January 18th, 2007 → 8:33 am @ Seth Mnookin
More readers send in their email correspondences with Murray Chass. This one is a gem.
“I would prefer not replying to your e-mail, but I need to tell you that you know nothing about journalism.It’s also questionable that you know anything about baseball, but I’ll leave that for you and your buddies to decide. If you want to talk about unhealthy obsessions, what about your obsessive need to comment on what I write? At least I get paid for what I write.
From a journalistic standpoint, it would have been remiss of me to write about the unusually long delay in Bonds signing his contract without noting that there was another such case. Had that other case involved Alfonso Soriano or Carlos Lee, you would not have given it a second’s thought. But when ‘Red Sox’ appeared on your radar, you could not let it go without responding. That, my friend, is obsessive.
Murray Chass”
From a journalistic standpoint, it would also be remiss not to, at the very, very, very least, correct a glaring, blatant mistake that Chass printed one month ago: that the tension between Theo and Dodgers GM Ned Colletti resulted in a stony silence throughout the winter meetings. (I’ve written before about what Chass’s original article said about the questionable ethics of the sports section.) Within days of Chass’s original article, the Globe wrote that, “Through a Dodgers spokesman, Colletti also refuted Chass’s allegation that there was a rift between Colletti and Epstein, and that he refused to take Epstein’s phone calls in Orlando. ‘They probably talked about 20 times last week,’ said spokesman Josh Rawitch. Indeed, when Colletti arrived at the meetings late last Sunday night from the Dominican Republic, one of his first orders of business was to conduct an hourlong face-to-face meeting with Epstein on a possible deal for Manny Ramírez.”
But apparently, as Murray’s said before, he’d stake his “nearly 40 years at the Times” against other news outlets…even if those other news outlets actually, you know, talk to sources and stuff: “Ask anybody in the business, and he will tell you my reporting is always correct, whether I’m quoting people by name or not. You don’t have to believe what I have reported, but that’s your problem, not mine.” And, apparently, Ned Colletti’s.
Also, from a baseball standpoint, the notion that Manny would be patrol perhaps the most spacious right field in baseball…well, it’s pretty moronic. Almost as moronic as suggesting Barry Bonds might end up wearing a Red Sox uniform, both of which Murray did yesterday.
Finally, if you’re interested in someone who knows something about both journalism (or at least writing) and baseball, check out Jose Melendez’s Keys to the Game. Astute readers will know that Jose has one of my coveted (and almost never updated) links on the left-hand rail of this page. Jose is also recogized in the acknowledgments of my first book. And, as Jose has said, I’m the only person ever to have bought a Keys to the Game thong. (Don’t ask.)
Post Categories: Jose Melendez & Murray Chass & New York Times
January 17th, 2007 → 9:51 am @ Seth Mnookin
Speaking of Murray, in the past week or so, I’ve been forwarded a whole slew of readers’ correspondences with Murray Chass. (Standard caveat: I have absolutely no way of knowing if these emails are legit, although this is a lot of trouble to go to if they’re not.) One thing they show us: Murray should think about spellchecking his email, especially when writing to the public.* Or pubic, as the case may be. They also demonstrate that Chass has a very healthy sense of his own skills.
Here’s some selected quotations from Chass’s response to a reader’s complaint about his ongoing obsession with the J.D. Drew (non) tampering charges:
“The Didgers (sic) pubicly (sic) and the Red Sox can refute the ‘allegation’ all they
want. The Dodgers privately believe there was tampering, and no one can
refute the existence of all of those converdsations (sic). If you were there and
monitored every conversation between and among club executives, let me know.
I would be impressed.”
There’s also this bit of condescension:
“As for Theo, I have no axe to grind with him. He’s a nice young man, and if
he were my son, I would be proud of him.”
Awww! I’m sure Theo’s thrilled.
Finally…
“Your reaction reminds me of the reaction to the initial reports of Woodward and Bernstein about Watergate.No one wanted to believe them, and they were criticized for their reports.”
Seriously. I didn’t make that up.
* I have absolutely no doubt that karma will ensure that I have at least one spelling error in this post.
Post Categories: J.D. Drew & Murray Chass & New York Times
January 17th, 2007 → 9:49 am @ Seth Mnookin
Now, it’s very possible that I simply don’t get Murray Chass’s sense of humor…but no matter how many times I read this, I couldn’t find any indication that there was anything in here that was supposed to be a joke. But you decide:
“Six weeks after they agreed to terms on new contracts, Barry Bonds and J. D. Drew remain unsigned. Bonds hasn’t signed with the Giants; Drew hasn’t signed with the Red Sox. That prompts a thought. If both contracts were to fall through, the Red Sox could sign Bonds to play left field and move Manny Ramírez back to his original position in right.”
If Chass is being serious, you need to give him credit for coming up with perhaps the all-time most idiotic idea ever. The Sox have been consistent in their desire to rid the team of distractions; they’re also trying to limit overpaying senior citizen superstars that aren’t named Roger Clemens. Putting Bonds — with his demands for special treatment and the media-circus that follows him — into the Sox’s clubhouse at Fenway is like forcing Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton to share a dressing room. And considering the media frenzy that occurs whenever Manny sneezes, can you imagine what it’d be like to have federal investigators and investigative reporters trying to see what they can dig up about Barry’s past? Good god.
(You do need to give Murray credit for finding new sources: Brian Sabean’s secretary. To wit: “Brian Sabean, the Giants’ general manager, did not return a telephone call yesterday seeking comment on the contract circumstances. His secretary, told what the call was about, said she did not think Sabean would comment.”)
Post Categories: Barry Bonds & Murray Chass & New York Times & Steroids
January 16th, 2007 → 9:33 am @ Seth Mnookin
Boston area sports fan have another five days to discuss the immaculate reception which is a good thing…because there ain’t a lot going on in the land of Cochineal Stockings…unless, that is, you consider the not along going on in the J.D. Drew negotiations as actually meaning there’s a lot going on.
One interesting tidbit: the Herald reported the other day that Boston is still interested in Roger, and apparently for reasons other than bringing its payroll in line with New York’s. It certainly would be interesting, and a great coda to Clemens’s career. But it also could be a mess. Buried in a Times story that ran last weekend about sportswriters’ culpability in the steroid scandal, Jim Souhan of the Minneapolis Star Tribune was quoted as saying, “I don’t think we (I) know enough about this generation of players to separate presumptive cheaters from the hundreds who cheated more subtly or intelligently, or who have otherwise avoided scrutiny. Like, oh, aging power pitchers who display tremendous resilience and longevity, not that I’m thinking of anyone in particular, Roger.”
The Times is one of the more prominent outlets that has now printed what reporters and baseball executives alike have been whispering, sotto voce, for years. I have no idea if it’s true. But if it is, and if Roger gets nailed, and if that nailing takes place while he’s wearing a Red Sox cap…well, let’s just say it won’t be pretty.
Post Categories: J.D. Drew & Roger Clemens & Steroids
January 15th, 2007 → 11:35 am @ Seth Mnookin
Eliot Spitzer — and for those of you not in the New York region who also have had your heads buring in the sand, he’s the Empire State’s new governor — made his first judicial appointment yesterday, nominating Theodore T. Jones to the Court of Appeals. The Times‘s headline on the story reads, “Spitzer Selects a Black Jurist for the Top Court.” Jones is also ID’d in the first sentence as a “black judge,” and the story notes that “Spitzer’s predecessor, George E. Pataki” left office with the Court of Appeals absent a black member for the first time in more than two decades.
It would seem safe to assume that when considering his options, Spitzer gave some thought to Jones’s race…right? Not according to the governor, who said — with a straight face — that “race, gender did not play a role in my selection process” and that he only considered “who would be the best jurist.” He also said he was glad the state’s government reflected “the diversity of our society,” which it most definitely does not, unless whites are counted differently from everyone else…but that’s a whole other story.
Twenty-nine** years after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr…and we still can’t talk openly and honestly about race.
(The most unintentionally humorous comment on Jones’s appointment came via the Times, who characterized embattled Republican State Senate Joseph Bruno’s comments about Jones as being “very affirmative.” Indeed.*)
*No, I am not saying Jones is not fully worthy. I know absolutely nothing about the state’s judges.
** Actually, 39. I ain’t so good at math.
Post Categories: New York Times & Race in america
January 11th, 2007 → 11:51 am @ Seth Mnookin
In today’s Daily News, T.J. Quinn (the same reporter behind the weirdly ignored revelation that, in 2001, a bag linked to Juan Gonzalez and a Cleveland Indians trainer was discovered filled with ‘roids), breaks the news that Barry “I have never failed a drug test” Bonds tested positive last year for a “serious stimulant”…the kind which was recently banned by MLB. (Except for folks suffering from ADD. Got that, D-Lowe?) So that’s what explains the difference between Bonds’ cap size in Pittsburgh and his one in San Francisco. Take note, pep pill fans: pop too many greenies and you’ll be spending lots o’ dough at your local milliner.
This promises to make Bonds’ pursuit of Hammering Hank’s all-time HR record even more fun! If Bonds is shown definitively to have lied — something which, to be sure, could also come out in the federal investigation regarding his grand jury testimony in the Balco case — it also could very well give HoF voters just the out they need to withhold a vote for Barry without needing to pass judgment on everyone who played in what will be known as the steroid era. (See: McGwire, Mark.)
Post Categories: Barry Bonds & Greenies & Hall of Fame & Mark McGwire & Steroids & T.J. Quinn
January 10th, 2007 → 12:09 pm @ Seth Mnookin
Finally, let’s take today’s Boston Baseball Writers Association dinner as an opportunity to post a previously unpublished (except for in the book, that is) excerpt about this same dinner, on this same date, back in 2002, when John Henry and Tom Werner were on the verge of taking control of the team. (Like what you read? There’s plenty more available in Feeding the Monster, this year’s amazing New York Times bestseller, available for only $17.16 (cheap!). And you can still get personalized and signed bookplates! Operators are standing by!)
On January 10, 2002, six days before baseball’s other owners officially approved the sale of the Red Sox to John Henry and Tom Werner, the Boston Baseball Writers Association of America held its annual fundraising dinner at the Back Bay Sheraton. The dinner, which every year is advertised as a chance for attendees to mingle for a few hours with a handful of Red Sox officials and players, began in the 1930s and originally functioned as a fundraiser for indigent writers and their families. Today, the Boston writers donate the money raised from the meal—in 2002, tickets were $100 each—to various charities. The evening is generally a ho-hum affair, more of an opportunity for a wintertime check-in than an occasion to get serious business done. Henry saw the dinner as a chance to begin forging the kind of relationships he’d had with many of the Marlins writers when he was in Florida.* That afternoon, from three until six PM, he met individually with many of the beat reporters and columnists who covered the team.
In addition to introducing himself, Henry wanted to know what the reporters thought of Dan Duquette. Since being awarded the team, Henry had found Duquette increasingly difficult to deal with. When he tried to talk to Duquette about the possibility of his staying on as the Red Sox’s general manager, Duquette said he thought he deserved to be named the team’s president. “My goal was to help the Red Sox win a World Series championship and I wanted to stay and fulfill that goal,” Duquette says. “I made it clear I wanted to stay.” Henry thought Duquette’s approach was bizarre. For one thing, Larry Lucchino had already been named the Red Sox’s president and CEO.
“I tried to convince him that just being general manager, if we ended up going with him, would be a big enough job,” says Henry. Duquette was not assuaged. He began to complain about how little he had been paid while working under Harrington, about how he was unappreciated, about how no one seemed to realize how valuable he was to the club.
Henry was well aware that the Red Sox front office was notorious for being needlessly combative. The previous year’s disarray—Duquette’s war with former Sox manager Jimy Williams; Carl Everett’s meltdown; the Sox’s precipitous September swoon—had been well documented. “Before we took over,” Henry says, “it seemed as if [the team] was out of control.” But prior to making any decisions, Henry felt he needed to determine the extent to which the Red Sox’s breakdown was due to circumstances that had nothing to do with Duquette. The team, after all, had been in a much-scrutinized state of flux for almost a year and a half.
The city’s assembled newshounds answered that question for him. Many of the reporters told Henry that they’d never had a single significant—or friendly—conversation with Dan Duquette during the eight years he had run the team. The interactions they did have were marked by an arrogance and elitism they found insulting and obnoxious. With little prompting, they began telling Henry what covering the Red Sox had been like under the previous regime. One writer described how, in the late 1990s, he’d called the Red Sox training facility in Fort Myers to inquire about injured utility infielder Lou Merloni’s physical rehabilitation program. The trainer who answered the phone not only wouldn’t discuss Merloni’s progress, he refused even to confirm that Merloni was in Florida. When asked why he couldn’t comment, the trainer whispered, “If I talk to you, I’ll get fired,” before quickly hanging up. Reporter after reporter described an environment in which the writers, the players, and the team’s management all seemed to be at war with each other. One famously feisty scribe said simply, “Get out your broom and sweep out the Duke.”
Henry’s one-on-one meetings with Red Sox writers gave Henry a fresh perspective on the team. Just as importantly, they helped to thaw the decades-long resentment that existed between the media and the Sox’s front office. In the past, taking shots at ownership had been easy (and fun) to do: when a reporter is treated poorly, he doesn’t worry much about being too hard on a subject. Henry, even after emerging from his bruising battle to buy the team, demonstrated immediately his commitment to changing the way business was done in Boston.
“The media was telling me if they tried to interview a minor league pitching coach they were told, ‘I can’t talk to you because I’ll get in trouble,’” Henry says. “I was shocked.” To each reporter, Henry promised that things would soon be different. “We were committed to being open and having open lines of communication,” says Henry. “That was the opposite of Duquette. And I knew that we had to show we were different as quickly and as aggressively as possible.”
Post Categories: Feeding the Monster Excerpts
