Baseball Quiz: 1) Name the top five all time in saves. [Hint:
Three pitched last season.] 2) Among modern-day pitchers, post-
1920, who has the most career losses? Answers below.
Shout out to LT! [My fiancé.]
Kiev…Wednesday
OK, sports fans….I need to get outside and explore the city some
more but here are some random, haphazard musings on my trip
to Ukraine.
For starters, I left from Newark Airport, Saturday, and caught
some last NCAA tournament action in a bar there, explaining to
an Irish lad why it’s such a big deal here in the States. Then it
was a long 13 ½ hours before arriving in Kiev as I had to change
planes in Paris and had a bit of a layover. All in all, though, at
least everything was on time but boy do I hate Charles de Gaulle
Airport…easily the world’s worst because it’s so confusing
trying to maneuver around the freakin’ place.
I panicked when I got to Kiev because it took forever to get
through passport control (as it did in Paris) since I happened to
pick the line with the lone hard-ass gatekeeper. Then I get up to
him and it turns out I hadn’t filled out my form correctly. Doh!
Alas, the luggage was on my Ukraine International flight and I
didn’t lose it, a rarity for me these days. [Flying on this airline,
by the way, is not exactly going in style. It’s over 3 hours from
Paris and our meal consisted of a disgusting pastry filled with
egg and ruffage. The plane was also very old and as I was sitting
over the wing, I was plotting how I’d latch onto a piece of it as
the plane broke apart…the one with the beacon light. But the
crew was nice.]
With the 7 hour time difference, I didn’t check in to my gorgeous
hotel, the Premier Palace, until about 5:00 pm Sunday and much
to my delight immediately discovered the high-speed Internet in
the room was free due to a promotion. Despite all the advances
in technology these days, the only way to ensure good Net access
in much of Europe is to stay at a super place.
The guide book said the Premier Palace also had the best
restaurant in town so I had dinner there that evening. I mean to
tell you I had the best cream of mushroom soup I ever had and
the veal dish and dessert were outstanding…the Stella Artois
beer, though, was so-so. [More on this later.]
But the highlight was being seated next to a mob family
gathering….mob as in mafia. In fact everyone in this hotel looks
like they’re in the mob. It is clearly a hot spot for these folk,
at least from the crowd assembled in the lobby and the main bar.
Plus there are, shall we say, some rather interesting women.
Yes, it’s true, half of the women here under 30 could easily pass
for a contestant in the Miss Universe pageant.
Part of the reason for what I perceive to be quite a bit of action in
the hotel itself is the casino here, but I’ll never see the inside of
it. You enter through the bar but you have to register with $500
to get in. Of course you could break even and get your money
back, but that’s the minimum you can put at risk, in other words.
$25 is also the minimum bet, which I wouldn’t have had a
problem with if I just wanted to play a few hands of blackjack
and limit my losses to, say, $200….anyway, you get the picture.
But by sitting at the bar you get to see the crowd go in and out
and it’s enlightening.
My first night I was getting on the elevator to go to my room and
this statuesque brunette got on with a short Asian man. A-ha, I
thought. You can’t fool me…no sirree…I wasn’t born yesterday.
Except the next morning I noticed a sign I had missed before.
“Malaysian Embassy rooms 654, 655, 656.”
Hmmm, maybe I was jumping to conclusions.
Now where was I? Oh yeah, dinner on Sunday. So I’m seated
next to this mob gathering…the younger kid who was clearly the
leader had on the telltale black shirt with black slacks and
everyone else, young and old, was fawning all over him. This
wasn’t just a birthday party. [I was looking kind of spiffy myself
in my white button down and blazer, incidentally.]
From my seat I could look outside onto the city…a very nice
view…but the mob table couldn’t see what I could. So I’m
staring out the window, nursing my Stella (Artois), when
suddenly these fireworks are going off at the distant
Independence Square (Revolutionary Square…the one that
became familiar on TV in 2004). It was super cool and as the
little girls (age 4 or 5) from the mob event were running around
the place (and not being corrected), I got their attention and said
“Look! Look outside!”
It was then I realized we had a huge language gap. There I was,
pointing to the window, and they refused to turn around. They
just stared at me…like I was nuts.
“Look! Look!”
Again, none of them turned around and for the rest of the
evening I was ridiculed by a bunch of five-year-olds….with mob
connections.
And then…..two young women walked in, both wearing sheer,
revealing tops. I glanced at Oksana, my waitress, and we shared
a look of disbelief, while the mob guys started ordering drinks
for them faster than you can say Gotti.
So that was night one in Ukraine.
Except one thing….the restaurant had live entertainment and this
guy was playing upscale lounge-lizard type music that was really
quite good. But the music reminded me of Los Angeles
International and that funky building that looks like something
out of the “Jetsons” with the restaurant up top…a great spot if
you ever have a lengthy layover, by the way. It plays lounge-
lizard music too. [Then again I haven’t been there in ten years so
who knows what’s going on there these days.]
Day two…tried to find the Russia Art Museum which I knew
was a few blocks from the hotel but the bellmen were of zero
help. So I walked around and around Shevchenko (the poet)
Park, asking one or two folks who didn’t understand what I was
looking for when out of nowhere I stumbled on the place. Sure
didn’t have an entrance that said ‘art museum,’ but it was a lucky
guess on my part. Unfortunately, the museum sucked. Awful
lighting and the place needs a lot of work.
But I did go to St. Vladimir’s Cathedral and it was way cool, if
you’re into that kind of thing. I lit a candle and prayed my stocks
would go up……………………well, that and for world peace…
Then I went to the Chernobyl Museum. I would later learn
virtually every place I went to had no English subtitles like most
international museums do these days, but the pictures of the
Chernobyl aftermath were powerful. Chernobyl is about 80 km
from Kiev and as we’re approaching the 20th anniversary this
April, I will be doing a full piece on it in a week or so. I had the
option of taking a tour there, at least to where you’re allowed to
go, but it would have taken up a big chunk of one day and going
to the museum did the trick.
I did get in a bit of trouble here, though, because at all the
televisions I was pushing buttons to see if there were tapes I
could watch and nothing upsets the old ladies guarding the rooms
than some American messing where he shouldn’t be. At least I
wasn’t slapped around and placed in confinement.
You know what’s funny, though? The museum costs $1. In fact
all the museums I went to were dirt cheap. The art museum was
just a $1 as well. And a large beer is $3 most places…a quality
buy in today’s overpriced world.
After Chernobyl I sought out a restaurant I had read about,
Kozak Mamay, and was quite pleased with myself when I found
the spot on my own…which I was learning was the better way to
do things anyway. The staff is dressed in Cossack uniforms and
the place has a lot of atmosphere.
And man was the food delicious. I had a giant bowl of roasted
mushrooms with melted cheese that was to die for…plus great
veal, dessert, and Stella Artois.
Now here’s the deal on the beer. I had read before I got here that
Ukrainian beer isn’t that great. In fact I can’t remember what the
two main brands are and the bottom line is none of the places
I’ve been to serve it.
Stella Artois is a Belgian brew and they have heavily advertised
everywhere you look. It’s OK, though I wouldn’t think of
getting it back in the States. But it’s served cold and frankly
comes in the coolest mug I’ve ever laid a hand on. If you order
the large size, that is.
By the way, I asked my new best friend, the waiter at Kozak
Mamay (he spoke good English) for a Zambuca but he never
heard of it. Instead he gave me something else I’ll have to get
the name of when I return.
After dinner on the walk back home I decided to stop in The
Cavern Club, which I had passed on the way to Kozak Mamay.
Yes, it was all Beatles…great stuff on the walls…and here it was
Warsteiner, a decent German brew I’ve had before in my travels.
Got a lot of good political info from the bartender here.
So that was day two….which I finished off with a few Stellas in
the hotel bar to do some more people watching.
Day Three…this time I hired out an English-speaking driver who
took me to the World War II museum (Rodina Mat), a pretty
impressive place, and Maxsim seemed to enjoy escorting me
around. He said his wife taught English herself but didn’t have
the time to teach him…so he was learning on his own. The main
reason for getting the car, though, was because I wanted to head
into the country to see the Folk Museum at Pyrohovo.
I haven’t mentioned it snowed each of my first three days here,
nothing significant, but there was still plenty of snow on the
ground in the parks as winter doesn’t end here until about mid-
April. I also knew the Village at Pyrohovo would probably be
largely closed, it not exactly being tourist season, but it was
worth a shot.
So Maxsim and I get to the place, about a ½ hour out of Kiev,
and it was open, barely. It was also icy…very icy…as in we
proceeded to walk around for an hour and a half on what seemed
like an ice flow. There are 300 buildings on this giant piece of
property and everything was locked up but we still had to pay
admission. And out of nowhere a woman appeared and let us in
three of the more historic strucutres…one of which Shevchenko
lived in. After a half hour I wanted to get back to the car because
I was freezing and afraid we’d fall through a pond or something,
but Maxsim was enjoying being outside. I asked him if there
were any bears here and he said only wolves……I searched my
memory for the plotline to Peter and the Wolf.
After I got back I had a late lunch at The Cavern Club, then
prepared for my big night out. The concierge had set me up with
a ticket to the season opener at the ‘Philharmonie’. Alas, the two
of us had been working on this for the better part of a day and
two hours before show time he didn’t have my ticket. Then he
called to say there were no tickets. Because it was opening
night, it was free! Just show up.
Well this made zero sense to me. I’m used to reading about
opening night at The Met or Carnegie Hall where tickets are
$1,000 plus and everyone tries to get their picture taken for the
Sunday Times with Sandy Weill.
So I get there at 6:30 for the 7:00 performance, look around, and
there’s not much of a crowd…but there’s a bar! So I had a glass
of chardonnay to get in the spirit. This was strictly an artsy
crowd. Not one mob figure in the bunch.
Five minutes to 7:00 they opened the gate and we orderly filed
in. Take your seat anywhere. Turned out to be about 400 of
us…the place sat maybe 500… and a woman stepped forward to
introduce the piece we were about to hear.
The concierge had told me he thought it was the world premiere
of a work by a Ukrainian composer and sure enough it was. But
first I had to listen to four other people give speeches. Geezuz,
they were long-winded; especially considering I was the only
American there.
And when the music started….eegads! It was dreadful. This guy
thought he was Stravinsky or something (Stravinsky also being
awful) and he threw in every instrument imaginable in the first
minute just to prove he could. It was the very definition of
chaos.
But after a while it was almost comical and I couldn’t help but
suppress a smile. I started looking around and everyone else was
either bored to tears or in great pain.
At the end of this catastrophe the conductor turned around
slowly, like he couldn’t believe himself he had just put his
orchestra and the audience through this piece of crap and he kind
of threw up his arms. There were maybe six hands clapping in
the joint.
Then he pointed to a man sitting in front of me, called him
onstage, and it was then I realized it was this guy’s composition.
So out of respect a few more started clapping. I waited to see
what my neighbors on either side were doing. They weren’t
clapping. I chose not to as well.
OK…so the composer sits back down and then…what’s this?
The orchestra is leaving for a break! So I make a break for the
exit….along with ten others.
Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, we were free at
last! I threw on my coat, virtually hugging the coat check
matron, and rushed outside into the fresh air. I had found an
hour! My 30-minute walk back to the hotel was exhilarating and
offered a good chance to see the cityscape at night. Kiev is a
cool place.
What did I do with my free time? I went back to the hotel
restaurant but the action was nowhere near like Sunday.
Day four…today…well I need to wrap this baby up. You’re
probably hoping I do, too. After doing my site work in the
morning I went shopping on the main drag and found what I
wanted; a cool soccer (futbol) shirt. Of course it was in Russian
so I asked the salesman what I was buying. I knew it was a Kiev
(Kyiv) club, but who?
“Dee-na-mo.”
“Dynamo? Oh hell, I know that name. They’re one of the
greats.”
So I’m the only kid on my block back in New Jersey with a Dee-
na-mo t-shirt. And at the end of the day, isn’t that what really
matters?
Later today I went to the Caves Monastery; a big, historic
complex that really takes about four hours to do it justice and I
gave it only two. But I did see the world famous miniatures. As
in the world’s smallest book…12 pages and just 0.6 millimeters
big. You’re reading that right. And this inventor managed to
place a chess set on the head of a pin. Plus he put a balalaika on
half a poppy seed. Very cool.
Well, that’s it for now. Lots of women, especially the older
ones, die their hair red here. And I’m trying to figure out who
started the men’s fashion of very pointy shoes? Take the old
Beatle boots and extend the toe another inch or two. They look
like elf feet and are really quite ridiculous. Of course if you’re
involved in some kind of gang warfare they’d come in handy I
suppose.
Stuff
–No doubt, it’s been an outstanding NCAA tournament thus far.
And yes, I was wrong months ago when I questioned the quality
of play this season…my opinion being influenced by the collapse
of my Demon Deacons.
Ten schools knocked off teams selected five spots higher, tying a
record set in 1986, 1990 and 2002. And I forget who first said it
but today’s parity is best explained by the fact the smaller
programs have a far better shot at keeping programs together
longer than the elite ones do because the elite tend to lose their
stars early to the NBA…a la Wake Forest and that heathen Chris
Paul.
After Sunday’s action I had 11 of the Sweet 16 in my bracket,
but Pitt finished me off as I had them going to the Final Four.
And the Missouri Valley Conference proved us all wrong by
getting Bradley and Wichita State this far. But no Big Ten
teams? Put ‘em all on probation.
–Wake Forest baseball?! Where have I been? Suddenly the
latest poll has Wake #25 in the nation. Could it be? Is this the
start of a turnaround in Wake athletics? Will the men’s golf
team get its act together before it’s too late? Can Wake
basketball hang on to its recruits for next fall? This is all this
alumnus cares about.
Speaking of Wake, and its faculty, I swear Maya Angelou was on
my flight to Paris the other day. She was in first class, though,
and by the time I got through passport control and to my bag, she
wasn’t around. I was going to nail her for an autograph for LT, a
huge fan, while I hit her with my latest poem.
A rock, a hard shiny rock
Waiting for a French youth to pick up
New labor contract in the works
Youth concerned he may actually have to work
So shut down city and kill the economy
Throw the rock at a policeman and hit him in the head
That’s what French youth are good at
A rock, a hard shiny rock
[I don’t know…I think she would have liked it.]
–Dr. Bortrum passed along a note that while I was settling in on
Sunday I missed one of the great choke jobs in the history of
golf; Greg Owens’ performance at Bay Hill where he 3-putted
from three feet on the 17th hole, thus blowing the tournament to
Rod Pampling. I did see this fiasco on the BBC, played over and
over.
–How could the Patriots let Adam Vinatieri go? Yeah, I know
it’s about money, but he should have been a lifer. Glad to see
my Jets get rid of John Abraham. A lot of us were tired of his act
and he’s big time suspect. Atlanta is shelling out $18 million,
guaranteed, as part of a 6-year, $45 million agreement.
[Then again, I was just reading some New York sports
columnists question why fans like me are such idiots in wanting
Abraham, a proven pass rusher, out of here.]
–Mike Lupica / New York Daily News…more commentary on
the Barry Bonds front as Opening Day nears.
“(The juicers) violated the spirit of the law, despite all the
claptrap you read and hear about how they were just doing what
anybody would do.” It’s not too late for Selig to take the moral
high ground. “At the end, Selig has to be able to stand up and
say Bonds did it. Bury Barry Bonds with the evidence the way
Bart Giamatti buried Rose.”
–I note the passing of a great news anchor for the New York
area, Bill Beutel, 75, who for over 30 years carried forth at ABC.
I was an NBC guy myself but caught him quite often and he had
one of the great signoffs… “Good luck and be well.”
–Can you believe that Paul Tagliabue was NFL commissioner
for 16 years?
–That’s a wild story thesmokinggun.com came up with
regarding Tony Sirico of “The Sopranos” and his real life of
crime back in the early 1970s.
–So I had my two VCRs programmed back home to capture both
the Sopranos and “Desperate Housewives” while I was away.
And here on the main street in Kiev there is a big Desperate
Housewives billboard.
–Sorry, just couldn’t get fired up over the World Baseball
Classic, but good for Japan.
–A tip for those traveling in Ukraine is, “Don’t expect to keep up
with Ukrainians making toasts – they can out drink all comers!”
Certainly appears that way from what I’ve observed.
Top 3 songs for the week of 3/26/77: #1 “Rich Girl” (Daryl Hall
& John Oates) #2 “Love Theme From ‘A Star Is Born’” (Barbra
Streisand…communist…but I’ll always love “People”!) #3
“Dancing Queen” (Abba…overrated)…and…#4 “Don’t Give Up
On Us” (David Soul) #6 “Fly Like An Eagle” (Steve Miller
…this was my freshman year in college and I had a friend in my
suite who played the LP ‘Book of Dreams’ over and over and
over… to the point where we all couldn’t stand it. Only now can
I fully appreciate its greatness again. The same guy overplayed
Boston’s debut album…then again I was doing the same with
Earth, Wind & Fire) #8 “The Things We Do For Love” (10CC)
Baseball Quiz Answer: 1) Top five all time in saves –
1. Lee Smith, 478
2. Trevor Hoffman, 436
3. John Franco, 424
4. Dennis Eckersley, 390
5. Mariano Rivera, 379
Of course this is one category that baseball purists really couldn’t
give a damn about; though Eckersley certainly deserves his Hall
of Fame nod as will Rivera down the road. As for the top three,
no way. Bruce Sutter, by the way, is #19 on the list and Goose
Gossage #16; but those were the days when a save was far
tougher to come by.
2) Career losses, modern-day: Nolan Ryan, 292. 324-292,
mediocre .526 winning percentage.
Next Bar Chat, Tuesday.
