If you play word association with a Jets fan and say SNELL, the L will still be ringing in the air when Matt gets tossed back at you. Matt Snell was the cannonball of a fullback who rushed the Jets to their only Super Bowl win behind Joe Namath. But it’s Blake Snell who’s in the news today. Not exactly a household name, he did win the Cy Young award last year, his second. And in 2018 he went 21-5 with a 1.89 ERA. Gibsonesque.
He was also the subject of one of the more controversial takeouts when Rays manager Kevin Cash removed him with one out in sixth inning of Game 6 of the 2020 World Series. Snell was on fire but gave up a single and Cash didn’t want him facing Dodger threats Seager and Betts. So he pulled him, LA pounced on the bullpen and won the game and the Series. I was watching and it seemed crazy to me to pull Snell. He was having a game like he had Friday. Which brings us to why we’re talking about him: He tossed a brilliant no-hitter for the Jints against the Reds Friday night. And — amazingly — it was the first time in his 9-year career that he pitched into the ninth inning of a game.
Haeley give your man a big kiss — you don’t pitch a no-hitter every day. Haeley (who bought one too many vowels, it seems to me) and Blake have been dating for two years and have a one-year-old son.
She’s a model. (Better lose that hat, babe.)
The Gnats snapped their 5-game losing streak yesterday, topping Milwaukee 6-4. I watched most of it and noticed the Brewers have a player named Brice Turang. His siblings are named Brianna, Carissa, Cabria, and Bailee. But never mind them, there’s been a rare Jew-sighting! Spencer Horwitz, who played for Israel in the 2023 Baseball World Classic, batted fifth and played 2B for the Blue Jays at Yankee Stadium in two games going 3 for 8 (.375) with three RBI and two runs scored. Mazel Tov Spence! Parents David and Laura back in Maryland are qvelling.
There are other Jewish ballplayers in the majors, but Spence is new to me and is doing well, kinahora. And just look at that shayna punim — what a good boy!
In other baseball news, has anyone been following the White Sox? They won only three games in all of July. They went 3-22 and are currently working on a 20-game losing streak. The longest streak in AL history is 21, by the 1988 Orioles. The longest in MLB history is 23: the 1961 Phils. The Sox play the also-very-bad Athletics in Oakland for three games to go for tying the record. They can break it next Friday at home against the hometown rival Cubs.
Three answers in yesterday’s puzzle were SOBA (the noodle, often confused with UDON in puzzles), IN A STUPOR, and PHO (the Vietnamese soup). Here’s how egs played with them:
After belting down a few Jack Daniels the other night I went to a local noodle shop.
Egs: I’ll have some buckwheat noodles.
Waiter: SOBA?
Egs: A bit tipsy, but not IN A STUPOR. Now just give me the damn noodles or I’ll go to the Vietnamese place.
Waiter: It’s always crowded there. You’ll probably find a big PHO queue.
This piece by Estee Pierce is from yesterday’s Met Diary:
Dear Diary:
I was on my way to meet a high school friend for lunch on the Upper West Side and had walked from Midtown through Central Park.
Leaving the park, I hustled in the direction of Amsterdam Avenue. I passed the schoolyard outside the Anderson School on the way. I saw some boys playing volleyball without a net, and I watched their ball fly over the very high chain-link fence and land at my feet.
I looked at my watch. I had three minutes to get to lunch on time. I placed the ball at the base of the fence. A boy of about 13 locked eyes with me from the other side.
“You’re going to have to come out and get this,” I said. I did not trust my throwing skills.
He shook his head calmly.
“Please,” he said. “Just try.”
I tried to lob the ball over the fence but failed to make it even a third of the way to the top.
By now, a medium-size crowd of middle schoolers had gathered to watch. I could not fail my audience.
I looked at the boy again.
“Try again,” he said, crouching into a deep squat with his arms extended. “Like this.”
Using this new technique, I tried again. This time, I was just a few feet shy of the top. The crowd was cheering me on.
I tried once more, this time with more force, and ball went over the fence.
The crowd went wild. I turned and saw an older woman standing nearby who was also cheering.
I waved farewell to my fans and hurried off to lunch. I was about 10 minutes late.
Today’s New Yorker puzzle was by Natan Last, one of my favorite constructors. He wrote a story a while back in which he mentioned he sometimes plays with his last name. It made me envision this scene:
Hi! Who are you?
I’m Natan.
Hi Natan — what’s your last name?
Last.
Yes, what’s your last name?
Last.
Right — that’s what I’m asking — your last name.
Last.
What is it — your last name?
Last.
I’m asking you for your last name, yes.
Last.
Third base!!
This poem from today’s Writer’s Almanac is called “Next Time” and it’s by Joyce Sutphen.
Next Time
I’ll know the names of all of the birds
and flowers, and not only that, I’ll
tell you the name of the piano player
I’m hearing right now on the kitchen
radio, but I won’t be in the kitchen,
I’ll be walking a street in
New York or London, about
to enter a coffee shop where people
are reading or working on their
laptops. They’ll look up and smile.
Next time I won’t waste my heart
on anger; I won’t care about
being right. I’ll be willing to be
wrong about everything and to
concentrate on giving myself away.
Next time, I’ll rush up to people I love,
look into their eyes, and kiss them, quick.
I’ll give everyone a poem I didn’t write,
one specially chosen for that person.
They’ll hold it up and see a new
world. We’ll sing the morning in,
and I will keep in touch with friends,
writing long letters when I wake from
a dream where they appear on the
Orient Express. “Meet me in Istanbul,”
I’ll say, and they will.
Thanks for dropping in!
The Wellington Files 