup that makes him rich provided he could produce tears. Greed eventually overcomes the man and he
eventually tragically loses all that is important to him.
A year-and-a-half after the release of “The Kite Runner”, which by then was in the
midst of spending 101 weeks on the bestseller list (four weeks at the top
spot), the physician left his practice
to write full time. In 2007, Riverhead
published “A Thousand Splendid Suns” a novel that came from a female perspective that also
spent weeks on the bestseller lists and has been adapted into a film scheduled
to be released in 2015.
While on that tour as well as acting as a Goodwill
Envoy for the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) through his
own foundation, Mr. Hosseini traveled to Afghanistan and was struck by a scene
of a father towing two young children in a Radio Flyer red wagon.
What followed was a
six-year process of trial and error that initially didn’t produce the results
he desired. On top of this, his father
Nasser had fallen seriously ill in 2007 and his writing stopped when Mr.
Hosseini and his wife Roya assisted his mother Maimoona as Nasser Hosseini’s
caregiver.
“I just wasn’t in the
mood to write,” Mr. Hosseini explained.
Toward the end of his
father’s life in November 2009, Khaled Hosseini began to complete “And the
Mountains Echoed” in earnest taking two and a half years from that point to
finish.
While the book’s
central themes evolve around the lives of a brother by the name of Abdullah and
his sister named Pari, it expands beyond an even extended family that endures
life and death and the realization of their fates through their actions. It is a book that is partially influenced by
his own experiences, including his father’s passing.
“Certainly that last
year of my dad’s life was very vivid in my mind and some of the passages were
quite a conscious annotation to my own experience because part of this book is
about people who have become the victims of time,” Mr. Hosseini said. “But ultimately, this story is about the pull of the family.
It's about how we want to belong to something bigger than ourselves and how no
matter how far apart we are, we have this longing for reunion and finding each
other. While we may be separated by time or by physical space to stretch the
fibers of our being, the strength is so that they won't snap. They just bring you
back.”
While there are similar central things of
family and memory, “And the Mountains Echoed” is entirely different from Mr. Hosseini’s first two books in the sense of voice as well as its
nonlinear pattern, which spans nearly eight decades.
“I wanted each chapter to
reveal something to advance the story from something the reader already read.
But I wanted each chapter to more or less stand on its own to some extent and
be a part of something bigger that collectively can tell one big story. And
that meant each chapter had to come to some dramatically satisfying resolution. It couldn't be a straightforward narrative
novel where you can kind of bleed one chapter to the next and go onto the next
thing and it just jumps forward.”
After joking that his biggest thrill about
writing the book was completing it, Mr. Hosseini said that he felt an enormous
sense of relief that after going down several blind alleys into dead ends, the
different paths joined together in a satisfying conclusion.
“It was more challenging to write and to some
extent it is more challenging for readers to read because it does require a
more active engagement with the story,” Mr. Hosseini said. “You do have to
connect dots and you do have to pay attention and remember things. You will have moments where you will be ‘Oh
now I get why this happens and what this character meant’. I have really loved books like that-ones
that make me re-read earlier parts to understand what I'm reading now so I am actively
engaged with the story. Hopefully, the
readers feel the same.”
Review "And the Mountains Echoed"
By Mike Takeuchi
A few weeks ago at a local restaurant, a
local woman named Diane spotted this writer with a preview copy of Khaled
Hosseini's "And the Mountains Echoed"
and expressed that she had long anticipated the latest work of a writer
that penned both the 2003 bestseller "The Kite Runner" and successful
2007 follow-up "A Thousand Splendid Suns"-two books that sold a
combined 38-million copies. Well, Diane
and many others will discover that "And the Mountains Echoed" is a
work that is well-worth the wait.
It is fitting in more ways than one that Mr.
Hosseini's latest book title is derived from a line (“And the hills echoed”) from William Blake's poem
"The Nurse's Song" and altered
it to reflect his native Afghanistan's mountainous topography. Because
"And the Mountains Echoed" combines the love the author has for
family, memories and his place of birth with the lyrical flow of the Rumi poem
that precedes a story that beautifully interweaves the multi-generational saga
of an Afghani family and the people who they affect and, in turn, affect them.
The nonlinear story, in which the writer got
the idea while observing a man pull two children in a red wagon during a 2007
trip to Afghanistan with the UN Refugee Agency, begins simply enough by
examining the close relationship between a young boy Abdullah and his even
younger sister Pari who live together in a remote Afghani village with their
father and stepmother.
The two are as happy as can be until the
impoverished family’s father gives up three-year-old
Pari for adoption to a well-to-do couple who live in Kabul via an uncle while
10-year-old Abdullah sadly stays to live with his family. While Abdullah's thoughts are about the
lament of losing his sister, Pari and her adoptive mother Nila, an accomplished
poet, leave Afghanistan due to unforeseen circumstances and move to Paris, it
further tears the siblings apart.
From there the story expands into something
akin to a complex literary labyrinth whose pathways are ultimately revealed in
each of the next eight chapters-each coming from a different person's
perspective over a period of eight decades. For the first time in Mr.
Hosseini's literary body of work, extends beyond the boundaries of his native
Afghanistan, into Greece, Northern California as well as the aforementioned
Paris.
In his most ambitious work to date in terms
of story structure and perspective shift, Mr. Hosseini successfully challenges
active readers to not only navigate through the story but to understand and
empathize with the complexities of the decisions the book's characters
face. In this sense, much like bringing
a scorecard to a ballgame, perhaps having a pen and notebook nearby would be
helpful to see the connections the characters have with their emotions and
actions as well as with each other.
Because of Mr. Hosseini’s style, "And the Mountains Echoed" is a work
that's not necessarily a page-turner rushing headlong toward a conclusion, but rather
a book that is to be savored before it is ultimately ingested-especially during
its satisfying climax. In this book more
than the others, Mr. Hosseini has proven to be a master craftsman who can cull
together the tale of the fates of his characters without having to state it
obviously.
But most importantly in "And the
Mountains Echoed", the former physician has once again proven to be adept
at not just ripping out one's heartstrings but rather precisely removing them
with surgical precision before gently repairing them through his superlative
storytelling ability -leaving the reader sighing or perhaps shedding a tear or
two after the last word is read. This
writer's only disappointment is that readers may have to wait another
half-decade before Khaled Hosseini's next book.
Monday, March 18, 2013
LINSANITY The Movie-Director Leong Takes the Journey Alongside the Phenomenon that is Jeremy Lin
Below is the link to a post that went up today on the Cannes-based film site, filmfestivals.com. Sorry for the slight inconvenience. I wanted to put this up directly, but since it was published elsewhere, thought it would be best that I didn't. Thanks for looking.
http://www.filmfestivals.com/blog/mike_takeuchi/directors_linsanity_evan_jackson_leongs_journey_to_tell_jeremy_lins_story#.UUeoaQxBPVA.facebook
"Linsanity" director Evan Jackson Leong presenting his film at San Francisco's CAAMFest on March 14, 2013 at the Castro Theatre. By Mike Takeuchi
Sunday, February 24, 2013
An Insider's (Not Really) Thoughts on the Oscars
By Michael Takeuchi

(That's me half exposed between the two smiling dudes.)
I'm not really an insider but I do know some people. But then so does everyone else.
Love them or hate them-and I do simultaneously-the Academy Awards aka the Oscars will spark debate on what the best film of a particular year is. In truth, there really is no universal best film, director, actor or actress obviously, as it is all subjective. And the 5700 plus members who deem the Oscar winners, are according to John Horn of the Los Angeles Times (2012) 94% white, 77% male and with a median age of 62. Mitt Romney would have welcomed those numbers if a majority of them weren't liberal leaning, which they most likely are.
So to try and figure the winner out, one just has to factor those into thinking-not what should be the winner based on our own opinion. That being said, it looks like Argo is the one to beat, but more on that later.
Oscar is an Anglophile
-Look at the history of the awards and one can see that in nearly every year, an English man or woman have distinguished themselves in the eyes of Hollywood. This year, it is no different with Daniel Day Lewis who is most likely the finest actor of this generation. And with overall schmaltziness of LINCOLN aside, his performance was by far the best of any actor this year.
Oscar likes young ladies
-Since 1996 save two, all the Academy Best Actress in a Leading Role winners have been under 40 at the time they took home the golden statue. The only exceptions are Helen Mirren in 2006 for THE QUEEN who of course is English, and Meryl Streep who played England's prime minister Margaret Thatcher. Plus the Streep Factor was in full effect. I mean 17 noms and three wins. For God's sake Streep could win it if she played Mike Tyson playing Gandhi-which rumor has it, the former champ talked about. Meaning, this doesn't bode well for Emmanuel Riva who is neither under 40 (she's amazingly 86 today!) nor English (French) while if favors Jennifer Lawrence and Jessica (I always call her Brandi because I'm a sportswriter) Chastain.
Oscar Loves Pixar and So Do I-
that said, with six wins in the last nine years, it is almost automatic for the Norcal studio to produce a Best Animated Feature winner-even if they may or may not be the best of that year. Looking at comparing the winning films with fellow nominated films of '03 with FINDING NEMO (as opposed to THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE), '07's RATATOUILLE (PERSEPOLIS), '09 UP! (CORALINE and THE FANTASTIC MR. FOX) and TOY STORY 3 (THE ILLUSIONIST), one could find strength in this argument. By picking Pixar it's not really
a BRAVE choice.
Oscar follows No Rules-(but only if it concerns SUPPORTING ACTOR/ACTRESS)
-Deserved winners or not, this category is all over the map from worthy performances to head scratchers like this year's favorite Anne Hathaway who was on the screen for a scant few minutes in Les Miserables (a film I admit I could not sit through), but most likely will win. On the men's side, for possibly the first time in history five past winners will vie for the statue with Tommie Lee Jones the solid favorite for his portrayal of abolitionistThaddeus Stevens although I liked Christoph Waltz's turn as Dr. King Schultz in DJANGO UNCHAINED much better.
Oscar Loves Harvey Weinstein (Even if he makes people love them)
- Since 1995 with PULP FICTION, Harvey and Bob-whether it was from their Miramax (sweetly named after their parents Mira and Max) or their own Weinstein Company, one of the films they produced or distributed has won or been nominated in every year since. Their breakout year was in 1998/'99 when SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE upset Best Director winner Steven Spielberg's SAVING PRIVATE RYAN for Best Picture. On top of that, his Roberto Benigni star and directed movie LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL, was a fellow nominee and then won Best Foreign Film.
The Weinstein Company, which I admit I am an admirer of, has taken home BP statues the last two years for THE KING'S SPEECH (2011) and THE ARTIST last year. There are many negatives by others, and they have perhaps somewhat accurately been called the movies' New York Yankees or Evil Empire. But look at it this way, from the studio to their publicists, the Weinstein organization is something to behold come awards time.
They run their films like they are political candidates and won't stop until their films win (are elected) or drop trying. This year, in terms of BP, it may be the latter as ARGO, perhaps playing on the sympathy of the Best Directing snub to a deserving Ben Affleck, it gained momentum. Regardless, ARGO is a solid if not outstanding film that has all the elements-cinematography, editing, sound, story and exemplary if not recognized acting to win the top prize.
For a consolation prize, Harvey may cop a few awards thanks to SILVER LINING PLAYBOOK director David O. Russell and screenwriter and my bro Quentin Tarantino for DJANGO UNCHAINED.
Oscar doesn't mind poking fun at itself just as long as it doesn't go too far
-Andy Samberg's hilarious "f--- you Hollywood!" monologue at yesterday's INDEPENDENT SPIRIT AWARDS seemingly went over well on camera. But in person, there was a little nervous laughter and some wonder if Samberg's career dissipation light wasn't going into high gear at the time. I hope not, because he added levity to a world of self absorption and despite this, one I love.
(That's me half exposed between the two smiling dudes.)
I'm not really an insider but I do know some people. But then so does everyone else.
Love them or hate them-and I do simultaneously-the Academy Awards aka the Oscars will spark debate on what the best film of a particular year is. In truth, there really is no universal best film, director, actor or actress obviously, as it is all subjective. And the 5700 plus members who deem the Oscar winners, are according to John Horn of the Los Angeles Times (2012) 94% white, 77% male and with a median age of 62. Mitt Romney would have welcomed those numbers if a majority of them weren't liberal leaning, which they most likely are.
So to try and figure the winner out, one just has to factor those into thinking-not what should be the winner based on our own opinion. That being said, it looks like Argo is the one to beat, but more on that later.
Oscar is an Anglophile
-Look at the history of the awards and one can see that in nearly every year, an English man or woman have distinguished themselves in the eyes of Hollywood. This year, it is no different with Daniel Day Lewis who is most likely the finest actor of this generation. And with overall schmaltziness of LINCOLN aside, his performance was by far the best of any actor this year.
Oscar likes young ladies
-Since 1996 save two, all the Academy Best Actress in a Leading Role winners have been under 40 at the time they took home the golden statue. The only exceptions are Helen Mirren in 2006 for THE QUEEN who of course is English, and Meryl Streep who played England's prime minister Margaret Thatcher. Plus the Streep Factor was in full effect. I mean 17 noms and three wins. For God's sake Streep could win it if she played Mike Tyson playing Gandhi-which rumor has it, the former champ talked about. Meaning, this doesn't bode well for Emmanuel Riva who is neither under 40 (she's amazingly 86 today!) nor English (French) while if favors Jennifer Lawrence and Jessica (I always call her Brandi because I'm a sportswriter) Chastain.
Oscar Loves Pixar and So Do I-
that said, with six wins in the last nine years, it is almost automatic for the Norcal studio to produce a Best Animated Feature winner-even if they may or may not be the best of that year. Looking at comparing the winning films with fellow nominated films of '03 with FINDING NEMO (as opposed to THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE), '07's RATATOUILLE (PERSEPOLIS), '09 UP! (CORALINE and THE FANTASTIC MR. FOX) and TOY STORY 3 (THE ILLUSIONIST), one could find strength in this argument. By picking Pixar it's not really
a BRAVE choice.
Oscar follows No Rules-(but only if it concerns SUPPORTING ACTOR/ACTRESS)
-Deserved winners or not, this category is all over the map from worthy performances to head scratchers like this year's favorite Anne Hathaway who was on the screen for a scant few minutes in Les Miserables (a film I admit I could not sit through), but most likely will win. On the men's side, for possibly the first time in history five past winners will vie for the statue with Tommie Lee Jones the solid favorite for his portrayal of abolitionistThaddeus Stevens although I liked Christoph Waltz's turn as Dr. King Schultz in DJANGO UNCHAINED much better.
Oscar Loves Harvey Weinstein (Even if he makes people love them)
- Since 1995 with PULP FICTION, Harvey and Bob-whether it was from their Miramax (sweetly named after their parents Mira and Max) or their own Weinstein Company, one of the films they produced or distributed has won or been nominated in every year since. Their breakout year was in 1998/'99 when SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE upset Best Director winner Steven Spielberg's SAVING PRIVATE RYAN for Best Picture. On top of that, his Roberto Benigni star and directed movie LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL, was a fellow nominee and then won Best Foreign Film.
The Weinstein Company, which I admit I am an admirer of, has taken home BP statues the last two years for THE KING'S SPEECH (2011) and THE ARTIST last year. There are many negatives by others, and they have perhaps somewhat accurately been called the movies' New York Yankees or Evil Empire. But look at it this way, from the studio to their publicists, the Weinstein organization is something to behold come awards time.
They run their films like they are political candidates and won't stop until their films win (are elected) or drop trying. This year, in terms of BP, it may be the latter as ARGO, perhaps playing on the sympathy of the Best Directing snub to a deserving Ben Affleck, it gained momentum. Regardless, ARGO is a solid if not outstanding film that has all the elements-cinematography, editing, sound, story and exemplary if not recognized acting to win the top prize.
For a consolation prize, Harvey may cop a few awards thanks to SILVER LINING PLAYBOOK director David O. Russell and screenwriter and my bro Quentin Tarantino for DJANGO UNCHAINED.
Oscar doesn't mind poking fun at itself just as long as it doesn't go too far
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Barry Zito-The Left-Hander That Wasn't a Lefty
By
Michael Takeuchi
Watching the TIVO of Giants pitcher Barry Zito (I had to
cover a volleyball match of all things) mastering the St. Louis Cardinals in
Game 5 of the National League Championship Series, took me back to the not-so-distant
past.
Years
ago, when he was pitching for the Oakland Athletics, Barry Zito agreed to do an interview with me
for a small publication I was working for at the time. Zito, who had already won the Cy Young three
seasons prior, had a lot of demands on his time. But since I told him we were both fellow UCSB
Gauchos, I hit the magic button even though he only pitched there for one season, before moving onto L.A. Pierce, and then USC.
Zito
gave me a precise time on when to meet him while also telling me exactly
where and how much time he could give me as he was pitching the following day.
I found the structured schedule a bit
unnerving as the left-handed pitcher had a reputation of being...well, a
lefty. The term lefty, is often unfairly compared with someone being a flake. And at the time, Zito certainly filled the stereotype. He surfed, played guitar,
and did yoga while also talking about a universal life force. In other words, he was a free
spirit. But on this day, while polite, Zito was all business and I didn't dare cross him.
The next day, I arrived an hour early at the
Oakland Coliseum, now named the O.o. Coliseum or something like that, to
prepare. While getting ready, instead of
talking about UCSB, where we went a decade apart, I decided
to break the ice by talking about yoga and surfing, two things I knew a
little bit about.
Walking down the then (and now) ancient, but
memory-filled stadium tunnel to the home dugout, I remember thinking about the
players who walked the same path. Catfish, Reggie, Vida, Rollie, Sal, my
favorite Campy and even Ray Fosse, the catcher who had the misfortune of being
bowled over at the plate by my least favorite baseball player (and perhaps
athlete) Pete Rose in the 1970 All-Star game
On that play, Fosse apparently suffered a separated right shoulder. According to legend, Fosse was never the
same player again although other accounts dispute this.
Reaching the field on that bright summer
afternoon, I stepped inside the home dugout, if one can call it such. It consisted of a green cushioned bench, a
bat and helmet rack, but no rail. I
never understood the fact that the dugouts had no front railing. But with the Coliseum also being the home of
the Oakland Raiders, this seemed as natural as the aircraft carrier-like luxury
boxes beyond the outfield fence courtesy of the whims of Al Davis.
Taking my seat at the far end while the team
started to take the field for batting practice.
Still 20 minutes early, I watched the collegial banter of the players
during warm-ups and then the beginning of batting practice. I was having so much fun, I hadn't noticed
that the interview was supposed to have begun 10 minutes prior.
Looking at the watch, I started to get that
antsy feeling of a kid sitting in the classroom waiting for summer vacation to
begin. All of the Athletics had taken the field by this time, all except
Zito. After 30 minutes, I finally asked
an A's staffer about the whereabouts of the pitcher. The staffer said that he was in need
of some extra treatment and wouldn't be taking the field during batting
practice.
Sigh.
Curses, foiled again.
Throughout the entirety of that night's game,
all I could think of was the interview that wasn't. Halfway through, I regrouped my thoughts in
hope of getting the interview after the game, which isn't always the best time
for a reporter. There is an unspoken
agreement between players and reporters that that time, which is about 15
minutes after the last out or run scored is recorded, is used to briefly
interview players who were on the field for that particular time. If one wanted a lengthy interview, reporters
would have to wait until batting practice the next day.
This of course, didn't help this small town
scribe, who had to leave the morning after the next game. Since Zito was pitching the next night, he
would be incommunicado as another cardinal rule is that reporters don't talk to
a starting pitcher on the day he takes the bump. So essentially, I was SOL big time-which was
not as bad as Zito was during his start.
With his first pitch against the White Sox,
Zito missed the strike zone badly. And
the second, and the third. His 12-6
curve, was starting at midnight, but dropping only as far as a batter's
wheelhouse-bad sign. And the A's
pitcher paid the price, giving up something like seven runs in less than five
innings.
This was almost as bad for me, because I knew
that if he pitched well, I might have a chance to interview him for a few
minutes after. But he if he didn't, we would be limited to a few questions before it was time to skedaddle.
After the game, an Oakland loss, reporters waited in a cluster
outside of the clubhouse until we went in to manager Ken Macha's office before
the players would be made available for interviews.
While many changed quietly (a win brings
music while a loss only brings silence-just like the Jeremy Giambi scene from MONEYBALL), others sat at tables silently
eating dinner while reporters hovered awkwardly around them. Zito, got out of
the shower area, went to his locker
while the gaggle followed him.
After dressing, Zito was given a few questions on the
assessment of his outing, but nothing major.
Despite the relative softball (no pun intended) questions, Zito looked
bored and it looked like that locker room represented the last place he wanted
to be. Yet he answered them before the beat writers, satisfied with the
pitcher's quotes, walked away to move onto other players while Zito grabbed a plate of food and sat down to eat.
With most of the other reporters gone, this
rube didn't know what to do. Knowing I had to get the interview, I wanted to
stay, but also knowing protocol I knew I had to leave, especially since everybody had already left. Resigned, I
decided to join them and turned to leave.
Just then, Zito got up from the table.
"Hey Mike, were you waiting on me?"
Zito asked. "Sorry man, the trainer
had me get extra treatment yesterday. I guess it didn't help."
Shocked and awed, I laughed and said it
wasn't a problem.
"It's late for you but we could do that
interview now if you want."
"Uh
sure, that would be great thanks."
We sat down at the same table he was eating
at and began the interview with the clubhouse attendants being the only other people around.
By the time the interview was done about a half an
hour later, everyone except a security guard who was waiting patiently nearby
had already left. Before he went his way
and I went mine, Zito shook my hand and wished me luck with the story.
Playing back the recording the next day, I
realized I couldn't use very much of it because it was more like two dudes
chilling in the locker room. I did
manage to get enough to make a marginal story that was cut down to its bare
minimum. But I didn't care. I got my interview who became one of my still-favorite players to boot.
Thanks Lefty.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
THE END OF TODDANDPHIL
By Michael Takeuchi
*On September 17, 2012, the Associated Press reported that pro beach volleyball players Phil Dalhausser and longtime partner Todd Rogers, who together won numerous tournaments including an Olympic gold medal in 2008 , would not be playing together next year. According to the AP story, Dalhausser would partner with Sean Rosenthal next year. Six days earlier in the Santa Barbara News-Press, this journalist reported that this would most likely happen.
Below, while largely using the same quotes, I wrote a personalized account of the impending parting of ways that was updated to reflect the change.
"This is the end my beautiful friend. This is the end, my only friend. The end of our elaborate plans. The end of ev'rything that stands. The end." Jim Morrison and the Doors
When it comes to beach volleyball, the late Morrison's words couldn't be more apropos when referring to the accomplished beach volleyball tandem of Todd Rogers and Phil Dalhausser. Because it was recently reported that the "ToddandPhil", who won an Olympic gold medal at the 2008 Beijing Olympics, five AVP (Association of Volleyball Professionals) titles from 2007 to '11 and countless other titles, are done, fini, awarimashita.
I wish it ain't so, but unfortunately it is thus.
On September 8 at the AVP Championships in Santa Barbara, shortly after losing a playoff match to eventual champions Rosenthal and Jake Gibb (after which Rosenthal, who along with two of his "Rosie's Raiders" compadres trash talked him from across the beach as both players headed to the ocean to cool off), Dalhausser was noncommittal. But at the time, his pause in speech and careful choice of words had me wondering if even he was doubting what he was saying.
"For this year yeah because we kind of had a rough year this year, (so) I haven't really put too much thought into it," Dalhausser said as he walked towards the water on the balmy afternoon. "I am sure we'll sit down and talk about it and make a decision but right now I'm just getting my bearings after the Olympics and dealing with moving."
When pressed, he did admit that he was considering teaming up with Rosenthal or his former partner Nick Lucena but that his only thoughts for the moment were to "enjoy a football game and have a beer".
Rogers, however was convinced at the time of this interview that after a disappointing year that included a loss in the round of 16 at the London Olympics, he was ready to move on.
"We had our run, it's been fun, but it's just the end of a good run," the Solvang resident said. "I highly doubt we'll be playing next year (together). We didn't have very much fun this year. There was a lot of on-court and off court that's gone on that made changes in our chemistry.
"Phil's a good guy don't get me wrong and I'm a good guy as well. I think we just set the bar so high and it's frustrating when you don't attain that bar now. You can make excuses with injuries or personal problems or changes in your life or whatever, the reality is for Phil and I to be successful we need a minimum four, five or six wins irrespective of (all that). We've had injuries in the past but still hit those numbers it's just the way that we look at it. "
"Since everything was centered on the Olympics, maybe if we won a gold medal this year, we would be thinking about playing together next year," Rogers said. "There's some sadness because a great run is over. But since it was successful run I can't have any regrets on it. "
I was strangely affected by Todd's words because being a sportswriter for the last 13 years has often taken the emotion and sometimes the romance out of watching sports. For example, when I look at the cancer beating Lance Armstrong, I now see Lyle Alzado, the late Oakland Raiders and Cleveland Browns defensive lineman who succumbed to a brain tumor that he admitted was at least partially caused by steroid abuse. I honestly wonder if the seven-time Tour de France winner had gone the same route.
Preposterous? Perhaps, but I confess those thoughts do pop into my head more often than naught. When it comes to a profession that I am part of but not wholly invested in (FYI I'm also the production manager for a mid-major (think WAC or MAC if you're a sports fan) film festival that caters to Oscar nominees), I am as cynical as they come, snickering in the press box at places like Dodger Stadium when an exaggerated attendance figure is announced or when a Beyonce wanna-be falsettos their way through a too-long National Anthem.
Through this all, I haven't become that hard-ass bitter man who hates the world like a former colleague of mine has. In fact movies like THE BICYCLE THIEF, things that are even more make believe than sports get to me frequently. On the other side of the reality spectrum, speaking publicly about losing loved ones to a terminal illness makes me bawl like a baby every time. Just ask certain members of the UCSB sports teams when I spoke to them. One athlete jokingly gave me a bottle of Johnson's Baby Shampoo (motto "No More Tears") after speaking.
But perhaps from my experiences with them, and watching and yes, (silently) rooting for Todd and Phill it is different. Because like the Dodgers 1970's infield of Steve Garvey, Davey Lopes, Bill Russell and Ron Cey one almost expected them to be together forever. Of course reality partially caused by age and different goals intervene.
While I haven't known Phil very long, I think I first met him when he threw out the first pitch at Dodger Stadium in 2008, I have known Todd for a number of years starting when he played for an old friend Dave Cruz-someone who had the sweetest setting hands in volleyball and a coach Rogers credits to this day for his early development.
I will never forget a match where his San Marcos High team played an epic five game (for us old-timers, they're still called game) match with Santa Barbara High in the Royals suffocating quonset hut of a gym nicknamed the Thunderhut. It was a match where you could count on one hand the time Rogers, who was the setter, put the ball up to a hitter with a double block.
From then he enjoyed a solid career at UCSB and after an assistant coaching stint with the Gauchos, a stellar partnership with fellow local Dax Holdren. Before Todd and Phil, it was Todd and Dax.
Once Todd and Phil united, the team became the tandem to beat on the beach winning AVP as well as Olympic qualifying FIVB events regularly enough to warrant attention from fans and others who recognized their potential. One such "incident" of this occurred at Santa Barbara's East Beach Pavilion.
While using the facilities at the historic building, this writer heard two men speaking to each other in a nearby stall. Because of a notorious reputation of elicit activity in a bathroom of a nearby park, upon hearing the voices I immediately thought of a hilarious scene from the underrated movie starring Robin Williams MOSCOW ON THE HUDSON, where Williams' character, a Russian immigrant in the U.S. confronted a man following him by demanding if he was CIA or KGB and the man responded by saying "No, G-A-Y."
While I was getting ready to get the heck out of Dodge, out pops Rogers followed by another man who happened to be a USADA officer taking the players urine sample for a PED testing that he of course, passed.
"Hi Mike," he said without a hint of embarrassment.
"Hi Todd," I answered blushing with more than a smidgeon of such.
Since then, it was through frequent conversations and meetings including a chill session on the field at Dodger Stadium with a relaxed but tired duo at Chavez Ravine that a fondness grew.
That is just the opposite of most athletes I covered-the more you get to know them, the less the mystique about them and hence, usually the less they are liked. Reality almost always spoils idealism. But in this case not so much-they were (are) two of the good ones, which is why I felt the need to go back and talk to Rogers a while after the first interview to verify if his feelings were unchanged.
After he finished signing autographs and posing for pictures from a still-adoring crowd, I started asking a question that he thankfully finished, sadness overcame me and he had to (correctly) guess that I wanted to ask about being disappointed in not pulling off a win in front of the Santa Barbara crowd.
"It's nice to be home always nice to be able to play in front of these fans, but everyone here has come to expect us to win everything," Rogers said. "It's time."
Volleyball players change partners like the wind. Just look at Karch Kiraly and Sinjin Smith parting ways in the early 80's, while the former became a two-time indoor gold medalist, the latter formed an unbeatable partnership on the beach with Randy Stoklos Even the three-time Olympic gold medalists Misty May Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings, who while one or the other took time away from the game, volleyed Nicole Branagh as a partner. With May Treanor retired, Walsh Jennings paired with Branagh at an FIVB event and then the AVP Cincinnati Open and AVP Championships-losing to April Ross and Jen Kessy in the finals of the latter two. And now, Walsh Jennings was quoted in a publication as having thoughts of Ross as a possible partner.
Sooner rather than later, it will be time for Rogers and Dalhausser to part ways. Although neither will retire (Rogers indicated he would like to play with a young player he could mentor), for me it was almost like reliving the breakup of Garvey, Cey, Russell, and Lopes all over again.
It is too soon and they are too young to be called legends, only time and opinion can decide that. But regardless of how they will be judged in the future, it can be said that they were at least very good together and both can (and will) still play.
In addition, the one thing this reporter can say is that win or lose, Rogers and Dalhausser were stand-up guys along with being great players. For volleyball fans like me, that is more than enough.
Thanks Todd and Phil. It was a privilege.
By Michael Takeuchi
*On September 17, 2012, the Associated Press wrote that pro beach volleyball players Phil Dalhausser and longtime partner Todd Rogers, who together won numerous tournaments including an Olympic gold medal in 2008 , would not be playing together next year. According to the AP story, Dalhausser would partner with Sean Rosenthal next year. Six days earlier in the Santa Barbara News-Press, this journalist reported that this would most likely happen.
Below, while largely using the same quotes, I wrote a personalized account of the impending parting of ways that was updated to reflect the change.
THE END
"This is the end my beautiful friend. This is the end, my only friend. The end of our elaborate plans. The end of ev'rything that stands. The end." Jim Morrison and the Doors
When it comes to beach volleyball, the late Morrison's words couldn't be more apropos when referring to the accomplished beach volleyball tandem of Todd Rogers and Phil Dalhausser. Because it was recently reported that the "ToddandPhil", who won an Olympic gold medal at the 2008 Beijing Olympics, five AVP (Association of Volleyball Professionals) titles from 2007 to '11 and countless other titles, are done, fini, awarimashita.
I wish it ain't so, but unfortunately it is thus.
On September 8 at the AVP Championships in Santa Barbara, shortly after losing a playoff match to eventual champions Rosenthal and Jake Gibb (after which Rosenthal, who along with two of his "Rosie's Raiders" compadres trash talked him from across the beach as both players headed to the ocean to cool off), Dalhausser was noncommittal. But at the time, his pause in speech and careful choice of words had me wondering if even he was doubting what he was saying.
"For this year yeah because we kind of had a rough year this year, (so) I haven't really put too much thought into it," Dalhausser said as he walked towards the water on the balmy afternoon. "I am sure we'll sit down and talk about it and make a decision but right now I'm just getting my bearings after the Olympics and dealing with moving."
When pressed, he did admit that he was considering teaming up with Rosenthal or his former partner Nick Lucena but that his only thoughts for the moment were to "enjoy a football game and have a beer".
Rogers, however was convinced at the time of this interview that after a disappointing year that included a loss in the round of 16 at the London Olympics, he was ready to move on.
"We had our run, it's been fun, but it's just the end of a good run," the Solvang resident said. "I highly doubt we'll be playing next year (together). We didn't have very much fun this year. There was a lot of on-court and off court that's gone on that made changes in our chemistry.
"Phil's a good guy don't get me wrong and I'm a good guy as well. I think we just set the bar so high and it's frustrating when you don't attain that bar now. You can make excuses with injuries or personal problems or changes in your life or whatever, the reality is for Phil and I to be successful we need a minimum four, five or six wins irrespective of (all that). We've had injuries in the past but still hit those numbers it's just the way that we look at it. "
"Since everything was centered on the Olympics, maybe if we won a gold medal this year, we would be thinking about playing together next year," Rogers said. "There's some sadness because a great run is over. But since it was successful run I can't have any regrets on it. "
I was strangely affected by Todd's words because being a sportswriter for the last 13 years has often taken the emotion and sometimes the romance out of watching sports. For example, when I look at the cancer beating Lance Armstrong, I now see Lyle Alzado, the late Oakland Raiders and Cleveland Browns defensive lineman who succumbed to a brain tumor that he admitted was at least partially caused by steroid abuse. I honestly wonder if the seven-time Tour de France winner had gone the same route.
Preposterous? Perhaps, but I confess those thoughts do pop into my head more often than naught. When it comes to a profession that I am part of but not wholly invested in (FYI I'm also the production manager for a mid-major (think WAC or MAC if you're a sports fan) film festival that caters to Oscar nominees), I am as cynical as they come, snickering in the press box at places like Dodger Stadium when an exaggerated attendance figure is announced or when a Beyonce wanna-be falsettos their way through a too-long National Anthem.
Through this all, I haven't become that hard-ass bitter man who hates the world like a former colleague of mine has. In fact movies like THE BICYCLE THIEF, things that are even more make believe than sports get to me frequently. On the other side of the reality spectrum, speaking publicly about losing loved ones to a terminal illness makes me bawl like a baby every time. Just ask certain members of the UCSB sports teams when I spoke to them. One athlete jokingly gave me a bottle of Johnson's Baby Shampoo (motto "No More Tears") after speaking.
But perhaps from my experiences with them, and watching and yes, (silently) rooting for Todd and Phill it is different. Because like the Dodgers 1970's infield of Steve Garvey, Davey Lopes, Bill Russell and Ron Cey one almost expected them to be together forever. Of course reality partially caused by age and different goals intervene.
While I haven't known Phil very long, I think I first met him when he threw out the first pitch at Dodger Stadium in 2008, I have known Todd for a number of years starting when he played for an old friend Dave Cruz-someone who had the sweetest setting hands in volleyball and a coach Rogers credits to this day for his early development.
I will never forget a match where his San Marcos High team played an epic five game (for us old-timers, they're still called game) match with Santa Barbara High in the Royals suffocating quonset hut of a gym nicknamed the Thunderhut. It was a match where you could count on one hand the time Rogers, who was the setter, put the ball up to a hitter with a double block.
From then he enjoyed a solid career at UCSB and after an assistant coaching stint with the Gauchos, a stellar partnership with fellow local Dax Holdren. Before Todd and Phil, it was Todd and Dax.
Once Todd and Phil united, the team became the tandem to beat on the beach winning AVP as well as Olympic qualifying FIVB events regularly enough to warrant attention from fans and others who recognized their potential. One such "incident" of this occurred at Santa Barbara's East Beach Pavilion.
While using the facilities at the historic building, this writer heard two men speaking to each other in a nearby stall. Because of a notorious reputation of elicit activity in a bathroom of a nearby park, upon hearing the voices I immediately thought of a hilarious scene from the underrated movie starring Robin Williams MOSCOW ON THE HUDSON, where Williams' character, a Russian immigrant in the U.S. confronted a man following him by demanding if he was CIA or KGB and the man responded by saying "No, G-A-Y."
While I was getting ready to get the heck out of Dodge, out pops Rogers followed by another man who happened to be a USADA officer taking the players urine sample for a PED testing that he of course, passed.
"Hi Mike," he said without a hint of embarrassment.
"Hi Todd," I answered blushing with more than a smidgeon of such.
Since then, it was through frequent conversations and meetings including a chill session on the field at Dodger Stadium with a relaxed but tired duo at Chavez Ravine that a fondness grew.
That is just the opposite of most athletes I covered-the more you get to know them, the less the mystique about them and hence, usually the less they are liked. Reality almost always spoils idealism. But in this case not so much-they were (are) two of the good ones, which is why I felt the need to go back and talk to Rogers a while after the first interview to verify if his feelings were unchanged.
After he finished signing autographs and posing for pictures from a still-adoring crowd, I started asking a question that he thankfully finished, sadness overcame me and he had to (correctly) guess that I wanted to ask about being disappointed in not pulling off a win in front of the Santa Barbara crowd.
"It's nice to be home always nice to be able to play in front of these fans, but everyone here has come to expect us to win everything," Rogers said. "It's time."
Volleyball players change partners like the wind. Just look at Karch Kiraly and Sinjin Smith parting ways in the early 80's, while the former became a two-time indoor gold medalist, the latter formed an unbeatable partnership on the beach with Randy Stoklos Even the three-time Olympic gold medalists Misty May Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings, who while one or the other took time away from the game, volleyed Nicole Branagh as a partner. With May Treanor retired, Walsh Jennings paired with Branagh at an FIVB event and then the AVP Cincinnati Open and AVP Championships-losing to April Ross and Jen Kessy in the finals of the latter two. And now, Walsh Jennings was quoted in a publication as having thoughts of Ross as a possible partner.
Sooner rather than later, it will be time for Rogers and Dalhausser to part ways. Although neither will retire (Rogers indicated he would like to play with a young player he could mentor), for me it was almost like reliving the breakup of Garvey, Cey, Russell, and Lopes all over again.
It is too soon and they are too young to be called legends, only time and opinion can decide that. But regardless of how they will be judged in the future, it can be said that they were at least very good together and both can (and will) still play.
In addition, the one thing this reporter can say is that win or lose, Rogers and Dalhausser were stand-up guys along with being great players. For volleyball fans like me, that is more than enough.
Thanks Todd and Phil. It was a privilege.
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