Sunday Morning Coffee — September 15, 2024 — Sunday Morning Vignette

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Good morning. Today some Sunday vignettes are on the menu as we anxiously await the Jets-Titans kickoff to see if New York’s defense is really worse than Donald Trump’s was on Tuesday night.

And speaking of Mr. Trump, kudos to Sunday Morning Coffee political pundit Ed Rogers who last weekend in SMC handicapped the presidential debate this way: “In Harris’ case I would say keep it short, don’t wander and have a few pre-packaged fresh quips about Trump that can provoke him. Then let the media do the work for her afterwards. As for Trump it’s the same old thing—don’t be crazy, don’t attack. He is not a good debater. I don’t think he has the skill set, short of calling someone names, to use her negatives effectively to put enough doubt in people’s minds.” Spot on.

Unlike politics, James Earl Jones was a personality about whom nobody ever had a disparaging word. We lost Mr. Jones this past week at the age of 93. Jones touched me personality during the summer of 1988. I was living in Dubuque, Iowa. In that town of 75,000 there was me, 20 other Jews, 19 African Americans and the most bar and taverns per capita in the country. I was there as a brash 30-something chosen by city leaders to manage the not-for-profit greyhound racing track, which opened in 1985. The success of which was sorely needed to help the struggling community overcome some severe financial issues, i.e. Unemployment at 22% in the early 80s. Assisted by an incredible team of professionals, we were successful beyond any expectations patronized by throngs of tourists from Milwaukee, Chicago and other points in the Midwest who converged on the city to spend and wager their dollars. In that summer of 1988 Dubuque was home to personalities such as Kevin Costner, Ray Liotta, Amy Madigan, Timothy Busfield and Mr. Jones. Dubuque was 26 miles east of Dyersville, Iowa, where Field of Dreams was being filmed. Dubuque served as the site of exterior shots and housing for the cast and crew. At night, with very limited options, many came out to the greyhound park to watch the races and dine. Jones in particular was smitten. He would call regularly to make sure I reserved his favorite table in our restaurant. He was the class gentleman that he was portrayed to be. In fact, he invited Andi and me out to the Field of Dreams set for filming. We were there the day Gaby Hoffman, playing seven-year-old Karin Kinsella, fell from the bleachers. The following April we were also invited to the world premiere of the movie, now a film classic, much the same as James Earl Jones’ career.

The day before Mr. Jones passed, we got word that Ed Kranepool died on September 8. Though Mr. Kranepool never recorded the words “This is CNN”, he was legendary to all baseball boomers who grew up in the New York metro area. Kranepool was the epitome New Yorker. Born in the Bronx, he was a baseball and basketball stalwart at James Madison High School. When he graduated in 1962 he was signed by the New York Mets. In September of that year, at the very tender age of 17, he made his Mets debut at first base. At that time the Mets were a baseball farce becoming the worst team in MLB history prior to this year’s Chicago White Sox. Kranepool, by six years, was the youngest on a team of over-the-hill veterans. More important than that, he was someone to whom we 10, 11 and 12-year-olds could easily identify with. Back then anyone in their 20’s was unrelatable, too much of an age gap. They were old men. But if Ed Kranepool only six or seven years older than us could play in the big leagues why couldn’t we? Well, a lack of talent was probably the main reason, but we all rooted for the kid to make it. As it turned out he played 17 years for the Mets and only the Mets, never wearing another major league uniform. The left-hander, a lifetime .261 hitter, was on the 1969 Miracle Mets and an all-star in 1965. Kidney problems slowed him in the later years, but he was a great statesman for the Mets and baseball and always thought of fondly.

And one more sad note — Gary Selesner died on September 9 at the age of 71. While not a household name he was very prominent as a leader in the Las Vegas hospitality, gaming and hotel industry.  From 2001 to 2022, Gary was president of Caesars Palace and responsible for so much innovation on the Las Vegas Strip. Selesner and I first met in the early 1980s when he was editing a horse racing magazine, and I was managing greyhound tracks in Hollywood, Florida, and then Tucson, Arizona. We spoke on multiple symposium and trade show panels together. In mid-1984 Gary was hired as the public relations director of Harvey’s Hotel & Casino in Lake Tahoe, NV, beginning a 40-year career in gaming. At the time I was the general manager of Tucson Greyhound Park. We were a couple of kids— he was 30, I was 32. He offered me the position as assistant PR director at Harvey’s. Instead, I accepted the job of general manager of the greyhound track in Dubuque.  For me, certainly no misgivings the way things turned out but every now and again don’t you find yourself asking the question, “What if?” Gary is gone too soon but part of him and his innovations will live forever on the Strip

Okay, enough from the obit page. Instead, let’s turn to a birthday celebration and wish former Pittsburgh Pirates great Bill Mazeroski a happy 88th birthday on September 5. In 1960 I was eight when Maz became my first sports hero. His bottom of the ninth home run beat the New York Yankees in Game Seven of the World Series. I was a Pirates fan because my dad was and that’s the way I thought it had to be. I raced home from second grade at Meadowbrook Elementary School just in time to see it. I then ran around the block like Maz did running around the bases. Maz was a seven-time all-star, inducted into the baseball Hall of Fame in 2001. He could turn a double play at second base better than anyone then or now. Fifty years after his Series winning hit, in 2010, I got to meet Maz and spend a week with him at Pittsburgh Pirates Fantasy Camp. I was just as much in awe as a 57-year-old as I was as that eight-year-old on Long Island. We spent another two or three years together once a year at baseball camp. In 2012 he was kind enough to write the foreword of my first book, The Most Wonderful Week Of The Year. It was beyond any dream to have my name associated with his, never mind on a book cover. Happy birthday to a legend.

Modern medicine is wonderful. I hope. As some of you know back in November 2020 I made the incredible judgmental error of approaching our then four-year-old, 90 pound Chow-mix from behind and spooked him. Deuce’s immediate reaction was to sharply turn his head with his teeth catching my left lower eyelid and just about severing it. I had immediate surgery to reattach, followed by two additional ones within six months of the incident. Then another surgery to try and repair nerve damage. Bottom line over the next four years is that the eye is virtually stuck — there is so much scar tissue built up that it won’t rotate fully downward. So my eyes were essentially nine degrees misaligned on the downward gaze. Because there isn’t a unified signal being sent to the brain, I am almost always dizzy with very little peripheral or downward vision which also makes me clumsy. Walking down a staircase and trying to identify the last step has become a crap shoot. About three years ago it was recommended  by a surgical ophthalmologist I might want to consider adjusting the good eye to be in tandem with the injured one. At the time I had little interest in the concept hoping something could still be done with the injured eye. Since then I’ve been to see specialists throughout Vegas and even to UCLA with little relief. A couple of weeks ago that same idea, strabismus surgery, was reintroduced to me and I swung at it. So on Thursday I had the procedure where the healthy eye muscle in the right eye is retracted to align with the injured left eye. I’m hopeful ultimately it will register a consistent signal to the brain and not only improve vision but alleviate the other symptoms. It will take about six weeks for the eyes to align if that’s in the cards. We’ll see. Literally.

Finally, a television recommendation for anyone who was a fan of The Sopranos. Wise Guy: David Chase and The Sopranos is not just good, it’s great. The two-parter on HBO/MAX runs just over two and a half hours and you’ll get some never before heard insight from Chase, the show’s creator and showrunner: interviews with the cast and writers and some classic clips with behind the scenes dirt. And for anyone who was left in the dark by the controversial series ending, this just might clear things up. Maybe. Watch it. You won’t be sorry.