Baseball fans. Have you heard about this black eye on our sport? I recently watched the O’s beat up on the Rangers in Baltimore, but had no idea this was going on down in Texas. First, the photo:

The cop is Texas Ranger Jay Banks apparently unruffled by anything that may be going on. Wait. What’s that hanging above the school’s door? In the words of the NYT, it’s “an effigy of a Black man hanging from a noose.” What the f*ck?” I can’t recall seeing one of those hanging over the door at the Yeshivah of Flatbush HS in Brooklyn when I went there.

Filling in some blanks, the picture was taken outside Mansfield HS in 1956, amid a failed effort to desegregate. Banks led a detachment of Rangers who, at the governor’s direction, refused to allow the integration. Mansfield is near Dallas.

In 1961, unrelatedly, a statue was being sculpted by artist Waldine Tauch to honor the Rangers generically and Banks served as the model for the symbolic Ranger. It stood at a Dallas airport for many years, but was removed in 2020 when its infamous past flared up. It stayed in storage until the baseball Rangers agreed to give it standing in the left field concourse last month.

Much sh*t is hitting the proverbial fan. Some deny that Banks was the model, but Banks himself said he was. Banks’ daughter did as well in her book, featuring a photo of Banks next to the statue. Even the Texas Rangers museum says it’s Banks.

One can argue whether the Rangers organization is more stupid than racist, or vicey versey. A strong case can be made for both. MLB has not taken a stand on the statue yet, so it is complicit, obviously. The statue has got to go. And the club should be hit with substantial penalties for “conduct detrimental” to the sport. In the time-honored tradition of sharing the hate, the Rangers are also the only team in MLB to not offer a Pride night for its gay community.

In its annual tribute that rings hollow to our ears at the moment, MLB celebrated Jackie Robinson Day this week.

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Speaking of baseball, our Gnats are coming home from an incredible 5-2 road trip! We swept the Beermeisters and split with Pittsburgh — two good teams. Thursday’s win was a cardiologist’s delight. DC went up 4-0 but blew that lead as fast as they could. Then it went to 7-6 Gnats. Hanging on by a thread until they loaded the bases with no outs in the top of the ninth. Insurance runs by the handful, right? Nope, nope, nope. One grounder for a play at the plate, and another for a double play, so we limped into the last half inning with a very shaky lead.

Clayton Beeter on the mound. I like CB, but in a flash, he put two on base and it was all he could do to keep the damage to one run, the tying run. In the tenth the Bucs inexplicably failed to walk Gnat slugger James Wood with a runner on second, two outs, and first base open. Wood laced a shot to right and we went up 8-7. But, you know, in extra innings these days each team gets to start with a runner on second. So in the bottom of the tenth when an infield hit made it first and third with no outs, the lead looked especially thin. Yikes! Orlando Ribalta was on the mound, having recently been called up. Gloom had settled over me ever since we failed in the ninth, but I perked up watching Ribalta — he looked great! Who is this guy? He struck out Bryan Reynolds swinging, a good hitter, and induced the next batter to ground into a 6-4-3 DP. Game over! Gnats win! Never in doubt! Here’s Ribalta.

Back to earth last night with a 10-5 drubbing at the hands of the Giants.

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Your call: Are ICE’s actions motivated more by viciousness or stupidity? When they march a little old man out of his home in front of cameras in freezing Minnesota weather in his pajamas and slippers — good PR?

There is no shortage of outrages like that. This week’s good one had them arresting an 85-year-old widow in her nightgown. Marie-Thérèse Ross-Mahé met Bill Ross when she was a young secretary and he was stationed in France with the military. Decades later, when their spouses died, they reunited and married. Nice, right?

Marie-Thérèse moved to the U.S. but, sadly, Bill passed away and a dispute over his property erupted between her and his kids. She overstayed her visa by a few months and was ratted out by the kids. That’s when ICE stepped in and arrested her. She was shipped to a concentration camp in Louisiana where she could not be reached by her own children in France (who were worried about her health), because the camp did not accept international calls. SRSLY? And the estate was bupkis: $1,500 in the bank, a couple of cars, and a house valued at $173,000, which, in Jersey, might be enough to buy a parking spot in a Hoboken garage for a compact.

Get this: The probate judge, Shirley A. Millwood, a Republican, in a ruling, urged the federal government to investigate, “especially in light of the ongoing national events surrounding the distrust of federal law enforcement officers and the many investigations ongoing of corruption within our government.” (I guess word has gotten out?)

The denouement: Marie-Thérèse was released after 16 days in detention, and returned to France. Here’s how the NYT described her return:

“Delivered directly to the Alexandria International Airport in Louisiana by immigration officers, Ms. Ross-Mahé was greeted at Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport by her three adult children. She was still dressed in her prison wear — orange shoes, sweatpants and a gray sweater — covered in stains and holes, according to one of her sons. Ms. Ross-Mahé, who has high blood pressure and back pain from severe sciatica, was in a state of physical shock and spiritual exhaustion, he said.”

Jean-Noël Barrot, the French foreign affairs minister, who bears a creepy resemblance to Stephen Miller, said “there were acts of violence” in the case that concerned the French government. Tu penses?

God bless America.

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At 14A in the puzzle today the clue was “Dish purportedly invented in LA’s Little Tokyo neighborhood.” The answer was CALIFORNIA ROLL. But — not so fast!! Anony Mouse posted: “FYI: CALIFORNIA ROLLs were not invented in LA, they were invented in Vancouver by chef Hidekazu Tojo. Took me forever to get that, because I knew they weren’t invented in Little Tokyo.”

I replied: The last thing I need is to be embroiled (or embaked or emfried) in a sushi debate, but Wikipedia says “The identity of the creator of the California roll is disputed. Several chefs from LA have been cited as the originator, as well as one chef from Vancouver, BC.”

Happily, there is no similar hoohah regarding the creator of the Gefilte roll, my grandmother Adele, of blessed memory.

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I drew blanks for wordplay with yesterday’s puzzle but hit some sort of dreadful groove today: apologies in advance. My fodder was: HUDSON (“New York’s ____ Valley”); MELTED (“Like the cheese in fondue”); HASSOCKS (“Relatives of ottomans”); BAREFOOT (“How people get into a swimming pool, typically”); RESTEASY (“‘You’ve got nothing to worry about’”); SAG (“Start to give”); DFW (“Texas air hub, for short”); and SAFEWORD (“Term in the bedroom, maybe”).

Here’s what I came up with:

Is there a Paul Newman movie for us to watch tonight?

HUDSON

License plate on vehicle owned by Brooks and Danson: MELTED

Advice as the temperature drops: Whoever HASSOCKS shouldn’t go BAREFOOT.

Frequent complaint about the NYTXW lately: A couple of tricky clues but REST EASY.

Marina for the octogenarians: SAG Harbor

A DUI made me miss my ETD at DFW.

SAFEWORDS (at my age): CALL 911!

Hubba hubba.

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This poem is called “Nineteen.” It’s from today’s Writer’s Almanac and is by Katrina Vandenberg.

Carrie and I were hanging our wash on the roof
of the hostel in Riomaggiore—all we had carried
in our packs while remaining half-dressed—when
the Italian couple came up to shower. They shared
a stall, not caring about us and our sodden rainbow
of underwear on the line. From the roof
we could see the Mediterranean bang the cliffs,
and other roof gardens, with cats and coral
geraniums like this one. In the shower that morning,
I had sudsed my hair under the open sky,
the fingers of the sun electric, like God’s
on the Sistine Chapel ceiling I’d been herded in
to see the week before. Now the cotton partitions
trembled, and the couple’s feet danced
in the spray, her small red-painted toes digging
into the tops of his feet. When she cried out,
Carrie looked at me, and I know we were thinking
the same thing, as the couple caterwauled in the tongue
we wanted to learn, and the inbred cats basked,
and our clothes released the grime of early spring,
and the son of the hostel owner went to scout another train.

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Thanks for the visit! We’re seeing the Chatham HS production of Chicago tonight. Looking forward to seeing the explosion of youth right there on the stage. Seniors get tix gratis, and ours are in the front row. Report to follow.

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