"Remember, a writer writes, always."
Larry Donner (Billy Crystal) in "Throw Momma From the Train."
OK, that wasn’t a great movie. It really wasn’t even a good movie. It’s mostly memorable because Anne Ramsey ("Momma") was perfect casting. It’s hard to imagine anyone else in that role, and it’s hard to imagine her playing anyone else. She was nominated for an Academy Award for that memorable performance.
But, that quote above from the movie popped into my head over the weekend as I was pondering this brief article. Now, it’s presumptuous to consider myself a "writer" after 6 months of publishing material on this site. That’s a pretty short time. However, I have noticed that, since I started writing, my brain works differently. I am always trying to think of new material, new topics. I look at people and events and think to myself, "I wonder if that would be interesting to anyone else?" "Would it make a worthwhile piece?" So, a writer doesn’t literally always write…..but I think a writer is consistently thinking about writing.
Up to this point, virtually all of my material has been about baseball, and when it hasn’t, it has still been in some way related to sports. However, I have noticed that there is certainly room for other topics in this space. If you look at some of Bill’s articles, or "Hey Bill", or "Reader Posts", there are definitely other topics that get discussed. Certainly, politics is a popular topic. So, even though we all know what the primary focus of the site is, there does appear to be room for other topics. So, as I’m still working on finalizing my next major project (which is coming, I promise), I’m always looking for short, quick articles to fill the gap.
Channeling my Inner Posnanski
It probably goes without saying that the #1 influence on my baseball thinking and writing is Bill James. I’m still amazed that I get the opportunity to write on this site. I’ve been reading him for over 40 years, and he has helped shaped the way I look at many things, even outside of baseball and sports. Not that I always agree with him, of course. That would be more than anyone could or should expect. But I always respect the way that he approaches something, the way that he considers the options, and the manner in which he presents his findings.
So, he’s clearly #1 in my list of personal influences when it comes to writing. But, #2 would have to be Joe Posnanski. I’m always anticipating his next article or blog entry. Like I do with Bill, I find myself eagerly looking forward to what he will write about next. And, as is the case with Bill’s writings, I may not agree with everything he says, but that’s really beside the point. I’m always interested in seeing what he will say, and I appreciate the manner in which he writes about the topics. If Bill James is Babe Ruth, Joe Posnanski is Lou Gehrig.
I do feel a certain connection to Posnanski. Like him, I was born in Ohio, although he’s Cleveland-area and I’m Cincinnati/Dayton area, so that poses a bit of a dilemma on the football front. However, Joe did spend a few years writing for the Cincinnati Post, and he wrote a fantastic book a few years back called "The Machine" about the Big Red Machine, which was the team I grew up admiring. We’re close to the same age (I have a few years on him), he’s married with 2 kids (as am I), and he seems to have a certain affinity for "The Princess Bride". I can certainly relate to him.
One specific thing I’ve noticed about his columns is that, while they are, of course, overwhelmingly about sports, he occasionally dips into his personal life and writes about his family. It is in that vein that I decided I would post this, because I can’t believe I had this conversation.
Friday Nights
We tend to eat in most nights during the week. Simple, family dinners, especially given everyone’s hectic schedules, seem to work best. By the time Friday evening rolls around, though, we like to take a little break from the routine, so our ritual is that I will bring in something on my way home from work. Chipotle is a common choice for the brood, sometimes it’s "Big Boy", sometimes Indian. This past Friday the consensus was Penn Station East Coast Subs. Now, I don’t know how familiar you are with Penn Station. Even though it’s labeled "East Coast Subs", it’s headquartered in Cincinnati, OH. Apparently it was originally inspired by Philly cheese steaks, and they specialize in grilled subs. I believe you find Penn Stations mostly in the Midwest and the South.
When I bring in from Penn Station, it’s mostly a no-brainer. Mostly. My wife always gets the same thing – grilled artichoke with mushrooms, no mayo. My daughter always gets the same thing – cheese bread with pizza sauce (basically, a pizza sub). They know what they like, and they decided on their favorites a long time ago. They’re as locked in as Von Miller on a quarterback, Bryce Harper on a pitch right down the middle, and Steph Curry on the rim after he takes a step or two over midcourt. They’re easy.
My son……not so much.
My son is deliberate. He likes to dabble. He likes to experiment. He likes to try different things. He doesn’t have a favorite at any restaurant. Each time I need to call in my order to somewhere, he wants to know all the options. What’s on their menu? Has it changed lately? Did they add anything new? So, I know that each Friday, I have to allow a little extra time to extract his choice.
I’m not complaining, mind you. I can appreciate the fact that he wants to carefully consider his options. He wants to make the perfect choice every time. It’s that type of patience and careful consideration that led me to marry relatively late in life. It’s like I tell people….if I had met my wife sooner, I would have married her…..but I hadn’t met her yet. If I had settled for less earlier, I wouldn’t have ultimately made the right choice. So, I can appreciate where the lad is coming from.
Anyway, I called to get everyone’s order so I could phone it in, and after confirming my wife and my daughter’s usual choices, here’s the way the rest of the conversation unfolded:
Me: "OK son, tonight it’s Penn Station. What would you like?"
Him: "What did I have last time? I bet you don’t remember." (Note – he likes to get in little digs like that)
Me: "I think you had a grilled chicken"
Him: "What else do they have?"
Me: "Let’s see….corned beef, turkey, tuna, veggie, cheese steak. Pretty much anything."
Him: "I don’t know".
Me: "Your sister’s getting a pizza sub."
Him: "What’s mom getting?"
Me: "She’s getting her usual – grilled artichoke with mushrooms, no mayo"
Him: "Oooh. That sounds amazing!"
Me: "So, is that what you want?"
Him: "Yeah. Although, can you sub turkey for the artichoke?"
Pause for silence……
Me: "Um…you want a grilled artichoke, but substitute turkey for the artichoke?"
Him: "Yes. That sounds amazing." (note – he likes to describe things as "amazing")
Me: "Son, I believe they call that a grilled turkey."
Him: "Well, I really want the grilled artichoke, but I want turkey instead of the artichoke, is all".
Me: "So, what was the part that sounded so ‘amazing’ about the grilled artichoke when I first mentioned it? The ‘grilled’ part?"
Silence…..
Me: "I think I need to order that as a grilled turkey. So, let’s start with that. What do you want on it? Lettuce? Tomato?"
Him: "Dad, I’m not going to go through it with you. I told you what I want."
Me: "OK. A grilled artichoke. Hold the artichoke. Sub with turkey?"
Him: "Yes"
Me: "OK. Bye."
Him: "Bye Dad. And thanks."
It felt an awful lot like that scene from "Five Easy Pieces" where Jack Nicholson was trying to get some plain toast but it wasn’t on the menu, and he went back and forth with the waitress over it, and he finally ordered a chicken salad sandwich on toast, but hold the chicken. I think you remember the rest of the scene……
So, I thought about it for a little, and tried to put together what my son was trying to tell me. He wasn’t trying to be difficult. I recalled he once had ordered a grilled artichoke sub before. And he liked it, but he wasn’t crazy about the artichoke. So, he liked everything else that it came with…..just not the artichoke itself. He liked the oregano, the provolone, the parmesan, and the mushrooms. That’s what he wanted....with turkey. So, I called it in as a grilled turkey, with those particular extras. And, he loved it.
So, yes, a writer writes, always. Except sometimes, the stories essentially write themselves. If you have kids, you probably know exactly what I mean.
You can’t make this stuff up.