Grand Larseny

Quite a reversal of fortune for the Phils last night. Not only did they lose, they couldn’t even scratch out a hit. It was only the second time in World Series history that a team was no-hit. The first, of course, was Don Larsen’s perfect game in the 1956 WS for the Yankees against the Brooklyn Dodgers. This one wasn’t perfect: three Phils reached base on walks. And it took four Astro pitchers to accomplish, while Larsen’s was perfect and was all his.

Larsen started his career with the Aberdeen Pheasants in 1947, and had stints with the Wichita Falls Spudders and several other teams before making it to the big leagues. I thought Spudders had something to do with potatoes but a Spudder is (1) an oil driller, and (2) a tool that removes bark from timber. Here’s what the tool looks like:

Get this – the first Wichita Falls Spudders team ran from 1920 to 1932 at which point it moved to Longview Texas and became the Longview Cannibals. Wait, what? Yes, the Cannibals! They got that name after one of their relief pitchers had such a poor outing that he was dismembered and eaten in the clubhouse after the game by several of his teammates. No! Just kidding! The team was called the Longview Baseball Club, but after a lopsided victory a local reporter wrote: “The poor San Antonio Missionaries were eaten up by the Longview Cannibals today,” and the name stuck.

Larsen was traded to the Yanks by Baltimore in 1955 as part of a 17-player trade. Yes, seventeen. He left the Yanks after the 1959 season in the trade with Kansas City that brought Roger Maris to NY.

Larsen’s control was so sharp in his perfect game that he went to three balls on only one batter. The game ended on a called third strike, his 97th pitch. The last batter was pinch-hitter Dale Mitchell. Larsen’s catcher, Yogi Berra, leapt into his arms.

Larsen’s first marriage, to Vivian in 1955, was less than perfect. On the day Larsen pitched his perfect game they were estranged, and Vivian was in court seeking to have his WS winnings withheld and paid towards her support. But his second marriage, to Corinne, lasted over 60 years. In 2012, he auctioned off the uniform he wore for the perfect game, and used the proceeds to pay for college for his grandchildren. He died on New Year’s Day, 2020, at age 90.


The puzzle today described itself at 38 across: BLAH, clued as “Meh.” My favorite word in it was PLINTH. Don’t thay it outloud — you’ll be lithping for half an hour. The clue was “Column base.” Here’th a nithe plinth:

In the “Missed Opportunity Department,” 34 across: NO EAR, was clued as “Absence of musical ability.” I’d have used “Taunt hurled by art hooligans at Van Gogh,” although I guess that would have to be “One ear.”

Leopold AUER was the answer for 22D. Classical music fans might recognize him as the great Hungarian/Russian violinist who lived from 1845 to 1930. He came to the U.S. during the Russian Revolution. Many of his students achieved great success, including Jascha Heifetz. Tchaikovsky was a big fan and helped get Auer his position in the St. Petersburg Conservatory, where he stayed for 49 years. Had I not wasted so much time, space, and energy on all that drivel about Don Larsen, I might have gone on longer about Auer. So count yourself lucky.

Leopold Auer is no relation to Arnold Sexauer, a Manhattan attorney. I had to call Sexauer once but the connection was bad. The receptionist answered and I said “Arnold Sexauer, please.” She said she couldn’t hear me, so I repeated it louder: “Arnold Sexauer, please.” Again, she told me it wasn’t coming through. I tried one more time but it was frustrating, so I started shouting into the phone — “Sexauer, Sexauer, — do you have a Sexauer there?” And she said, “Are you kidding me? We don’t even get a coffee break.”


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