From the Wikipedia: Victor Gruen

I spent about six hours wandering around the Palisades Mall yesterday, and based on empirical evidence, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet you did too.

From the Wikipedia: Victor Gruen

Architect Victor Gruen was born Viktor David Grünbaum in Vienna, but changed his name when he emigrated to the United States in 1938. He didn’t do anything particularly interesting until the mid-1950s, when he designed the first surburban open-air mall outside of Detroit, then the first enclosed mall in the U.S. in Edina, Minnesota.

For this, Gruen’s name is given to “The Gruen Effect” or “The Gruen Transfer,” the experience a shopper has when he enters a mall, becomes disoriented, forgets what he came for, and ends up ambling around the mall looking at shiny things in store windows.

That’s intentional. Gruen himself would, later in life, speak out against intentionally manipulative architecture, but his name is now inextricably linked to it. Shopping-mall designers want you to get lost in their creations, kind of like how casino designers want you to have no idea what time of day it is. The end is the same: You keep spending money.

For a shopper — even one familiar with the mall in question — it takes an inordinate amount of will power to enter the mall focused on a single purchase, make that purchase and leave without being distracted by something at some other store. Often, a mall will have nooks and crannies that force you to look directly at other stores, rather than present an unobstructed view straight down any hall.

Note that in most malls, you can’t see an exit from any of the main shopping areas. It’s never just a long hall with stores on both sides and a big door at the end. That would make it too easy to escape.

The most downright Gruenizing mall I’ve ever been to is the hilarious Mall of America outside Minneapolis. It’s a complete maze, and it’s got like seven Orange Julii. And an amusement park. And an aquarium. I spent a full day there once in lieu of actually checking out Minneapolis.

The funniest instance of the Gruen transfer, of course, occurs in the movie Blues Brothers, when Jake and Elwood drive into the Dixie Square Mall while fleeing from cops, then, in the midst of a high-speed pursuit, become taken with all the shopping options.

“This place has got everything.”

Gets me every time.

I’m not saying the Gruen effect is a bad thing, of course. It just is what it is. I’m from Long Island, so I’m contractually obligated to like shopping malls, even if it’s more of a grotesque fascination. It’s just funny to me to hear people say things like, “Oh, that mall sucks so much, I always get lost there,” when, in fact, that means the mall has done its job.

Art Attack: Loria gets his art on

I’ve always been interested in stadium architecture. I like sports and my father is an architect, so I guess it’s a natural fit.

I wrote my final grad school paper on the Bird’s Nest stadium that was, at the time, under construction for the 2008 Olympics in Beijing. I touched on some of the themes of that essay in this column.

In this country, the term “stadium architecture” is often something of an oxymoron. Jeffrey Loria, for better or worse, is out to change that:

Marlins owner Jeffrey Loria’s vision has always been to turn the franchise’s new ballpark into a work of art.

OK, so that’s a bit pretentious. “I’m going to make a big awesome new stadium, and it’s going to be ART, dammit!” But you’ve got to respect the guy for trying to shake things up a bit in the stadium-design paradigm. I thought the Rays’ new stadium would be the first place to do that, but then the bottom fell out of the project.

Anyway, the Marlins got the Miami Art in Public Places Trust to commission a few local and international artists for installations at the new place, and at least a couple of them look to be pretty awesome. Ron Grooms’ home-run celebration feature looks a bit hokey, for sure, but it’s colorful and fan-friendly and a very Miami-appropriate take on the Shea Stadium apple.

What I love, though, is the proposed project by Daniel Arsham and Snarkitecture to commemorate the old Orange Bowl, which was demolished in 2008 to make room for the stadium. The plan is to create concrete replicas of the letters from the Orange Bowl’s original sign and scatter them around the stadium’s entrance plaza.

That’s sweet. The letters can serve as seating or identifiable meeting places for fans outside of the ballpark, and at the same time work as a memorial to a part of the city’s sports history. They’ll look a bit random, for sure, and I can imagine a bunch of incredulous Tweets from beat writers seeing the place for the first time, but they’re clearly fun.

There’s a lot about the new stadium and its design that’s a bit risky, and obviously it’s too soon to say if or how it will all look and work, but good for the Marlins for attempting something different.

Mark DeRosa: Not better than Fernando Tatis

Matt Cerrone passes along an item from Jon Heyman saying that Mark DeRosa could be an option for the Mets at first base. Buster Olney at ESPN said yesterday that DeRosa is seeking a three-year, $18 million deal.

Pass.

I never really know what to believe in the hot-stove season, and I have no idea what kind of deal DeRosa will actually get. But it strikes me that whatever value DeRosa maintains is inherent in his versatility, and if the Mets see him as a right-handed complement to Daniel Murphy at first base, there are better options for less money.

DeRosa played mostly third base for the Cardinals and Indians in 2009, but the Mets are covered there. Sure it’s nice to have a guy who can spell David Wright every so often, but David Wright really doesn’t need much spelling.

In 2007 and 2008, DeRosa played mostly second base, meaning he could be a fallback plan should Luis Castillo get moved or get traded. But both UZR and Bill James’ +/- suggest that DeRosa was a pretty bad fielder there in 2008. He’s probably not a legitimate starting option at the position moving forward.

So DeRosa’s much-lauded versatility shouldn’t mean much to the Mets.

He can hit a bit, especially against left-handed pitching, and since his BABIP in 2009 was about 30 points below his career average, it’s reasonable to expect he was a bit unlucky to have a down year at the plate. Of course, his line-drive rate dipped, too, so it’s impossible to write off his .250/.319/.433 year as a complete fluke.

And here’s the thing: If the Mets are interested in a righty-hitting 35-year-old first baseman who can fill in at second, third and the outfield corners, they could likely get one for much smaller commitment by bringing back Fernando Tatis.

Yeah, him. That guy the Mets didn’t offer arbitration to, for fear he might actually accept it and take a raise on his $1.7 million salary from 2009.

So what does DeRosa offer over Tatis? Well, he plays more, for one. But when he does, it’s hard to identify how he’s better. Tatis actually posted slightly better offensive numbers than DeRosa over the past two years — a 113 OPS+ to DeRosa’s 108 — and was statistically better as a defensive infielder, albeit in much smaller samples.

DeRosa’s a local product, so he’s got that. And though I haven’t seen him play a full season of games, I can only assume he’s loaded up on grit and hustle and rampant clutchitude.

And of course, I can’t mention Tatis without bringing up all the double plays he hit into in 2009. That was bad, for sure.

But likely to continue? I doubt it. Remember that Tatis maintained a reputation as one of the most clutch Mets in 2008 — especially by Joe Benigno’s standards — and that eight of the 13 double plays he hit into came in June. At the time, he was often hitting behind David Wright or Ryan Church, players who got on base respectively at .432 and .361 clips that month, providing Tatis plenty of opportunities to be doubly penalized just for putting the ball in play.

Mets fans — myself included — gave Jerry Manuel a lot of grief for platooning Tatis with the younger, homegrown Daniel Murphy, who had more to prove at the big-league level than the 34-year-old journeyman. But that’s not really Tatis’ fault.

I understand the desire among fans to move on from players like Tatis, role players on a club that missed the playoffs in 2008 and stunk in 2009, just for the sake of change.

But whatever that’s worth, I am almost certain, is not as much as the difference between what Tatis will command and what DeRosa is demanding.

Items of note

Mike D’Antoni said he’d “play Satan himself” if it helped the Knicks win. Donnie Walsh replied that he’d acquire Satan himself if he had an expiring contract. Unfortunately, contracts with Satan never expire.

Craig Calcaterra has an interesting theory about Jason Bay’s mystery bidder. It’s a bit out there, but the dots certainly connect.

Bob Raissman beats a drum I’ve hit myself a few times. Good for him for calling out newspapers, since I assume he means his own.

Buster Olney unironically uses the term “base-clogger” to describe Nick Johnson. The Mets won’t have too much trouble with clogged bases from the bottom of this lineup. Cliff Corcoran drops all sorts of logic while weighing in on the Johnson signing at Bronx Banter.

A breakthrough led to “a high level of serious hysteria” at a theoretical physics workshop. I have to imagine that looked at least a little bit like this:

“Good heavens, Miss Sakamoto! You’re beautiful!”

From the Wikipedia: Empanadas

I’m hungry. From the Wikipedia: Empanadas.

Empanadas are stuffed pastries originally from the Iberian Peninsula. They get their name from the Spanish verb “empanar,” which means “to bread.” They are most often filled with some form of meat, and are for the most part completely awesome.

The Wikipedia believes that empanadas were derived from muaajanat, savory pastries popular among the 8th century Berbers that invaded the area in the Umayyad conquest of Hispania. The Wikipedia doesn’t have an entry for muaajanat, but it’s safe to say they were delicious.

Empanadas were first brought to the Americas by European colonists, though I imagine they were stale by the end of the boat ride.

Today, 22 different nations can claim varieties of the empanada. Empanadas are made with a variety of ingredients and prepared in a variety of ways, and the empanada’s Wikipedia page is amazingly exhaustive. It’s worth a read, but I’d like to highlight a few details:

– Medellin, Colombia apparently boasts a city-wide love of pork and chorizo meats. I’m investigating accommodations.

– El Salvadorian empanadas are not really empanadas at all, but fried plantains stuffed with sweet cream. So probably still really good.

– Empanadas in the Mexican state of Hidalgo are known as pastes, and were brought to the region not by Spanish colonists, but by British miners. They get their name from Cornish pasties, which are also available in Wisconsin and the upper peninsula of Michigan and which are way too dry.

– The list of similar dishes includes stromboli, knishes and Hot Pockets. “Stromboli Knishes and the Hot Pockets” would be a decent name for a band.

Nearly every carnivorous culture has come up with some sort of way to wrap some sort of meat in some sort of bread: the sandwich, the meat pie, the burrito, the beef patty, the pork bun, the gyro, the pupusa, the corn dog, the schwarma.

I could continue, but you get the point. Meats wrapped in breads are about as universal as creation myths, and usually way more satisfying. Their ubiquity should be a source of pride for the human race.

And thanks to globalization, they are available in ever-increasing varieties. This is one of the reasons it’s great to be alive and hungry* in the 21st century.

*Not hungry in the starving sense obviously. Hungry like a guy who is about to enjoy an empanada.

Start the movement

Rob Neyer passes along a list from Thomas Boswell proposing ways to speed up baseball games. One of them caught my eye:

Sorry about “God Bless America” at the seventh-inning stretch, but it needs to go. It was a fine idea after 9/11. But it has served its purpose. And it wastes two minutes.

I don’t know how much time it really wastes, especially since they don’t play it at every game, but I didn’t think it was that fine an idea after 9/11.

I’m not out to ever make this blog about politics, so forgive me if I tread a little close to the line here.

I get why parks started playing the song when they did. It was an emotional time, and one when everyone felt the need to do something — anything — to somehow pay homage to the horrifying things that had happened.

But the song itself always seemed like a strange choice. One of the big selling points on the ol’ U.S. of A. is freedom of religion, and “God Bless America,” coming on the heels of attacks closely tied to religious fundamentalism, felt like a reactive and potentially alienating choice.

Plus it’s just not that good of a song. “America the Beautiful” is like 100 times better, especially if it’s being performed by Ray Charles on video.

Also, I’m not sure there’s a more patriotic song than “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

And today, for better or worse, the playing of “God Bless America” at baseball games only serves to remind us of an awful thing that happened eight years ago, and to create situations like this one. If the pursuit of brevity forces its league-wide elimination, then so be it.

Man of straw

The Daily News has more about the Mets’ pursuit of Jason Bay today. John Harper:

Though all of New York seems to be waiting impatiently for the Mets to make a big move this offseason, they are negotiating at a deliberate pace with Jason Bay.

Let’s edit that:

Though all of New York me and my colleagues at the Daily News seems to be are waiting impatiently for the Mets to make a big move this offseason provide us with easy fodder to write about, they are negotiating at a deliberate pace with Jason Bay.

Done.

The impatient Met fan, this year, appears to be a bit of a straw man. I thought he was out there a few weeks ago when I wrote this post, then I spoke to him again here.

But check out the comments section on Matt’s measured, reasonable post about the Mets’ offseason so far at MetsBlog. Nearly everyone agrees with him. And if you want a good barometer for the going sentiments among Mets fans, there’s no better place to check than the MetsBlog comments section.

Anyway, what’s more important is the rest of the Daily News article. It basically says that the Mets don’t know that there’s another bidder out there for Bay, so are resisting the urge to extend their offer to five years and are trying to feel out the market for the right-handed slugger.

That’s good. Heck, that’s great. If that’s true, that’s the best thing I’ve heard about any of the Mets’ offseason processes in a long time.

I’m still not sure Bay is the absolute best fit for the Mets, but I know he’s a terrific hitter who managed to mash AL East pitching for the last couple of years and tends to pull the ball, which appears to make him well-suited for Citi Field.

I don’t know if the Mets think Bay is a better fit than Matt Holliday or just feel he’s a better value play, nor do I know how they came to whichever conclusion they made.

Either way, their patience is probably a good thing. Provided Bay is willing to play in New York and interested in making the most money, I doubt his agent allows him to sign elsewhere without giving the big-market team with the hole in left field and a clear need for a strong right-handed bat ample opportunity to beat the deal.

Luckily, Mets fans seem willing to wait it out.

Items of note

John Madden is living like a total baller. “Before him, nine 63-inch TV monitors flanked a 16-foot-by-9-foot screen, all provided free by DirecTV.” Sign me up.

Glenn Beck apparently made a good point about football helmets. Dashiell Bennett’s recap at Deadspin means you don’t have to watch it.

Joe Posnanski makes an exhaustive and convincing Hall of Fame case for Tim Raines. Bonus points for titling it “Make it Raines.”

I agree with Matt Cerrone and Eric Simon. Like I said yesterday, the Mets have not done anything to damage the team yet this offseason, no matter what the papers say.