The Whale of Ignorance
If you are an ESPN Insider, you can read about the greatest baseball player in the history of Swarthmore College in Rob Neyer's column
about the best control pitchers of all time.If not, here's an excerpt:
"Most of you don't remember Dick Hall, but he's worth remembering. Hall graduated from Swarthmore College in 1951, and signed with Pittsburgh...
...except Hall couldn't hit. Rickey was a brilliant judge of talent, but he missed his fair share of them, and Hall just wasn't a major league player … until 1955, when the Pirates turned him into a pitcher. Hall wasn't left-handed, but he was six-feet-six and athletic – and in those days the Pirates were desperate. It took a few years, but in the 1960s Hall finally established himself as an outstanding reliever, and the game's No. 1 control artist.
Brooks Robinson would later recall that Hall "wasn't a flaky reliever – in fact, he worked as a CPA in Baltimore. He was a student of the game. When he got to the mound he'd wet his finger and stick it in the air and adjust his little slider to the way the wind was blowing. He had perfect control and just pitched away, away, away all the time."
Here's the most amazing thing about Dick Hall: in 16 major league seasons (as a pitcher) and 1,260 innings, he was charged with exactly one wild pitch. Hall later blamed that single errant offering on fooling around with a knuckleball, at the behest of Branch Rickey. But while it's true that Rickey did make his Pittsburgh pitchers throw the knuckler, Hall's wild pitch came near the end of his final season (1971) … long after he'd left the Pirates, and nearly six years after Rickey's death."
I don't know how many of you caught this,
but the writers at MNF have revealed that John Madden, not T.O., was the original choice to be opposite Nicolette Sheridan in the infamous Monday Night Football sketch -- which makes a lot more sense from a comedy standpoint. That probably would have been quite amusing, actually.
A surprisingly moving
article on George Gershwin's life, from the New Yorker-- I put on
Marcus Roberts' version of "Rhapsody in Blue" after reading the intro, which might have contributed to the piece's poignancy.
The temporarily addictive
ESP game
I use to think that artificial grape flavor (say, of Grape Bubble-Yum) tasted nothing like grapes, till I discovered Concord Grapes. Which leads me to wonder: are there secret varieties of watermelon that taste like artificial watermelon? And what about cherries and apples?
I should say that Gala Manor (in Flushing, Main Street and 37th? Avenue) was better on the second visit about a week later. One excellent dish was what I can only describe as a taro and diced water chestnut croquette -- the first time I'd seen this dish, and if it's really quite nice. They have a photo of it above their kitchen (which is visable from the dining room).
Googling "steel cut oats" and "rice cooker" reveals that many have had the epiphany before me.
It occured to me, tonight, in a rare moment of insight: YOU CAN USE YOUR RICE COOKER TO COOK STEEL-CUT OATS (just don't put on the cover and follow the directions printed for water-to-oat ratio). Old-fashioned, steel cut oats, which must be gaining in popularity after a recent glowing account of them in the
New York Times. They're tastier (nuttier) than instant oats, since they haven't been smushed (rolled) and blanched (made instant), with much much much better texture, and they're better for you. But they're sort of a pain to make in comparison to instant oats (30 minutes simmering on a stove top...), unless you use your rice cooker. You heard it here first. (The picture isn't very appetizing, but trust me, they're great). As noted in the times, you can cook a large batch and reheat portions in the microwave throughout the week for convenience
This is the new ipod shuffle. It has no screen and no way to select particular songs. I guess they're thinking that people will use this while working out, and people don't do typically scroll around for particular songs while working out. But other small flash players have this function, which seems like a nice thing to have even if you don't use it often. So I'll be mildly upset if this thing catches on.
From
Slate's review on ESPN's new poker show
Tilt: "When the action doesn't pause for a poker hand, Tilt is just an episode of Las Vegas (or maybe Dr. Vegas, rest its soul). It's all cheesy dialogue and lame scenarios. My favorite moment: In a back-room game, one guy says (with a carefully scripted blend of anger and accurate poker terminology), "No string bets here, bitch." When his opponent pulls out a small pistol, the guy draws a much bigger gun and shouts, "This time I raise!" (If only the second guy had then rolled in a massive cannon. "Reraise, bitch!")"
Interesting exchange between Malcom Gladwell and the author of "The Wisdom of Crowds" on Slate.
I had my first section of the quarter today. This picture is not from today.
The aforementioned Gray's Papaya.
From NYC, seen on the 6 train.
This is my main dessert from Chikalicious: a pecan cake with blood orange slices and I forget what ice cream (it tasted like cream). The desserts I saw seemed to share the feature of maintaining the distinctness of the individual components (which I guess is a Japanese trademark of sorts). Overall, a very restrained approach to dessert, which is probably not a bad thing.
On my way to the Chinatown van to Flushing.
From earlier in the evening, while I was waiting to go to Pylos, which we did not have a reservation for.
I was trying to be sneaky, but I guess Donna of Chikalicious (the eponymous Chika is to the left) saw the camera. Chikalicious is a dessert shop on the Lower East Side, the main attraction being a dessert service of an amuse, main dessert, petit fours and a wine pairing for $19. We sat at the counter, which, as you can see, is in front of the exposed kitchen. I wasn't crazy about the desserts, though it's quite clearly supposed to be as much about the atmosphere and experience, which was altogether pleasant. The place is tiny, with the feel of a private kitchen...
Metaphilosophical Theses:
1. Any philosophy book could be made half as long without losing anything of importance.