My former flatmate worked for eHarmony for six months.
They're based here in Pasadena, CA, not too far from where I am now.
Here's what I can tell you about their matching system...
(This info is direct from their employee training material, which he kept):
- Christians are only to be matched with Christians, regardless if match percentage with another religion is higher.
- Atheists or agnostics are generally informed that they "have no matches"
- Sexual preferences other than "straight" are told that they have no matches.
eHarmony is a fundamentalist christian-run company. A fair portion of the staff is made up of members of the WorldWide Church of God (an apocalyptic cult, which has often voiced views of intolerance towards atheists, muslims, jews and homosexuals) which I attended with my parents as a child.
If you're anything but a fundamentalist christian, I can't in good conscience recommend eHarmony.com to you.
Oh, yeah, and another thing about them;
One of the questions during the interview is:
"What is your position on same-sex matching?"
Answering anything other than "I am against it" will not get you hired. There is currently a class-action lawsuit in progress by two people I know, who were posed this question in the interview. One responded that they had no problem with it. She was dismissed immediately. The second one said "I have no position on it." and was hired. He was fired within two weeks for pairing two eHarmony customers of the same sex.
Oh, and their matching system isn't really done by computer; It's done by the customer service reps that sit there and sort through the applications, and select from a list of existing customers to match new customers with.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
High definition reveals more flaws on TV
Not Ready for Their Close-Up
Cap Lesesne, a New York plastic surgeon, hears from a lot of women worried about aging. Late last year, he says, he had one visitor, a female newscaster, whose inquiries puzzled him. She was only in her 30's, he says, and still looked terrific. (Lesesne, citing doctor-patient confidentiality, wouldn't identify the woman.) When he asked her why she wanted surgery, she explained that her show was about to begin broadcasting in ''high-definition,'' the hot new digital technology that makes TV images look as crisp and sharp as IMAX films. On normal TV, she said, you can't see her few tiny wrinkles; in high-def, they stand out like folds of origami. ''When she walked in here,'' Lesesne says, '' 'high-def' was the first thing that came out of her mouth.''
Celebrities are considered attractive at least in part because they're suited to the technology of the age. The transition from silent movies to talkies destroyed many actors' careers, as did the shift from black-and-white to color. While almost all prime-time TV on the major broadcast networks is shot in high-def, there are only 18 million of the pricey, wide-screen sets in use. But that number is expected to more than triple by next year, and the new scrutiny that comes with high-def is already making some on-camera talent nervous. ''There are a lot of people who are going to be affected by this,'' says Deborah Paulmann, a makeup artist for ''Late Night with Conan O'Brien.''
To understand why high-def is so unforgiving, consider the numbers. Today's new top-of-the-line HD televisions can display two million pixels, nearly 10 times the resolution of a regular, old-style TV set. Also, the screens are the size of a tabletop. Watching a show in high definition is thus rather like being Gulliver in the land of Brobdingnag -- where every pore on the giants' faces looms like a shell-blasted crater. Many new
''I'm seeing people in a whole new way,'' says Phillip Swann, president of OnHD.TV, an online magazine. ''If somebody's aging or if they've got any old acne damage, it just jumps out at you. They've got no chance.'' The editors of OnHD.TV examined several dozen stars and compiled a list of heartthrobs who (they claim) wither under the unblinking gaze of high-def, including Cameron Diaz (''littered with unfortunate pockmarks''), Jewel (whose makeup ''looks like it was done by Ringling Brothers'') and Bill Maher (''scary''). I've seen the effect myself: when I recently watched a high-def close-up of Bradley Whitford -- a handsome star of ''The West Wing'' -- a normally insignificant mark on his forehead suddenly stood out like a third eye. I couldn't stop staring.
The high-def format's merciless gaze isn't solely a matter of screen resolution. Color is a factor, too. For years, government standards have limited the range of colors available to broadcasters, based on the technological limits of the time. With high-def, more colors can be used, including some formerly forbidden shades of red -- which means that blotches, zits and tiny nose-veins can be presented with the brutal clarity of a surgery textbook.
''It's almost too realistic, too digital and computery,'' complains Alexis Vogel, a veteran celebrity makeup artist who recently worked on ''Stacked,'' a high-def show starring Pamela Anderson. ''We'd all like to go back to the old days.'' Makeup artists are now engaged in an arms race with the new medium. But they face a paradox: while makeup is more necessary than ever, its artifice is more obvious. You can't slather on powder when every grain looks like a boulder on your client's face. And interestingly, many cosmeticians predict that high-def could actually reduce the amount of plastic surgery in Hollywood, because the tiny seams look Frankensteinian at such high resolution. High-def is, in essence, a medium peculiarly unsuited to dissembling. ''It's harder to change people from their natural form,'' Vogel adds.
This will probably put an ever-higher premium on genuinely natural beauty -- those lucky few people who require virtually no touch-up. Indeed, high-def fans say that some stars look better in the new medium: Anna Kournikova, George Clooney and Catherine Zeta-Jones glow like supernovas, and, Vogel says, ''in high-def, Halle Berry's skin is so beautiful and flawless, she's almost a genetic freak.''
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Buster Olney on Mike Piazza
6/1/05
Went to Shea Stadium on Tuesday night and spent the first few innings astonished by the play of Mike Piazza.
Some day, he will be inducted into the Hall of Fame, probably on the first ballot; he's got my vote. Sometime later this year, or maybe early next year, he'll hammer his 400th home run. The Mets probably wouldn't have made the playoffs in 1999 without him, or reached The Subway Series in 2000, for that matter. His legacy is secure.
And, in 2005, there may not be a player who has less life in his actions – in how he moves, in the energy he projects – than the Mets' catcher.
He walks everywhere. After drawing a base on balls in his second at-bat, he walked to first base, and when Cliff Floyd hit an inning-ending chopper toward second baseman Craig Counsell, Piazza barely jogged to second – and then slowed to a walk and then stopped, as Counsell threw to first. Had Counsell juggled the ball and botched the play at first, he could have thrown to second for a force play.
Piazza walks out to his position; he walks back to the dugout. Not in a steady amble, either; it's a slow my-knees-are-killing-me or oh-man-do-I-have-to-catch-another-inning stroll. Some hitters stride purposefully toward the plate as they are announced, like they can't wait to hit. On Tuesday night, it was as if Piazza dragged his bat to the batter's box.
Watch Boston's Jason Varitek catch, and you will see how much he works at deceiving the hitters on pitch location, shifting at the last second, moving his glove, as the target, from the inside corner to the outside corner just as the pitcher starts his delivery. He bounces back and forth, and even if he weren't fully engaged – he is, by the way – the pitcher would think he is, simply by his actions and body language.
During the last decade, the Yankees' Joe Girardi and Jorge Posada would be in full sprint up the first base line on ground balls, bouncing in full gear up the line behind the base runners, just in case the throw to first got away. Gregg Zaun of the Toronto Blue Jays might be the most active catcher in the game, doing everything at full speed.
Piazza is at the opposite end of the movement spectrum. Whether there are runners on base or not, he will give the signal for the hitter and then shift his body once to set his target. And stay there. For one second. Two. Three seconds. Sometimes more. If there are no runners on base and the hitter has any kind of peripheral vision, he would have every opportunity to see where Piazza is setting up.
And if there are runners on base – particularly a runner at second – they are afforded eons to signal the pitch location to the hitter. Piazza shifts his body over the outside corner, lifts his glove, and never moves, for what must seem like an eternity to the baserunners; they've got enough time to place a cell phone call to hitters.
You wonder if the stiffness in his movement affects the rest of his play. Early in Tuesday's game, there was a chopper in front of home plate, and Piazza moved after the ball, lurching a bit, and he seemed totally off-balance as he grabbed the ball; in that instant, he was required to go from a statue behind the plate to full-speed, and he bounced the ball to second base, for an error.
Most of the best-throwing catchers don't necessarily have the best pure arm, but the best feet; they move quickly, setting themselves and putting their bodies quickly in the best possible position to unload the ball. Watch Ivan Rodriguez do this, or the Astros' Brad Ausmus. Piazza is really struggling throwing – he's cut down only 10.9 percent of base stealers, the lowest mark in his career – and you wonder if that has more to do with his feet than with his arm. It can't help that he never actually practices throwing during games anywhere close to full speed; at the end of the pitcher's warm-ups, he just kind of tosses the ball to second, rather than going at 85 percent, just to prepare himself.
It's probably the wear and tear of catching for almost two decades; Piazza is 36 and playing baseball's most brutal position. Maybe years of playing amid stardom and expectations in New York have worn him out. He just doesn't look like he's having any fun whatsoever.
Maybe he deserves a pass. Maybe he doesn't. The Mets are trying to win and change the direction of the franchise, and Piazza's body language and energy could not be worse. It would be interesting to hear from readers as to what standard they hold stars to late in their careers.
Piazza's been a great player for a long time. No matter the case, he's finishing his time with the Mets in slow motion.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Gay guy as HS prom dates
A Prince Charming for the Prom (Not Ever After, Though)
LATELY I've become wary of the question "Frank, what are you doing next Saturday night?" In the month of May it can only mean one thing: I'm going to yet another prom. And no, I'm not doing a favor for a cousin. Cousins are out. I'm this century's new answer to the last-minute prom date: the gay best friend.
By the end of June I'll have worn the tuxedo I swiped from the school drama department three or four times. While most 18-year-old guys are preparing for their one big night, I'm whipping up more magical evenings than Lance Burton or David Copperfield.
I am also swimming in corsages. I went to the florist today for the second time this week, and she gave me a suspicious look. Does she know what I'm up to? After all, I can't be the only one who understands that gay is the new cousin.
Until recently this wasn't really possible, because most gay men postponed coming out until college or later, if they came out at all. But now more and more young men are coming out in high school. I knew I was gay in sixth grade and came out in eighth. Originally I didn't plan to tell anyone until ninth grade, when I would enroll in a new school, but I decided I needed to let people know who I really was.
My decision had a traumatic aftermath. How is a school supposed to handle the coming out of an eighth grader? My middle school also contained an elementary school, and alarmed parents feared for their little children, worried, I suppose, that I might convert them or something.
I endured a set of excruciating meetings with school administrators during which parameters for my behavior were discussed. That and the cruelty of my classmates left me feeling isolated and scared, and I found myself turning mostly to girls for support and friendship.
Although things improved in high school, I still found myself relying primarily on friendships with girls, some of whom I met at summer drama camps and who attended different schools.
As I see it, these girls saved me, and now it's my turn to save them. Dancing a few steps in a beautified gymnasium is the least I could do to thank the girls who helped me become who I am.
I don't even have to go broke doing this. Any girl who's progressive enough to go to her prom with a gay guy understands that it's no longer the 1950's and that I shouldn't have to pay for everything. They also understand I won't turn into a drunken, groping creep in the middle of the evening, so I figure it's an even trade.
And unlike the goofy cousin who might arrive in a ruffled, powder-blue tux and tell embarrassing stories about computer camp, I'm a safe, chic choice. Neither of us will blush with sexual tension when it comes time to attach corsage to bosom. I won't make a fool of my date or myself with awkward straight-boy dancing. And I'll help her figure out the details of her dress and hairstyle. After all, we wouldn't want anyone committing social suicide on the biggest night of our tender young lives.
As the gay date, I also make one of the evening's most unpleasant moments a breeze. I have no problem meeting the girl's parents, a typical sticking point for most guys, because I know that wise and open-minded parents are smart enough to realize that a gay guy is their daughter's best and safest prom bet.
If I were a worried mother of a dateless daughter, I would scour the hip coffee shops of my town waving a rainbow flag in search of recruits. It might cause my daughter to die of embarrassment, but at least she would have a fabulous night out and wouldn't make me a grandmother anytime soon.
At the proms themselves, though, I'm supposed to be straight, so I do my best. Am I ever worried about being found out? Not really. My friend Katie goes to a Catholic high school, and at her prom I even passed rigid nun interrogation.
On our way through the lineup of nun inspectors, they shook my hand and eyed me up and down before pronouncing me a fit suitor. So what do I have to worry about? Then again, maybe nuns aren't known for their finely tuned gay-dar.
One thing I've discovered in my brief barrage of proms is that they're all pretty much the same. There's that sense of finality, of going out with a bang.
GAY or not, there's still that stomach-churning feeling of anticipation as you and your date see each other in your formal dress for the first time. There's the poor couple wearing the absolute wrong ensemble. There's that burned-out feeling in the early morning from so much fun packed into so little time. Rest assured that the onset of horror from wondering what the pictures will look like decades from now is there every time as well.
But sometimes our expectations get the better of us, and the prom's real purpose is lost. It's one of the last times to be together and have fun as a class before everyone scatters and comes back to the reunion 10 years later balding, divorced, wildly successful or exactly, pathetically the same.
Whether you loved your own prom, hated it, missed it, only made it to the parking lot or were too drunk to remember, there's no denying it's a milestone that happens only once. Or, in my case, several times.
The one thing I can't understand is why many of my female friends, who are charming, attractive and fun to be with, don't have straight male suitors to accompany them. Surely the school halls aren't filled with date-snatching floozies offering the one thing no teenage guy, except the gay best friend, can say no to. So I've got to believe I see things in these girls that straight guys can't because with me the element of sexual attraction was never there to begin with.
Many young gay men make friends with the cool girls who fly under the radar because they don't possess conventional good looks and they don't put out. We get to know these girls for the things about them that matter.
Sometimes I want to hold up a sign that says: "Here! Date this girl, you idiot!" Of course if they aren't smart enough to figure out a girl is worth dating, they probably aren't worthy of the girl in the first place.
Perhaps this is why certain girls and certain gay guys become such good friends in high school. They're waiting for an environment that isn't based on popularity or games, an atmosphere where they can thrive. While I've had an excellent time in high school these past four years, I have to believe there is something better out there for me in years to come. I know many of my friends feel the same way.
We've all heard famous women talk about how they were ostracized in high school or unpopular with the boys, only later to become gorgeous and desired. Even though they ended up successful, they never had that high school experience of the prom, that one magical time that can never be taken away. I'm here to provide this to many future famous women, even if I don't get it for myself.
As much as I'd like to, I will not be attending my own school's prom with a guy. My florist must know this because each time I walk in, she always flips past the boutonniere section of her prom accessories book.
I wish this weren't the case. I wish I could take someone with me, because I've got prom dreams of my own.
They involve buying expensive ingredients at the gourmet food store and spending the entire day making dinner with my date. We would enjoy the food even more knowing we put all the effort into making it ourselves.
When we walked into the dance, the two of us would initially stun people, not because we were two guys but just because we looked great. I wouldn't care if I had to learn to make clothes myself if it meant avoiding that awkward "I rented this, and it doesn't quite fit" look. I would be able to hold his hand all night without feeling weird or attracting attention. By the time it was over, we would be so tired we wouldn't even care.
RIGHT now, however, my prom dream is just that. My school is a great place, but out of about 500 students, there are only a few other openly gay kids. (There are also a handful of openly bisexual girls, but that's considered trendy, so they don't count.)
I'm pretty brave, but sorry, I just don't feel ready to take a boy to prom. I once tried to take a boy to a school dance, and it was just too weird. It felt like every eye was focused on us for all the wrong reasons.
Maybe things will be better for younger guys. I hope so.
At my school, attending the prom in groups of friends is normal and acceptable, so that's what I'm doing. Time to drag out that tuxedo again. But I'm looking forward to it. I will thank my friends for the great times and try not to focus on the thing I cannot yet have. I'll walk in feeling sad and knowing that, for better or worse, I'll be leaving these people in the fall. We'll all go off to our own lives. Who knows what'll happen in mine?
All proms have their cheesy themes, and ours is no exception. "Let the Dreams Begin!" cries out from invitations and prom updates throughout our school.
My dream began a long time ago. I'm just waiting for it to come true.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Women and competition
What Women Want
Suppose you could eliminate the factors often blamed for the shortage of women in high-paying jobs. Suppose that promotions and raises did not depend on pleasing sexist male bosses or putting in long nights and weekends away from home. Would women make as much as men?
Economists recently tried to find out in an experiment in Pittsburgh by paying men and women to add up five numbers in their heads. At first they worked individually, doing as many sums as they could in five minutes and receiving 50 cents for each correct answer. Then they competed in four-person tournaments, with the winner getting $2 per correct answer and the losers getting nothing.
On average, the women made as much as the men under either system. But when they were offered a choice for the next round - take the piece rate or compete in a tournament - most women declined to compete, even the ones who had done the best in the earlier rounds. Most men chose the tournament, even the ones who had done the worst.
The men's eagerness partly stemmed from overconfidence, because on average men rated their ability more highly than the women rated theirs. But interviews and further experiments convinced the researchers, Muriel Niederle of Stanford and Lise Vesterlund of the University of Pittsburgh, that the gender gap wasn't due mainly to women's insecurities about their abilities. It was due to different appetites for competition.
"Even in tasks where they do well, women seem to shy away from competition, whereas men seem to enjoy it too much," Professor Niederle said. "The men who weren't good at this task lost a little money by choosing to compete, and the really good women passed up a lot of money by not entering tournaments they would have won."
You can argue that this difference is due to social influences, although I suspect it's largely innate, a byproduct of evolution and testosterone. Whatever the cause, it helps explain why men set up the traditional corporate ladder as one continual winner-take-all competition - and why that structure no longer makes sense.
Now that so many employees (and more than half of young college graduates) are women, running a business like a tournament alienates some of the most talented workers and potential executives. It also induces competition in situations where cooperation makes more sense.
The result is not good for the bottom line, as demonstrated by a study from the Catalyst research organization showing that large companies yield better returns to stockholders if they have more women in senior management. A friend of mine, a businessman who buys companies, told me one of the first things he looks at is the gender of the boss.
"The companies run by women are much more likely to survive," he said. "The typical guy who starts a company is a competitive, charismatic leader - he's always the firm's top salesman - but if he leaves he takes his loyal followers with him and the company goes downhill. Women C.E.O.'s know how to hire good salespeople and create a healthy culture within the company. Plus they don't spend 20 percent of their time in strip clubs."
Still, for all the executive talents that women have, for all the changes that are happening in the corporate world, there will always be some jobs that women, on average, will not want as badly as men do. Some of the best-paying jobs require crazed competition and the willingness to risk big losses - going broke, never seeing your family and friends, dying young.
The women in the experiment who didn't want to bother with a five-minute tournament are not likely to relish spending 16 hours a day on a Wall Street trading floor. It's not fair to deny women a chance at those jobs, but it's not realistic to expect that they'll seek them in the same numbers that men will.
For two decades, academics crusading for equality in the workplace have been puzzled by surveys showing that women are at least as satisfied with their jobs and their pay as men are. This is known as "the paradox of the contented female worker."
But maybe it's not such a paradox after all. Maybe women, like the ones who shunned the experimental tournament, know they could make more money in some jobs but also know they wouldn't enjoy competing for it as much as their male rivals. They realize, better than men, that in life there's a lot more at stake than money.
For Futher Reading: Do Women Shy Away from Competition? by Niederle Muriel, and Lise Vesterlund (working paper) Performance in Competitive Environments: Gender Differences by Uri Gneezy, Muriel Niederle and Aldo Rustichini (Quarterly Journal of Economics, CXVIII, August 2003, 1049 – 1074) Women Don’t Ask: Negotiation and the Gender Divide by Linda Babcock and Sara Laschever (Princeton University Press, 240 pp., September 2003) Heroes, Rogues, and Lovers: Testosterone and Behavior by James McBride Dabbs with Mary Godwin Dabbs (McGraw-Hill, 256 pp., July 2000) The First Sex : The Natural Talents of Women and How They Are Changing the World by Helen Fisher (Random House, 377 pp., May 1999)Thursday, May 19, 2005
Shea hey, time to change trains
Linky
Shea hey, time to change trains!
By BILL PRICE
Ahh, it's Subway Series time again. That part of the season where Yankee fans hope the Mets don't ruin their weekend and Met fans hope the Yanks don't wreck their season.
It's the longest two weekends of the season for die-hard Met and Yankee fans.
You'll notice I didn't say all baseball fans in the area, just the die-hards.
Let me confess that I am a Mets fan, a big one. Like most die-hard Mets fans, I lose sleep after a tough loss and lose my grip on reality after a big win. I have a daughter named Shea and would've named my son Mookie, but my wife wouldn't go for it. From Doug Flynn to Doug Mientkiewicz, I've spent every summer of my life living and dying - mostly dying - with the boys from Queens.
I also know many die-hard Yankee fans. I work with some, live near some. They are mostly in their late 40s and beyond. They know why nobody on the current Yankees wears No. 4 and when you ask them to name the greatest catcher in Yankee history, they don't say Joe Girardi. They appreciate what Joe Torre's Yankees have done, but don't take it for granted. And, like me and the rest of the Met fans in the area, they are few and far between.
You see, this city consists of millions of fans who love to play follow the leader.
They started rooting for the Mets the minute Gary Carter arrived, but switched over to the dark side around the same time Jeffrey Maier was making his game-winning catch in Game 1 of the 1996 ALCS.
Need some proof? In 1987, the Mets drew over 3 million people to Shea. In 1996, they drew 1.5 million less. Last year, the Yanks drew 3.7 million to the Bronx. In 1986, you guessed it, the number was 2.2 million - 1.5 million less.
Need more proof? In 1991, Billy Crystal wore a Mets hat in "City Slickers" (it's right on the movie poster). By 1996 you got the impression he had been at every Yankee game ever played.
With the exception of Crystal, most of these "Yankee fans" are between the ages of 25 and 40, have highlight videos from 1986 and 1996 in their collection, own Mookie Wilson and Enrique Wilson jerseys, and every once in a while get on the 7 train instead of the 4 train. They are folks called "bandwagoners," and it's people like them I wonder about this weekend.
Now, they will never admit they are bandwagoners, they will swear they are die-hard Yankee fans, but we all know where they spent their time in the summer of 1986. We know they were the ones booing Mariano Rivera in April. We know they still have a Met cap in their closet, just in case.
So just what do they do tomorrow night when Victor Zambrano takes the hill in Queens? Oh, sure, they'll be reminding Met fans about Scott Kazmir, but they'll also be looking out at that big screen in left and thinking about the first time they did "The Curly Shuffle."
But mostly, they will be questioning the decision they made nine years ago.
Sure, they've seen the Yanks win four titles since 1996, but they also know, deep down, the tide could be turning.
After all, the Yanks may have A-Rod, but the Mets have the best Japanese infielder in the National League. Sure Derek Jeter is exciting, but nothing beats the thrill of watching Jose Reyes sprint to first, praying he doesn't blow out his hammy. And we all know which team's manager does the better acting in that Subway commercial.
Plus, there's no Jason Giambi and no John Sterling in Queens, and we have Anna Benson. There's three reasons right there to switch.
With the Mets showing a pulse, the A's and Mariners not on the Yanks' schedule until Labor Day, and Lee Mazzilli - he started as a Met, you know - and his Orioles still atop the AL East, I have to warn all you bandwagoners that your window of opportunity to switch back to the Mets is getting smaller each day.
So before you yell out "Who's Your Daddy?" every time you see Pedro, ask yourself, "Who's My Baseball Team?" Then look deep into your soul and think about all the good times the gritty, gutty Mets gave you when Sid Fernandez was literally the biggest unit in town. So find your Hojo jersey, take it out of moth balls, put it on and and come home.
But, remember, time is of the essence. The Met bangwagon may be full come Sunday afternoon. Then again, it could be completely out of gas.
Bill Price is an associate sports editor with the Daily News.
Originally published on May 19, 2005
Shea hey, time to change trains!
By BILL PRICE
Ahh, it's Subway Series time again. That part of the season where Yankee fans hope the Mets don't ruin their weekend and Met fans hope the Yanks don't wreck their season.
It's the longest two weekends of the season for die-hard Met and Yankee fans.
You'll notice I didn't say all baseball fans in the area, just the die-hards.
Let me confess that I am a Mets fan, a big one. Like most die-hard Mets fans, I lose sleep after a tough loss and lose my grip on reality after a big win. I have a daughter named Shea and would've named my son Mookie, but my wife wouldn't go for it. From Doug Flynn to Doug Mientkiewicz, I've spent every summer of my life living and dying - mostly dying - with the boys from Queens.
I also know many die-hard Yankee fans. I work with some, live near some. They are mostly in their late 40s and beyond. They know why nobody on the current Yankees wears No. 4 and when you ask them to name the greatest catcher in Yankee history, they don't say Joe Girardi. They appreciate what Joe Torre's Yankees have done, but don't take it for granted. And, like me and the rest of the Met fans in the area, they are few and far between.
You see, this city consists of millions of fans who love to play follow the leader.
They started rooting for the Mets the minute Gary Carter arrived, but switched over to the dark side around the same time Jeffrey Maier was making his game-winning catch in Game 1 of the 1996 ALCS.
Need some proof? In 1987, the Mets drew over 3 million people to Shea. In 1996, they drew 1.5 million less. Last year, the Yanks drew 3.7 million to the Bronx. In 1986, you guessed it, the number was 2.2 million - 1.5 million less.
Need more proof? In 1991, Billy Crystal wore a Mets hat in "City Slickers" (it's right on the movie poster). By 1996 you got the impression he had been at every Yankee game ever played.
With the exception of Crystal, most of these "Yankee fans" are between the ages of 25 and 40, have highlight videos from 1986 and 1996 in their collection, own Mookie Wilson and Enrique Wilson jerseys, and every once in a while get on the 7 train instead of the 4 train. They are folks called "bandwagoners," and it's people like them I wonder about this weekend.
Now, they will never admit they are bandwagoners, they will swear they are die-hard Yankee fans, but we all know where they spent their time in the summer of 1986. We know they were the ones booing Mariano Rivera in April. We know they still have a Met cap in their closet, just in case.
So just what do they do tomorrow night when Victor Zambrano takes the hill in Queens? Oh, sure, they'll be reminding Met fans about Scott Kazmir, but they'll also be looking out at that big screen in left and thinking about the first time they did "The Curly Shuffle."
But mostly, they will be questioning the decision they made nine years ago.
Sure, they've seen the Yanks win four titles since 1996, but they also know, deep down, the tide could be turning.
After all, the Yanks may have A-Rod, but the Mets have the best Japanese infielder in the National League. Sure Derek Jeter is exciting, but nothing beats the thrill of watching Jose Reyes sprint to first, praying he doesn't blow out his hammy. And we all know which team's manager does the better acting in that Subway commercial.
Plus, there's no Jason Giambi and no John Sterling in Queens, and we have Anna Benson. There's three reasons right there to switch.
With the Mets showing a pulse, the A's and Mariners not on the Yanks' schedule until Labor Day, and Lee Mazzilli - he started as a Met, you know - and his Orioles still atop the AL East, I have to warn all you bandwagoners that your window of opportunity to switch back to the Mets is getting smaller each day.
So before you yell out "Who's Your Daddy?" every time you see Pedro, ask yourself, "Who's My Baseball Team?" Then look deep into your soul and think about all the good times the gritty, gutty Mets gave you when Sid Fernandez was literally the biggest unit in town. So find your Hojo jersey, take it out of moth balls, put it on and and come home.
But, remember, time is of the essence. The Met bangwagon may be full come Sunday afternoon. Then again, it could be completely out of gas.
Bill Price is an associate sports editor with the Daily News.
Originally published on May 19, 2005
Wittigjr's Brother Dies After Bike Accident, Donates Organs
Ars link
Local paper link
Bike racer's death brings life to 5 organ recipients
By LAWRENCE SUSSMAN
lsussman@journalsentinel.com
Posted: May 13, 2005
Mequon - Matt Wittig didn't know four years ago that his signature on his driver's license would result in five strangers getting a chance to live longer.
He couldn't have known then, at the age of 16, that his death four years later would elevate him to hero status in the eyes of his family and of those strangers who needed organ transplants to have a chance at survival. The 5 strangers - 4 of them from southeast Wisconsin - received one or more of Wittig's organs in transplant surgeries that occurred Friday, hours after his death Thursday.
Wittig, 20, succumbed to head injuries he suffered May 7 while participating in a bicycle race in Muskego.
Wittig's mother, Susan, said the decision to be an organ donor had been made by her son 4 years ago.
"One of the reasons Matt wanted a driver's license was to say that he would be an organ donor," Susan Wittig said. "He was as excited to say that he would be a donor as he was to drive.
"That's the kind of kid he was," she added. "He had a kind, giving soul and heart."
Despite Matt Wittig's choice to be an organ donor, though, his family still faced an agonizing decision to keep him on a respirator and continue a steady supply of blood and oxygen to his organs, preserving them for transplant.
Cardiac cases account for the largest number of deaths in the United States. That prevents organ donations, because the organs are deprived of a continuous blood and oxygen supply, said Tim Olsen, community development coordinator for the Wisconsin Donor Network.
Brain injuries, though, normally allow major organs to keep receiving the required blood and oxygen, he said.
Susan Wittig said the Wittig family made the decision to keep Matt on the respirator.
"The reason that we chose to wait for brain death was so that it would allow the optimum number of organs to be saved, which we as a family felt was in Matt's heart," she said.
"Not only did he have a strong athletic heart," she added, "but his heart was truly the essence of who he is."
A passion for bicycling
A licensed U.S. Cycling Federation racer, Matt Wittig was injured during a Wisconsin Cup bicycle race in Muskego County Park on May 7. He was pulling away from the pack of riders when his right foot slipped out of a pedal, his right knee struck the handlebars and he was flung over the bars onto the pavement, said Hans Higdon, a fellow rider and event organizer.
Wittig suffered head injuries. He was wearing a helmet, but he likely was traveling 25 to 30 mph when the accident occurred, Higdon said.
Wittig, a sophomore at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, was involved in a similar serious bicycling accident last spring. He was an officer in the UW Cycling Club.
Even after the first accident, he continued racing this fall because "that was his passion," his mother said. "This was the light that kept him going."
His family supported Wittig's decision to get back into racing, she said. "We will never regret that he went back on his bike."
Matt Wittig was flown from the scene of the May 7 accident by Flight for Life helicopter to Froedtert Memorial Lutheran Hospital in Wauwatosa. He was declared brain dead Thursday morning and his organs were harvested Thursday night, said his brother, Mark Wittig.
On Friday, the organs were transplanted into four people from southeastern Wisconsin and one from Indiana.
The recipients include:
• A man in his mid-30s who received Wittig's heart.
• A woman in her late 40s who received his lungs.
• A woman in her mid-50s who received his liver.
• An Indiana man in his early 30s, who received one of Wittig's kidneys.
• A man in his late 20s who received Wittig's other kidney and his pancreas.
The enormity of Matt Wittig's gift and the even larger loss felt by his family wasn't lost on Olsen of the Wisconsin Donor Network.
"It's beneficial to the people who receive the organ transplants, but it's tragic when anyone dies young and suddenly like that," Olsen said.
Wittig's tissues also were harvested. Olsen said they could have included bone segments, veins, skin, his corneas and connective tissue, such as cartilage, ligaments and tendons.
"These tissues can be used to help up to 75 people," Olsen said. "They are considered life enhancing."
As of May 6, more than 95,000 people were waiting for organ transplants in the United States, according to the U.S. Organ Procurement and Transplantation Network.
In addition to his mother and father, John, Matt Wittig is survived by two older brothers, John Jr. and Mark, and his grandmothers, Mary Wittig and Virginia Lemberger.
Visitation will be from 4 to 7 p.m. Sunday at the Schmidt & Bartelt Funeral Home, 10280 N. Port Washington Road, Mequon.
A Mass of Christian Burial will be held at 10:30 a.m. Monday at St. James Catholic Church, 2700 W. Mequon Road, Mequon.
Burial will follow the services at Resurrection Cemetery and Mausoleum, 9400 W. Donges Bay Road, Mequon.
The family suggests memorials to the Lance Armstrong Foundation, P.O. Box 130819, Houston, TX 77219-0818.
Local paper link
Bike racer's death brings life to 5 organ recipients
By LAWRENCE SUSSMAN
lsussman@journalsentinel.com
Posted: May 13, 2005
Mequon - Matt Wittig didn't know four years ago that his signature on his driver's license would result in five strangers getting a chance to live longer.
He couldn't have known then, at the age of 16, that his death four years later would elevate him to hero status in the eyes of his family and of those strangers who needed organ transplants to have a chance at survival. The 5 strangers - 4 of them from southeast Wisconsin - received one or more of Wittig's organs in transplant surgeries that occurred Friday, hours after his death Thursday.
Wittig, 20, succumbed to head injuries he suffered May 7 while participating in a bicycle race in Muskego.
Wittig's mother, Susan, said the decision to be an organ donor had been made by her son 4 years ago.
"One of the reasons Matt wanted a driver's license was to say that he would be an organ donor," Susan Wittig said. "He was as excited to say that he would be a donor as he was to drive.
"That's the kind of kid he was," she added. "He had a kind, giving soul and heart."
Despite Matt Wittig's choice to be an organ donor, though, his family still faced an agonizing decision to keep him on a respirator and continue a steady supply of blood and oxygen to his organs, preserving them for transplant.
Cardiac cases account for the largest number of deaths in the United States. That prevents organ donations, because the organs are deprived of a continuous blood and oxygen supply, said Tim Olsen, community development coordinator for the Wisconsin Donor Network.
Brain injuries, though, normally allow major organs to keep receiving the required blood and oxygen, he said.
Susan Wittig said the Wittig family made the decision to keep Matt on the respirator.
"The reason that we chose to wait for brain death was so that it would allow the optimum number of organs to be saved, which we as a family felt was in Matt's heart," she said.
"Not only did he have a strong athletic heart," she added, "but his heart was truly the essence of who he is."
A passion for bicycling
A licensed U.S. Cycling Federation racer, Matt Wittig was injured during a Wisconsin Cup bicycle race in Muskego County Park on May 7. He was pulling away from the pack of riders when his right foot slipped out of a pedal, his right knee struck the handlebars and he was flung over the bars onto the pavement, said Hans Higdon, a fellow rider and event organizer.
Wittig suffered head injuries. He was wearing a helmet, but he likely was traveling 25 to 30 mph when the accident occurred, Higdon said.
Wittig, a sophomore at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, was involved in a similar serious bicycling accident last spring. He was an officer in the UW Cycling Club.
Even after the first accident, he continued racing this fall because "that was his passion," his mother said. "This was the light that kept him going."
His family supported Wittig's decision to get back into racing, she said. "We will never regret that he went back on his bike."
Matt Wittig was flown from the scene of the May 7 accident by Flight for Life helicopter to Froedtert Memorial Lutheran Hospital in Wauwatosa. He was declared brain dead Thursday morning and his organs were harvested Thursday night, said his brother, Mark Wittig.
On Friday, the organs were transplanted into four people from southeastern Wisconsin and one from Indiana.
The recipients include:
• A man in his mid-30s who received Wittig's heart.
• A woman in her late 40s who received his lungs.
• A woman in her mid-50s who received his liver.
• An Indiana man in his early 30s, who received one of Wittig's kidneys.
• A man in his late 20s who received Wittig's other kidney and his pancreas.
The enormity of Matt Wittig's gift and the even larger loss felt by his family wasn't lost on Olsen of the Wisconsin Donor Network.
"It's beneficial to the people who receive the organ transplants, but it's tragic when anyone dies young and suddenly like that," Olsen said.
Wittig's tissues also were harvested. Olsen said they could have included bone segments, veins, skin, his corneas and connective tissue, such as cartilage, ligaments and tendons.
"These tissues can be used to help up to 75 people," Olsen said. "They are considered life enhancing."
As of May 6, more than 95,000 people were waiting for organ transplants in the United States, according to the U.S. Organ Procurement and Transplantation Network.
In addition to his mother and father, John, Matt Wittig is survived by two older brothers, John Jr. and Mark, and his grandmothers, Mary Wittig and Virginia Lemberger.
Visitation will be from 4 to 7 p.m. Sunday at the Schmidt & Bartelt Funeral Home, 10280 N. Port Washington Road, Mequon.
A Mass of Christian Burial will be held at 10:30 a.m. Monday at St. James Catholic Church, 2700 W. Mequon Road, Mequon.
Burial will follow the services at Resurrection Cemetery and Mausoleum, 9400 W. Donges Bay Road, Mequon.
The family suggests memorials to the Lance Armstrong Foundation, P.O. Box 130819, Houston, TX 77219-0818.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Monday, May 16, 2005
Stabmaster J on "Livestrong" bracelets
OH holy fucking shit I hate this crap. There are all kind of douchebag ass fuckstains here at Campbell that wear this crap. Then people that arent in the Army ask me if I want them to wear one to support the troops or whatever. And I Say FUCK NO MOTHERFUCKER, I mean mom, because that shit is queer as a bitch. I mean shit who really gives a fuck about how many assbag causes you pretend to care about to feel good about yourself. And this other fuck in my squad wears like 2 or three of them when he goes to clubs to start conversations with bitches, and I'm like what are you a fucking queer? and he's like nah man it's cool and I'm like no it's queer cause you dont even know what them shits is for you just got ones that match your clothes. My roomate here wears a pink one because his mom has breast cancer or some stupid shit, whaa whaa boo hoo, I dont give a fuck what kind of shit that bitch is dying from you don't wear queer ass pink shit at work, especially a job where you are suppossed to be a cold blooded killer, it fucking says so in 670-1 "Badass infantry killing machines dont wear pink at work" or something like that. Or ever if you are gonna live in the same general space as me. Holy fucking shit. No one really cares so stop wearing that shit and let the dumbass disease ridden fuckbags die of cancer or war or whatever in peace without pretending you care so you can get some 'tang.
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