Lee Lowenfish

I hope the New Year brings you, dear readers, good health and some serenity in a very turbulent time

of history. Personally, I'm looking forward to the April publication of my book BASEBALL'S ENDANGERED SPECIES: INSIDE THE CRAFT OF SCOUTING BY THOSE WHO LIVED IT (U of Nebraska Press that published my Branch Rickey bio and the third edition of my labor history THE IMPERFECT DIAMOND.) 

 

I remain convinced that no organization can win without a good supply of eyes-and-ears scouting augmented but not enslaved to the endless modern technology and its search for certainty in a sport that defies it. I'm glad I'm giving props in my book to the people who deserve to be remembered for their largely selfless contributions of bringing good players and good people into the game.

 

The year 2022 ended with sadness for me with the loss of three dear friends, one of them being White Sox scout John Tumminia. He died at the age of 70 on December 4, 2022, after a long battle with auto-immune encephalitis, a form of brain cancer.

 

I met John not long after he started his scouting career in 1987. We were huddling from the rain in a shed back of home plate that disrupted batting practice before what may have been a minor league game of the Albany-Colonie Yankees. So began a friendship based on a love of the game in all its charms and mysteries.

 

John was named White Sox scout of the year in 2001 and was instrumental in giving the heads up

to many of the World Series winning 2005 team. John scouted Cuban baseball in its amateur heyday and at one time gave a positive recommendation to its entire national team.  Former Yankee champions Jose Contreras and "El Duque" Orlando Hernandez were part of the 2005 Chisox pitching staff. 

 

A native of Brooklyn, John was a graduate of the local St. Francis College where he made their baseball Hall of Fame.  How disappointed he was when many years ago his alma mater gave up the sport. 

 

He played pro ball in Italy in 1975 before returning to NY where for a while he taught theology at a high school in West Islip, NY.  From the mid-1980s through 2008, he was recreation director at the Shawangunk maximum security prison in Wallkill, near Newburgh.  

 

It was quite an experience to walk New York City streets or sit in a restaurant with John Tumminia. His ears and eyes were so attuned to the nuances of people's behavior that he picked up words and movements that I was oblivious to.

 

John was a practicing non-evangelical Christian who meditated every day and cared deeply about all of God's human beings. His compassion for the underprivileged led him to form the Baseball Miracles project to which he devoted his last years.  

 

He and his staff of volunteers sponsored baseball clinics and brought equpment to underserved youngsters all over the world, including Honduras, Kenya, South Africa, and Argentina. But he once told me that the worst poverty he ever saw was on a reservation in the Dakotas.  

 

In a touching piece that Scott Merkin wrote for MLB.com in December 2016, he described John as "a

thin version of Santa". He told the writer that "the expression on the kids' faces is like a light bulb."

 

Another loss last year was the passing of the superb writer and memoir teacher, Jean Hastings Ardell, who left us Oct 7 at the age of 79 after a courageous battle against multiple myeloma and long Covid.  

 

Jean and I met early this century at one of the NINE baseball magazine annual conferences in Arizona.  

She had already written an absorbing and informative book about women in our game, BREAKING INTO BASEBALL. The baseball bond and our shared New York City roots quickly led to us becoming fast friends.  

 

Unlike yours truly who returned in 1976 to NYC after some years in Wisconsin and Baltimore, Jean left our "home town" for college at Butler in Indianapolis and never came back except to visit. By 1965 she settled in southern California where she lived a vibrant life that included once playing bridge with John Wayne.  

 

I never found out more details about that experience or about her first job in SoCal as an assistant to the

renowned architect William Pereira.  She returned to college to get her BA at UC-Irvine in 1988 and

later got her master's in non-fiction writing at USC. 

 

Jean's last book was a collaboration with Ila Borders. MAKING MY PITCH, the story of the first

woman to pitch college baseball. Ila was the first speaker at the early December memorial that was attended by almost 300 people at Newport Beach St. Mark's Presbyterian Church.

 

I was among the many that tuned in via Zoom to hear Ila thank Jean for her gentle guidance as she worked towards the difficult process of coming out as a gay person.   

 

A deeply committed liberal, Jean was never dogmatic. Phil Lance, one of the friends of Jean and her husband Dan Ardell, noted that she taught us "how to open spaces where friendships can grow."

 

Annie Quinn, a writer that Jean mentored, summed up best our aching loss when she quoted Eleanor Roosevelt: "Only true friends leave footprints in your heart." 

 

I quote Jean in the title of this post. I will always remember her saying, "Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape."

 

I end in memory of another loss from 2022, Fred Herschowitz who died on August 24 two days before his 80th birthday.  Fred was the WBAI-Pacifica Radio broadcaster that brought me to the airwaves early in 1980 to discuss the first edition of my book, THE IMPERFECT DIAMOND.

 

I became a co-host with him on "Seventh Inning Stretch", the only long-running sports show that highly political leftist station ever scheduled.  I took over the show in late 1982 and remained for most of the decade.

 

Fred was the organizer of the WBAI softball team he aptly dubbed the Turtles.  I will always be

grateful to him for giving me the chance to play third base.  

 

What I lacked in arm and at the plate I tried to make up for with a chest willing to block a smash or two and having "just enough" arm to sling the ball to first base. 

 

Fred's enthusiasm and competitiveness on the softball field at times was overzealous. I'll never forget before a game against WQXR the classical music station, Fred took out a clipping of a violin and burned it.   

 

He was a big Mets fan and I have a feeling that he wouldn't be too thrilled with the team's

seemingly relentless pursuit of free agent shortstop Carlos Correa. Nor am I.

 

Yet Fred was a Queens native and very loyal to the Mets' orange and blue.  He was my neighbor on the Upper West Side and I will always feel the void when I walk up West End Avenue.  

 

That's all for now.  Always remember:  Take it easy but take it, stay positive test negative, and in this time of loss, the words of art and social critic John Ruskin resound more than ever: "There is no wealth but life." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I cannot say that I'm looking forward with any eagerness to the delayed opening of the MLB season on July 23 and 24. There are too many public health complications that could arise because of the still-uncontrolled coronavirus.  

 
Although travel will be mainly regional in the shortened 60-game regular season, teams will still be constantly on the road interacting with local populations that too often have disdained mask wearing and social distancing.   It may also be too much to expect the virile young players themselves to obey these rules and stick to their hotels while on the road.

 

There have already been some significant player defections. The biggest names so far who won't play at all in 2020 are Dodgers new southpaw David Price; Giants onetime All-Star catcher Buster Posey who doesn't want to put at risk his newly adopted infant twin daughters; and the Braves all-around outfielder Nick Markakis whose concern grew when he talked with his star teammate, first baseman Freddie Freeman who is already suffering with Covid-19.     

 
The quietly productive Markakis has 2355 career hits and will hurt his outside chance of reaching the magic number of 3000. Markakis was an Orioles mainstay for the first nine years of his career. But Baltimore blundered by not re-signing him after the 2014 season (sigh and double sigh. And still-active and productive Nelson Cruz too - more sighs.)   

 
Even before Freeman's affliction, Markakis was not thrilled at playing a season in empty stadiums. A gamer and a quiet leader, Nick liked playing in front of and for fans.  Perhaps he also remembered that game in 2013 when the Orioles played the White Sox in an empty Camden Yards after the riots sparked by Freddie Gray's death in police custody.  

 
As always, Houston's new manager Dusty Baker expressed some trenchant thoughts about baseball's situation during the pandemic. Interviewed during the Fourth of July weekend on WFAN's 33rd anniversary, he said he had used his time off clearing out a lot of unneeded stuff from closets and garages in his home.  

 
"We have too much," he noted.  The very charitable and socially conscious Baker, who at 71 is the oldest manager in MLB, said he donated a lot of material to garage sales and the homeless.  

 
Houston may have caught a break by the enforced idleness because the booing of the Astros in abbreviated spring training was intense.  Of course, the high tech-low comedy sign-stealing scandal occurred under previous manager A. J. Hinch and bench coach Alex Cora. 

 
Life must go on even in a pandemic.  "There is no wealth but life" remains my favorite adage courtesy of John Ruskin the British social theorist and art historian (who had no discovered connection to baseball, at least at press time).  

Here on the Upper West Side of New York City, we seem to be practicing social distancing and mask wearing very well.  The permanent closing of many restaurants and stores is very sad, but I was able this weekend to dine in the outdoors. Under Phase 3 recovery regulations,  surviving eateries are allowed to set up as many tables on sidewalks as space allows.

 
Before I close, I want to salute the memory of two nonagenarian creators who left us since I last posted: Composer-arranger Johnny Mandel, 94, and actor-comedian-writer Carl Reiner, 98.

 
I never met Carl Reiner but his role as a second banana to Sid Caesar on NBC Saturday  night's "Your Show of Shows" was a formative part of my first TV viewing in the early 1950s.  

 
Some of Reiner's bits with Caesar are etched forever in my brain.  Like his playing the title role in "The Dancing Doughboy" skit, a satire on World War I.  Poor Sid goes off to war while Carl is at home singing and dancing.  That's why you're fighting overseas, he tells Sid. So he can have fun at home.   

Or the Scrabble game where Reiner questions a strange word that Caesar has put down, and Sid challenges Carl's "MACHINE":  "What's this "MAC HINE?  That's not a word, it's a name." 

 
Reiner was truly American entertainment's Renaissance man.  He was Mel Brooks' interviewer on the hilarious "2000 Year Old Man" albums; director of TV's "Dick Van Dyke Show" and many movies; and of course father of actor-director Rob Reiner who first came to fame as Archie Bunker's son-in-law aka "Meathead". 

 
Dear reliable TCM will devote the evening and early morning hours on Th July 28 to a Reiner salute beginning with the semi-autobiographical "Enter Laughing" at 8p, followed by "All of Me" with Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin at 10p, "The Comic" at midnight, "Where's Poppa" at 2a, and "Oh God!" with George Burns at 330a.

 
While I'm plugging TCM's great programming, set your dials this coming Saturday night July 18 for "Bogie in 1941".  Coming at us back-to-back: "Maltese Falcon" at 8p, followed by "High Sierra" at 10p.  Earlier at 2p from 1944, Dick Powell breaks permanently free from his goody-two-shoes persona in "Murder, My Sweet". 

 

If that's not enough, at midnight Eddie Muller's Noir Alley features "Three Strangers" 1946 with that memorable duo of Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet plus Geraldine Fitzgerald all tied together by one winning lottery ticket. 

 

TCM program note:  After July 25-26 "The Breaking Point," John Garfield's last film, Noir Alley will be on hiatus in August, but happily will return the second weekend in September.

 
Another great loss to our culture recently was Johnny Mandel, 94, in southern California. The New York-born composer-arranger - his early schooling was at PS 6 on Upper East Side - gifted the world with many great movie melodies.

 

A partial list includes "The Shadow of Your Smile" (from "The Sandpiper" with Liz Taylor and Richard Burton); "Emily" (from the "Americanization of Emily" with James Garner and Julie Andrews); "Suicide Is Painless" (the theme from "M*A*S*H); and a particular favorite of mine, the chromatically lush "Close Enough For Love" (from "Agatha").  

 

"I Want to Live" was his early breakthrough score in the 1950s, based on the real story of the jazz-loving unfairly-convicted murderer Barbara Graham (Susan Hayward). 

 
In one of my last interviews for WBAI-Pacifica in 1991, I visited Mandel when he was staying at a hotel in New York.  For all the great acclaim he received for his writing for movies, he considered playing horns in the Count Basie band in the 1950s his greatest musical thrill.  

 
We lost another great nonagenarian movie composer last week when Ennio Morricone died at 91.

 

And finally, here's a hoist of a glass to film-maker Kevin Rafferty, who left us much too early at age 73.  His doc. about the nuclear industry, "The Atomic Cafe," is a renowned classic.  

 
I discovered his work through his enjoyable and informative documentary "Harvard Beats Yale, 29-29," about the 1968 classic football encounter between two undefeated Ivy League powerhouses.  Viewing this film might take the sting away from the recent announcement that there will be no Ivy League football in the fall of 2020. 

 

Let's hope these great creators are never forgotten.  And those younger amongst us can find inspiration for such memorable fulfillment in our work. 

 
Always remember:  Take it easy but take it!