Volume CCXXXIV, Number 50 October 14, 2004 Early Edition
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Folks, this is the year. Ever since 1919, when New York Broadway producer Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees to raise money for his fancy stage shows, the Red Sox have labored under the Curse of the Bambino. But John Henry and Larry Lucchino have undone the money-grubbing legacy of that alien sophisticate. The new Sox team has spent freely on all aspects of the Red Sox, from on-field talent like Curt Schilling to a hot buffet for hard-working sportswriters before each and every home game. Love that teriyaki chicken, fellas! Now the stage is set for the greatest sports rivalry in the history of the world. [What about the Olympics? – Copy Ed.] The difference this year: Mr. October, the Iron Horse, Curt Schilling. Take it from ol' Shill: the indestructible pitching ace will mow down the misleadingly-named "Yankees." With Schilling on the hill throwing smoke, real Sox fans from Fort Kent, Maine to Darien, Connecticut will rejoice because those pushy, aggressive New Yorkers have finally been put in their place. Yep, love of money can't triumph over true-blue American values forever. And, speaking of values, look for the illustrated version of my new book: Send the Curse Back Where It Came From, only $79.95 and coming soon from Schlox Sports Press! [Looks like ol' Shill was right – Ed.] The deconstruction of the alleged curse was laid out in the September issue of Boston Baseball, the unofficial program hawked outside Fenway Park for a fraction of the price of Larry Lucchino's Pravda, which peddles the party line inside. The conventional wisdom was that the Sox were cursed when then-owner Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees in 1919 to finance his production of No, No Nanette. This sordid assets sale, according to legend, doomed the Sox to perpetual futility, as borne out by last-minute Sox swoons in 1946, 1967, 1975, 1978, 1986 and 2003. Unfortunately, this dopey tale was manufactured by a demented hack named Fred Lieb in 1947. Lieb spun the yarn because of his lunatic belief that Harry Frazee was Jewish (in fact, Frazee was Episcopalian). Lieb, who ended his days as a desiccated crank faith healer in Florida, had learned that Frazee was Jewish either from his Ouija board or from Henry Ford's ferociously anti-Semitic Dearborn Independent. In Lieb's twisted world view, only a money-grubbing Jew would auction off the Babe to finance a show business venture. The facts, as demonstrated by Boston Baseball, are otherwise: Ruth was traded by Frazee for several players who at the time were thought to represent fair value for the Babe. In fact the Red Sox did better the year after they traded Ruth than they had in 1919. Frazee produced No, No, Nanette in 1925, two years after he sold the Red Sox to the first of a series of stiffs, culminating in gentleman racist Tom Yawkey, whose all-white teams went into the toilet when matched against American League clubs willing to sign black players. Lieb's anti-Semitic yarn was embodied in his 1947 Red Sox history, which was plundered freely by ace Spy Sports columnist Shill Shamelessly in his 1987 best-seller The Red Sox: Cursed or Jinxed? Since then, lazy sportswriters have glibly parroted Lieb's tale whenever they needed to fill up a column on an off day without rising from their barstools. But it was a crock then and it's a crock now. Now that we know there is no curse, the Red Sox should be able to thrash the Yankees in no more than six games, as long as the Red Sox don't cross Jerome Avenue after the game in search of rest and relaxation. If they do, they'll pick up a curse that might not respond to penicillin. |
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THAT'S NOT WHAT THE PIG SAID [UK Channel] Five is heading for a new storm over dumbed down reality TV shows after screening its most controversial broadcast yet in which David Beckham's alleged lover was shown masturbating a pig. Rebecca Loos, Beckham's former personal assistant, who gained notoriety earlier this year when she alleged she had conducted an affair with the England captain, carried out the procedure on Five's reality show, The Farm. Viewers were shown explicit footage of Loos, who donned rubber gloves to arouse the animal before collecting around a third of a litre of semen in a flask. The specimen was taken away and will be used to inseminate sows. Five said it was just a normal part of life on a farm, where animals have to be masturbated for breeding purposes. But viewers were critical. "It was just vile. It was probably the worst thing I have seen on TV. I just couldn't believe it was on television," said one today. Another said: "I was absolutely speechless." [Just like the pig – Ed.] "I couldn't watch it - it grossed me out," said a viewer who emailed the Digital Spy website. "Are there not laws against this kind of thing?" asked another. . . . Animal rights' pressure groups said last night's episode confirmed their worst fears about the show. "The celebrities don't belong on this farm, the cameras don't belong on this farm and the TV crews don't belong on this farm," said Andrew Butler, a spokesman for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. [What a wanker – Copy Ed.][That will do – Ed.] . . . . A peak of 1.6 million viewers watched as Loos completed the task on last night's show - The Farm's highest audience to date. By mid-morning today, Five said it had received four complaints. Ofcom was still checking. . . . Having completed her task, Loos told her fellow contestants: "My arms are aching! It lasts for about 10 minutes and he starts thrusting really hard and then I grip!" [Or about 9 minutes and 30 seconds longer – Copy Ed.][We are not going there. – Ed.] Fellow farm hand Debbie McGee told her: "You must do it really well." Before the series began, Five's controller of features and entertainment, Ben Frow, said the aim of the show was to reflect "real farm life. This is not about cheap titilation." – The Guardian, October 6, 2004 via media.guardian.co.uk. |