Exit Sandman?

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“I never listen to that type of music,” Rivera said about “Enter Sandman,” “I didn’t know the song before. Once (Metallica) came and I met the singers. But I like gospel music, Christian music.”

He doesn’t like “Sandman,” but says nothing. He lets them play the song.

“I just don’t care,” Rivera said.

– Filip Bondy, N.Y. Daily News.

With most players, I wish they cared more about their warm-up and walk-up music, even if I realize that becoming a Major League baseball player requires so much time and effort and focus that you probably have to let pursuits like developing awesome taste in music, or spending lots of time considering your at-bat music, fall to the wayside.

With Rivera, though, I kind of like that he just doesn’t care about what song they play when he runs in, and I like that he says it that way, too. I think a big part of the Rivera mystique is that he’s totally unflappable. Of course he doesn’t care. You could play Peter Cetera’s “You’re the Inspiration” and he’d seem just as intimidating to opposing hitters, and he’d still come in and throw his unbelievable pitch over and over again.

What’s happening now happens every now and then it seems, and Yankee fans always freak a bit and wonder if this is finally the end of Mariano Rivera. It isn’t. He allows a couple of singles and a few stolen bases and people allow their short-term memories to overwhelm 15 years of dominance.

Just look at his season line: 235 ERA+, 0.857 WHIP. Both better than his career rates. And he’s 40. The dude is ridiculous.

The only minor cause for concern for Yankee fans might be the hiccup in his strikeout rate — Mo’s whiffing only 6.8 batters per nine innings this season as compared to 9.6 over the prior three years and 8.2 for his career. But even if that holds, if that’s not just a small-sample blip and it turns out he’s been a tiny bit lucky to maintain an ERA so low this year, he still doesn’t walk anybody or allow home runs, and still induces groundballs at a rate above 50%, so he’s likely to continue being awesome. Doubting this man is a fool’s errand.

Kiner’s Korner Revisited: Richie Ashburn

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Fun stuff about the 1962 Mets. Stay tuned ’til the end when he calls batting average overrated, like a good sabermetrician. Easter Egg: Shirtless photo of Jay Hook.

For what it’s worth, I just ventured to the 1962 Mets’ baseball-reference page to gawk at just how bad they were. Holy hell. They managed a team OPS+ of 82 and ERA+ of 82, meaning they hit like 2009 Omir Santos and pitched worse than the late Jose Lima.

Somehow, the 2010 Pirates actually have a team OPS+ of 82 and ERA+ of 81.

Most interesting thing you’ll read today

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Mark Twain was so struck when he first saw that “long, slim, sick and sorry-looking skeleton, with a gray wolfskin stretched over it” that he called it “a living, breathing allegory of Want.” And Twain’s description itself was so vivid, it inspired the animator Chuck Jones to create that perennial failure known to cartoon-loving children everywhere, Wile E. Coyote of Road Runner-hating fame….

There are even hints that the traveling coyotes may have been up to more than just dawdling with a wolf or two. Dr. Kays’s team also found one coyote carrying something similar to domestic dog DNA, suggesting that the question of what exactly an Eastern coyote is may become even more complicated as scientists learn more.

One major complication is that all the species in the genus Canis, to which the coyote belongs, can successfully interbreed. In other words, coyotes (or Canis latrans, meaning “barking dog”) and domestic dogs (Canis familiaris) and every kind of wolf, from the red wolf to the Eastern wolf to the gray wolf (Canis lupus), can mate and produce perfectly healthy pups. No wonder, then, that interactions among these species have led to a genetic mess that researchers sometimes refer to as “Canis soupus.”

– Carol Kaesuk Yoon, N.Y. Times.

Smart money says this is the most interesting thing you’ll read today, all about the mysterious and ominous coyote. First of all, I had no idea that Mark Twain inspired the creation of Wile E. Coyote. Who knew?

Plus, it turns out the coyotes we have in these parts are actually part-wolf and part-dog, whereas the coyotes like the one that jumped out in front of my buddy’s car in Utah are pure coyote.

The big revelation here, to me at least, is that all members of the genus Canis can successfully breed.

Now I have a new life goal: I must somehow mate a wolf and a dachshund. Because what the hell would that look like? Hey! It’s a wiener wolf!

Ike Davis stuff

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The founder of the group, Dan Brooks, said the organization began with six people and has grown to about 1,000. The mission is to educate people about the Holocaust by telling the stories of their families, to provide a forum where the grandchildren of survivors can connect, and to fight intolerance and ethnic violence wherever it exists. They have had speakers from Darfur and Rwanda address the group in the past. The meeting with Davis, Brooks said, was exhilarating.

“The fact that he would take the time to meet with us and share his story was great,” Brooks said. “It really means a lot that he’s willing to do this.”

One member, Leora Klein, said she was the grandchild of four Holocaust survivors and mentioned to the group how important it was that Davis was willing to identify himself with this cause because he was “young, successful and hot.”

– David Waldstein, N.Y. Times.

Excellent feature from Waldstein in the Times about Davis taking time out to share the story of his great aunt, a Holocaust survivor, with a group dedicated to Holocaust awareness.

Davis also told the group how his paternal grandfather, as a member of the U.S. Armed Forces in World War II, helped liberate a concentration camp, and how it warmed him up to the idea of Davis’ father bringing home a Jewish girlfriend.

For what it’s worth, my own grandfather helped liberate a concentration camp, too, and I’m pretty sure was one of the contingent of American troops ordered to march the citizens of Dachau through that camp to show them the atrocious things their government had done. I think. I get his stories jumbled up in my head with a lot of the books I’ve read, since there’s plenty of overlap, and since he really only shared war stories when we had to beg them out of him for school projects. He always preferred to talk about baseball, which I totally respect.

Speaking of: Davis’ strong finish has pulled his OPS+ up to 116, just shy of the Major League average 120 for first basemen, and an impressive mark for a 23-year-old with only 55 games above A-ball before the season started. Factor in Davis’ Gold Glove-caliber defense, the likelihood that he’ll improve at the plate as he develops, and the fact that he’s still a couple years away from even hitting arbitration and he looks like a keeper for the Mets.

Someone asked me earlier this season if I’d trade Davis in an offseason package for the Brewers’ Prince Fielder, an excellent young hitter a year away from free agency. At the time Davis was slumping badly, but even then I was uncertain — reminding the person that a trade for Fielder would be, in truth, a trade for the right to sign Fielder at market rate.

Now, it seems like a no-brainer: No. Sure, there’s a lot more evidence to prove that Fielder can hit like a Major League first baseman than there is for Davis, and it seems unlikely Davis will ever be the same type of offensive force as Fielder, but when you consider Davis’ superior defense and especially the difference in contracts, Davis looks like a more valuable commodity.

Plus Leora Klein thinks he’s hot.

Vendys stuff

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People tell me that the recent trendiness of street vendors, and indeed of the type of inexpensive destination eating that so frequently fuels this blog, is a fad, something prompted by the economy and the Food Network, sure to bubble over, fizzle out or fade away.

But I wonder if there’s a little more to it than that. And maybe I’m biased — or at least I should say I don’t intend to stop traveling distances great and small for good cheap meals anytime soon, just like I was doing long before I maintained a blog, and regardless of if anyone cares to read about it here  — but it strikes me that people need food, and people really enjoy food, and people generally don’t like needlessly spending money on food that isn’t great.

So maybe the interest in good, convenient destination eating isn’t a trend so much as a generation of businesspeople and consumers beginning to understand more ways to harness the awesome power of the Internet. Why settle for tasteless, overpriced pay-per-pound lunch at some bland corporate food bar when you could walk a few blocks to find the pizza truck you heard all about on Twitter? Why suffer another soggy salad when you know the Jamaican Dutchy cart is only an avenue away?

There’s something strange, then, about the Vendy Awards. Here are many of the city’s most convenient food carts, tucked away on Governors Island, accessible only by ferry. Here are various reasonably priced meals, for a flat-rate ticket of $85, all you can eat. Here’s food you eat when you need something quick, with lines that might last a half hour.

But none of those contradictions seems particularly jarring when you’re there. The superficial concerns are far more pressing anyhow. A gluttonous orgy of that magnitude and length requires some serious stamina and no small amount of foresight. Drink lots of water, don’t waste space on booze. Small portions.

Holy hell, why is this beautiful woman waiving that pork pita around in my face? Temptress! I wanted the souvlaki stick. I promised myself I wouldn’t fill up on bread.

Who am I kidding? No amount of planning could have prevented me from stuffing myself turgid with street meat within an hour of my arrival. It started with that souvlaki stick, from Souvlaki GR. Juicy hunks of well-seasoned pork, with tsatziki for dipping. Great, perfect. No time to savor, street food to eat.

Next it was A-Pou’s Taste, pork potstickers, much longer than the standard type you get from Chinese restaurants. Oh lord, they’re incredible. Fried crispy on one side, soft and doughy on the other. And that dipping sauce — just the right touch of sweetness with the soy, mixed with the sriracha I put in there. Wow. Move on!

A stop at Cinnamon Snail, a vegan truck out of Jersey with a bunch of dudes dressed as cops dancing inside. Normally I shy away from anything labeled vegan, but I’m here at the Vendys to enjoy all sorts of foodstuffs, and I figure if they made it this far they’re probably pretty good at it. Plus the dancing guys in cop outfits remind me of GOB’s stripper friends from Arrested Development. “Michael, these men are real dancers; they haven’t done any hot policing.” They have, however, apparently figured out how to make elegantly presented and downright palatable vegan food, though I begin to suspect it is quite starchy as I take my second bite of delicious mashed sweet potatoes. No more of you, tubers! You’re taking up valuable meatspace!

Schnitzel & Things! I like schnitzel, I like things. What could go wrong? Nothing. The owner, Oleg Voss, is a culinary-school trained former banker who learned to love schnitzel while working in Austria. I learned to love schnitzel, well, I don’t remember when I learned to love schnitzel but I was reminded to love schnitzel right there at the Vendys. And to boot, breaded cheeseburger lollipops! Why has no one thought to bread and fry the cheeseburger before? Oleg Voss, you are a visionary. But no time for talk, must eat more.

Next, el Rey de Sabor. The King of Flavor. Empanadas, tamales, quesadillas. Si, por favor. Mucho gusto. Muy bien. ¡Muy picante!

What’s that down there? There’s food out at Mexicue — one of the carts I’ve eagerly anticipated. Is it me, though, or is this amazing-looking BBQ brisket slider only pretty good? Is there spicy slaw on there? It says spicy slaw, but I don’t taste anything spicy? I can’t identify anything I don’t like on here, but I can’t — what’s happening to me? Time to slow down. Take a break.

It’s hot out, in the 80s at least, so I stopped by the Kelvin slush truck for a “governator,” a green tea and ginger slush with real pear mixed in. Then a walk around Governors Island, a weird and fascinating place that looks like a pistachio ice cream cone on the map, and — whoa, what am I drinking? Oh, wow, that’s good. That’s… look, I don’t mean to disrespect 7-11 and all the wonderful things that establishment has done for me in my lifetime, but I don’t even like Slurpees that much anymore; they’re too sweet. Not this though. This is just the right amount of sweet, but crisp enough to refresh on a hot day, with just a little bit of spice from that ginger, yikes. Wow. That’s just, I don’t know what to say. That’s a really good slushy.

Then a delirious amble around the island, past the weird DHARMA-barracks looking cottages, the beautiful mansions, the piers, the chapel, the mini-golf course. What is this place? Why is no one profiting off of all this land? Is something happening here? I read something about this, I’m certain. I need to rest.

I dozed in the shade for a while then made my way back to the Vendys, sampling food from the remaining vendors before heading over to the judges table to watch some celebrity chefs and food writers discuss which delicious food was most delicious. As they debated the merits of El Rey de Sabor, an enthusiastic onlooker yelled, “Best cart here!”

“Hey! Let us do the judging,” snapped a judge. Serious business, this.

I wondered how the judges could remain objective in light of so many variables — the order in which they ate each sample, the presentation of the food, their personal preferences, their own specialties, the heat, everything — but more, I wondered if I could get my hands on another one of those slushies. I left the judges to their judging, but found the line at Kelvin snaking some 50 yards into the sun-drenched field, and a Kelvin employees at the end shooing newcomers away; no more slushies today.

Astoria’s King of Falafel and Shawarma, a delightful dude with delightful shawarma, took home the coveted Vendy Cup and the people’s choice award. Souvlaki GR won the Vendys’ rookie of the year award. Kelvin took the prize for best dessert truck. The Urban Justice Center took in thousands of dollars for the Street Vendor Project, a grassroots organization that provides financial training, legal counsel and education to street vendors.

And I, and hundreds of others, took in lots and lots of food. At some point in there my water bottle opened in my bag and spilled all over my notebook, gluing the pages together. Can’t pretend I was writing much by the end there anyway. Too much gluttony for responsible reporting.

Hot pursuit

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So for whatever reason I’ve found myself listening to the Mets on the radio a bunch the last few days, and Howie Rose and Wayne Hagin seem to maintain that Jerry Manuel is intentionally limiting and manipulating Ruben Tejada’s at-bats to make sure the 20-year-old infielder finishes the season with a batting average above .200.

I have no idea if it’s true, but they’ve said it a few times, and I’ve really got no reason to doubt them.

Didn’t the same thing happen with Ted Williams once? I think so. Except that was aimed at finishing over .400 instead of .200, and it was only on the last day of the season, and Williams refused to sit and wound up hitting .406. So this is just like that, except like a billion times sadder.

Also, honestly: Who decided that whatever mental advantage Tejada gains heading into the offseason with a .200+ batting average will outweigh the benefits he might gain from a few dozen extra Major League at-bats?

I mean, I can’t imagine it matters much one way or another since Tejada’s playing a lot now. But seriously, who makes that call? Is it lame-duck Manuel or lame-duck Omar Minaya? John Ricco? The marketing department?

To me — and this is totally uninformed — it seems like if the Mets were looking to shake the whole “rudderless-ship” perception, they’d at least have someone on board making baseball decisions that had some investment in the team’s future. But then I was basically saying the same thing last year.

After an 0-for-1 day yesterday, Ruben Tejada sits at .199 for the season. The chase continues!

I’m off to Connecticut to talk to some college kids about the Internet. Vendys writeup coming later.