'Money’ in the Bank, Bob's Boozy Bevvies, Bucky Back in Boston

This was a fun project that was published as the winter waned and baseball began. For a month, I left old baseball cards in random places--Starbucks, the grocery store, the movie theater, the New York Public Library. The thinking was, maybe someone would pick one up, check it out, relive some old memories, and find themselves psyched for baseball to begin again, the way I am every winter. 

Bringing Bucky Back to Boston, the title a nod to me leaving a Bucky Effing Dent card at a Starbucks in Concord, Massachusetts, ran in a sports literary journal called Sport Literate. 

It says, "It was fun to see Expos, guys with mustaches and shaggy hair, players with a wad of tobacco in their cheek, and players named Dick."

Check it out, it's a fun read. 

Book About Nursing Injured Owl is a Hoot

I reviewed a book I did not think I'd connect with, but ended up thoroughly enjoying. It is called Alfie & Me and it's about an ecologist out on Long Island who ends up with a badly injured baby squirrel. Carl Safina nurses the squirrel, and eventually lets "Alfie" out to scope out his back yard. 
As Alfie gets healthier, she gets more independent, but still seeks Safina out for a frozen mouse, and the two call each other in the back yard. 
Alfie eventually finds a mate, lays some eggs, and welcomes a few owlets into the world. 
The review, in the East Hampton Star, is entitled "Owl in the Family" and you can read it here. 
Safina writes, "Whenever I saw or even thought of Alfie, I felt something between us that united us. We did, after all, interact. We had a certain mutual understanding. To create a metaphor from physics, we had developed a covalent bond. And that was real enough to hold us."

Crazy Legs, Solid Stomach

I got to do my second story for the Boston Globe in recent months, on a long-running competitive eater known as Crazy Legs Conti. Conti has been on the pro eating circuit for 22 years, an extraordinary run. 

The piece came to be when the Malones were in the Boston area over Christmas. We went to a Christmas Eve party at my wife's friend's place, and got to talking with a friend of Crazy Legs, who is from the suburb of Belmont, as is my wife.  

I'd profiled Crazy Legs a long, long time ago--20 years ago, in fact--for the now defunct New York Sports Express. The documentary Crazy Legs Conti: Zen and the Art of Competitive Eating had just come out. I figured I'd check in with Conti again, and see if there was a new story to tell. 

There was! 

He's gotten a real kick out of his time on stage, and hopes to stick around a bit longer. He told me, “I try to be an ambassador to the sport and welcome the rookies, but also celebrate the fact that I’ve been able to do this for 22 years, and really enjoy the travel, the food, the people, and the storytelling.”

Review: Nick McDonell's Moneyed Memoir

 I reviewed the book Quiet Street: On American Privilege, by Nick McDonell, in the new issue of the East Hampton Star. As the book's subhead suggests, McDonell was born into privilege--his father is the magazine and publishing titan Terry McDonell. He writes of growing up in Manhattan, going to private school, attending Harvard and Oxford, and having a very successful writing career develop thereafter. 

To be fair, McDonell is as talented as he is privileged. His first novel, Twelve, came out when he was all of 18. 

His latest book's title comes from a nickname for 124th Street in Harlem dating back to his time at the Buckley School in Manhattan. A bus would transport the Buckley boys down 124th Street, en route to the ball fields on Randalls Island. Years before, a student yelled a racial slur out the window, and Nick and his fellow students were then required to remain silent for as long as the bus drove down 124th Street.     

Just 117 pages, Quiet Street is a fast read. McDonell writes deftly, but shares a few too many examples of his considerable privilege, while a solution or two regarding wealth inequality in NYC and beyond might've done us a bit more good.