Tagging, You're It

My brother (not pictured) made a movie recommendation that I (also not pictured) had to take him up on.

He told me I should see a film called "Exit Through The Gift Shop."

To be perfectly honest, as he explained it to me on facebook chat, I sort of tuned out (maybe it's because that chat is so sporatic).

Oh here comes professor Jon with another of his movies that no one has heard of, I bet it's subtitled. Throw in the word "noir" and he'd be pitching a pants-tent.

Dude was right though (as usual).

This movie is outstanding and you should go see it yesterday.
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I don't want to get TOO into the plot of the movie.

It's a documentary that explores street art and the artists.

The reason I don't want to tell you the story is because the movie does such a better job than I ever could.

It unfolds in a clear and fascinating way.

So rather than talk about plot, I'd rather discuss some of the ideological questions that the film raises.
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The movie explores the legitimatization of graffiti artists.

Basically, these artists go from petty criminals, to high-demand artists selling their work for hundreds of thousands of dollars at auction houses.

After the movie, I went across Sunset Place to Barnes Ignoble where they were selling a big book with the work of Banksy, one of the artists profiled in the film.

How does that impact your work?

It becomes hard to "keep it real" when all of a sudden everything you do, is adored by the people you abhor.

Mock me, I'll give you 100K for it.

It inevitably changes you.

I think that's why the word "gift shop" worked its way into the title.

It's not just about art, it's about commerce and the nature of selling out.

The "selling" isn't in there by accident.
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There's also a struggle once this art is legitimatized that copy-cats come in and steal credibility.

So here are these artists, they've risked arrest, their lives (you'd be amazed by the lengths they have to go to to put their art on cities)... and they've achieved what they claim they don't want: legitimacy.

And now, others come in and poach their style having paid none of the dues.

The originals want to rip these copy-cats.

The problem is: The whole point to their art is, there are no rules.

So what now?

Street graffiti isn't the only medium where this takes place: music, books, just about any art form.

It's like listening to hip-hop on Y100, is it real hip-hop anymore? Do the artists care if they're on their yacht?
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The nature of art vs. vandalism is an inherent subtext to any discussion of this modern art form.

It's beautiful when you look at it on the movie screen.

Not so much fun when someone tags your storefront.

The lines between artist, criminal, and fraud are thin, and that's sort of the point of the movie.

Is the protagonist a genius, a fake, a madman, a tagger, a filmmaker, or as he professes to be Mr. Brainwash?

I'm not sure.

But I sure enjoyed the heck out of the movie.

Four-Fingered Salute...

It was an emotional weekend for Joe Torre (not pictured) and for Yankees fans.

The Yankees returned to LA to take on the Dodgers.

Most importantly, it was the first time that Joe Torre and Don Mattingly ever OPPOSED the Yankees.

It was strange as a fan.

It was surreal.

And more importantly, as a 3-game series, it was ****ing awesome!
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There are really two stories that were at work.

There was the baseball story.

This was a potential World Series preview. This is a rivalry that goes back to Jackie Robinson sliding under Yogi Berra in the World Series. This is the two biggest media markets, two of the biggest payrolls.

All of that.

And, more compelling in my view, there was the human story.
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I read Joe Torre's book "The Yankee Years" and I watched him build an empire in New York.

The day he was signed the New York papers ran a headline "Clueless Joe." He went from that, to four world championships.

Along the way, Torre always demonstrated class, dignity, and a quality that made people hate the Yankees less.

That's hard to do.

Even Yankee haters respect Jeter, Rivera, and Posada (Pettitte would be on this list but he cheated).

Torre was also on that list.
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That said, to write a tell-all book about your players, WHILE YOU ARE STILL MANAGING, is pretty bush league.

Seriously.

I read the book with great interest.

But did he really need to rip AROD like that?

For a guy who excudes class, I thought it was a cheap money-grab.

But more importantly, I thought it reflected how truly HURT he was by the end of his Yankee years.

Not only did Torre not go out on his own terms, but he was essentially made to grovel for his job.

In the book, he stooped to management's level.
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Which brings me back to this weekend.

Yes, there were emotional reunions.

Jeter hugged Torre.

Mariano hugged Torre.

Billy Crystal showed up wearing a Switzerland Hat (he's a Yankees fan but close friends with Torre).

Jack wore a Yankees hat (is there a bigger front-runner on planet earth--- really? Yankees and Lakers? Does he go to Vegas to cheer on the dealers?)

And the games were great.

Friday night, 2-1 win for New York. CC Sabathia and Mariano combined to shut down the Dodgers. AROD hit a beautiful F-U home run.

Saturday, the Dodgers strike back. They trounce the Yankees as Reggie Jackson and Tommy Lasorda shoot the stuff in the Fox broadcast booth (note to Tim McCarver: less is more, it's not about you when two legends are riffing).

Sunday: The Yankees trail 6-2 in the 9th. They had a 9th inning rally off Dodgers closer Jonathan Broxton and eventually won in the 10th on a 2-run homer by Robinson Cano (who is baseball's MVP so far--- go look at his stats--- SICK).
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During that rally, Torre had to look over wistfully and think, DAMN!

The difference in this game is simple.

I rolled out Broxton in the 9th, Joe Girardi rolled out Rivera.

With Mo, I'm a genius 4-time champ.

With Broxton, I'm Philly's bitch in the Playoffs.

Is Torre a better or worse manager in LA than he was in NY?

Nope, he just had better players in NY.
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I say all of that to get to my favorite moment, and it involves my favorite athlete.

The Yankees had rallied to tie the game at 6-6.

There was a runner on 2nd and two outs.

Torre had looked cool, calm, and collected as his team was falling apart.

That was until Derek Jeter walked towards the plate.

ESPN cut to a panicked Torre throwing up 4 fingers.

I said to my girlfriend (who has quickly learned that Yankees game are a central part of my existance): He's walking Jeter.

He's scared.

Joe Torre has dealt with a lot in baseball and in life.

He was fired prematurely (and reacted badly only after the fact).

He was a rock while his brother battled cancer.

He was abused as a child (and has done amazing work to prevent that since).

He's a former league MVP and 4-time WS champion as a manager.

But that guy wanted NO PART of Derek Jeter in the 9th.

Too many times he'd seen DJ get the needed base hit to settle games.

When Jeter was coming up, I could already visualize the base hit to right, the run scoring and Jeter giving his little fist pump.

So could Torre.

He had seen this movie before.

30 Years from now when someone starts talking trash about Jeter, and telling me how overrated he is, and how he's not truly a Yankees legend... I'll know.

The man who was afraid of nothing, FEARED Jeter in the 9th.

That four-fingered salute and look of panick tells me more than Elias Sports Bureau's stats ever will.

US Against The World

God Bless Landon Donovan (not pictured).

Never in my life did I think on ONE tv screen I'd have an England-Slovenia game where I was PRAYING for a Slovenia goal, and on the other, I'd watch the US go toe-to-toe with Algeria.

But that was the situation on Wednesday.

The US was in one of those "win or get help" situations, and help wasn't coming.

The 90th minute arrived and I was standing next to Joe Zigacki, the voice of the Miami Hurricanes.

Joe said to me, Dukie, that may be a LOONNNNG flight home.

Then its flashed on ESPN: 4 minutes of extra time.
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During the minute before Donovan's goal, I was working myself into a frenzy of rage.

Earlier in the game, Clint Dempsey scored a goal for the US, but it once again, was wiped off the board.

A BS off-sides call was the culprit this time.

Sure, the US blew chances, but how deflating must that have been for Bob Bradley's bunch?

I said to myself, F this sport.

Really.

For whatever reason, be it political, economic, jealousy, that we're new to the sport...

American goals don't count.

Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

For whatever reason, we couldn't get a break and it makes the rest of the world delighted that we can't.

I thought to myself, how can I emotionally invest in sport, where my team legitimately doesn't have a chance to win? To make it even more personal, that's my country.

F that.

If the US doesn't score here, I'm done with it...
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I didn't even get the word "it" into my brain, before a frenzy of joy and elation.

Landon Donovan did what elite players are supposed to do in crucial situations, he found a way to win.

As the Americans formed a dogpile on the side of the pitch, I felt myself well up with unbridled jingoism.

You know what rest of the world??? You don't want the US to do well at soccer? Tough **it.

We're coming to beat you at your own game.

American imperialism on the pitch and in your face.
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So there you have it soccer, you almost lost me and then won me over BIG TIME in the span of about 90 minutes.

Honestly, I don't really care about the typical soccer questions... Will soccer ever catch on in the US and blah blah blah...

What I do care about is *THIS* US team.

They overcame horrible officials, slow starts, uneven defense, the vuvuzelas, and the hatred of the world, and won their group for the first time since 1930.

Bring on Ghana Saturday.

I believe.

Always Moving

Many of my readers have not hear of Colin Curtis (not pictured).

And to be honest with you, until Monday night, neither had I.

But at around 12:15 a.m. Wednesday, I got to watch Colin Curtis live out his dream.

I must admit I was deeply moved.
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Curtis was the Yankees' 4th round pick in 2006 out of Arizona State.

And at around 12:15, Curtis drove a ball over the Arizona Diamondbacks' centerfielder to drive home a pair of runs for the Yankees.

But the story begins 10 years earlier.

At the age of 15, Curtis was diagnosed with testicular cancer.

Can you imagine?

According to his wiki page (so it must be true), Colin was given a book by Lance Armstrong that inspired him (hopefully it wasn't "how to dope").
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But back to the magical moment.

I have to admit, there are certain events that ALWAYS move me.

I'm a mess at weddings.

I will often be moved at movies.

And yes, when I see someone get their first big-league hit, it's always touching.
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After his double, they cut back to a shot of Curtis in the dugout.

The entire Yankees team was waiting for him.

AROD gave him a hug.

Teixeira told him 'good job.'

Girardi gave him a fist-bump.

And Colin looked up in the stands where his brother could be seen mouthing "**CK Yeah", while his dad stood and applauded, and his mom was high-fiving and then texting.

After the game, his father walked down the stands to take pictures of his son being interviewed.

Does it get any better than that?
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That's why I love sports.

Here we are.

It's the 8th inning of a Diamondbacks-Yankees game that has long since been decided.

The kid is pinch hitting.

And boom.

This incredible, life-changing, life-affirming moment.

Everything Colin Curtis went through in his life, beating cancer, those bus rides in the minor leagues... POOF.

All the struggle was gone in one swing of the bat.

He was now officially a New York Yankee.

It's always great to see someone's dream come true right before your eyes.

Or maybe I'm just trying to justify paying $180 a year for the Direct TV baseball package...

Swallow Your Whistle...

I don't know all the rules of soccer, but I do know that Koman Coulibaly (not pictured) called an AWFUL game on Friday.

The ref from Mali blew a CRITICAL call that cost the US a win in the World Cup.

Now, technically, because England's been so dreadful in the World Cup, the US can win its last match of the opening round and advance to the Round of 16. (the only highlight of England's performance so far has been David Beckham's suits, the man can dress).

That's fine.

But the match I watched on Friday was an absolute disgrace to sport, and this knucklehead should never be allowed on a pitch again.
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I kid you not, I really think the match was fixed.

There's one of two culprits.

Either, the ref had a POLITICAL reason to hate the US (not out of the realm of possibilities--- although my knowledge of US-Mali relations is limited) *OR* this guy was on the take.

THROUGHOUT the match, it was called ONE WAY, and some of the calls were absurd.

A key US player received a yellow card for what appears to be breathing.

Short of putting on one of the Slovenia jerseys (which looked like they were designed by Charlie Brown), the ref COULD NOT have been more biased.
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The number one objective of good officiating is to make yourself invisitble.

That goes IN PARTICULAR for the end of game situations.

In the 4th quarter, 9th inning, 85th minute...

That's not time for you to "step up" refs, it's time for you to stand down.

Sports should be decided by the combatants.

That's why we watch.

Nobody wants to see a contest decided by a whistle, especially an errant, ignorant one.
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I feel for the US players.

I really do.

They busted their asses to make a tremendous comeback down 2-nil and HAD the chance to walk away with a win.

That win was taken away.

Saturday FIFA is reviewing his performance.

Not much to review.

He sucked.

Now it's time to take away this guy's whistle.

In Defense Of The Vuvuzela...

There's controversy surrounding the World Cup because of a noisemaker called the Vuvuzela (not pictured).

If you've watched any of the games, it essentially sounds like there's a perpetual buzz.

In fact, while watching the United States' final friendly against Australia, my girlfriend was first convinced that there were bees in my apartment, and then kindly asked me to mute the TV.
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It's gotten so bad that on Sunday, the organizer of the World Cup said they are considering banning them from the games.

Now you would think, being a neophyte to the sport, I'd be all for this decision.

You'd be wrong.
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During the World Cup, we're guests of the country of South Africa.

This month is for that country to showcase its cultural and traditions.

For one month every four years, I take an intense interest in the beautiful game, and then it falls to the backburner (like many Americans who are casual soccer fans).

But while I'm in that world, who am I to start dictating how people enjoy themselves?

It's not my sport.

It's not my country.

My job is to observe, to learn, to appreciate.

Not to start calling the shots.

If that's the tradition, that's the tradition.

Would I like someone from abroad to come here and end "the wave" (of course I would, it's godawful, but that's not really part of my rhetorical argument)?
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Soccer and sports are about expressions of who you are and what you want to be.

If that's how the fans of South Africa and from around the world want to enjoy their game: cool.
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I was a Cameron Crazy in college.

We had strange chants, rituals, face-paintings.

We were a bunch of nerds who slept out in the cold for 6 weeks, to try to heckle North Carolina's basketball players.

It was strange and bizarre.

If I were an outsider in Cameron, I'd think, what an annoying freakshow (that was always the point).

As a Cameron crazy, I wouldn't want someone telling me how to or how not to cheer.
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So if that's what makes the fans in South Africa happy, I say, Vuvuzela away my friends.

It's better than letting Bieber sing. (callback!)

Cut And Run Carroll

I'll begin this blog with a simple question:

What the ***K has happened to college sports?

There were TWO major stories on Thursday and I believe they're related.

The first is that USC was sanctioned for what happened on the watch of Pete Carroll (not pictured--- look closely at the bottle to get this one).

The second is that schools are moving and shaking to different conferences.
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I'll begin with the West Coast's answer to Nick Saban, Pete Carroll.

There's no doubt he sold himself as "cool."

USC was the school that let Snoop Dogg and Will Ferrell hang out at practice.

Pete twittered.

He recruited the best players.

They hung out in the California sun (playing nobody) and built a dynasty.
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One problem: the program was dirty.

Yes, this all stems from Reggie Bush.

But it's like a guy who gets a DUI, was that REALLY the first time you've ever had too much to drink and gotten into the car?

Please.

Pete Carroll KNEW.

That's why the wimp cut and run.

He RAN to the NFL right before the hammer dropped down on his program.

I'll ask the Ronald Reagan question: Is your program better now than it was 4 years ago?

Nope.

Pete Carroll screwed USC and didn't even bother to use a Trojan.

He makes BP look accountable.
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That's fine though.

The guy who took over for Carroll is an equally unlikable character.

Lane Kiffin keeps failing up.

He sucked in Oakland.

He was average in Tennessee.

And now his dream job is a pile of poo.

I'm glad.

He's shady.

Enjoy those 6-6 seasons.
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As for realignment, I have NO freaking idea what's going on.

I mean, I get the big picture.

College sports is stacking these SUPERCONFERENCES.

Why?

The same reason anything else happens in this world: money.

Everyone is rushing for cash.

Forget traditional matchups, forget loyalty to conference.

It's musical chairs and if you're not well-alligned when the music stops, you are S-O-L.
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Which brings me back to USC's scandal.

There are some who say that college football should pay players.

If they do, perhaps Reggie Bush was ahead of the game.

But, what I find funny is the hypocracy.

On the one hand, you're saying TISK, TISK USC, you shouldn't allow players to have ANY money.

On the other, academic institutions are EACH running with their hands out to split the millions that sports generate.
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I'm glad USC's empire fell.

Unlike Miami's success in the 80's and 90's, Southern Cal's dynasty proved to be a Trojan horse.

89-Year Old Journalists Say The Darndest Things...

Many people are outraged about the remarks of Helen Thomas (not pictured).

There is no question that some of what she said was downright antisemitic.

You can't say, of Jews in Israel, "They should go home... To Poland, to Germany"... and not expect fallout.
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I'm not opposed to Helen Thomas questioning Israel's actions.

That's her job.

As a journalist, her responsibility is ask probing questions to help us all find truth.

She's supposed to take the most important decision-maker in the world (The President) to task about his thoughts, beliefs, actions, policies... and on and on.

When you have that esteemed front-row seat near the President, the bar is even higher.

So if she wanted to question the recent attack on the water, I would've been for her right to free speech.
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But, the woman is almost 90, and not such a fan of jews.

There's a very popular website called ***t my dad says.

It's a guy who posts funny, odd, off-the-wall statements by his father, who may or may not be senile.

I wish I could file this under that category.

I just can't.
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Helen Thomas was born in 1920.

She graduated from college in 1942.

That means, while the atrocities of the Holocaust were taking place, this was a college-educated woman.

As such, she probably had a PRETTY good idea that sending jews "back to Germany" is somewhat loaded verbiage.

As someone who made her living with words for 60-plus years, she knows better, or should.
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Helen Thomas isn't the first person to say something ignorant and hurtful, nor is she the last.

The sad aspect to this story, is that before her little David Duke moment, she was an esteemed trailblazer.

That's a tough gig to get.

So now, she'll make her journey from working for Hearst to her hearse.

Shalom.

Three Cheers For Yuri...

This is a blog entry about boxing.

But it's really about Jewish identity.

I wanted to give props to a wonderful performance put on Saturday night by Yuri Foreman (not pictured and I believe no relation).

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I was intrigued by the Foreman-Cotto fight because of the venue.

I would LOVE to see a boxing match at new Yankee Stadium, would've paid to have seen one at OLD Yankee Stadium.

So already, I thought it was cool.
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Then, just for the heck of it, I decided to look up Foreman for a bit.

I was really impressed to learn that he the Super Welterweight Champ, and was also studying to be a Rabbi.

I think back to my hebrew school days at Beth Shalom and Temple Sinai of Hollywood, don't remember seeing many fights and-or potential fighters.

The worst confrontation was when someone threw a fireball (the old candy) at another kid (and it stuck to his head)... now that was funny!

My high school was mostly Jewish, and it was my understanding that we didn't have a football team because of insurance purposes.
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Jewish culture hasn't traditionally emphasized sports.

We are taught to celebrate the fact that Sandy Koufax refused to pitch in the World Series because it was Yom Kippur, a lot more than we are taught to recognize that he's one of the most dominant left-handed pitchers in baseball history.

Back in the day, I'm talking Ellis Island Days, there were great Jewish fighters. It's like Chris Rock said, your status on the socioeconomic ladder has a direct correlation to how many successful boxers you produce.

The sweet science wasn't emphasized. Regular science, sure. Becoming a doctor or lawyer was more of a priority.
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So, on the rare occassions when a Jewish sports star shines bright, there's a little extra pride that kicks in.

That guy had a bar mitzvah.

That guy went to Hebrew School.

That guy's mother probably calls him 12 times a day.

It's a shared cultural heritage, in an arena that's not familiar.
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Here's how rare it is: I'm writing this glowing blog, and Foreman was actually knocked out in the 9th round.

As my Bubby might say, What he should win every fight?

Do The Right Thing Bud...

There seems to be a perfect game motif to this blog.

Bud Selig (not pictured) has an opportunity to right a wrong.

He has an opportunity to provide justice in an unjust world.

He has a chance to make things right.

Bud Selig neeeds to overturn that atrocious call at first, and give Armando Galarraga his perfect game.
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By all accounts, Bud Selig has been an awful custodian of the game of the baseball.

The steroid era happened on his watch.

Competitive balance ran amock.

He had an all-star game that was a tie.

And overall, he's kind of a doof.

But, I don't think EVERYTHING that he's done has been bad.

I like interleague play.
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But love him or hate him, here's a chance for Bud Selig to do the right thing.

A perfect game is retiring 27 out of 27 batters.

Galarraga did that.

Jim Joyce CLEARLY messed up the last call.

SO, Galarraga got the 28th batter.

Just admit the call was wrong, and let history books reflect that 21 perfect games have been thrown.

We all saw it.

Who among us would object?
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Jim Joyce isn't the first ump or ref to blow a call.

Backjudge Terry Porter cost the Miami Hurricanes a National Championship.

October 26, 1985, Don Denkinger blows a call at first, the Royals go on to beat the Cardinals in the World Series.

1996 Yankees fan Jeffrey Maier reaches over the right field wall and steals the ball from Tony Torasco, allowing Derek Jeter a pivotal home run (thank god he did).


Bad calls are a part of baseball.
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This just feels so different.

What's the point of being commissioner if you can't take action for the "good of the game."

Sometimes you need to throw out the rule books and use common sense.

ANYONE who watched it, saw the highlights, or is reading this knows, the kid pitched a perfect game.

Why not get it right for once, bud?

Do the moral thing.

Just this one time.

Make a decision that you can be proud of.

Besides, the Marlins have been planning on selling ticket stubs to the Detroit-Cleveland game.