April 28, 2011
An almost unbelievable story of grace
This story brought me to tears - in the middle of my school computer lab.
April 19, 2011
For a friend....and for those who knew him.
One year ago today, I was standing in the living room of a friend's house when my phone rang. I answered it in my typical "Hey, what's happenin?" excitable manner only to find the person on the other end was not in good spirits. She broke the news to me that our friend, Matt King, had been killed in a bicycle accident. I just remember being stunned.
Over the next hour or two, I made several difficult phone calls. I called his former house church leader - a man he was very close to - and I called several other people that were closer to him than I was. The conversations were awful, and over the next few days I just felt numb. You see, Matt was a great man. He had a huge smile - and a generous heart. He was a gifted mathematician and photographer. He was beastly strong, but so, so kind. My last facebook communication with him was to ask him if he could pick a book up for Juli at one of the UVA libraries. I told him that it wasn't a rush. His response: "No problem. Can I give it to you at practice tonight?" He had interrupted his plans that day to make a special run to a library on the other side of campus from his building so that he could help me out in a pinch. That was just the way he was. And the "practice" he was referring to in his response to me was our church choir practice - the last meaningful thing I got to do with Matt. I remember how seriously he took it, and how awesome his voice was. After a somber, but beautiful, Good Friday service, we sang some really great songs together on Resurrection Sunday. Lots of clapping and exchanged smiles and eye contact - the kind of intimacy that people that sing together seem to enjoy (I am no expert, but I really loved this part of the experience). Matt was feeling it - and it was fun to be a part of the moment with him.
But two weeks later he was gone. I was only really starting to get to know him during our brief time in Charlottesville, but his passing really impacted me. We had a service for him at AllSouls, the church we went to, and the building was filled to the brim - standing-room only. In the eight months that he was in Charlottesville, he had managed to make a huge impact on a large swath of people including folks from his math department at UVA, people from CrossFit (the gym he worked out at), friends from Eunoia (a college ministry that he participated in), and people from The Haven, a homeless shelter where he served every Monday morning. As it happens, Matt was leaving The Haven when he was hit on his bike and killed. The last thing he did on Earth was something that he was so good at - serving people out of love. Indeed, Matt's impact on Charlottesville was huge.
Over the next weeks and months I really struggled with what to do with his death. I was in charge of a service project on May 1st, and about a week prior I was looking at my volunteer list only to find his name on the list of people who were planning to support me and our community. I thought "Of course Matt King would volunteer for this. Of course!" I thought about him a lot the day of the project, and I wondered why someone that was so good for the world had to be taken. In fact, one year later I still struggle with his death. At my public health school we talk about bicycle accidents frequently because these are the types of things that we hope to prevent. We talk about safety and laws and policy. But for me, these things have a human face. I always think of Matt.
Its been a year and I miss him and still don't quite know what to make of his passing. But the words of a good friend remind me that people live on through the stories we tell. One year later, I continue to tell stories of Matt - like the time he stopped what he was doing to help me out. Like the fact that he is the only person I know that has an undefeated record against me in ping-pong (1-0). Like the time he signed up to help remodel the home of an elderly woman in our community. Like the time he....well, you all have your own stories. I hope those of you that knew him will continue to tell these stories of Matt so that his memory lives on.
Looking forward to our re-match, brother. Much love.
Over the next hour or two, I made several difficult phone calls. I called his former house church leader - a man he was very close to - and I called several other people that were closer to him than I was. The conversations were awful, and over the next few days I just felt numb. You see, Matt was a great man. He had a huge smile - and a generous heart. He was a gifted mathematician and photographer. He was beastly strong, but so, so kind. My last facebook communication with him was to ask him if he could pick a book up for Juli at one of the UVA libraries. I told him that it wasn't a rush. His response: "No problem. Can I give it to you at practice tonight?" He had interrupted his plans that day to make a special run to a library on the other side of campus from his building so that he could help me out in a pinch. That was just the way he was. And the "practice" he was referring to in his response to me was our church choir practice - the last meaningful thing I got to do with Matt. I remember how seriously he took it, and how awesome his voice was. After a somber, but beautiful, Good Friday service, we sang some really great songs together on Resurrection Sunday. Lots of clapping and exchanged smiles and eye contact - the kind of intimacy that people that sing together seem to enjoy (I am no expert, but I really loved this part of the experience). Matt was feeling it - and it was fun to be a part of the moment with him.
But two weeks later he was gone. I was only really starting to get to know him during our brief time in Charlottesville, but his passing really impacted me. We had a service for him at AllSouls, the church we went to, and the building was filled to the brim - standing-room only. In the eight months that he was in Charlottesville, he had managed to make a huge impact on a large swath of people including folks from his math department at UVA, people from CrossFit (the gym he worked out at), friends from Eunoia (a college ministry that he participated in), and people from The Haven, a homeless shelter where he served every Monday morning. As it happens, Matt was leaving The Haven when he was hit on his bike and killed. The last thing he did on Earth was something that he was so good at - serving people out of love. Indeed, Matt's impact on Charlottesville was huge.
Over the next weeks and months I really struggled with what to do with his death. I was in charge of a service project on May 1st, and about a week prior I was looking at my volunteer list only to find his name on the list of people who were planning to support me and our community. I thought "Of course Matt King would volunteer for this. Of course!" I thought about him a lot the day of the project, and I wondered why someone that was so good for the world had to be taken. In fact, one year later I still struggle with his death. At my public health school we talk about bicycle accidents frequently because these are the types of things that we hope to prevent. We talk about safety and laws and policy. But for me, these things have a human face. I always think of Matt.
Its been a year and I miss him and still don't quite know what to make of his passing. But the words of a good friend remind me that people live on through the stories we tell. One year later, I continue to tell stories of Matt - like the time he stopped what he was doing to help me out. Like the fact that he is the only person I know that has an undefeated record against me in ping-pong (1-0). Like the time he signed up to help remodel the home of an elderly woman in our community. Like the time he....well, you all have your own stories. I hope those of you that knew him will continue to tell these stories of Matt so that his memory lives on.
Looking forward to our re-match, brother. Much love.
April 9, 2011
Another one bites the dust
Today, Manny Ramirez announced that he was retiring as a Major League Baseball player. Two years ago, this would have drawn front-page headlines. Ramirez was (and still is, for that matter) considered one of the greatest right-handed hitters in the history of baseball. He hit 555 home runs - 14th all-time, just behind Reggie Jackson and just ahead of Mike Schmidt - both hall-of-famers. He drove in 1831 runs - 18th all-time, just behind Dave Winfield and just ahead of Al Simmons - both hall-of-famers. His on-base-percentage was .411, good for 16th all-time. He batted .312 (62nd all-time) and his OPS (on base + slugging) is .996, which ranks at #9 on the all-time list. This guy was good.
He was a clown, but has been lauded by his teammates as being a hard worker that put in extra hours in the batting cage. And while he excelled at the plate, he became famous for his limited interest in playing the field or in running out ground balls. The expression became "Oh that's just Manny being Manny."
Well now Manny has taken it too far. Twice now he has tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs. Twice! Manny just doesn't seem to care. This time around, instead of taking his 100 game punishment (he had previously been suspended for 50 games) he has decided to walk away from the game. I brought up Al Simmons in the above paragraph above, so I think its only fitting to highlight the quote that he is known for is this one: "Baseball doesn't owe me a thing. It was wonderful to me, and I owe everything I've got to the game." Today, after announcing his retirement, all Manny could talk about was the trip to Spain that he was planning to take. Apparently Manny didn't get the same memo that Simmons received. Its actually not all about you - its about the game....and integrity.
For someone, like myself, that cares so much about the history of the game this news is particularly devastating. Another person whose name is all over the record books will now have the famous asterisk next to all of the places where his name inks the page. And another part of the kid in me - the one that grew up adoring these players and emulating them in my backyard - is crushed again and left to wonder: who is next?
Farewell Manny. Thanks for some of the memories -at least the ones that came honestly. You can have the rest.
He was a clown, but has been lauded by his teammates as being a hard worker that put in extra hours in the batting cage. And while he excelled at the plate, he became famous for his limited interest in playing the field or in running out ground balls. The expression became "Oh that's just Manny being Manny."
Well now Manny has taken it too far. Twice now he has tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs. Twice! Manny just doesn't seem to care. This time around, instead of taking his 100 game punishment (he had previously been suspended for 50 games) he has decided to walk away from the game. I brought up Al Simmons in the above paragraph above, so I think its only fitting to highlight the quote that he is known for is this one: "Baseball doesn't owe me a thing. It was wonderful to me, and I owe everything I've got to the game." Today, after announcing his retirement, all Manny could talk about was the trip to Spain that he was planning to take. Apparently Manny didn't get the same memo that Simmons received. Its actually not all about you - its about the game....and integrity.
For someone, like myself, that cares so much about the history of the game this news is particularly devastating. Another person whose name is all over the record books will now have the famous asterisk next to all of the places where his name inks the page. And another part of the kid in me - the one that grew up adoring these players and emulating them in my backyard - is crushed again and left to wonder: who is next?
Farewell Manny. Thanks for some of the memories -at least the ones that came honestly. You can have the rest.
March 30, 2011
The Bluebloods of Hoops
Ridiculous college basketball stat for the day:
UCLA, Kentucky, Kansas, Duke, UNC, Indiana (historically considered the best/most winning college hoops programs). At least one of these six of these teams has been in ALL of the Final Fours since 1986. It is unbelievable. As a Clemson fan, this is making me sick. Excuse me - I have to go throw up now.
UCLA, Kentucky, Kansas, Duke, UNC, Indiana (historically considered the best/most winning college hoops programs). At least one of these six of these teams has been in ALL of the Final Fours since 1986. It is unbelievable. As a Clemson fan, this is making me sick. Excuse me - I have to go throw up now.
March 16, 2011
First-Rites by Nathan Elmore
Recently, I was captured by a piece written by Nathan Elmore, a poet at heart, and a gifted writer. Nathan is a good friend and someone that I cherish. Often times when I read his writing, I can hear his voice in my head. He has the kind of voice that you wish was always acting as the narrator of your life: "Corey is sitting in the computer lab. He is glancing out the window at the bees buzzing their disapproval." Or something like this. He is like Morgan Freeman in this way. You know what I am talking about. But his writing is even better; it is like poetry. He has a way of capturing moments, both mundane and grand, and breathing into these moments this wonderful, nuanced life through his prose. I invite you to read his reflections and musings on life, fatherhood, and the importance of baseball in a family that treasures the stories of life here. You can also follow Nathan at www.nathanfelmore.com. You will be better for welcoming his voice into your life.
March 6, 2011
Be Nice.....no, seriously. BNice and Brownell: Clemson hoops 2010-2011
I can't resist. I have to write about this team. I have been a Clemson basketball fanatic since I started school there in 1995. Over the years there have been a lot of ups and even more downs. But through it all I have remained a fan - albeit sometimes a pessimistic (some might say realistic) fan.
This year I brought my full arsenal of pessimism. On December 2, 2010, I sent the following comment to some close friends that I "talk" Clemson sports with regularly: "I'll just go ahead and say it. The Shyatt Era: Part Deux has begun." As some background information, the Shyatt Era was just brutal to observe. From 1998 to 2003, Larry Shyatt successfully took a program that had been on the rise and promptly drove Clemson basketball into the ground (see 10-20 record of 1999-2000 as evidence). The previous coach, Rick Barnes had been wildly popular with students and had taken us to the height of our program. By January 21, 1997 (I was a sophomore in college), Clemson had been ranked as high as #2 - just behind Kansas. Here is a link to a week by week look at the AP Top 25 polls for that year. Just click on the "Start Motion" icon. Watching this was like reliving the highs and lows of what that season was like. It was epic. The next year, Rick Barnes left (and I wept) for Texas and the new coach, former Barnes assistant Larry Shyatt, proved he was not meant to be a head coach in the ACC. It has taken years for the basketball program to recover. But I digress...back to my point about this new era of Clemson hoops, which I had anointed as the new Shyatt era.
Apparently, I was wrong. While this year has definitely had its abundant share of downs, there have been a surprising number of ups for this team. Amidst a change of coaching staffs, implementation of new offensive and defensive schema, the loss of a first-round draft pick, the defection of a former Top 30 recruit, and a slew of personality problems, a collection of guys who seemed to hate playing basketball together at the beginning of the season have rallied around each other to win twenty games, including a 9-7 conference record. In fact, the Tigers earned a first-round bye in next weeks ACC tournament. From what we saw at the beginning of the year, this outcome is almost unbelievable.
I am pretty sure that I was there when things started to come together. On January 18th I had the privilege to watch Clemson play UNC in the "Dean Dome". I had hoped that it would be the end of the futility that comes with owning the worst losing streak (0-54 at UNC) between two opponents in the history of college basketball. Although the streak would continue something more important happened. Brian Narcisse had the goggles knocked, literally, off of his head. That is it. Up to that point, I had criticized Narcisse pretty much every time he stepped on the floor. He was an out-of-control type player that had seen only chump minutes in his prior years with the team. But something happened to him when those nerdy goggles (a la Horace Grant) got knocked to the floor of the Dean Smith Center. And when he put those goggles back he was a new man. Suddenly I didn't cringe when he stepped on the floor. Suddenly he could make shots. Suddenly he didn't look like he thought he was playing on an eight foot goal. Last night, his dunk on Virginia Tech was #4 on SportsCenter's Top 10 plays list. And the rest of the team seems to have fed off of his energy. I am still shocked at his transformation.
But it is not just the players that are responsible for this. Particularly in college sports, the coach makes a huge difference. A good coach can mean the difference between mediocrity and success - even with, or despite, the quality of the players. A friend recently told me that he thinks Brad Brownell should be the ACC coach-of-the-year (COY). I must admit that, at first, I was skeptical. I still question some of the game management strategies that Brownell employs, but I am coming around to the idea that he deserves some recognition. He has led this team with only nine scholarship players - none of whom will likely make an NBA roster. I mention this because a recent article in a local newspaper here in the Triangle was touting Roy Williams as the obvious choice for COY. One of the arguments made was that you should not punish a coach for having great players. The author asked why Williams should be punished just because his roster is loaded with McDonald's All-Americans. I laughed. And then I thought that perhaps a more appropriate question is why a coach should not be rewarded for doing a lot with less talent. Is it better to win 24 games with a starting lineup that is made ENTIRELY of McDonald's All-Americans or to win 20 games with a starting lineup that is comprised of exactly ZERO McDonald's All-Americans? Unless you live in Chapel Hill, this answer should be obvious. Sadly, Williams will likely win the award. Maybe it will be Leonard Hamilton of Florida State. It will not be Brownell, though. Sigh.
The season is not over. Clemson still needs to win a game or two in the ACC tournament to secure a bid to the big dance. Yet just the fact that they are in that conversation is nothing short of miraculous. So a note to my beloved Clemson Tigers men's basketball team of 2010-2011: I am proud of you. No matter what happens in the next week, you have earned my respect. You have proven me wrong. And I have never been so happy to admit that I was mistaken when I predicted a 5-11 finish for you. Now go out there and prove me wrong a few more times.
This year I brought my full arsenal of pessimism. On December 2, 2010, I sent the following comment to some close friends that I "talk" Clemson sports with regularly: "I'll just go ahead and say it. The Shyatt Era: Part Deux has begun." As some background information, the Shyatt Era was just brutal to observe. From 1998 to 2003, Larry Shyatt successfully took a program that had been on the rise and promptly drove Clemson basketball into the ground (see 10-20 record of 1999-2000 as evidence). The previous coach, Rick Barnes had been wildly popular with students and had taken us to the height of our program. By January 21, 1997 (I was a sophomore in college), Clemson had been ranked as high as #2 - just behind Kansas. Here is a link to a week by week look at the AP Top 25 polls for that year. Just click on the "Start Motion" icon. Watching this was like reliving the highs and lows of what that season was like. It was epic. The next year, Rick Barnes left (and I wept) for Texas and the new coach, former Barnes assistant Larry Shyatt, proved he was not meant to be a head coach in the ACC. It has taken years for the basketball program to recover. But I digress...back to my point about this new era of Clemson hoops, which I had anointed as the new Shyatt era.
Apparently, I was wrong. While this year has definitely had its abundant share of downs, there have been a surprising number of ups for this team. Amidst a change of coaching staffs, implementation of new offensive and defensive schema, the loss of a first-round draft pick, the defection of a former Top 30 recruit, and a slew of personality problems, a collection of guys who seemed to hate playing basketball together at the beginning of the season have rallied around each other to win twenty games, including a 9-7 conference record. In fact, the Tigers earned a first-round bye in next weeks ACC tournament. From what we saw at the beginning of the year, this outcome is almost unbelievable.
I am pretty sure that I was there when things started to come together. On January 18th I had the privilege to watch Clemson play UNC in the "Dean Dome". I had hoped that it would be the end of the futility that comes with owning the worst losing streak (0-54 at UNC) between two opponents in the history of college basketball. Although the streak would continue something more important happened. Brian Narcisse had the goggles knocked, literally, off of his head. That is it. Up to that point, I had criticized Narcisse pretty much every time he stepped on the floor. He was an out-of-control type player that had seen only chump minutes in his prior years with the team. But something happened to him when those nerdy goggles (a la Horace Grant) got knocked to the floor of the Dean Smith Center. And when he put those goggles back he was a new man. Suddenly I didn't cringe when he stepped on the floor. Suddenly he could make shots. Suddenly he didn't look like he thought he was playing on an eight foot goal. Last night, his dunk on Virginia Tech was #4 on SportsCenter's Top 10 plays list. And the rest of the team seems to have fed off of his energy. I am still shocked at his transformation.
But it is not just the players that are responsible for this. Particularly in college sports, the coach makes a huge difference. A good coach can mean the difference between mediocrity and success - even with, or despite, the quality of the players. A friend recently told me that he thinks Brad Brownell should be the ACC coach-of-the-year (COY). I must admit that, at first, I was skeptical. I still question some of the game management strategies that Brownell employs, but I am coming around to the idea that he deserves some recognition. He has led this team with only nine scholarship players - none of whom will likely make an NBA roster. I mention this because a recent article in a local newspaper here in the Triangle was touting Roy Williams as the obvious choice for COY. One of the arguments made was that you should not punish a coach for having great players. The author asked why Williams should be punished just because his roster is loaded with McDonald's All-Americans. I laughed. And then I thought that perhaps a more appropriate question is why a coach should not be rewarded for doing a lot with less talent. Is it better to win 24 games with a starting lineup that is made ENTIRELY of McDonald's All-Americans or to win 20 games with a starting lineup that is comprised of exactly ZERO McDonald's All-Americans? Unless you live in Chapel Hill, this answer should be obvious. Sadly, Williams will likely win the award. Maybe it will be Leonard Hamilton of Florida State. It will not be Brownell, though. Sigh.
The season is not over. Clemson still needs to win a game or two in the ACC tournament to secure a bid to the big dance. Yet just the fact that they are in that conversation is nothing short of miraculous. So a note to my beloved Clemson Tigers men's basketball team of 2010-2011: I am proud of you. No matter what happens in the next week, you have earned my respect. You have proven me wrong. And I have never been so happy to admit that I was mistaken when I predicted a 5-11 finish for you. Now go out there and prove me wrong a few more times.
February 26, 2011
The Celebrant: A Book Review
The Celebrant by Eric Rolfe Greenberg: A Book Review
About a month ago, I realized the inordinate amount of time that I spend reading about sports – and particularly baseball history – and I decided to do something about it. One of the first things I did was look up John Herd Thompson, a professor and historian at Duke University, who teaches "Baseball in Global Perspective" a course that examines the history of baseball as it has affected the development of the countries that play this wonderful game. Professor Thompson is a wonderful and kind man, who graciously met with me to discuss some of our mutual passion for baseball. He has a huge library of books, which makes his office a very comfortable and familiar place. We had an invigorating conversation about baseball and he made quite a few recommendations of resources and books I should read that would pique my interest. Before I left, he told me, "You caught me at a good time in my career – when I am trying to purge part of my massive collection of books." One of the first books he gave me was The Celebrant, by Eric Rolfe Greenberg. He urged me to read this book first. It would get me started.
I must confess that The Celebrant is the first novel I have read in far too long. But there is nothing quite like a really good novel, right? (I hope at least some of you are nodding your heads right now.) This one pulled me in from the Historical Note section, which precedes Chapter 1. The book is about Christy Mathewson, one of the great pitchers of the major leagues. Mathewson won two-thirds of his games and is third on the all-time wins list with 373. His ERA over his career was an astounding 2.13, good for fifth best all time. He won 30 games four times and twenty games thirteen times. He was also considered to be a gentleman of the game – something unique in a time in baseball that is often clouded by scandal and the darker side of human nature. Notably he was part of the "first five" members of Baseball’s Hall of Fame. The other members of the class included Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Walter Johnson, and Honus Wagner. Mathewson was a gem. He died of tuberculosis, which he had contracted while serving in World War I, in 1925 at the age of 45.
But The Celebrant is not just about Christy Mathewson. It is also about the impact of gambling and addiction on the national pastime. It is a novel about celebrity, just as much as it is about the celebrities (i.e. Mathewson, Wagner, Tris Speaker, John McGraw). It is a novel about a Jewish immigrant family with a jewelry business that thrives concurrently with the rise of professional baseball as a respectable vocation. It is a novel that reveals the complexities of family and wonders aloud what fame and fortune do to people. Mostly it is a story of relationships.
My two favorite relationships that deepen the book are that between Christy Mathewson and Yakov Kapinski and the relationship between Yakov and his brother Eli. Yakov is an artist and admirer of baseball and Mathewson in particular. In this strangely tender relationship I think we can all relate. Most sports lovers have players that they grew up admiring from afar. And the idea of interacting with them was something we agonized over. Yet equally compelling is the relationship of Yakov and his older brother, Eli Kapinski. What happens between them tests the bonds of family, and can make us all ponder what we would do for those that we love. Their relationship reveals the best, and the worst, of human character.
There are many great moments in this novel, but my favorite interaction between Mathewson and Yakov happens shortly after Mathewson has received a ring from Yakov commemorating a particular occasion of pitching brilliance. Yakov has never met Mathewson but merely admired his work from afar and sent Mathewson a ring he has designed as a gift. They made eye contact at a victory celebration at the Erlanger Theatre:
"Mathewson smiled at me, nodded, and watched as I thought what to do. Certainly I owed him a salute…I took my hands from the railing and began to applaud very quietly; my homage, I hoped, would be a private one. He bowed slightly in acknowledgment, and when he straightened I returned his smile."
Later we learn that Mathewson was actually an admirer of Yakov’s work as an artist and jeweler and keeps his drawings on display in his home; it is a mutual respect between two people at the top of their crafts. In this way, they are the celebrants of each other’s work.
This novel is certainly worth the read. The Celebrant is 272 pages of wonderful prose centered on baseball and relationships: two of my favorite things. This book transcends a book just about sport and pulls you back in history to a much different, yet similar, time. Hasn’t the world always been about relationships? Perhaps it is for another time, but this book has made me ponder what it means to celebrate others that we are in relationship with in our lives. What does it mean to be "the celebrant" of someone else’s work and achievements? It is very counter-cultural, right?
About a month ago, I realized the inordinate amount of time that I spend reading about sports – and particularly baseball history – and I decided to do something about it. One of the first things I did was look up John Herd Thompson, a professor and historian at Duke University, who teaches "Baseball in Global Perspective" a course that examines the history of baseball as it has affected the development of the countries that play this wonderful game. Professor Thompson is a wonderful and kind man, who graciously met with me to discuss some of our mutual passion for baseball. He has a huge library of books, which makes his office a very comfortable and familiar place. We had an invigorating conversation about baseball and he made quite a few recommendations of resources and books I should read that would pique my interest. Before I left, he told me, "You caught me at a good time in my career – when I am trying to purge part of my massive collection of books." One of the first books he gave me was The Celebrant, by Eric Rolfe Greenberg. He urged me to read this book first. It would get me started.
I must confess that The Celebrant is the first novel I have read in far too long. But there is nothing quite like a really good novel, right? (I hope at least some of you are nodding your heads right now.) This one pulled me in from the Historical Note section, which precedes Chapter 1. The book is about Christy Mathewson, one of the great pitchers of the major leagues. Mathewson won two-thirds of his games and is third on the all-time wins list with 373. His ERA over his career was an astounding 2.13, good for fifth best all time. He won 30 games four times and twenty games thirteen times. He was also considered to be a gentleman of the game – something unique in a time in baseball that is often clouded by scandal and the darker side of human nature. Notably he was part of the "first five" members of Baseball’s Hall of Fame. The other members of the class included Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Walter Johnson, and Honus Wagner. Mathewson was a gem. He died of tuberculosis, which he had contracted while serving in World War I, in 1925 at the age of 45.
But The Celebrant is not just about Christy Mathewson. It is also about the impact of gambling and addiction on the national pastime. It is a novel about celebrity, just as much as it is about the celebrities (i.e. Mathewson, Wagner, Tris Speaker, John McGraw). It is a novel about a Jewish immigrant family with a jewelry business that thrives concurrently with the rise of professional baseball as a respectable vocation. It is a novel that reveals the complexities of family and wonders aloud what fame and fortune do to people. Mostly it is a story of relationships.
My two favorite relationships that deepen the book are that between Christy Mathewson and Yakov Kapinski and the relationship between Yakov and his brother Eli. Yakov is an artist and admirer of baseball and Mathewson in particular. In this strangely tender relationship I think we can all relate. Most sports lovers have players that they grew up admiring from afar. And the idea of interacting with them was something we agonized over. Yet equally compelling is the relationship of Yakov and his older brother, Eli Kapinski. What happens between them tests the bonds of family, and can make us all ponder what we would do for those that we love. Their relationship reveals the best, and the worst, of human character.
There are many great moments in this novel, but my favorite interaction between Mathewson and Yakov happens shortly after Mathewson has received a ring from Yakov commemorating a particular occasion of pitching brilliance. Yakov has never met Mathewson but merely admired his work from afar and sent Mathewson a ring he has designed as a gift. They made eye contact at a victory celebration at the Erlanger Theatre:
"Mathewson smiled at me, nodded, and watched as I thought what to do. Certainly I owed him a salute…I took my hands from the railing and began to applaud very quietly; my homage, I hoped, would be a private one. He bowed slightly in acknowledgment, and when he straightened I returned his smile."
Later we learn that Mathewson was actually an admirer of Yakov’s work as an artist and jeweler and keeps his drawings on display in his home; it is a mutual respect between two people at the top of their crafts. In this way, they are the celebrants of each other’s work.
This novel is certainly worth the read. The Celebrant is 272 pages of wonderful prose centered on baseball and relationships: two of my favorite things. This book transcends a book just about sport and pulls you back in history to a much different, yet similar, time. Hasn’t the world always been about relationships? Perhaps it is for another time, but this book has made me ponder what it means to celebrate others that we are in relationship with in our lives. What does it mean to be "the celebrant" of someone else’s work and achievements? It is very counter-cultural, right?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)