Knack

A KNACK FOR QUALITY: THE YEARS WITH DEMING

2012-01-09T13:34:00.000-08:00

THE YEARS WITH DEMING

By Richard J. Noyes

I was with the Center for Advanced Engineering Study at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology when I first heard of W. Edwards Deming. I should have known about him prior to 1980 and was grateful to Steve Lohr, NY Times business writer who wrote columns in the business section of the Times on consecutive Sundays: “The Man Who Taught the Japanese” and “More about the Man Who Taught the Japanese.”

I learned that the Deming Prize was the most sought-after and distinguished award that a Japanese company could aspire to and it was named for an American. I also learned that General Douglas MacArthur, architect of U.S. victory in the Pacific and Proconsul of postwar Japan, brought Dr. Deming to Japan to assist him in restoring the country’s economy.

Dr. Deming spoke nationwide to groups of Japanese business leaders. He told them that if they followed his 14 Points of Management and employed statistical process control Japan would quickly become a world leader in output of goods and quality of manufacturing. They followed his advice and Deming’s prophecy became truth. The success was so vast that soon Japan became a prime lender to the U.S.

William Edwards Deming was born with the 20th Century, now popularly known as the American Century. He endured a Wyoming upbringing of hardship, and went on to earn a Yale doctorate in mathematical physics. Deming worked for the U.S. Census Bureau during WW11 and studied under the tutelage of Dr. William Shewhart, best known for the Shewhart Control Chart, one of the major tools of statistical process control. When used correctly, a control chart can help determine whether a manufacturing process is in statistical control.

When systems are in statistical control there is less variations in processes, and the opportunity to produce goods with uniformly high quality is enhanced. When systems are not in control, quality is inconsistent, waste is excessive, rework is needed and productivity slips.

Steve Lohr’s NY Times’ articles mentioned that although Dr. Deming was a legend in Japan, he was little-known in his own country. I saw that we were wasting a valuable asset and set out to do something about it. I called Dr. Deming’s office in Washington, D.C. and described my interest in meeting Dr. Deming to Cecelia Kilian his impressive and capable secretary. She arranged a dinner in Framingham, Massachusetts a week or so later.

Dr. Deming was giving a four-day seminar to a group of local business people. We met at a nearby restaurant. As I walked through the restaurant, populated by seminar attendees, with the tall and ruggedly built Dr. Deming, a specimen at 80, many heads turned and watched him. It was The Look that Hollywood extras give as they watch Jesus pass by on a donkey. That was when I realized that I was in the company of a great man.

After we sat, Dr. Deming’s first question to me was, “Mr. Noyes, what are you doing for your country?”

After attempting to swallow my Adam’s apple I said that one of my responsibilities at MIT was to oversee the production and distribution of videotapes for the continuing education of practicing engineers, scientists, mathematicians and technical managers. Dr. Deming said, “That’s a worthy contribution,” and we were off to a good start. I then said that I thought that studio-produced videotapes of his program of management improvement would make a vital contribution to American industry. He seemed interested and asked many questions, all of which were thoughtful and challenging.

Dr. Deming was a gracious dinner partner who laughed easily and showed a particular appetite for fine red wine, clam chowder and vanilla ice cream. As we prepared to leave, I said, “Dr. Deming, I hope you will do the tapes with MIT.”

He replied in his deep and dramatic voice, “Mr. Noyes, we must do the tapes.”

As we prepared for the first taping a few weeks later, I asked Dr. Deming if he had written and published a book based on his methods and teaching. He said, “I have a book, but I cannot publish it.” I asked, why not, and he said, “Because all of the publishers who have contacted me wish to change my work and I cannot have that. The book must be published exactly as I have written it. No changes will be tolerated.”

Mentally panting like a Great Dane imaging a T-Bone I went out on a long and initially unsupported limb and told him that the Center for Advanced Engineering Study was a publisher, which we were, and that we would publish his book as is. Dr. Deming said, “I accept that, but to show that you mean what you say, you must first publish my book based on printing from typewritten pages that I give you making any transposition impossible.” I replied that we would do that. The limb was growing longer.

Even though I hadn’t seen Dr. Deming’s book, it was clear that he had a logical, steel-trap mind and spoke in fluid sentences and paragraphs. I had no doubt that he was a competent writer and that his story was legend. (“When the fact becomes legend, print the legend.” –The Man who Shot Liberty Valance.) I also knew that my boss, Professor Myron Tribus, Director of the Center, would back me. Myron had been a senior vice president at Xerox, had strong business instincts and was experimental in the best sense of the term. He later became a widely-traveled spokesperson on behalf of Dr. Deming.

Our senior producer, Mrs. Elizabeth DeRienzo, a young woman gifted in multiple ways, quickly established a strong working relationship with Dr. Deming. It’s fair to say that the publishing of the Deming videotapes and books would have been far more difficult without Elizabeth’s leadership and abundant interpersonal and business skills.

Quality in business is like control in pitching. Without them you have nothing, and with them you have everything, or at least a foundation upon which you can build a durable business or career. The years with Deming made me, and I believe many others at the Center, far better businesspeople. I wished that I’d learned from Deming earlier in my career before I worked at Westinghouse and IBM. But since the job before us was to spread Dr. Deming’s philosophy in the interest of improving America’s competitive position, we had to live that philosophy ourselves.

Here’s what happened: We learned that you can’t install quality like an engine or a transmission. The capacity to deliver quality goods and services is a reflection of an organization’s underlying way of doing business, and it must derive from top management because they are the only ones who can implement meaningful change.

To illustrate this point, let’s look at the utility of automotive door bangers. The Pontiac division of General Motors used Dr. Deming as a consultant, and for several years this paid off in improved quality and increased sales. One of the Pontiac executives told me that an early step was to go to Japan and learn from those who had adopted Deming’s methods. He went on the factory floor and asked to see the door bangers and learn how they were trained. The confused Japanese executives and managers didn’t know what he was talking about. The Pontiac man explained that during final inspection his assembly line workers climbed inside the cars with rubber hammers and a black light and whacked away at the doors until they were sealed as best they could.

The Japanese managers found this to be hilarious. They explained that their doors arrived at the plant just in time for assembly and each one fit perfectly. In other words, the Japanese automotive manufacturer worked only with suppliers who could (a) deliver parts on time and (b) deliver parts of consistently quality, or in a state of statistical control fit for use with no appreciable variation. The Pontiac executive also noticed that there were no stacks of doors in inventory. The Japanese manufacturer wasn’t paying for storage. The supplier provided doors and other parts as they were needed. Finally, he saw that the assembly line workers operated in teams and used quality tools like control charts right on the factory floor. The Pontiac man understood that they had a long way to go before reaching parity in manufacturing quality.

The Japanese manufacturers didn’t just focus on quality of manufactured goods, it extended to quality of service as well. For example, in the year that Toyota achieved 50% of GM’s annual revenue they employed 100 people in their headquarters marketing services/order processing department. GM employed several thousand.

Quality pays in many ways. As Dr. Deming said, it is the best way to improve productivity because there is less rework and less waste and fewer workers are needed to repair damage. Quality also pays off in pricing. On many nights, I picked Dr. Deming up at his Boston club. He was on time, except for one night when he was 20 minutes late. He apologized and said that he had received an urgent call from Dr. Toyoda, head of Toyota Motors. (I never learned the reason for the different spelling.) At all events, Dr. Deming seemed preoccupied and I asked if a problem was weighing on him. He said that Dr. Toyoda was upset over the quota set by the U.S. government on the import of Japanese automobiles and wanted Dr. Deming’s advice on what to do. A long pause ensued. Deming was not a man to volunteer anything. He was purely Socratic. Unable to bear not knowing what happened, I asked if he’d mind telling me what advice he gave, Dr. Deming replied, “I told him to raise his prices.”

My first thought was, ‘That’s harsh and also unfair to American consumers.’ But after thinking about it I realized that Deming’s advice was on the money. First, quality does pay off. He knew that American consumers would still buy Toyotas, even at higher prices, if they were confident that the cars would be durable.

To support this notion I thought of friends who car-shopped three years earlier and received an offer too tantalizing to turn down. The local Toyota dealer suggested a whopping discount if they bought two cars. They did, and for the next three years my friends enjoyed six years worth of maintenance-free, trouble-free transportation and swore they would never go back to American cars.

The reputation for quality established over many years by Toyota made them the number one car company in the world and probably the best company overall as well. Alas, they lost track of quality late in the first decade of the new millennium, didn’t respond nimbly, suffered endless vehicle recalls and lost their competitive position. The Big Three caught a break, and when saved by the government’s massive infusion of cash came back with a vengeance to recapture an impressive amount of market share. When Toyota executives visited Professor Tribus’s office in the Center for Advanced Engineering Study at MIT some years earlier they would have done well to pay attention to an amusing, but prescient small, framed saying on his wall: “Entropy is increasing.”

Now, back to the fairness to American manufacturers of Deming’s advice to raise prices on Toyotas? The quota on the import of Japanese cars was imposed around the time of the 1980’s Chrysler bailout. Japanese car manufacturers were killing the American Big Three, and, as shown in the anecdote above, they were killing them on quality.

When I quizzed Dr. Deming further about his advice, he said that quotas never work, they only delay the inevitable, and, in this case, it was misguided government interference under prodding from the Big Three that gave American automobile manufacturers an excuse not to improve their quality and compete long-term with the Japanese. Not long afterward, Dr. Deming began consulting with American car companies and divisions, among them Ford and the Cadillac division of GM, plus the aforementioned Pontiac division. All three soon became more competitive on quality.

Donald Petersen, CEO of Ford from 1985-1989 became a disciple of Dr. Deming and it paid off for Ford launching the company on a path to quality parity with the Japanese. Ford remains number one in quality among the Big Three and continues to improve its international competitive position.

W. Edwards Deming was fearless and bowed to no businessperson irrespective of their position. If you hired Deming, you did things his way or he no longer continued to do business with you. It was all-in Texas Hold ‘em. One of his clients was the Nashua Corporation. The CEO told me that the first meeting with Dr. Deming included the Nashua division managers. A few hours into the meeting the CEO needed to use the toilet. He tried to slip out. Dr. Deming asked where he was going and when told asked him to sit down. You didn’t walk out of a meeting with Deming for any reason. When in doubt wear a diaper.

I mentioned above that Center personnel had to adopt Deming’s methods in the interest of representing him adequately. You may recall that Dr. Deming insisted that we publish his magnum opus as is. Although we agreed we also knew that a book on quality couldn’t go out with any typos. One of Dr. Deming’s favorite anecdotes involved proofreading. He said that you couldn’t use two proofreaders because then no one would have a job.

No book in the history of publishing was proofread so thoroughly. Everybody worked on it. A few minor typos were found, quietly fixed by Cecelia Kilian, Dr. Deming’s marvelous secretary, and pages were sent back to us. Then we employed two freelance proofreaders of impeccable credentials. Each was told that they were the only proofreader and the book they were to work on was written by the American quality guru, W. Edwards Deming. And because of the need to protect the reputations of MIT and Dr. Deming the book could not have any typos. We also gave them a list of idiosyncratic spellings like “aeroplane,” and put them to work. Neither one found a typo. I believe it was Lord Nelson who said something like: “There has been no problem. There is now no problem. And there will be no problem.”

We recognized that quality is hard work, and as someone said it is a journey, not a destination. A brochure was produced, mailing lists were purchased, Quality, Productivity and Competitive Position was printed (we swallowed hard and made an initial printing of 10,000 copies), and the echo came back loud and clear: the American business community wanted to know more about the philosophy of W. Edwards Deming. Multiple reprints totaling 175,000 books flew off the shelves in short order.

Meanwhile, we geared up our existing customer and marketing services and inventory operations. Internal staff remained lean, and we outsourced much of the work to outside vendors we knew from experience to be quality-conscious on an as-needed basis. Flow charts, control charts and other quality management tools papered the walls. Dr. Deming had made the observation that if you can’t flowchart your business operations you don’t really understand them. Moreover, he encouraged the writing of an operational definition for each system or process within that system so that everyone could move forward with constancy of purpose.

We also adopted a “no excuses” business philosophy,” another of Dr. Deming’s teachings. Once a business embraces the idea that excuses are a weak substitute for effectiveness, business practices become more efficient and the tendency is to do things right the first time.

Of course stuff happens, but only 6% of it comes from special causes those imperfections caused by individuals. 94% of errors are in the system and can only be fixed by management. A major part of no-excuses business management is for organizational leaders to stop blaming workers for alleged mistakes. As Dr. Deming pointed out, most workers want to do well. They just need to work in a system that doesn’t contain built-in flaws. Put another way, it was time to stop looking for “Who’s wrong” and start solving “What’s wrong.”

Dr. Deming illustrated the need for managers to create a serviceable system through the parable of the red beads. In this exercise which he called in his usual self-deprecating way “simple, stupid” some willing workers were asked to dip a paddle into a bowl of small white beads and come up with a clean result. Problem was that some red beads representing defects were snuck in. Every time a worker tried to produce error-free work a few red beads were on the paddle.

No matter how hard they tried, the workers failed and had to be let go. Dr. Deming concluded the experiment of the red beads by telling management that the red beads were their responsibility. And what they needed to do, as he commandeered in his rumbling, evangelical voice of God was to, “Get the red beads out of the bowl.”

Another lesson learned from Dr. Deming was to think statistically and make planning and acting on the planning a useful and gratifying experience. One of the major tools used by Dr. Deming was what he called the Shewhart Cycle of Plan, Do, Check, Act. In initiating the PDCA cycle, first Plan what you want accomplish over time. Do something that advances the planning. Check to see that the results of what you did matches the goals set in the planning. Act based on this information to sharpen your initial goals and make them successful.

We also used Tree Diagrams to help identify all the steps needed to be fulfilled in individual processes. Tree diagrams when properly used help eliminate the oops! factor that occurs when something obvious is left out of a process. Fishbone, or Cause and Effect Diagrams, also proved useful in determining how all the causes like the three P’s: People, Procedures, Policies affect actions and results. These are two tools among many we used in our quest to achieve total quality control (TQC). I think it was Emerson who said that cause and effect are two sides of the same fact. Whatever the meaning, the use of management tools helped us to think more analytically and statistically and maintain better control of the system used to further Center goals.

Staff at the Center for Advanced Engineering Study also worked on embracing Deming’s 14 points of management. We did try to create constancy of purpose while adopting the new philosophy and made notable progress. In addition, encouraging progress was made in breaking down barriers between staff areas and instituting a program of education geared to improve our business processes.

The studio-produced videotaping continued and we produced 14 in all. One major mistake was made. We didn’t include discussion topics. This was soon rectified. Business videotapes should be stopped frequently and topics discussed, especially topics that relate to one’s own business operations. Once suggested stopping points and discussion topics were inserted, the utility of the tapes increased manifold.

Videotaping Dr. Deming was a challenge. He would listen to direction and then proceed exactly as he wished. No chance of his looking into the camera. He simply plowed ahead roaming the stage, moving back and forth to various chalkboards and presenting brilliantly. It’s probably fair to say that all people of greatness are eccentric to some degree. No one controlled Dr. Deming. He operated on his own, and we lesser mortals tried to catch as much of his philosophy on tape as we could. One camera operator who was used to more conventional television production was doing a good job following Dr. Deming around the sprawling set. He said to me during a break, ”This man is a loose cannon.”

More to the point, Dr. Deming was tireless in advocating for quality improvement and would do anything to achieve it. He worked long hours seven days a week during his 80’s and into his 90’s. How he looked on camera never occurred to Dr. Deming. The message was the issue and how widely to it could be dispersed was the sole intent. He was an engine of responsibility who once had laser surgery on both eyes in Washington, D.C. in the morning and flew to Detroit for a Ford consultation that afternoon.

During the taping season, Dr. Deming worked on the update of his book, soon to be re-published and re-titled as Out of the Crisis. No more printing from typewritten pages. Drafts flew back and forth between MIT and D.C. And speaking of quality, we used Fedex every Friday and received the marked-up revisions on Monday for several months and they never missed, once.

During this time of intense videotaping and book development the staff worked long hours and was stretched. Dr. Deming was a taskmaster who demanded perfection on short notice. In one regrettable instance I wish I could have taken back, I made the comment under extreme pressure that we were doing our best. Dr. Deming told me in a level tone, “Mr. Noyes, your best is simply not good enough.”

He was right, so we quickened the pace like a squad of Seabees whose slogan in WW11 was, “The difficult we do immediately. The impossible takes a little longer.” And to put a finer point on it, if you embark on a program of continuous improvement which we had done you must accept that your best is not good enough and can always be improved.

In his four-day seminars and in smaller consultancy meetings, attendees would invariably ask Dr. Deming questions along the lines of: “What should I do to implement quality?” Or, “What are the steps do I need to take to get a quality program going in my company?” In other words, what is the best shortcut to quality.

Deming’s typical answer, “You mean you want me to tell you what your job is?” Deming’s philosophy of management and the road to improved quality, productivity and competitive is a rough one not easily navigated. It takes study, hard work and the point of view that meaningful change has no easy fixes and to be successful it must be led by open-minded top management.

If you’ve been brushing up on your Shakespeare you may recall that Horatio, Hamlet’s university friend couldn’t understand or accept the idea of ghosts. So Hamlet encouraged him to expand his thinking: ‘There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.’ Well, there are no ghosts in Deming’s philosophy, but there are untold riches if you’re willing to be open to them.

Enlightened executives like Don Petersen at Ford understood this. Too many other American business leaders never got it and likely never will. Read the tweets, postings, and other social media comments from U.S. management and you will rarely read references to quality. You will see slogans, exhortations and complaints about regulations, but scant mention of what makes customers loyal.

Dr. Deming wanted Out of the Crisis typeset and printed at Cambridge University Press in the UK. Gulp! Fortunately, we discovered that under U.S. Copyright law no more than a few thousand copies of a book could be imported into the U.S. without running the risk of losing copyright. Dr. Deming settled for typesetting in the UK and printing by a branch of Cambridge University Press in the U.S. And this worked out satisfactorily.

At the last count I know of, the Center shipped over 600,000 copies of Out of the Crisis. MIT sent royalty checks to authors semi-annually. Cecelia Kilian, Dr. Deming’s secretary told us that when the checks, also incorporating videotape sales, and well into the six figures, arrived at his office Dr. Deming liked to walk down the block with her to the local bank, stand in line and deposit the check. Invariably, a bank officer would spot Dr. Deming and Cecelia and escort them to his office for a chat. Now that’s quality customer service for you with no regard for dollar value.

Later, we condensed the original set of 14 videotapes into a revised set of four that included graphics and voiceover. We renamed this set of videotapes “The Essential Deming” and distributed over 1,000 copies. This set was used by many small businesses who couldn’t afford the longer and more expensive initial series of Deming videotapes. The set is a classic that succinctly enunciates the Deming philosophy. Elizabeth DeRienzo was the intrepid writer/producer/director.

I do not wish through this retrospective to imply that MIT was the sole entity in introducing W. Edwards Deming to American business. George Washington University in D.C. did an admirable job in running Dr. Deming’s four-day seminars nationwide. Many fine books were written by individuals who worked hard to spread the Deming philosophy. One of several regrets from that period was not working more closely with the other entities that were supporting Dr. Deming’s endeavors.

Shortly after the first set of videotapes was published two graduate students from the MIT Sloan School of Management stopped by and asked if they could watch the tapes. We set them up in a viewing room, and they came by for 14 straight business days until they had watched them all. When finished they stopped in to thank us and I asked, “What did you learn from watching Dr. Deming. One answered, “We learned more in two weeks than we did in two years at the Sloan School.”

I have great respect for the Sloan School and believe it to be one of the top graduate schools of business in the world. And I don’t believe that the two students really meant what they said. What I do know is that W. Edwards Deming had a profound impact on learning and those who “got” him never forgot his lessons.

This retrospective was solely derived from my recollections. Any errors are exclusively mine. Looking back on long stints at IBM, Westinghouse and MIT, the years with Deming was my defining business experience. Dr. Deming made you grow and be better. And although he was tough and demanding to a fault, W. Edwards Deming was a good person, a true patriot and a great man who loved his country. His death in 1993 was an incalculable loss. I hope that his management and quality lessons will never be forgotten and always used by U.S. businesses.

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of whom is a professional pitcher who experiences sudden, extreme, unexplained, career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://amzn.to/u0LtvX http://bit.ly/upp8hX (Nook) http://bit.ly/v1qaGe (Google e-Books)

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Sotheby Vice President

Another recent print and eBook by Richard Noyes and Pamela Robertson: Guts in the Clutch: 77 Legendary Triumphs, Heartbreaks, and Wild Finishes in 12 Sports, with a Foreword by Drew Olson of ESPN. http://gutsintheclutch.com/

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

THE KNACK OF INDEFINABLE PRESENCE

2011-11-30T11:03:00.000-08:00

Richard J. Noyes

Something that has always intrigued me is the innate ability of some people to automatically command attention and respect. This magical quality of natural and unforced charisma is typically possessed by successful people and encompasses professions from art to zoology. Presence is not a physical or learned skill it is incorporated into the person.

When Joe Carlino, former speaker of the New York House of Representatives and later a prosperous lawyer, was in a room for social or business reasons everyone looked to him. He didn’t seek attention. It just happened like filings drawn to a magnet.

Like Joe Carlino, Louis Smullin, former Head of Electrical Engineering and Dean of Engineering at MIT, was not an especially prepossessing man. But when he entered a room the chemistry changed, and Lou took over without fuss or apparent effort. When people with the knack for leadership talk others listen and follow.

When size and personal dynamism are part of the flair the mix becomes more powerful. T. Vincent Learson, the tall, hawk-featured, unvarnished Chairman and CEO of IBM in the early 1970’s led effortlessly. As executive vice president in the early 1960’s, Learson was the driving force behind IBM’s successful multibillion-dollar gamble on the System/360 mainframe computer project. The 360 triumph gave IBM the mainframe lead for 20 years and paved Learson’s elevation to company leadership. With a rare combination of intellect, command, fear and respect, no businessperson dominated a room like T. Vincent Learson.

I was in a Chicago restaurant bar waiting with friends for a table. Michael Jordan was standing a few steps down the bar with two other men. Three young women were sitting in front of Michael. Michael tapped one of them on the shoulder and asked if he could set his drink down on the bar. She turned and screamed, “Oh my God it’s Michael and he touched me.”

When Ted Williams, who was often compared to John Wayne for size and presence, walked into a room or onto the field you simply didn’t see anyone else. With his Hollywood good looks and booming personality, opposing players, umpires and everybody else were completely transfixed. As a Boston sportswriter once wrote, “Ted is tall, tan and terrific.”

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

http://bit.ly/v1qaGe (Google e-Books)

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Sotheby Vice President

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

NAVY SEALS' KNACK

2011-11-21T14:03:00.000-08:00

By Richard J. Noyes

In our extended series on knack, we’ve looked for the most knackish of all professions. It might be the successful head of a big country or corporation or a Nobel laureate, but on a more practical level it’s likely the aptitude needed to become a Navy Seal. (And Navy Seals are in the news again with the recent rescue of an American woman and a Danish man in Somalia.)

But first some background on the type of person who aspires to be a Seal: A 17-year-old neighbor named Joe went into to the city to meet his girlfriend. During his late evening bus ride home to the near suburbs he noticed and ignored a group of five or six rowdy young men around his age in the back of the bus. Soon, and without warning, a member of the group hit Joe over the head from behind with a stick. After being momentarily stunned, Joe grabbed the perpetrator and coldcocked him. The bus driver intervened, kicked the gang, including the revived assailant, off the bus, and Joe rode on to his stop.

Once Joe’s father saw the ugly, bloody gash in his son’s head he got him into the car, and they headed to the emergency room of the local hospital. Coincidentally, they retraced the bus route. They soon stopped at a red light, and Joe saw the miscreants who attacked him across the street hanging outside a diner. He jumped out of the car, threaded through traffic, and waded into the group, fists like pistons, knocking them every which way until they ran off.

A year later, Joe joined the Marines. Following basic training and a tour of duty in the first Iraq war, where he saw action, Joe applied for admission into the Navy Seals’ training program and was accepted.

Among a thousand applicants, four out of five men who start training wash out. It may be the hardest physical training any group anywhere goes through. Many of the recruits are ex-athletes who must survive the pain of “Hell Week” while showing they can help others. They work out 20 hours a day, run 200 miles, sleep four hours total and absorb constant harassment while surviving cold water in underwater demolition drills. Like astronauts, Navy Seals must have the right stuff.

They learn to take out pirates, criminals and terrorists like Osama Bin Laden. Navy Seals’ Team 6, the group who killed Bin Laden and rescued American hostages in Somalia, are the elite of the elite. These men are tough, smart and diplomatic when necessary. They solve problems amid chaos and have the instinct for correct decision-making.

Shortly after Joe entered Seals’ training we moved to a distant city and never learned what happened to him. Everything we knew about Joe¾his presence, physique, intelligence, quiet self-possession and direct, respectful manner predicted success and the potential to be an American hero.

Note: Limited research of the Navy Seals’ training regimen was conducted on the Internet and from other sources. I believe that all of it qualifies as common information. However, if I have inadvertently used someone else’s language and knowledge contributions without attribution, I apologize and I am grateful for the help. Thank you. Richard Noyes

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of whom is a professional pitcher who experiences sudden, extreme, unexplained, career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. (Amazon print and e-Book. Nook and Google e-Books.)

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Vice President, Sotheby

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

CURSE OF THE BILLY GOAT, OR THE LOVABLE LOSERS KNACK FOR LOSING

2011-11-18T11:06:00.000-08:00

By Richard J. Noyes

When they won four pennants and two World Series between 1906 and 1910 the Chicago Cubs, famed for the double-play flair of Tinker to Evers to Chance, were a perennial National League powerhouse. When the Cubs beat Detroit in 1908, it was their second straight World Series victory over the Tigers (and they have waited over a century for another). These successes are more notable given that the participants in the most famous double play combination in baseball history didn’t get along and barely spoke to each other. And Frank Chance was also the manager, not much hand-holding back then.

Due to an outlandish adventure, a late September 1908 game with the New York Giants was called due to darkness and ended in a tie. Except for a “bonehead” play by utility man Fred Merkle the Giants would have won. With a runner on third and Merkle on first with two outs in the bottom of the 9^thinning the batter singled in the winning run, but Merkle forgot to tag second base. Frank Chance stood on second and hollered for the ball. A Giants’ player saw what was happening and threw the ball into the stands. The Cubs retrieved the ball (or got another one), and the umpire called the force-out nullifying the run.

With destiny taking completely over, the Cubs and Giants finished the season a few weeks later tied for the National League lead. The Cubs won the replayed game 4-2 at the Polo Grounds and got into the 1908 World Series. Fred Merkle never got over his blunder, and it haunted him the rest of his life.

Orval Overall and Mordecai “Three Finger” Brown, two memorable names out of baseball’s distant past, won two games each in the 1908 World Series. Brown lost part of his right index finger and injured other fingers in childhood accidents, and the result was a grip that gave his sinker a late dip that elevated him to a Hall-of-Fame career.

AFTER A LONG DROUGHT the Cubs resurged in 1929 and were contenders for the next 10 years. They won the National League pennant at precisely spaced, three-year intervals: 1929, 1932, 1935 and 1938. And were runner-ups to the Yankees for the best record in the big leagues during the 1930’s. Despite these successes, the Cubs were a four-time World Series also-ran.

The Cubs lost the World Series again in 1945 to the Detroit Tigers and haven’t gotten into one since. Prospects were bright in 1969, 1984, 1989, 1998, 2003, 2007 and 2008 but the Cubs came up short in all these chances for the big prize. Like the stock market the Cubs climb a wall of worry, but unlike many long-term investors the club hasn’t gotten a big payoff in over 100 years.

The Cubbies’ faithful grapple for a clue to this seemingly endless injustice; Chicago lore suggests that the Cubs labor under a curse brought on by a Greek tavern owner. Legend has it that William “Billy Goat” Sianis tried to get his goat into Wrigley Field for the 1945 Series and was refused. He laid down a curse on the Cubs by saying that they would never get into a World Series again. Later, in a futile effort to break the curse, a goat was brought into Wrigley Field, but all that got was a few laughs. And the vignettes that follow deliver a few more.

CONNIE, HACK, BABE AND GABBY. Connie Mack became manager of the Philadelphia Athletics in 1901. The “Tall Tactician” was a dignified, scorecard-waving leader in a business suit who won five World Championships and built two dynasties with four pennants in five years from 1910 to 1914 and three in a row from 1929 to 1931.

Mack was just beyond the midpoint of his enduring managerial career when the Athletics met the pre-curse Cubs in the 1929 World Series. The A’s went up two games to one, but the Cubs led game four 8-0 and seemed a sure bet to even the Series. In what became a threadbare Cubs’ script that often borders on farce (the sun got between two fly balls and Hack Wilson’s glove), the A’s rallied hard, scored 10 runs in the seventh inning and won the game, and went on to win the title. Connie Mack managed the Philadelphia Athletics until his retirement at the age of 88 in 1950. He holds the mark for most wins (3,776) by a skipper.

Cubs’ slugger Hack Wilson’s 159 RBI’s contributed mightily to the 1929 National League championship and presaged what he accomplished the following season. Wilson was a five-six fireplug with lightning bat speed and a love for the bottle. It was said he was a “lowball hitter and a highball drinker.” After one all-nighter a teammate asked Hack how he could drink so much and still hit. Wilson said, “When I see three baseballs I swing at the middle one.” A winner of four home run titles while with the Cubs, his 1930 season still inspires awe - 191 RBI (the all-time major league record), 56 home runs (a National League record for 68 years) and a .356 batting average. Alcohol shortened his career and led to his death at age 48.

“For years, it was impossible for me to look at any round outfielder who could hit a long ball without deciding I had found myself another Hack Wilson.” -Bill Veeck

PACKING HEAT IN THE WINDY CITY. Midway through the 1932 season shortstop Bill Jurges was shot twice in a Chicago hotel room by a jilted girlfriend with a less-than-perfect aim. The wounds were fixed, and Jurges rejoined the team a few weeks later. The Cubs won the National League pennant, but the shooting was not a good World Series omen.

In 1949, ex-Cub Eddie Waitkus visited Chicago with his new team, the Philadelphia Phillies. He was shot and seriously injured in the Edgewater Beach hotel by an unhinged female stalker who became obsessed with Waitkus during his time with the Cubs. He survived to play again. It is generally believed that the book and film The Natural was loosely based on the Jurges and Waitkus shootings.

Getting back to 1932, The New York Yankees swept the Cubs in the World Series (minus Hack Wilson who had been traded to the Brooklyn Dodgers). Among a barrage of Yankee hits, Babe Ruth’s “called shot” made the series memorable. In the fifth inning of game three Ruth pointed to the center-field bleachers. On the next pitch he launched a mammoth home run in that direction. The Babe was getting a riding from the Cubs’ bench, and some say he gestured toward the dugout. However, film of the incident appears to show Ruth pointing toward the outfield. Posterity likes that version better.

TIGERS’ REVENGE. In 1935, the Cubs met the Detroit Tigers for the first time since they beat them consecutively in the World Series of 1907 and 1908. Led by the hitting of Pete Fox, Charlie Gehringer, and Mickey Cochrane, who singled and scored the winning run in the ninth inning of game six, the Tigers won the Series four games to two.

The highlight of the 1935 Cubs’ season was future Hall-of-Fame catcher Gabby Hartnett’s “Homer in the Gloamin’.” The Cubs and Pittsburgh Pirates battled for the pennant in the final days of the season when player/manager Hartnett beat the Pirates with a two-out, 0-2 count home run onto Waveland Avenue in the gathering Wrigley Field darkness as the game was about to be called. The Cubs went on to win the pennant on the most famous home run in their history, but, in a repeat of 1932, the New York Yankees swept them in the World Series.

CLAWED AGAIN. The 1945 World Series began less than two months after the end of World War Two. Organized baseball’s ability to survive had become increasingly precarious through each succeeding year of the war as the pool of able-bodied players steadily depleted. Since the Cubs and Tigers had the deepest pools, it was no surprise that both teams led their leagues.

The sizzling hitting of perennial all-star third baseman “Smiling Stan” Hack (he was also the Cubs’ hitting star of the 1938 World Series loss to the Yankees) and the pitching of Hank Borowy (who was acquired in mid-season from the Yankees) propelled the Cubs into game seven. Then, in a losing wager, they pitched Borowy on one day’s rest; he was chased, and the Cubs lost another World Series. Their search for the big prize was 100-years old in 2008. (Has any other team, in any major sport, gone 100 years without winning a title?)

The overall quality of play in the 1945 World Series was spotty, with the two teams committing a bunch of errors of commission and omission. In one of these miscues, the over-40-years Cub Jack Hostetler tripped and fell rounding third base costing the Cubs a key run. In those pre-television days, admired New York sportswriter Bill Corum made the most incisive summation on radio, “We’ve had everything in this series but a wedding at home plate.” Corum’s remark was likely an indictment of bush league play. Before the war and for several years after, weddings at home plate were commonplace in the minor leagues.

Hank Wyse won 22 games for the Cubs in 1945, often on only two days rest. This regimen took its toll on his arm. In 1946 he had elbow problems and went to see a doctor. When Wyse returned to the clubhouse a teammate asked him what the doctor found in his elbow. Wyse said, “bottlecaps.”

LIPPY AND THE MET’S HEX. After a 24-year drought, Chicago cruised toward the 1969 National League playoffs. The Cubs had solid starters with Ferguson Jenkins (the only member of the 3,000-strikeout club to have surrendered fewer than 1,000 walks), Bill Hands and Ken Holtzman. And with slugging outfielder Billy Williams and the solid infield play and hitting of Ernie Banks and Ron Santo, the Cubs were nine and a half games up on the New York Mets in mid-August. Then the Cubs began to melt like ice cream in the bleachers.

For many Cubs’ fans, daytime baseball was a new villain in the narrative of Cubs’ curses. In 1969, Wrigley Field was still without lights, and the Cubs were the last team in baseball to play only day games at home. Manager Leo Durocher had a well-established reputation for preferring a set lineup composed of experienced veterans, and he had little patience for grooming rookies. As a result, and with limited exceptions, Durocher played the same eight-man lineup of war-horses, day in and day out, throughout an enervating Chicago summer. The consequence of this strategy was an exhausted starting lineup that had nothing left to give down the stretch. Things got even more painful in September when the “Amazing Mets,” who finished last in the National League in 1968, won ten straight. The Cubs lost eight in a row and finished the season eight games back. In one of these losses at Shea Stadium, a black cat ran in front of the Cubs’ dugout and right by Ron Santo waiting in the on-deck circle. If 1969 wasn’t the worst late-season disintegration, it ranks down there among classic baseball flops.

The 1966-1970 Cubs may be the only team to play together that long with three future Hall of Fame players: Banks, Jenkins, Williams, plus Ron Santo who should be in the Hall and never win a pennant.

CALIFORNIA DREAMING. In 1984, Cubs’ second baseman and future Hall-of-Famer Ryne Sandberg was the National League MVP. His inspired play and Rick Sutcliffe’s masterful pitching helped the Cubs finish first in the East (39 years after the World Series loss to the Tigers). Only a few pitchers have won 20 games in a season while pitching for two different teams. Rick Sutcliffe is one of them. He came to the Cubs during the 1984 campaign with a 4-5 record and made it a career year by going 16-1 and winning the National League Cy Young Award as a unanimous selection.

The Cubs’ playoff opponent was the Western Champion San Diego Padres led by Tony Gwynn who hit .351 to win the first of eight batting titles. The Cubs won the first two games at home, and the final three games were in San Diego. All the Cubs had to do was win one more and they would capture the National League pennant. They surely wouldn’t lose three straight, would they?

Their second best chance came in game four, but the Padres’ Steve Garvey spoiled the Cubs’ hopes with a walk-off home run in the last of the ninth inning. The image of Garvey circling the bases with his brawny right arm held high looms large in the Cubs’ collection of bad dreams.

In their best chance, the Cubs led in the seventh inning of game five, but were overtaken by a San Diego rally in which the key event was an unusual Chicago error committed by the typically sure-handed first baseman, Leon Durham. The inning appeared to have come to a harmless conclusion when a routine ground ball that should have been the inning’s third out was hit directly to Durham. When Durham bent down to pick up the baseball, it mysteriously skidded off his glove and rolled into the outfield, and it was Katie bar the door from there. And what turned out to be the reason for the error? It seems that Durham had been drinking Gatorade in the dugout and some of it spilled onto his glove. Because Durham had been less than fully attentive while wiping it off a residue remained, and when that dried it left a sticky surface. When the routine ground ball came in contact with that sticky place, it unexpectedly skidded off Durham’s glove, resulting in the fatal error. Why didn’t the stickiness help retain the baseball. Hey, it’s the Cubs, also known to many of their fans as “The Lovable Losers.” A string of hits followed, and the Cubs didn’t get into the playoffs again until 1989.

THE BOYS OF ZIMMER. Paced by 19-game winner Greg Maddux, the Cubs won the National League Eastern division in 1989 and met the San Francisco Giants for the pennant. The Cubs, known as “The Boys of Zimmer,” so-named for manager Don Zimmer, split the first two games in Chicago. The Cubs led by a run in the seventh inning of game three in San Francisco when the Giants got a runner on. Cubs’ pitcher Rick Sutcliffe went to 2-0 on the next batter, and Zimmer lifted him. (Sutcliffe was in the final year of his successful career and taking lots of time between pitches. When asked why later, Sutcliffe said he was waiting for the pain to leave his shoulder.) Reliever Les Lancaster wasn’t told, or didn’t understand, or something that the count was 2-0, thought it was 3-0, and delivered a cookie to the Giants’ Robby Thompson who cowtailed it for a game-winning home run. The Giants went on to win the next two games and the pennant, and the Cubs waited nine years for their next chance.

1998. The Cubs and San Francisco Giants (led by future Cubs’ manager Dusty Baker and National League Manager of the Year in 1998) ended the regular season with identical records and met in a one-game playoff game for the National League wild-card berth that the Cubs won. The Atlanta Braves then swept them in the first playoff round. Former Cub (why did they ever let him go?) Gregg Maddux won game three.

“The last time the Cubs won a World Series was in 1908. The last time they were in one was in 1945. Hey, any team can have a bad century.” -Tom Trebelhorn, 1990’s Cubs’ manager, who was fired soon after he said it. (Longtime Cubs’ announcer Jack Brickhouse is credited for coining “Any team can have a bad century.”)

SCAPE, RATHER THAN BILLY, GOAT. The Cubs most promising chance for a crown since the 1945 World Series and the 1969, 1984, 1989, and 1998 season-ending disappointments came in 2003. They upset the Braves (avenging the 1998 playoff sweep) in the National League Division Series to win their first post-season series since 1908.

In the 6^th game of the NLCS, the Cubs led the Florida Marlins three games to two. Cubs’ star Mark Prior pitched into the 8^th inning with a 3-0 lead and one out. Was this the year? Was the curse finally lifted?

After a leadoff double, the Marlins caught a break. A high fly near the left-field stands might have saved the inning. The ball went foul into the stands and was deflected by a fan. The fan didn’t reach out over the field. He did what anyone else would have done. He went for a souvenir. What the fan didn’t see was Cubs’ left fielder Moises Alou leaping with his glove high above and inside the railing. Alou might have made the catch if the fan hadn’t interfered, but the fan’s attempt didn’t cause the Cubs subsequent implosion (although the hateful abuse poured down upon the poor devil showed that the crowd wanted a scapegoat). The reprieved batter walked. A single scored a run. Prior looked perturbed. The next Marlins’ hitter grounded to short, and the usually sure-handed Alex Gonzalez booted what looked like an inning-ending double play.

“When troubles come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.” -William Shakespeare

Then future Cub Derrek Lee tied the score with a two-run double, and Prior was finally lifted. Manager Dusty Baker brought in reliever Kyle Farnsworth who didn’t have much time to get loose, eventually gave up a three-run double, and the Cubs lost what turned into a one-sided game.

The hugely talented Kerry Wood started game seven for the Cubs and didn’t have it that day. Led by their dominating right-hander Josh Beckett, the upstart Marlins went on to beat the Yankees in the World Series. (2003 was the year when the fans’ amusement with Cubs’ failures turned to frustration.)

THE DEFENSE RESTS. The score was 1-1 after six innings in game one of the 2007 best-of-five Division-Series against the Arizona Diamondbacks. Cubs’ ace Carlos Zambrano had given only a few hits on 85 pitches. Because they couldn’t do much with him, the Diamondbacks were delighted when manager Lou Piniella lifted Zambrano, presumably to rest him for a game four. Arizona homered off the reliever in the seventh and added another run to seal the win. There never was a game four.

SORCERESS. In 2008, the Cubs made their first back-back trip to the post-season since 1910; the Cubs and White Sox got into the playoffs during the same year for the first time since the 1906 World Series; and both teams lost in the opening round.

Expectations were moderate for the White Sox and lofty for the Cubs who topped the National League with 97 wins. They met the Los Angeles Dodgers, newly led by ex-Yankee manager Joe Torres and slugger Manny Ramirez who hit .396 for L.A. following a blockbuster, mid-season trade from the Red Sox. The Dodgers dispatched the Cubs Buenos Dias, Buenas Tardes, Buenas Noches.

The Hundred Years’ War rages on as the vaporous curse further envelops the Friendly Confines; a nostrum requires that She of the Evil Eye expunge the malediction by sacrificing a goat and black cat on the sacred plot between the mound and home plate.

(Selected credit by permission from the National Baseball Hall of Fame, Cooperstown, NY and Library of Canada for sources in original story excerpted and abridged from Guts in the Clutch, see below.)

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of whom is a professional pitcher who suffers from sudden, extreme, unexplained, career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

SKATING KNACK OR SOME GIRLS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN

2011-11-17T09:12:00.000-08:00

(This story was excerpted from Guts in the Clutch. See below)

Richard J. Noyes

Women’s figure skating tends to get a bad rap in the sports world. Is it sport? Is it art? Hard-nosed sports columnists argue for the latter because it makes good copy, but they miss the point that elite figure skaters are top-notch athletes. The ability to jump and spin in the air four times then land successfully on a ¼-inch steel blade is no small feat, cultivated over years of dedicated training. A four-minute program with as many as eight triple jumps, spins, footwork, and artistry may look pretty but falls flat (literally) unless the skater is a killer athlete.

Only a handful of American women have risen to the top in amateur figure skating. Think Tenley Albright, Peggy Fleming, Dorothy Hamill and Michelle Kwan. These winners have a unique combination of athletic talent, grace, guts, titanium nerves, and luck. It’s an unpredictable sport, with many a favorite having blown a jump and dashed a dream in a split second.

The 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City offered one of most dramatic gold medal rounds in figure skating history. Michelle Kwan came in as the undisputed favorite with four world and six U.S. titles and a burning desire for Olympic gold having been edged out by Tara Lipinski four years earlier at the Nagano Winter Games where she settled for silver.

Kwan aced the short program and came into the long in first place over Russian Irina Slutskaya and American Sasha Cohen. Sixteen-year-old American Sarah Hughes, who had never placed higher than third in international competition, was fourth and not considered a promising challenger. The gold seemed a lock for the favorite Kwan but she, and everyone else in the arena and watching on TV, knew that given a complicated scoring formula, any of the top four could grab the gold by winning the long program. And as happens in big competitions the one with the most to lose buckled under the pressure. Kwan seemed tense and tentative when she started her program, eventually two-footing a landing and falling on another. Cohen and Slutskaya had a number of shaky moments as well.

Out of nowhere dark horse Sarah Hughes, who said later that she had nothing to lose and just wanted to have fun, skated the program of her life. Her technically demanding free skate (she cleanly landed two triple-triple combinations) and beyond-her-years artistry put her on the gold medal stand. Years of practice delivered liquefaction as a relaxed Sarah entered a state of incandescent grace.

Slutskaya’s performance pushed Kwan out of second place, and the most successful skater in history had to settle for bronze at the Olympics that was supposed to be her golden moment.

Like most accomplished athletes, Sarah Hughes was blessed with intelligence. This gift coupled with a winning personality and her improbable Olympic triumph made hera ubiquitous media presence for several weeks, and she became a certified American legend. Hughes was named 2002 Sullivan Award winner and United States Olympic Committee SportsWoman of the Year. After graduating from high school with honors she continued her education at Yale.⁹

SOURCES

9 Courtesy of the United States Olympic Committee,

http://www.usoc.org/26_1141.htm, available as of 1/5/06

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of which is a professional pitcher who experiences sudden, unexplained, career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

POLITICAL KNACK: JAMES MICHAEL CURLEY

2011-11-15T13:35:00.000-08:00

By Richard J. Noyes

James Michael Curley, The Rascal King, from the book of the same name was also the inspiration for the movie “The Last Hurrah.” Curley was elected alderman while in prison, and served part of his fourth term as mayor of Boston while again serving prison time. In between, he was elected to the U.S. Congress four times and to the governorship of Massachusetts in 1934.

Despite the notoriety, Curley was beloved by the Boston Irish who frequently elected him in landslides. Like his counterpart, New York mayor Jimmy Walker, Curley was a convincing orator who could charm the birds out of the trees. By 1956, James Michael Curley had been out of office for six years, and although no longer a political candidate he remained a Boston icon. Many years ago, one of my Boston relatives, who was a skilled diarist, showed me the following story to use as I wished. It is a poignant look at political life from a bygone era.

On the afternoon before the 1956 presidential election I got a call from my wife’s uncle, Brendan McGrath, who said he and his wife Kelly were going to attend a wake and wondered if Kate and I wanted to come along.

I said, “Not especially, who died?”

“It’s a political wake of sorts, the Democratic election-eve rally, if you can call it that. Adlai Stevenson will be there, Jack Kennedy, Foster Furcolo, others.”

“Hold a second, Brendan . . . Kate, want to go to the Democrats’ rally with Brendan and Kelly?”

“It was in the Globe. Can we get in?”

“Brendan, Kate wonders if we can get in?”

“Crowd control won’t be a problem; 7:45 in the Statler lobby.”

Kate and I walked down Commonwealth Avenue under a big, quiet November sky. Not many residents of the elegant buildings would be joining us at the Statler. Given the level of cocktail and dinner parties, it appeared that Eisenhower’s election to a second term was being celebrated early.

We admired the glowing chandeliers and the burnished wood of the curved staircases, floor-to-ceiling, built-in bookcases and intricate mantelpieces. Fine artwork provided backdrop for the milling guests in their finery. Kate spotted a 19th-century clipper ship painting she thought was by one of the Stubbs.

Brendan and Kelly were in the center of the Statler lobby just finishing a conversation with Senator John Kennedy and two other men. Just as he turned away, Kennedy flashed a winning smile. Kate said, “Oh, he’s gorgeous.”

The McGrath’s, dressed to the nines and specimens of note in their late forties, looked like they should have been over on Commonwealth Avenue hosting one of the Republican shindigs. Kate asked, “What did you say to get that big grin from Senator Kennedy?”

Kelly said, “I asked if he was going to run for President in 1960.”

Brendan said, “You can bet the farm he will. Joe’s already working on it.”

I asked, “Who’s Joe?” and immediately realized I knew the answer if I’d only thought before speaking.

“Jack’s father, Joseph P. Kennedy, he’s the power behind the throne.”

The Imperial Ballroom would not be the site of Stevenson’s coronation. The mood was blue in the half-filled hall. Empty chairs circled the stage. Bunting hung limply from the balcony railing, and the cut-glass chandeliers gave light without hope. A tinny band tootled a lifeless rendition of “Happy Days Are Here Again” as the dignitaries filed onstage. The applause and cheers were forced and hollow.

As gubernatorial candidate Foster Furcolo sat down, a leather-lunged supporter hollered, “You got it, Foster.” Many applauded that not-too-risky prediction in heavily democratic Massachusetts.

Adlai Stevenson was introduced as, “The next President of the United States” and gave a game, witty speech. We hoped that Kennedy would speak, but he wasn’t about to identify too closely with this losing proposition.

Brendan leaned over and deadpanned, “I wonder if Jack regrets not being Adlai’s running mate?” Kennedy made a bid at the 1956 Democratic convention but lost to racket-busting Senator Estes Kefauver. Brendan said later that the run was likely a ploy by Joe Kennedy to position Jack as a national figure.

Kennedy’s going-through-the motions appearance for Stevenson on this night was a far cry from his election-eve speech at Faneuil Hall in 1960: “I run for the Presidency of the United States because it is the center of action.” That kind of open declaration was refreshing and would be unheard of in the plastic politics of the 21^st Century

I saw Kelly smiling up toward the balcony overlooking the stage, and looked up to see James Michael Curley blowing a kiss that she returned. He gestured for her to come on up, and she signaled, yes, when it’s over. Brendan and Curley then exchanged waves. Curley, too controversial to be allowed on stage, sat alone, erect, his handsome profile topped by a mane of white hair. Kelly leaned toward Brendan and said in breathless, giddy voice I had never heard before, “I so hope he speaks.”

Late in the droning evening Curley was introduced. He remained seated during the standing ovation and acknowledged it with an amused smile and a few nods. Then he spoke for about five minutes. It was short on content and long on delivery. His syntax and enunciation were models of elocution. At eighty-one, Curley remained a dulcet-toned, sonorous, compelling presence.

Brendan whispered to Kelly, “Himself is in good form tonight.”

Following a dispirited encore of “Happy days . . . ” and Stevenson’s final wave and exit, we threaded through the seats, up the stairs and met Curley. He shook Brendan’s hand and hugged Kelly with feeling. She kissed his cheek and held his arm. Brendan introduced us:

Curley: Are you dark Irish or part Irish?

Kate: I hope it’s the best part, Governor.

Curley (laughing): I see the blarney came along with it.

Curley: Your name’s Matthew Jameson. Do you live in Boston?

Jameson: Yes, sir.

Curley (with mock seriousness): Are you a registered Democrat?

Jameson: Yes, sir.

Curley (with hand on my shoulder): Be sure to do your civic duty tomorrow, vote the straight ticket, and bring out the rest of the Jameson’s (wonderful smile and laugh from Curley as he patted my shoulder).

As Curley turned to Kelly, Brendan said, “We have some business to discuss with the Governor. I’m very sorry, but could we meet at the St. James’ exit in about ten minutes?”

Kate and I celebrity-watched among the clusters of Democrats in the Statler lobby and then waited in the vestibule of the St. James’ Street entrance. Two limousines and three police motorcycles idled at the curb. A small crowd around us buzzed that Stevenson was coming out soon. Even with certain defeat hanging over the scene, we felt a rush of excitement when his entourage swept across the lobby. The glass-paneled double doors burst open, and Stevenson, surrounded by handlers and secret service agents, whisked by. He was a trouper. But even with that marvelous smile, he looked like someone putting on a brave face for the cameras while being escorted to jail. Adlai also looked like he was thinking, “What the hell happened.” He happened to glance at me, and his eyes reminded me of a frightened animal. Most of all he struck me as being tired, way down deep. The doors slammed and the limos were sirened away.

Brendan said from behind us, “Makes you want to forget about getting into politics, doesn’t it?

We cut through the Public Garden talking mostly about local political races before saying goodnight at the corner of Charles and Beacon. Kate and I were alone in our thoughts most of the way up Marlborough Street to our apartment. I mentioned that Kelly seemed quiet and distant, and when Kate just nodded I let it go.

Lying in bed, Kate said, “There’s something about Curley and Kelly.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the easy rapport, affection. The way they look at each other. She even looks like him: mouth, eyes, amazing resemblance. Kelly told me she was adopted; before that, a street kid who played on the tracks under the Mass. Avenue bridge. She showed me a photo of her mother who was beautiful, like Kelly. I remember her name, Lillian Holdaway. She lived with a man named Daddy Andrews who wasn’t Kelly’s father. Lillian never told Kelly who her real father was but said he was a famous man.

Kelly told me that one night she awoke to hear her mother crying. Daddy Andrews was away. They went to Boston City Hospital in a taxi. As they wheeled Lillian through swinging doors, Kelly said her mother looked back at her and smiled. She never saw her again. Kelly wept as she told me that she walked home to their apartment over the Fenway Theater on Mass. Avenue and cried herself to sleep alone. The next morning a big car arrived, and a family took her to a new home on Beacon Hill. Daddy Andrews had returned to the apartment and told Kelly it was best to go with them. She never learned how the Sullivan’s knew about her. They just said that a call came in the night to pick her up the next day. They adopted her, and her life went from the streets to private education and luxury and lots of love. She was eight.”

“Is that all you know?”

“Yes, but I have some notions and hope someday when she’s open to it to ask Kelly more questions.”

“Do you think . . . ?”

“I don’t know what to think, Matt, but I know I can’t think anymore tonight; let’s go to sleep and dream of thousands of Jameson’s, McGrath’s and Sullivan’s voting for Adlai.”

“I think I’ll dream about Jack running in 1960.”

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations. (more)

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of which is a professional pitcher who suffers sudden, unexplained, career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Real Estate Vice President

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

“I’LL BET THEY STILL COULDN’T KNOCK HIM DOWN”

2011-11-10T13:34:00.000-08:00

A Beer with the Raging Bull

Richard J. Noyes

Marcel Cerdan of France knocked out reigning champion Tony Zale in 1948 to win the world middleweight crown. Cerdan defended his title against Jake LaMotta “The Bronx Bull,” in 1949. The heavily favored Cerdan injured his shoulder in the first round, fought with one hand, and lost on a TKO in the 10^th round. A rematch was scheduled for 1950, but first some background.

We decided to wash down our New York evening with a late beer at P.J. Clarke’s. As we approached on 55^th Street, and the little redbrick building came into view across 3^rd Avenue, Gia said, “Look how it sits there so stoically among the tall filing cabinets.”

I was still smiling as we edged into the noisy crush. After threading to the end of the crowded bar near the garbage tray where it was quieter, we checked out the front-room action, ordered beers, and bantered with the bartender. Suddenly, he straightened up with the dumbstruck look and head turn of a Hollywood extra watching Jesus pass by on a donkey. The Look. Turning back to us, he asked in a voice combining reverence and delight, “Did you see who that was?”

Gia and I agreed later that we instantly thought the bartender was referring to Jackie Onassis. Since, a few years back, another Clarke’s bartender confided to us that the main reason Ari married Jackie was to insure that people recognized him at his front-room table. We caught a glimpse through the smoke and throng of a group filing into the back room. After we shook our heads no, the bartender said, “That was Jake LaMotta.” We talked about Jake’s fights, the movie’s realism, Scorcese's direction, and then Jake turned up at the bar.

“Who’s gonna buy me a beer?”

I said, “I will, Champ.”

“Thanks, Pal, a Bud.”

The bartender asked, “How come you’re out, Jake?”

“The wife’s in Jersey.”

Daringly, Gia inquired, “Which wife is that, Jake?”

“Fourth, but don’t tell her that.” Laughs and swigs on beers all around.

“Jake,” I asked, “Who did you win the title from?”

“Marcel Cerdan, the Frenchman. He was killed in the plane crash on the way back for the rematch, a great fighter. I met his girlfriend too, that little singer.” Jake held his right hand at shoulder height.

The bartender offered, “Edith Piaf.”

Jake grinned and said, “That’s right, yeah, they were some couple.”

As Jake pulled on his bottle of beer, I said, “A friend saw the February ’51 title fight with Sugar Ray Robinson in Chicago Stadium. He said he was half-dead from pneumonia but didn’t go to the hospital until the fight was over.”

“Hey, that’s good. It was February ’51. I was half-dead, too. He almost killed me. Sugar Ray was best man at my third wedding, a nice guy, a good friend. He was the best fighter pound for pound who ever lived.” It was a thrill to hear Jake LaMotta say that about Sugar Ray. Better than a hundred sportswriters banging it out.

Gia asked, “Did you ever fight Rocky Graziano?”

“No, we were signed, but he broke his hand training. I woulda killed the bum.” Jake smiled and said, “Actually, we’re good friends, but his wife won’t let him out anymore.” While Jake was shaking hands and kidding with a passing admirer, I was thinking how Rocky had been a cheerful regular and unofficial host at Clarke’s for years. When Jake turned back to us, I asked what he thought of “Raging Bull.”

“It won the Academy Award, didn’t it?”

“How did you like De Niro’s performance?”

“He won the Oscar, didn’t he?”

Jake was smaller than I expected, around five seven and lean, not the physique of the fearsome mid-century brawler who had never been knocked down, or later fatty. Unlike most people, Jake didn’t stand obliquely when conversing. He faced you dead-on, balanced on the balls of his feet, hands hanging at his sides, ready. I pasted on a pleasing smile, adopted deferential body language, and decided to phrase further questions more carefully. In particular, I decided against asking him about an earlier fight he was alleged to have thrown for the mob.

Jake’s gaze was intense, almost staring, good concentration. He became distracted between questions, yet the responses were quick and pungent. Except for the somewhat-flattened nose, his white, baby-soft-looking skin was surprisingly unmarked, with very little scar tissue around the eyes and mouth. Jake didn’t look like he had gone through all those brutal ring wars we watched, listened to, and read about.

Unexpectedly, he said, “I gotta go.” The crowd had thinned, and the three bartenders on duty gathered around, hands on each other’s shoulders, leaning over the bar toward Jake, an ideal tableau for an Edward Hopper painting. They said in turn, with caring:

“See you next time, Jake.”

“Be careful, Jake.”

“Safe home, Jake.”

We watched Jake’s rolling, light-on-his-pugilist’s feet exit down the room and out onto 3^rd Avenue. One of the bartenders said, “I’ll bet they still couldn’t knock him down.”¹

---

“The town that has no ceiling price, the town of double-talk. The town so big they named it twice. Like so: New York, New York.” –Christopher Morley

(This story was excerpted from Guts in the Clutch: 77 Legendary Triumphs, Heartbreaks and Wild Finishes in 12 Sports)

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one is a professional pitcher who experiences sudden, unexplained, career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

KNACK FOR THE LIFE AQUATIC

2011-11-09T08:49:00.000-08:00

(This story was excerpted from Guts in the Clutch. See below)

Richard J. Noyes

Jason Lezak, former University of California, Santa Barbara swimmer was a 2004 and 2008 Olympic gold medalist. Lezak’s greatest moment came in the 2008, 4 X 100 freestyle final when he accomplished not the impossible but the unthinkable. By moving to the right side of his lane and drafting on the leader, he made up a half-body length on 100-meter freestyle individual gold medalist Alain Bernard in the final 25 meters to give the U.S. another gold medal in Beijing.

Like running speed, the ability to displace water at a world-class level can be improved through coaching and practice, but you can either run or swim faster than most people or you can’t. It’s an ingrained quality.

Jason Lezak not only had the knack for speed, he also had the ingenuity to invent a strategy under pressure, like drafting on the leader, to win the race of his life for his teammates. Lezak’s heroics also gave Michael Phelps, another swimming savant who was born for the life aquatic, his eighth gold medal at the 2008 Olympics, a record that surpassed American swimmer Mark Spitz’s seven at the 1972 Munich Games.

Note: During his pre-Olympic years, Spitz was fortunate to have had three of the greatest swim coaches the United States has known: Sherm Chavoor, Doc Counsilman, and George Haines.¹³ There is a story, and it may be apocryphal, about Mark Spitz swimming for the University of Indiana under the coaching of the legendary Doc Counsilman. Although he was a fish once in, Spitz didn’t like the initial plunge. So Doc would chase him around the pool until Spitz finally jumped in. In the whatever works department, perceptive teachers find ways to reach talented athletes, especially temperamental ones like Mark Spitz.

¹³ Courtesy of the International Swimming Hall of Fame,

  http://www.ishopf.org/77spitz.html, available as of 10/28/05

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

MARATHON KNACK AND DON'T LOOK BACK

2011-11-07T09:17:00.000-08:00

MARATHON KNACK AND DON’T LOOK BACK

(Excerpted from Guts in the Clutch; see below.)

Richard J. Noyes

In 2011, when Geoffrey Mutai of Kenya set the world (unrecognized) record in Boston of 2:03:02 and then broke the New York record at 2:05:06, thoughts of a marathon run under two hours have resurged. It nearly happened 57 years ago at the 1954 British Empire Games in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

In a sad and strange incident, Jim Peters, the top-drawer British marathoner, entered the stadium 15 minutes ahead of the closest contenders and was, despite running on an intensely hot day, on pace for a new world marathon record, and a possible, under-two-hours wonderwork.

Peters stumbled running down the ramp into the stadium, his legs failed, and he collapsed onto the track with one lap to go. Suffering from heat prostration, Peters tried to rise but couldn’t; it was a heartbreaking sight as he crawled piteously trying to finish the race. When he could no longer make forward progress, and as other runners passed him, attendants lifted Peters and carried him off the track.

You may have seen film of the legendary Roger Bannister-John Landy mile at the same 1954 British Empire Games. Bannister, a British medical student in his mid-twenties, had broken the long-standing and seemingly insurmountable four-minute-mile barrier earlier that year. Australian John Landy lowered the record a few months later. Now the first two sub-four-minute milers were matched in a dream contest.

Landy led by five-to-ten yards throughout most of the race. In the final turn, with the huge crowd rackety, Bannister kicked to move just behind Landy’s right shoulder. But he didn’t seem to be able to pass him on the outside. On the final straightaway, about 60 yards from the tape Landy was curious about where Bannister was, and he glanced over his left shoulder. Bannister passed him on the right.

The late peek slowed Landy enough to cost him a race that was billed as and has since become, largely because of Bannister’s breasted-at-the-tape triumph, the most important and talked-about mile event in track and field history. The “Mile of the Century” was also the first race in which two men ran the distance under four minutes. Bannister also secured the European title in the 1500- meter before retiring from competition.¹ He then went on to practice medicine and never ran another race.

http://www.achievement.org/autodoc/page/ban0bio-1, available as of 10/13/07

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

HIS AIRNESS HAD CONSUMMATE KNACK

2011-11-04T10:58:00.000-07:00

(This story was excerpted from Guts in the Clutch. See below)

By Richard J. Noyes

Of all the unforgettable moments in NBA history: Willis Reed coming onto the court to inspire the 1970 New York Knicks to victory, John Havlicek’s 1965 steal, and Magic Johnson’s play as substitute center in the 1980 championship game at Philadelphia, Michael’s moment was the zenith.

It was game six of the 1998 Chicago Bulls-Utah Jazz final. The Bulls led the series 3-2, and they were going for their sixth NBA championship. But the Jazz, anchored by Jerry Stockton and Karl “The Mailman” Malone, were dangerous adversaries who were up by three points with less than a minute to play when Michael Jordan drove to the hoop and brought the Bulls to within one. Utah brought the ball up the court and got it in low to Karl Malone who was virtually unstoppable near the basket. Would “The Mailman” deliver?

Michael snuck in behind Malone, reached around his huge frame, knocked the ball out of his hands and back between his legs. Michael grabbed the ball, dribbled down the court, faked an opponent so completely that he fell onto the floor (or did Michael bump him and get away with one?), pulled up and launched a 20-foot, game-and-series-winning jumper that you could have bet the farm on the instant it left his hand.

The shot showed what the superb mechanics of a great player can deliver in the clutch. As he returned from his levitation over the hardwood, Michael held his eye on the basket and his arm in full, follow-through extension until well after the ball went through. The graceful, athletic curve of his arm, wrist, and fingers mirrored the arc of the ball in flight, nothing but net.

Michael’s mechanics were so refined and repeatable he probably could have made the basket with his eyes shut. In another game, in a different season, a grinning Michael at the free-throw line silenced his trash-talking opponents by closing his eyes and swishing the shot.

A year or two earlier when Miami Heat coach Pat Riley was asked about his or other teams’ chances in the playoffs against the Bulls, he said in effect forget about it, until Michael retires nobody is going to beat the Bulls.

When Michael Jordan won six NBA championship rings in a decade he never let Magic Johnson forget that he had won “only” five. If Jordan hadn’t detoured into professional baseball at the height of his basketball supremacy, the Chicago Bulls would likely have won seven titles.

The final play against Utah was the capstone of Michael Jordan’s career. It said everything about him as the premier basketball player in history. Scottie Pippen, the Bulls number two star was playing hurt, and Michael took the team on his own shoulders. Displaying his usual clairvoyance, he kept them in the game with defensive gems, creative passing, a late string of baskets, and a total of 45 points in the game.

After his drive to reduce Utah’s lead to one point, the unfazable Jordan knew the ball would go to Malone, and he was there (timing is the music of sports). As Erskine Childers wrote about a dexterous character in his novel The Riddle Of the Sands, “He had, too, that intuition which is independent of acquired skill, and is at the root of all genius.” After the steal and dribble to advance the ball into the forecourt, he made the consummate fake that left room for the perfect shot he knew would go in. Using Alexander Pope’s phrase, Michael Jordan snatched a grace beyond the reach of art.

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Real Estate Vice President

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

KNACK OF THE LOOSE HUDDLE

2011-11-01T13:44:00.000-07:00

KNACK OF THE LOOSE HUDDLE

Richard J. Noyes

Joe Montana, arguably the foremost quarterback in NFL history, had the knack for grace under pressure, consistent execution and late-game comebacks. One of the ever-cool Montana’s unforgettable moments came during a need-a-touchdown-to-win, 89-yard-closing-seconds drive in the 1981 NFC Championship game against the Dallas Cowboys. Joe asked his 49’ers teammates in the huddle, “Isn’t that John Candy in the stands? The team looked up at the comedian, and when they came back down every one of them was relaxed and knew they were going to win.

With the football on the six-yard line, Montana retreated under extreme pressure from Ed “Too Tall” Jones and other Dallas defenders, but managed to launch a back-on-the-heels pass deep into the end zone. Receiver Dwight Clark (who led the league in receptions that year and the next) leapt to the extent of his rangy frame, caught the ball in his fingertips, and came down barely inside the end line.

In sports television coverage at its best, a video camera at the back of the end zone recorded what has become known as “The Catch.” Joe Montana’s spiral appeared ready to impact the lens when Dwight Clark’s hands came into the frame and grabbed the football for the victory and a trip to the Super Bowl, which the 49ers won.

(Excerpted from Guts in the Clutch, see below.)

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of them is a professional pitcher who suffers from sudden, unexplained, career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Real Estate Vice President (more)

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

CURSE OF THE BILLY GOAT

2011-10-21T14:26:00.000-07:00

By Richard J. Noyes

The Cubs lost the World Series again in 1945 to the Detroit Tigers and haven’t gotten into one since. Prospects were bright in 1969, 1984, 1989, 1998, 2003, 2007 and 2008 but the Cubs came up short in all these chances for the big prize. Like the stock market, the Cubs climb a wall of worry; but unlike many long-term investors the club hasn’t gotten a big payoff in over 100 years.

“For years, it was impossible for me to look at any round outfielder who could hit a long ball without deciding I had found myself another Hack Wilson.” -Bill Veeck

The sizzling hitting of perennial all-star third baseman“Smiling Stan” Hack (he was also the Cubs’ hitting star of the 1938 World Series loss to the Yankees) and the pitching of Hank Borowy (who was acquired in mid-season from the Yankees) propelled the Cubs into game seven. Then, in a losing wager, they pitched Borowy on one day’s rest; he was chased, and the Cubs lost another World Series. Their search for the big prize was 100-years old in 2008. (Has any other team, in any major sport, gone 100 years without winning a title?)

The 1966-1970 Cubs may be the only team to play together that long, with three future Hall of Fame players, Banks, Jenkins, Williams, plus Ron Santo who should be in the Hall, and never win a pennant.

CALIFORNIA DREAMING. In 1984, Cubs’ second baseman and future Hall-of-Famer Ryne Sandberg was the National League MVP. His inspired play and Rick Sutcliffe’s masterful pitching helped the Cubs finish first in the East (39 years after their World Series loss to the Tigers). Only a few pitchers have won 20 games in a season while pitching for two different teams. Rick Sutcliffe is one of them. He came to the Cubs during the 1984 campaign with a 4-5 record and made it a career year by going 16-1 and winning the National League Cy Young Award as a unanimous selection.

In their best chance, the Cubs led in the seventh inning of game five, but were overtaken by a San Diego rally in which the key event was an unusual Chicago error committed by the typically sure-handed first baseman, Leon Durham. The inning appeared to have come to a harmless conclusion when a routine ground ball that should have been the inning’s third out was hit directly to Durham. When Durham bent down to pick up the baseball, it mysteriously skidded off his glove and rolled into the outfield, and it was Katie bar the door from there. And what turned out to be the reason for the error? It seems that Durham had been drinking Gatorade in the dugout and some of it spilled onto his glove. Because Durham had been less than fully attentive while wiping it off, a residue remained, and when that dried it left a sticky surface. When the routine ground ball came in contact with that sticky place, it unexpectedly skidded off Durham’s glove, resulting in the fatal error. Why didn’t the stickiness help retain the baseball. Hey, it’s the Cubs, also known to many of their fans as “The Lovable Losers.” A string of hits followed, and the Cubs didn’t get into the playoffs again until 1989.

In the 6^th game of the NLCS, the Cubs led the Florida Marlins three games to two. Cubs’ star Mark Prior pitched into the 8^th inning with a 3-0 lead. Was this the year? Was the curse finally lifted?

“When troubles come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.” -William Shakespeare

(Credit by permission from National Baseball Hall of Fame, Cooperstown, NY and Library of Canada for sources in original story excerpted and abridged from Guts in the Clutch.)

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

THE KNACK FOR STUFF

2011-10-19T13:10:00.000-07:00

(Portions of this story were excerpted from Guts in the Clutch. See below.)

Richard J. Noyes

The ability to throw with high velocity is a perfect example of knack. Velocity can be increased through improved mechanics, but you’re born with the shoulder and arm physics that deliver fastballs in the plus-90-mph range.

Because throwing hard comes naturally, pitchers with heat can also achieve about the same velocity, more movement on the baseball, and enjoy longer, injury-free careers when they learn to relax and throw with about 85% of full power.

Sandy Koufax was a wild lefty until a warm-up catcher suggested that he needn’t try to throw every pitch through the backstop. Being an intelligent athlete with superb mechanics, Koufax tried it, and the rest as they say is history.

“Hitting Sandy Koufax is like trying to drink coffee with a fork.” -Pittsburgh Pirates’ great Willie Stargell

Very few pitchers get superior action on everything they throw. Pedro Martinez, for instance, was an exception with a world-class fastball, curveball, and change-up. Hitters were further plagued by Pedro’s ability to throw all three pitches into a teacup. I’d be surprised if the hits and walks combined off Pedro equaled the number of innings he pitched. Pedro Martinez attained a preternatural 117-37 (.760 percentage!) record with two Cy Young awards over a seven-year period with the Red Sox.

Brooklyn Dodger pitcher Preacher Roe went 44-8 (.815 percentage) over a three-year stretch in the early 1950’s. He was a tall, lean, shrewd lefty delivering an assortment of pitches that looked like strikes but usually weren’t, mixing in the spitter. During Roe’s dominant seasons, Stan Musial still hit him well. When asked how he did it, Musial said, “I hit it on the dry side.”

Most pitchers are lucky to have good movement on one or two pitches. Some fastballs just naturally sink, tail, or appear to hop. There are a few curves that fall off the proverbial table, while most just bend. You see the occasional slider that breaks sharply and fades late, but most are flatter and easier to pick up. Some pitchers never learn to throw the split-finger fastball.

Mike Scott and Roger Clemens learned the splitter (also called “Senor Tumbelina” by Latino players) in mid-career and had the knack of making what looks like a fastball at the midpoint go suddenly south about 15 feet from the plate after batters have committed to swing.

The knuckler? Well, it’s a rare species of pitcher who can throw that pitch for consistent strikes with late flutter. I can think of the Niekro brothers, Wilbur Wood, Hoyt Wilhelm and Tim Wakefield and then run out of names.

The maxim for hitters facing a knuckleball pitcher is, “If it’s low, let it go; if it’s high, let it fly.” Smart hitters also choke the bat and go opposite field. Therefore, successful knuckleball pitchers don’t just aim for the middle of the plate and let the break go where it may. The baseball must be delivered low in the strike zone, because high knucklers are like all other elevated pitches: they are easier to hit.

After instructing pitchers individually at all levels for many years, I’m convinced that to throw any one pitch at a superior level requires an innate skill, and if it’s not there the pitch can be improved, but it seldom becomes a reliable out pitch. It takes a certain bent to be able to throw high-caliber sinkers, curveballs, screwballs, sliders, cutters, splitters, fastballs, change-ups, knuckleballs, etc.

I’m not suggesting that pitches lacking significant late action should not be thrown. It’s just that they must be unexpected and need to break on the black. Great stuff must also be well located, but placement is more forgiving.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one is a professional pitcher who experiences sudden, unexplained wildness), and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus (more)

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

CREW KNACK

2011-10-18T13:51:00.000-07:00

CREW KNACK

or Ergs Don't Float

Richard J. Noyes

Basketball, hockey and volleyball usually come to mind when you think of sports that require instant reaction and close-knit teamwork. Crew is often overlooked, but is likely the sport demanding a level of joint participation beyond all others. One, two, four and eight rowers occupy shells of various sizes. For the purposes of this account, we’ll concentrate on eight-person boats.

Clearly, rowing requires an aptitude for the sport. Tall, strong people with long arms (the longer the lever the greater the potential lift or pull) are especially well adapted. If these attributes also include ratio or “water sense,” the ability to slide in the seat in concert with the rest of the crew, plus the capacity to vigorously compete while in deep oxygen debt, and an indomitable will to win you have the makings of a good and maybe great rower.

The strongest rowers usually sit in seats four and five in the middle, also known as the engine room, of an eight-person boat. However, you can have big and powerful rowers in all eight seats and still not compete favorably. Championship rowing is all about chemistry. A boat can have all top rowers, but unless their techniques are in sync, strength alone isn’t enough to win.

Rowing endurance is initially measured on a dry land ergometer, an apparatus used to measure the performance of muscle groups. But the athletes with the best erg scores aren’t necessarily the most efficient rowers. As they say in the rowing world, “Ergs don’t float.” That being said, strength in a good place to start in recruiting rowers: Paraphrasing Ecclesiastes, the race may not go the swift or the strong, but that’s the way to bet.

Rhythm, timing or perhaps even musicality contribute mightily to productive rowing. The coxswain’s commands become a kind of mantra, and to a lesser degree the metronomic clicks of the oars in the oarlocks helps put rowers into a trance-like state that allows them to dig deep and reach levels of endurance beyond the ordinary.

Crew epitomizes the adage, “We’re all in the same boat,” and championship-level rowing exemplifies communion at its zenith. Coxswains prompt the crew: They dictate when to square the oars and give the order to be ready to row and then row. Coxswains also know that things can go terribly wrong, as when a chorus of technique turns into a holy mess.

For example, when an oar is not squared up to slice through the water a rower can “catch a crab,” a feared occurrence that can flip a blade around and slow a boat’s momentum, or cause an oar to fly up and possibly injure a rower.

A rower I know was in the number seven seat when the Stroke’s oarlock opened and the blade popped out. The boat was now down a rower and had more power on the starboard side. The rower in seat seven became the new stroke of the boat. The pull on the port side was increased and they won a race they were leading by several lengths by an eyelash. This was teamwork and mental toughness at its best.

When things go smoothly, the race starts with accelerated strokes that are difficult to execute in unison, but essential for a quick start. When flubbed, the start can put a boat’s eventual finish in doubt. Following a demanding transition from fast-paced to regular and smooth, the coxswain sets the stroke rate and orders the strokes-per-minute pace that the crew, led by the Stroke in the first seat, use to maintain a cadenced flow.

Coxswains also correct individual rowers when their strokes are early or late. And often direct all rowers to simultaneously align the timing of when all eight blades enter the water (catch) and when the blades leave the water (finish). As described, winning coxswains must have a knack for leadership, plus the gifts of perception, tempo, and instant decision-making. Most importantly, they have the ability to steer through wind, rain, and waves while keeping the boat at a prize-winning clip.

The coxswain also motivates in the sprint portion of the race which is commonly the final 250 yards when the crew powers up and the stroke rate increases, the crew aches, and despite the pain draws upon resources they didn’t know they had. When properly executed, rowing is a model of collective action that delivers victory through unity.

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations. (more)

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

KNACK OF FEMALE TRACK AND FIELD MARVELS

2011-10-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

Richard J. Noyes and Pamela J. Robertson

FANNY BLANKERS-KOEN, a Dutch mother of four children, was a sensation at the 1948 Summer Games in London. She was the first woman to capture four Olympic gold medals: 80-meter hurdles, 100-meter and 200-meter dashes, anchor leg of the 4 X 100-meter relay team.

WILMA RUDOLPH, a member of the esteemed Tennessee State track team, won gold medals in the 100 and 200-meter dashes and 4 X 100 relay at the 1960 Olympic Games in Rome. The country fell in love with the beautiful, charming Wilma who overcame leg infirmities from polio to run like a goddess of the hunt.

Twenty-eight years later, at the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea, two American women, both former UCLA athletes, mesmerized sports fans worldwide. FLORENCE GRIFFITH-JOYNER (Flo-Jo) of the chiseled physique, incandescent smile, striking running clothes, and brightly painted, dagger-length fingernails was a force of nature who duplicated Wilma Rudolph’s feat as she won gold medals in the 100 and 200-meter sprints and the 4 X 100-meter relay. Flo-Jo still holds the women's world record of 10.49 for 100 meters and 21.34 for 200 meters, and no one has come close to threatening them. In 1988, she won the Sullivan Trophy as the outstanding U.S. amateur athlete. Flo-Jo married Jackie Joyner-Kersee’s brother Al Joyner, 1984 Olympic triple jump champion, in 1987.¹⁵ Tragically, Florence Griffith-Joyner died in her sleep in 1998 at age 38.

JACKIE JOYNER-KERSEE is America’s greatest female athlete. Among a string of track & field records, she won gold medals in the long jump and heptathlon at the Seoul Games. The heptathlon is an athletic competition in which athletes compete in seven events over two days. The first day’s events include 100-meter hurdles, high jump, shot put, and 200-meter dash. Day two’s competition consists of the long jump, javelin and 800-meters. Jackie Joyner-Kersee has the still-standing record of 7,291 points in the women’s heptathlon.¹⁶

She was also one of UCLA’s top women’s basketball players, scoring over 1,000 points during her career. Jackie Joyner grew up in an underprivileged area of East St. Louis, Illinois. She was introduced to track & field when a Title 1X federal grant provided money for a coach and a small track. This pathway gave Jackie the chance she otherwise might not have had. In her hometown retirement from competitive athletics, she helps young people achieve their goals.

SOURCES

15 Courtesy of USA Track&Field, http://www.usatf.org/HallOfFame/TF/showBio.asp?HOFIDs=63, available as of 11/11/07

16 Courtesy of USA Track&Field, http://www.usatf.org/HallOfFame/TF/showBio.asp?HOFIDs=201, available as of 11/11/07

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations. He also teaches mistake-free control to pitchers at all levels.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy and the unforgettable women in their lives. (One of the characters is a professional pitcher who suffers from sudden, extreme unexplained wildness.) http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

POLITICAL KNACK: THE GREAT COMMUNICATOR

2011-10-08T11:36:00.000-07:00

Richard J. Noyes

Whatever your politics, it is not easy to deny that Ronald Reagan, former governor of California and two-time President of the United States, was a superb politician with a knack for presentation, likability and dramatic phrasemaking such as, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall.”

Before politics, Reagan was a lifeguard, a sportscaster and a successful Hollywood actor. His best film was “King’s Row,” a drama in which his legs were cut of by an evil surgeon. Upon wakening from anesthesia Reagan uttered his second most-famous movie line, “Where’s the rest of me?” Reagan’s performance in “King’s Row” made him a star.

Two years earlier, the 1940 film “Knute Rockne of Notre Dame” added to the Fighting Irish football mystique and made the late Rockne even more of a national hero. As an all-American player and later as a coach, Rockne popularized the forward pass. At the height of his coaching success at Notre Dame and winner of five national championships, Knute Rockne was killed in a 1931 plane crash that plunged the nation into mourning.

The best moment in “Knute Rockne of Notre Dame” came when Ronald Reagan, who played the dying all-American George Gipp* asked Rockne, ably portrayed by Pat O’Brien, to “Win one for the Gipper.” Reagan, the amiable politician and great communicator, who sometimes mixed a little fantasy with reality and knew how to tug at the heartstrings, used the line to advantage several times during his political career.

During his Hollywood heyday, Ronald Reagan was president of the Screen Actors Guild, an active union. Later, as his film career waned, Reagan became involved in television, particularly as a spokesperson for General Electric. During this period, he left the Democratic Party, registered as a Republican and became a champion of conservative causes and politicians like Senator Barry Goldwater. Given his superb personal skills, television attractiveness and knack for politics, Ronald Reagan’s path to the presidency was apparently predestined.

*In a bizarre turn that infuriated many people, George Gipp’s remains were exhumed (with video cameras recording the scene) in 2007, 87 years after his death from a strep infection. A DNA check to determine paternity failed to confirm a woman’s assertion that she was Gipp’s granddaughter. Lawsuits followed.

“We live in a litigious society.” –Mick Jagger

(Portions of this story were excerpted from Guts in the Clutch. See below.)

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations. (more)

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of the men is a professional pitcher who suffers from career-threatening sudden, unexplained wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Real Estate Vice President

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

The Knack of Being a Lefty

2011-10-06T11:38:00.000-07:00

(This story was excerpted from Guts in the Clutch. See below)

Richard J. Noyes

Why are most screwball pitchers lefties? Does it have anything to do with the name of the pitch? 1960’s Red Sox pitcher Bill Lee, whose nickname was Spaceman, was once asked if he anticipated problems with his contract. He replied that he was willing to play kid’s games for nothing. Lee once put on a hilarious and impromptu water show during an extended rain delay. He slid, dove, and sloshed on the puddly tarp with all the sure-footedness of a drunken stork.

BO BELINSKY’S career record was way south of .500. But as an Angels’ rookie in 1962 he pitched a no-hitter which, along with his good looks, got him heavy notice in Tinseltown. Bo loved the nightlife and probably dated more starlets, including the bodacious Mamie Van Doren, than Howard Hughes in his prime. Belinsky’s nocturnal antics didn’t put any more hair on his fastball, but most anyone who pitches a no-no in the Major Leagues gets an automatic career extension, and it probably kept Bo around longer than he deserved.

Left-handed people make up about 10% of the population, but the incidence of alcoholism, criminality, genius, eccentricity, creativity, insanity, automimmune disorders, suicide, early death, (and pitching wildness) is distinguishable relative to right-handers.

And why do over 50% of all left-handed pitchers step crossfire and throw across their bodies while righties rarely do? The step to the left of the mound, and the unavoidable misalignment with the strike zone, likely contributes to the rough going many lefties have in finding it.

How come lots of righties bat left while nearly all left-handers hit from the left side? It appears, with scattered exceptions, that left-handedness means being a lefty through and through. Perhaps the dominance accounts for the fact that left-handers who switch-hit are nearly unheard-of.

Even the tools of other trades work against lefties. For example, screws (why does that word keep showing up?) thread to the right, forcing lefties to switch hands. It just ain’t fair.

Nature’s cruel blow also surfaces in the special kind of wackiness exhibited by a high percentage of left-handed pitchers: Lefties’ brains are wired differently. Something goes wrong in the early stages of development. An immutable baseball law holds that the minds of left-handed pitchers are a couple of bubbles off plumb. Lefties who can throw strikes have the last laugh, though, because their pitches typically have more late action than those of right-handers. The natural movement on the baseball can even work against them. I once saw a big-league first basemen handcuffed on a pick-off attempt by the extreme tail on a left-handed pitcher’s toss. He yelled: “Can’t you throw the freakin’ ball straight?”

“Whoever wants to know the heart and mind of America had better learn baseball.”

–Jacques Barzun

(Read more about lefties like Steve Carlton, Warren Spahn, Whitey Ford, Lefty Gomez, Babe Ruth and others in Guts in the Clutch, a full description of which can be found at http://gutsintheclutch.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus (more)

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

Closing Badly at the British Open

2011-10-02T11:17:00.000-07:00

Excerpted from GUTS IN THE CLUTCH: 77 Legendary Triumphs, Heartbreaks and Wild Finishes in 14 Sports

Weather in the U.K. can be just as bad or worse than Northern California’s Pebble Beach. Some of the courses like Kingsbarns and Prestwick are perched on the ocean’s edge where it’s often blowing a gale. And like Pebble Beach, most of the links have narrow fairways, treacherous rough (in Scotland the rough often bristles with waist-high grass), deep bunkers, hazardous water, and ticklish greens.

Gary Player said that Carnoustie in Scotland is the toughest golf course in the world. The claret jug may be the most elusive trophy in golf, even more valued than the Masters’ green jacket. The path to victory is as thorny as a Scottish thicket, and the woes of losers are sometimes bizarre. Thumbnails of three, final-round British Open torments follow.

Don’t Bait a Bear

Doug Sanders was a poor boy from Georgia made good. Called the “Peacock of the Fairways” because of his flashy clothes, Sanders’ outgoing personality matched his wardrobe, and he used his charm to make friends with the rich and famous. Despite his short backswing and unorthodox stroke, Doug Sanders won 20 PGA tournaments, but never a major.

The closest he came was in 1970. In the most heartbreaking loss of his career, Sanders blew a two-and-a-half-foot putt on the 18^th hole for a win at St. Andrews, and the ever-dangerous Jack Nicklaus beat him in a playoff.²² As shown in this example, it was highly risky to let Nicklaus back into the game. His style was a combination of explosive shot-making and conservative management that calculated all factors-the course, his opponent and how he was playing. As a golfer, Nicklaus was both Secretariat and Einstein.²³

Aye, the Laddie’s in Barry Burn

The largely unknown French golfer Jean van de Velde led by three strokes on the final-round 18^th tee at Carnoustie. After hitting a solid drive he decided to use a long iron to the green rather than lay up. In an infamous three-dub collapse, van de Velde hit off a grandstand, into a bunker, and a dark-running brook called Barry Burn before finally getting onto the green and down. Mercy.

Despite the seven-shot triple bogey, van de Velde still got into a three-way playoff that was won by Scotland’s own Paul Lawrie who had come from 10 strokes back. Brilliant. Although added perspective on his fiasco is likely unnecessary, van de Velde could have taken six shots and double-bogeyed on the final hole of the 1999 British Open and still walked away as champion.

SPEAKING OF DOUBLE BOGEYS, Irishman Padraig Harrington came from six shots back to lead by one on the 72^nd hole of the 2007 British Open at Carnoustie. Spanish golfer Sergio Garcia, the best player on the PGA Tour who has never won a major, had a three-stroke cushion going into the final day. He faded to second place on weak putting and Harrington’s nifty ball striking, including an eagle on 14. Harrington, needing a par on 18 to clinch, seemed intent on doubling the ghost of Jean van de Velde by mishitting twice into the Barry Burn. But a clutch wedge within four feet of the cup stanched the bleeding at a double-bogey six. Suddenly, it was Garcia who needed a par on 18 to win, but he found a bunker and his pitch left an eight-foot putt that rimmed out for a tie.

Harrington won a four-hole playoff, the final hole of which was 18. And this time he avoided the dreaded Barry Burn. Sergio Garcia, who was so close and thought he had it, was devastated. (A disqualification in the third round of the PGA for signing an incorrect scorecard added to Sergio Garcia’s 2007 woes (See “Be Careful What You Sign” in this chapter.)

A high spot of the day came when Padraig Harrington’s three-year-old son Paddy ran out to be swept up in his triumphant Dad’s arms. When that frolic was over, Harrington hoisted the claret jug and waved the Irish flag. Ah the pints lifted in Ireland’s pubs that night. Erin go bragh.

Trapped in a Sandwich Beach

Thomas Bjorn was two up in 2003 at Sandwich when his tee shot found a trap near the par-three 16^th green. His first attempt to get out hit the lip of the deep bunker, and, to the accompaniment of the spectators’ dying groans, rolled back in. The groans grew more terminal when Bjorn’s second shot repeated the first like a rewound tape. In a third-try-never-fails effort to end the ugly scenario, the ball, riding on crowd cheers, arched onto the green. Bjorn sank the putt along with his hopes with a double bogey that cost him the lead and the match.

For every fall into ruin there is almost always a corresponding ascendancy: American unknown Ben Curtis came from behind to capture his first major. He was the first American since Francis Ouimet won the U.S. Open in 1913 to win a major on his first try. (See “The Caddie Wins” vignette in the “U.S. Open Sorrow and Joy” story in this chapter.)

22 http://www.dougsanders.com.bio.htm, available as of 7/27/04.

23 Courtesy of the World Golf Hall of Fame, http:www.wgv.com/hof/members/jnicklaus.html, available as of 9/30/05

24 http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sport/golf/397863.stm, available as of 1/26/08

http://amzn.to/dGXTzx

Golf Knack at an Early Age

2011-09-23T13:13:00.000-07:00

This story was excerpted from Guts in the Clutch. See below)

Richard J. Noyes

Northern Ireland’s Rory McIlroy, age 22, won the 2011 U. S. Open with a -16, a record. Rory’s dad, Gerry, who was a scratch golfer, realized that by the time his son was four there was no more to teach him. It was all there, including the liquid swing, all Rory had to do was practice.

98 YEARS EARLIER Before 1913, golf was not a game for working-class stiffs. That all changed when 20-year-old Francis Ouimet won the Massachusetts Amateur title and entered the U.S. Open at The Country Club. That’s it, no other name, just The Country Club. It’s like The Crown to a British subject; no further explanation is needed.

Ouimet lived near and had caddied at The Country Club, and now he was back inside the toney Brookline, Massachusetts landmark, but this time as a contestant. Most everyone in the golf world expected either Harry Vardon or Ted Ray, two standout British pro golfers, to win the 1913 U.S. Open. Francis Ouimet was barely noticed, never mind being considered a serious contender.

But Ouimet knew the course, played it impressively now that he had the chance, and stayed in contention into the final round. The sports world was electrified when they learned that Ouimet sank a long birdie putt on the 17^th hole to tie and force a three-way playoff with Vardon and Ray.

The following day, all three men went out in 38, and Ouimet took the lead when both Vardon and Ray three-putted the par-3 10^th. By the time they reached the par-4 17th Ray had given up the fight, but Vardon was only one behind when he caught a bunker with his drive and took bogey. Ouimet then drilled a 15-foot birdie putt to put the championship on ice and endear himself to the world, with a little bit of help from his ten-year-old caddie Eddie Lowery, a pint-sized neighborhood kid who added a touch of whimsy to the photographs.⁶

FRANCIS OUIMET’S legendary upset win made him a national hero, diminished the perception that golf was a game only for the privileged, and initiated it as a national pastime for the rest of us. In 1913 it is estimated that only 350,000 Americans played golf. Ten years later, fueled by Ouimet’s heroics, that number was up to 2,000,000. So it is that Ouimet is rightfully called the Father of Amateur Golf.⁷

It must be mentioned, however, that the great Bobby Jones was the finest amateur golfer in the history of the game. Many experts would argue that he was the best golfer ever. (Jones’s wrists were so strong that he could grasp three pool cues at the tips between the fingers of one hand and lift the butt ends off the table.)

6 Courtesy of the World Golf Hall of Fame, http:www.wgv.com/hof/members/fouimet.html, available as of 9/24/05

7 WGHOF, Ouimet

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

Noyes is the co-author with Pamela J. Robertson of Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of the men is a professional pitcher who suffers sudden, unexplained, career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives. http://larcenyoflove.com/

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

The Knack of Being Bogey

2011-09-22T11:43:00.000-07:00

Among sterling contenders such as Bette Davis, Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, James Stewart, Vivien Leigh, Alec Guiness, Marlon Brando and many more, the majority of polls nominate Humphrey Bogart as the foremost actor in the history of movies. He was slender, of average height and his face was interesting but not handsome.

Bogey’s New York-accented baritone voice with a slight lisp was masculine, distinctive and especially suited to playing tough guys. Men respected Bogart and wanted to be like him, and women found him irresistible. The ethereally beautiful Ingrid Bergman being in love with Bogey as Rick in Casablanca was totally believable.

And he delivered great lines from that film with natural conviction: “Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” And, “We’ll always have Paris.” (It’s impossible to imagine anyone else in the role of Rick in Casablanca, but George Raft turned down the role and Ronald Reagan was an early choice.)

One director said that when Humphrey Bogart was on the screen you didn’t see anyone else. How did he do it? Why does the camera love one person but not another? What was Bogey’s secret? Well, that’s like describing presence, it’s either there or it’s not.

Citing five more of his many great films, Bogart was unforgettable as Duke Mantee in The Petrified Forest; Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon (the part that made him a star); Fred C. Dobbs in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre; Philip Marlowe in The Big Sleep; and Charlie Allnut in The African Queen. (John Huston directed three of these masterpieces. Can you name them?)

Bogey’s acting was unforced and authentic, and he maintained a cool detachment while coming across as likable. Paraphrasing the words of one song, he looked like a seeker of wisdom, justice and truth. There was, is, and unlikely will be, any actor remotely like Humphrey Bogart; and he is a national treasure.

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations. (more)

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Real Estate Vice President

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

Political Knack: Jimmy Walker

2011-08-04T13:19:00.000-07:00

POLITICAL KNACK: JIMMY WALKER

Richard J. Noyes

Some people who are not naturally glib attempt to acquire the skill of “deceiving without offending” through strenuous means. The Irish, for example, will hang you upside down over a parapet to help you reach and kiss the Blarney Stone located near Cork at Blarney Castle. The myth being that the gift of gab is bestowed on anyone who manages the kiss. If successful you may be able to spin a more enchanting yarn, but in the end you’ll likely be accused of being “full of the old Blarney.”

Speaking of blarney, Jimmy Walker, also known as “Beau James” because he dressed impeccably like a dandy, was mayor of New York City from 1926 until 1932 when he resigned and fled to Paris under threat of prosecution.

The dapper Walker didn’t fancy the grind of office; but he loved the nightlife, racetracks and the ladies. He even wrote a hit song: “Will You Love Me in December as You Do In May.”

The gallivanting mayor was a deft off-the-cuff speaker who could dismiss rivals and other critics with a quip. During a meeting with Governor of New York and future president Franklin D. Roosevelt, FDR asked the Mayor, “Mr. Walker, why do the Irish always answer a question with a question?”

Jimmy replied, “Do they now?”

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.

A Stage and a Spotlight

2011-07-25T11:51:00.000-07:00

A STAGE AND A SPOTLIGHT

Richard J. Noyes

As many experts have pointed out, musical aptitude is less about the ability to play a beautiful melody and more about the innate capacity to hit the right note at the right time with the proper emphasis, how long to hold that note and how to blend multiple notes into a sublime performance. Phrasing is a good, general term to describe this capability. Feeling and timing are also useful adjectives in describing musical talent. Phrasing, feeling and timing were embodied in the talents of Frank Sinatra, one of history’s celebrated rhythmic instrumentalists.

Sinatra was also a thorough artist who could read music. In one recording session with a full orchestra, one of the horns hit a wrong note. Sinatra called for a pause and asked the offending member in a gentle way if what he played wasn’t supposed to be a B-flat. The horn player acknowledged his mistake. Sinatra smiled, said in a joking way, “So let’s play the music already,” and they moved on.

According to many experts, most musical instruments are designed to mimic the human voice, and the piano makes the closest approximation. For that instrument, the transcendent classical master Vladimir Horowitz and the legendary jazz pianist Bill Evans closely corresponded Sinatra’s gifts.

All that was written above about Frank Sinatra could also have been said about Judy Garland. “Just give her a stage and a spotlight, and get out of the way,” –Harold Arlen

Some years ago, I tuned the car radio to a classical music station and listened to the last few minutes of an opera. I was immediately struck by the quality of the female singer’s voice. I wasn’t a true opera fan, but had heard enough to know that this performer’s potency was thrilling and distinctive. After the final aria, the announcer reported that we had just heard Maria Callas as Tosca, in what was perhaps her defining role. I did a little research and learned that Callas was the supreme exponent of bel canto singing and opera’s greatest diva. All I knew when I heard Maria Callas for the first time was that her voice gave me pleasant chills and the need to listen to her sing again. I later learned that Callas had been Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onasiss’s mistress and that he dropped her to marry Jackie Kennedy. I don’t know if the recording I heard came after the breakup, but I do know that Maria Callas, along with Edith Piaf, Billie Holliday and very few others, could sing of lost loves with heartrending fervor.

As described above, knack can also be used effectively during periods of extreme stress, and, given the resolve, a bountiful gift will not be denied. Judy Garland did some of her best vocal work when she was not a well person. The accomplished Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich wrote his Seventh Symphony while under the long and bitter Nazi siege of Leningrad during World War Two.

Playing any instrument well off a score demands a definite capacity, especially when it demands keeping time and tempo with a group. What really requires aptitude is having what it takes to extemporize and riff with an improvisational jazz ensemble. This aptitude is similar to the creation of an abstract painting where the artistry comes from the proper arrangement and relationships of all the elements, including color, shape-size, balance, dimension and more into an intelligent and eye-filling composition.

I watched with admiration a business associate of mine, a talented saxophonist, sit in on several sessions of Jazz at Noon in New York City and blend, impromptu, with master hands like the vibraphonist Lionel Hampton and Freddie Hubbard on the flugelhorn. In one gig, Hubbard, along with his supporting cast, winged thirty minutes of “Teach Me Tonight” without repeating a single improvisation. If that’s not having knack, I don’t know what is.

Richard J. Noyes, former Associate Director, Center for Advanced Engineering Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a consultant to public and private sector organizations.

“Whenever dramatic storytelling about people you like is created around business, sports and film, I'm a happy reader. I'm sure you will be as well.” –Kevin Marcus, Real Estate Vice President

“The best compilation of fascinating sports stories I have read.” -David Houle, Emmy and Peabody Award-winning producer of documentaries on Hank Aaron and the Harlem Globetrotters.