Die Hard

My latest book on tape was the autobiography of Walter Payton, Never Die Easy. It was different than any other recorded book I've read because of the use of a variety of narrators. The format of the book was finalized shortly before Payton died in 1999, and was structured to intersperse Payton's own memories with those of his friends, family and teamates, held together with an overall narration.

While Payton's story is certainly both triumphant and tragic, and while the biography of one of football's all-time greats needs to be told, this project was a disappointment. It is relatively short -- only 7 cassettes, and the first 90 minutes or so is devoted to his final days. Again, a story worth hearing, but not exactly an inspirational way to start. Funnily enough, when I inserted the first cassette I found it was 2/3 of the way through the first side; I wonder if the previous reader gave up.

Undaunted, I slogged through and made my way into his youth and playing career, which covered the next two cassettes, and which was the main point of interest for me getting the book in the first place. The next three cassettes were almost unbearable, as we had to endure endless self-pitying accounts of the trials and travails of his retirement years, most notably his inability to latch onto an NFL expansion team in an ownership / management role. Yeah, Walter, life is hard, and sometimes things don't work out. Too many times I found myself rolling my eyes at the incessant whining of him and others about the 3 or so years he invested in that endeavor, wanting to yell "get over it!" at the tape deck. Only the story's untimate tragic ending kept me from doing so.

The final cassette held some redeeming value, capturing Payton's emphasis on the importance of organ donation, and the comments from his friends and family directly from his private memorial service in 1999. Nonetheless, I was disappointed. By all appearances, this project was rushed to publication too quickly -- some sharp editing would have eliminated the repetition of comments and several factual errors. Beyond that, the overall effect was depressing, not inspiring or uplifting. For a player from a small town in Mississippi that went to a (now) Division I-AA school and went on to set all kinds of records, win a SuperBowl, turn a franchise around and be considered perhaps the most complete player of his generation and perhaps others, I feel that "Sweetness" deserved better than this.

Midsummer Classic

These All-Star Games make me feel old. I not only remember when the National League won the game, but when they would win it every year with regularity.

Like most national broadcasts, it started too late, ran too long, and ran the commercial breaks right up to the windup. Otherwise, a fairly enjoyable game that not only saw Josh Beckett get the win, but Alex Rodriguez make a fool of himself.

Prior to the game, there was a tribute to the great Willie Mays. Richly deserved, to be sure, but I couldn't help but compare it to the thunderous ovation Ted Williams received at the 1999 All-Star Game in Boston. AT&T Park, by contrast, sounded like a cavern, at least from my vantage point in front of the television. Perhaps it was the total lack of buildup by way of introduction given by Fox's Joe Buck -- a brief sentence, nothing more. Compare that to the intro given to the Spinter in 1999, which I almost know by memory --

"Ladies and gentlmen -- he wore the uniform of the Boston Red Sox for 22 seasons. He wore the uniform of the United States Marine Corps for 4-1/2 more. He owned left field at this very ballpark. He hit 521 home runs, including one in his last at-bat. He was the last man to hit .400, and he did so 58 years ago. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome -- the greatest hitter who ever lived -- number 9 -- Hall of Famer -- Baseball Legend -- TED --- WILLIAMS!"

At this point the house on Yawkey Way was literally coming down, as the Kid himself was brought in on a golf cart. That's how you're supposed to introduce a legend, San Francisco.