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Marilyn Armstrong — Seeking Intelligent Life on Earth

Category Archives: Baseball


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Garry’s Baseball Movie Picks

Summer will come. It’s already officially well into springtime. To me, this means baseball. Red Sox doing pretty well, so far. What could be better?

You guessed it. Baseball and movies, and especially movies about baseball that combine my two favorite pastimes. Put them together and I’m in heaven! I know it’s all subjective so here is my list of favorite baseball movies plus a few anecdotes.

FIELD OF DREAMS  — Perhaps the perfect film for a life-long baseball fan with memories of baseball “when the grass was green” and they had just 8 teams in each major league. For many years, I had the lineups of ALL the teams committed to memory. James Earl Jones’ monologue about baseball says it all for me and why it remains so dear to my heart.

File:The Natural (1984 film) poster.jpg

THE NATURAL – Robert Redford‘s Roy Hobbs is a sanitized version of the dark Bernard Malamud novel. But Redford who played college ball looks very natural (a welcome change from the awkward Hollywood baseball movies of the past) as the lefty hitter and southpaw pitcher. Hobbs is the reel version of real life baseball player, Eddie Waitkus who I remember from long ago. Redford has said he modelled his stance and swing after Boston Red Sox legend, Ted Williams. “Teddy Ballgame” who didn’t have an affinity for the media, took a liking to me and shared his feeling about movies in general. #9 liked John Wayne movies. So did I. We swapped anecdotes about time spent with “The Duke”. Asked about Redford’s Roy Hobbs, Williams said, “He’ll do”. I still get goose bumps every time Hobbs literally knocks out the stadium lights with his game winning hits.

Cover of "Bull Durham"

BULL DURHAM – Could easily be my number one baseball movie. It’s real, funny and well done. I spent time with our local Triple A team and can tell you “Bull Durham” is right on the mark, smack down to the clichés, the clichés notebook, the bus trips, the small town ball parks and the parallel lives of players ascending and descending as they focus on reaching “the show”. Kevin “Crash Davis” Costner was never better as the career minor league catcher who nurtures brash “wild thing” pitching prospect, Tim Robbins. And, yes, there are real life Susan Sarandons who also “nurture” players. You could look it up!!

PRIDE OF THE YANKEES – Yes, even if you’re not a Yankee fan, there is no way you cannot admire Lou Gehrig — the player and the man. And, there’s no way you cannot appreciate Gary Cooper’s performance as he breathes life into the baseball legend. Coop was a natural right-hander and they needed some photographic “magic” to transform him into the lefty hitting Gehrig. But Cooper captured Gehrig’s professional and private mannerisms. Ted Williams, who remembered Gehrig, said Gary Cooper got it “just right”. The closing scene of Coop/Gehrig walking into the dugout and into the darkening tunnel — is a classic.

MAJOR LEAGUE – Funny and endearing. Reminds me of Casey Stengel and his original lovable, bumbling “Amazin Mets”. The outcasts who become heroes never gets old. I still remember interviews with “The Ol’ Perfesser” extolling the ‘virtues’ of his hapless players like “Marvelous” Marv Throneberry and “Choo Choo” Coleman who would become the character types for the “Major League” comic baseball heroes. Art imitates life.

THE BAD NEWS BEARS – The original with Walter Matthau and Tatum O’Neal. This is another one that never gets old. It’s the Little League version of “Major League”. It resonates with me because of my hapless days as a kid playing on the street and in pickup games on local fields. I couldn’t hit and couldn’t field. But my imitation of my hero “Duke” Snider at the plate was pretty good.

61*  – Billy Crystal’s HBO movie and homage to his beloved N.Y. Yankees and their memorable 1961 season with the Mantle-Maris chase of Babe Ruth’s home run record. Again, I had the good fortune to interview Mantle and Maris — just a year later when the draining physical and mental effects of that legendary year were still very obvious.

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THE BOYS OF SUMMER – TV documentary of the beloved Brooklyn Dodgers of the 40′s and 50′s. It peaks with the “Bums” finally winning the World Series in 1955 after many, many years of losing to their nemesis, The Yankees. These were the heroes of my youth. The “Duke”, Campy, Pee Wee, Jackie Robinson, Gil Hodges and all the rest. I lived and died with victories and defeats. When the Dodgers left Brooklyn for Los Angeles, a piece of me died. *One of the two biggest personal moments in my professional life was meeting my baseball hero, “Duke” Snider. He was in the twilight of his career but still had that sweet swing and classic jog. “The Boys of Summer” keeps my childhood memories alive.

BASEBALL  – Ken Burns multi-segment documentary on baseball. A historical TREASURE looking at the game from its birth, the parallel social environment as the game changed and evolved across decades and a century. It also arrived on the scene amid a baseball strike. Perfect timing for distraught fans!!

(*John Wayne was the other professional/personal highlight that tops a well-remembered list.)

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For Garry on the occasion of his birthday … Casey at the Bat

Unlike Casey, you’ll always be hitting home runs with me! I’m your biggest fan and always will be.

Casey at the Bat

by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, “If only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.”

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile lit Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
“That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one!” the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted someone on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, “Strike two!”

“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered “Fraud!”
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.


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Boston from the Baptist – The Citgo Sign and Fenway Park

I had to be at the Baptist Hospital today to see my spine guy, harboring a hope that something can be done to make it hurt a bit less. I have been to the Baptist before and I remembered that it was at the top of the hill on Parkman Hill Avenue in the area known to everyone as “hospital city.”

I’m not going to bother to explain what that means because I’m pretty sure you can figure it out. What I did not remember, or perhaps had never noticed, is that the view from the hospital is great, particularly if you’re a baseball fan and the words “CITGO sign” resonate for you.

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There’s a saying in Boston: “London has Big Ben, Paris has the Eiffel Tower. Boston has the CITGO sign.”

cigoOverFenway

If you are neither a baseball fan and nor from New England, you are probably saying “Huh?” A gigantic neon sign for CITGO does not have the iconic sound that you get from Ayers Rock, Big Ben, or the Taj Mahal, but for Bostonians, it’s so entwined with Fenway Park, the Red Sox, and Boston’s identity that the idea of losing it is unacceptable.

Citgo sign and Yawkey way

Should CITGO cease to exist,  I’m sure Boston would make sure the sign remained, flashing over Fenway Park. It’s as obvious an identifier of Boston as the Empire State Building is of New York or the Gold Gate Bridge is of San Francisco.

From Citgo.com:

 

A Sign Of The Times

The iconic CITGO sign has been a part of the Boston skyline since 1940. Located at 660 Beacon Street, on what was once a Cities Service divisional office, the sign originally featured the Cities Service logo, but was replaced with the famous CITGO “trimark” of today when the CITGO brand was created for the marketing division of Cities Service in 1965.

Efforts to remove the sign in the early 1980s faced fierce opposition and led CITGO to restore the sign, with groups even fighting to declare the sign a landmark.

The CITGO Sign is held in particular high regard by Boston sports fans. Red Sox sluggers are enticed by the so-called “C-IT-GO” sign as they blast home runs over the left-field wall, and runners in the grueling Boston Marathon welcome its sight as the 20th mile mark. Its pulsing flash in the night sky has even been used by mothers-to-be at nearby Beth Israel to time their contractions.

It’s no secret that the CITGO Sign in Boston’s Kenmore Square is beloved by people across the country and around the world. Not only has it become a major image of the city of Boston, featured in postcards and tourist brochures, but the sign was deemed an “Objet d’Heart” by Time Magazine, was photographed by Life Magazine and featured in the New York Times. It has even become a source of inspiration for artists, musicians and filmmakers from around the world.

Want to know more about the famous CITGO sign? Check out the interesting CITGO Sign Facts, and learn more about the man who is known by thousands of locals as the Keeper of the Sign.

Kenmore Square, Bosston - December 19, 2012

Kenmore Square, Boston – December 19, 2012

A Boston Icon Gets a Facelift

In late July 2010, the 45-year-old, 3,600-square-foot sign had all its LED lights replaced with more technologically advanced and environmentally friendly versions. The upgrades required that the sign go dark while the work was done.

Boston residents watched excitedly as the sign was relit on Sept. 17 during the 7th inning stretch of a Red Sox home game— just in time for baseball playoff season. Today, the famous beacon looks better than ever!

When I first came to Boston in 1987, I was puzzled. I couldn’t understand why everyone loved this huge, garish neon sign. Half the time only pieces of it lit up, so what was all the fuss about? It didn’t take me long to get it: this sign was part of the whole Fenway Park-Red Sox mystique, a signature of the park, the team and the city. Moreover, the CITGO sign is visible from far and wide. It is the first landmark I recognized and used to find my way around the peculiar streets of the city. You can use it to find Fenway … and it’s important to be able to find Fenway Park. You might be forgiven for not being able to find Faneuil Hall, but you have to know the way to Fenway. Even if you don’t care about baseball. It’s a Boston thing.

So there I was, on the third floor of the Hospital, which is the lobby floor since the building is built into the hill and suddenly, I looked out and I saw Boston. Better, I saw the CITGO sign … and below it, the green walls of Fenway Park. They tried to build a new ball park some years ago but it turned out the fans didn’t want a new ball park. They wanted Fenway Park. In this house, we simply couldn’t imagine giving up Fenway.

After a great deal of hoopla and political maneuvering,  they renovated the old park. CITGO fixed their sign. All is right with the world: Fenway is safe, at least for a while.

Boston.

Boston.

This year, 2012, was the 100th anniversary of Fenway Park. If the team hadn’t had their worst season in decades, it probably would have been a more gala occasion. Nonetheless, the Red Sox have put together a great website with pictures going back to the turn of the century. Lots of history and more. Check it out!

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1969 – It was a very good year.

1969. It was the year I grew wings. The world spun faster and everything changed.

Neil Armstrong walked on the moon in July 1969. I watched it unfold. I was a new mommy with a 2 months old baby boy. Home with the baby and not working or in school, I had time to see it happen.

I saw Neil Armstrong walk on the moon. Imagine, a real live man on the moon!

We viewed it on CBS. It was obvious Walter Cronkite wanted to be up there too. Up there, with Neil and the rest of Apollo 11. He could barely control his excitement, almost in tears, his voice breaking with emotion.

The great Arthur C. Clarke was his guest for that historic broadcast. Neil Armstrong died this past week and unlike so many others, he remained an honorable man: a real American hero.

How I envied him his trip to the moon. I always tell my husband that no man will ever take me away from him, but if the Mother Ship comes and offers me a trip to the stars, sorry bub, I’m outta here. I’m getting a bit long in the tooth, but if they could do it on Cocoon, maybe there’s time for me, too. Maybe Garry can come with me.

The view from the Apollo 11 Command and Service Module shows the Earth rising above the Moon’s horizon on July 20th, 1969. The lunar terrain is in the area of Smyth’s Sea on the near side. (NASA)

Woodstock was just a month away and there were rumors flying about this amazing rock concert that was going to happen upstate. I had friends who had tickets and were going. I was busy with the baby and wished them well.

There were hippies giving out flowers in the Haight-Ashbury area of San Francisco. But I didn’t envy them because I was happy that year, probably happier than I’d ever been and in some ways, happier than at anytime since.

I was young, still healthy. I believed we would change the world, end war, make the world a better place. I still thought the world could be changed. All we had to do was love one another and join together to make it happen. Vietnam was in high gear, but we believed it was going to end any day … and though we soon found out how terribly wrong we were, for a little bit of time, we saw the future brightly and full of hope.

I had a baby boy and I sang “Come a little closer to my breast” by the Holy Modal Rounders (The Incredible String Band made it famous, but the Rounders sang it first). I had met them at a local folk music club and though they’d been the stonedest group of people I’d ever met, but that song was a great lullaby and it made my son laugh.

Everything’s Fine Right Now
-
Who’s that knocking on my door?
Can’t see no-one right now.
Got my baby here by me,
can’t stop, no, no, not now.
Oh, come a little closer to my breast,
I’ll tell you that you’re the one I really love the best,
and you don’t have to worry about any of the rest,
’cause everything’s fine right now.
 
And you don’t have to talk and you don’t have to sing,
You don’t have to do nothing at all;
Just lie around and do as you please,
you don’t have far to fall.
 
Oh, come a little closer to my breast,
I’ll tell you that you’re the one I really love the best,
and you don’t have to worry about any of the rest,
’cause everything’s fine right now.
 
Oh, my, my, it looks kind of dark.
Looks like the night’s rolled on.
Best thing you do is just lie here by me,
of course only just until the dawn.
-
Oh, come a little closer to my breast,
I’ll tell you that you’re the one I really love the best,
and you don’t have to worry about any of the rest,
’cause everything’s fine right now.

It was the year of the miracle Mets and I watched as they took New York all the way to the top. A World Series win. 1969. What a year.

New York went crazy for the Mets. It should have been the Dodgers, but they’d abandoned us for the west coast. I wore patchwork bell-bottom jeans and rose-tinted spectacles. I had long fringes on my sleeves and a baby on my hip.

The music was fine. It would all change very soon, but for that one year, just that year, everything felt aligned and right. Many years have come and gone. I’ve done a lot of stuff, lived in another country, lived other lives  … but 1969 was the best.

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My Favorite Year – 1969

It was 1969, the year I grew my own wings. The world spun faster on its axis. Everything changed.

Neil Armstrong walked on the moon in July 1969. I watched it unfold. I was a new mommy with a 2 months old baby boy. Home with the baby and not working or in school, I had time to see it happen.

English: Neil Armstrong descending the ladder ...

Neil Armstrong descending the ladder on the lunar module.

I saw Neil Armstrong walk on the moon. Imagine, a real live man on the moon!

We viewed it on CBS. It was obvious Walter Cronkite wanted to be up there too. Up there, with Neil and the rest of Apollo 11. He could barely control his excitement, almost in tears, his voice breaking with emotion.

The great Arthur C. Clarke was his guest for that historic broadcast. Neil Armstrong died a few weeks ago … He had a good life. Unlike so many others who fell from grace, he remained an honorable man: a real American hero.

How I envied him his trip to the moon. I always tell my husband that no man will ever take me away from him, but if the Mother Ship comes and offers me a trip to the stars, sorry bub, I’m outta here. I’m getting a bit long in the tooth, but if they could do it on Cocoon, maybe there’s time for me, too. Maybe Garry can come with me.

The view from the Apollo 11 Command and Service Module (CSM) “Columbia” shows the Earth rising above the Moon’s horizon on July 20th, 1969. The lunar terrain pictured is in the area of Smyth’s Sea on the near side. (NASA)

Woodstock was just a month away and there were rumors flying about this amazing rock concert that was going to happen upstate. I had friends who had tickets and were going. I was busy with the baby and wished them well.

There were hippies giving out flowers in the Haight-Ashbury area of San Francisco. But I didn’t envy them because I was happy that year, probably happier than I’d ever been and in some ways, happier than at anytime since.

I was young, still healthy. I believed we would change the world, end war, make the world a better place. I still thought the world could be changed. All we had to do was love one another and join together to make it happen. Vietnam was in high gear, but we believed it was going to end any day … and though we soon found out how terribly wrong we were, for a little bit of time, we saw the future brightly and full of hope.

I had a baby boy and I sang “Come a little closer to my breast” by the Holy Modal Rounders (The Incredible String Band made it famous, but the Rounders sang it first). I had met them at a local folk music club and though they’d been the stonedest group of people I’d ever met, but that song was a great lullaby and it made my son laugh.

___

Everything’s Fine Right Now

Who’s that knocking on my door?

Can’t see no-one right now.

Got my baby here by me,

can’t stop, no, no, not now.

-

Oh, come a little closer to my breast,

I’ll tell you that you’re the one I really love the best,

and you don’t have to worry about any of the rest,

’cause everything’s fine right now.

-

And you don’t have to talk and you don’t have to sing,

You don’t have to do nothing at all;

Just lie around and do as you please,

you don’t have far to fall.

-

Oh, come a little closer to my breast,

I’ll tell you that you’re the one I really love the best,

and you don’t have to worry about any of the rest,

’cause everything’s fine right now.

-

Oh, my, my, it looks kind of dark.

Looks like the night’s rolled on.

Best thing you do is just lie here by me,

of course only just until the dawn.

-

Oh, come a little closer to my breast,

I’ll tell you that you’re the one I really love the best,

and you don’t have to worry about any of the rest,

’cause everything’s fine right now.

___

It was the year of the Miracle Mets. I watched as they took New York all the way to the top. A World Series win. 1969. What a year. I rocked my son to sleep and discovered Oktoberfest beer. New York went crazy for the Mets. It should have been the Dodgers, but they’d abandoned us for the west coast.

I wore patchwork bell-bottom jeans and rose-tinted spectacles. I had long fringes on my sleeves and a baby on my hip.

The music was wonderful. How young we were, and how sure that we could do anything, everything. We were going to end war … end THE war … right every wrong. Just as we found the peak, we would drop back into a valley that was a darker place. But for that year, that happy year, the stars aligned for us.

Decades passed; youth was long ago. The drugs we take control our blood pressure, not our state of consciousness. They aren’t any fun at all. I worry about Social Security and Medicare and I know I’m not going to fix what’s wrong with the world. I’ve lived a lifetime. My granddaughter is barely younger than I was then.

I’ve remarried, lived in another country, owned houses, moved from the city to the country, and partied with a President … but 1969 remains my year.

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