Year: 2007

In this morning’s conference call from London, I asked Randy Wittman to describe his optimal scenario for Randy Foye. Does he want Foye to be his rock-ribbed point guard, or does he want him to slide over and play the two occasionally, be a combo guard?

“He is going to play both,” Witt replied. “No, not all of his minutes will be at the point because of all the problems he presents [for opponents] off the ball. So he’ll do both.” The coach noted that in the first exhibition game Foye played about half and half between the guard positions and implied that he’d like to see that continue.

When I followed up asking who that would deliver minutes for, Marko Jaric of Sebastian Telfair, Wittman said, “These guys are going to dictate who plays. But the opportunities are going to be there because I don’t want 35 minutes of Randy at the point.”

The PiPress’s Rick Alonzo remarked that that might be news to Foye, who seemed to emphasize that he would be pretty much only a point guard at the media day interviews. But Wittman essentially replied that Foye has foreknowledge of and is on board with the combo guard plan. “He wants to play off the ball some,” Wittman flatly stated, noting that he and Foye have talked about this.

Okay, maybe this is surprising news, or maybe we should just take it with a boulder (instead of a grain) of salt, along the lines of Witt claiming that the Wolves will be a running team this season. Why am I skeptical? Because it means a much bigger role for either Jaric or Telfair, two players that have been relied upon fairly significantly to handle point guard duties in the past two years and have failed miserably. Because putting Foye at the two increases the swingman glut that continues to dog this roster. Witt today claimed that he wants Ryan Gomes to get as comfortable at the 3 as he was last year at the 4. So if you have Gomes playing some 3 and Foye playing some 2, both on a regular basis, that necessarily robs minutes from Davis/McCants/Green/Buckner.

As for the Wolves being a running team, the dirty little secret is that a transition game requires a quality ball distributor just as much as in the half-court game, and the Wolves, aside from the soon-to-be-departed Davis, are flat out of decent options there. Oh, and there is also this notion that all the Wolves’ need to crash the glass at both ends of the court, further retarding the running game. No, if the Wolves are smart, they’ll play a lot of dump and slash: Get the ball inside to Al Jefferson and otherwise rely on the slashing abilities of Foye, Davis, McCants, Green, and Brewer.

By the way, Witt also mentioned that a few players tweaked their ankles today in practice–Jefferson and Green and Telfair–and might be doubtful for the Celtic tilt tomorrow. A conspiracy theorist might opine that the Wolves don’t want the current talent differential of their big trade to be quite so obvious out on the hardwood, although you could also argue that they have nothing to lose except maybe a little face. Anyway, McCants as of now is healthy enough to play and Craig Smith might be able to go–he engaged in a full practice today–but the coach sounded dubious on that count.

On to the baseball playoffs. The first round was a real snooze. I called every series but of course was in deadline hell so nobody knew it (he mutters, kicking the ground). Now watch–I’ll blow the pick on both of these second round matchups, especially because I’m pretty confident of the winners, especially the ALCS.

The key to the Boston-Cleveland series is the lack of lefties in the Red Sox rotation. The two most influential bats in the Indians lineup, Sizemore and Hafner, are both righty mashers. Yes, I know the numbers rebut this: Hafner hit below the Mendoza line versus Boston this season (ditto Victor Martinez), and Sizemore was merely .250, with 11 Ks in 28 ABs. But I think both will come up big in the clutch. Schilling and Beckett have both proven to be big game pitchers, but Dice-K is shakey, and unless Boston can go right from Beckett-Schilling to Okajima and Papelbon, I’m not convinced that Timlin/Gagne/Delcarmen can hold down the fort. Ditto the lefty Lopez.

Meanwhile, Sabathia and Carmona are the best 1-2 in baseball right now, two bona fide aces. The only potential chink is the batting eyes of Youkilis-Ortiz-Manny-Drew: if Carmona nibbles too much and gets behind in the count, he’ll either get lucky and last only 5-6 innings because of his pitch count on the mistakes will result in runs. I also have a feeling Jake Westbrook has a hell of a game in him for this series. The guy lost quite a bit of time with injuries this season and thus should be fresher than usual, and he’s already gotten over that blip, the post-big contract jitters. Finally, Cleveland’s much maligned bullpen is better than Boston’s right now. Cleveland in six.

The other league features two very hot NL West ballclubs whose seasons are already a fabulous success regardless of whether they win another game or not. Because of that circumstance, the first game is even more important than usual, as one club may feel they remain on the side of the gods while the other shrugs and considers it a good run to get this far. This is particularly true if the Rockies snatch Game One on the road.

But I’m picking Arizona in 6 or 7 and the reason is Brandon Webb, the most unheralded great pitcher in the game today. Who knows that Webb is the reigning Cy Young Award winner? That he induces ground-outs as effectively as anyone in baseball right now? I think Webb is capable of a 3-0 series. Again, this prediction is based more on gut instinct than raw numbers. The Rockies have actually hit Webb very well this season, especially lefties Brad Hawpe and Kaz Matsui. Todd Helton less so this year, but in the past has murdered Webb. And Matt Holiday has posted decent numbers with a plus .800 OPS.

No matter. It is the postseason and great pitchers rise to the occasion. Brandon Webb is a great pitcher. Meanwhile, Doug Davis (who had a nice comeback second half of the season) and Livan Hernandez should be able to pull out at least one and possible two games against the likes of Josh Fogg and Franklin Morales. Obviously, Colorado’s strength is in its offense and its bullpen, both of which are better than Arizona’s. The difference-maker will be Webb.

Random thought related to the plight of womanhood: While watching mindless reality television last eve, I came across an ad for Yaz, a new birth control pill that also takes care the period’s pesky side symptoms, such as bloating, moodiness, acne, and fatigue. And, by the way, it’s one of those pills that can eliminate your period. All this, and it prevents pregnancy, too (I assume – the ad didn’t specify). At this point, I turn to my boyfriend, who’d be all-too-happy to have his woman on hormones (and who, in fact, wishes like hell I’d be compliant and just swallow the damn things) and say, “That seems like an irresponsible way to market the pill.”

“Why?” he demanded. We’ve often sparred over the safety of oral contraceptives. Me, I’ve read plenty of earth-mother literature about the pill’s potential harms. And besides, I’ve tried three different types of pills in my lifetime, and I just haven’t liked how fragile I’ve felt. I much prefer my body and mind in their natural, un-medicated states even though, yes, I am prone to fits of bitchiness and bloating. (Diagnosis: Woman!) In any case, I ended up telling boyfriend that when he finally puts himself on a daily regimen of hormones (I’ll be fantasizing about his lost libido in the meanwhile), then I, too, will be happy to do so. The end.

ADDENDUM: I hope and dream of the male birth control pill, which is currently in testing, curing such pesky side symptoms as anger, unrealistically high self-esteem, and horniness.

Me and the missus decided to celebrate five years of married bliss by going back to the scene of the crime, Paris, France. We had gone out on a few dates in the spring of 2000, before I went off for a fellowship at Oxford. We kept in touch during the spring by email, and when the term ended, we rendezvoused in the City of Light. Not much happened in Paris that would make for exciting reading – we toured the markets together, made dinner together, smooched a little on the couch of a friend’s borrowed apartment in the 13th Arrondissement, and somehow the spark got struck.

Given the utter improbability of us finding each other, getting hitched, and actually staying in love for five years, we probably should have gone to Lourdes to give thanks, but we went instead on a meandering trip through the countryside. We stopped in the Loire Valley and Burgundy to visit old friends, and then headed to the Dordogne, home of truffles, ducks, geese and foie gras.

Foie gras seemed to be on nearly every menu in Dordogne, and I will confess that I ate my share: a big tranche of foie gras as an entree at L’Os a Moelle in Paris; roast quail over foie gras at La Recreation in Les Arques, foie gras and artichoke heart at La Belle Etoile in Roque-Gageot. It’s a very sensuous taste experience – with a flavor both impossibly rich and extremely delicate.

It’s also a touchy subject on this side of the Atlantic – the city of Chicago has banned it from restaurants, and the state of California has set a deadline of 2012 to end production and sales of the fatty bird livers. The charge is cruelty, since the birds are force-fed a high-salt diet to produce the delicacy.

I’m in sympathy with the motivations of animal rights activists, and I eat a lot less meat than I used to. I try to support the restaurants that serve humanely and sustainably produced meats. But based on everything I have read, I am not convinced that the force-feeding of ducks and geese (gavage in French) causes nearly as much suffering as the meat production practices that are routine on factory farms, especially in the US. In the Dordogne, local farmstead producers even offer farm tours, with tasting of their products, and demonstrations of gavage. You’ll have a hard time finding a commercial producer of pork, beef or eggs in the US willing to let consumers see how their animals are treated.

At any rate, I didn’t take notes on my dining experiences – I promised Carol that this wouldn’t be a working vacation – so now a lot of wonderful food swims in my memory as a diffuse fog of recollected pleasure – succulent lobster ravioli in a langoustine sauce at La Recreation, a hearty plate of steak tartare in a Paris bistro; magret de canard medium rare with tender cheese quenelles at the Belle Etoile.

One meal was a pilgrimage – a few years ago, I had read Michael Sanders’ book, From Here You Can’t See Paris: Seasons of A French Village and Its Restaurant, about a struggling village in the Lot whose inhabitants recruited a young chef from Marseille to turn their abandoned schoolhouse into a destination restaurant. When I discovered that the village, Les Arques, was near our route, we made a point of a lunchtime visit. The 30 Euro ($42) five course prix fixe menu was one of the gastronomic highlights of our trip, with highlights including lobster ravioli in a langoustine sauce, scallops in passionfruit sauce, medallions of monkfish with stuffed zucchini blossoms, and a sublime nougat glace.

Our final destination was Barcelona. Barcelona is just a short train ride from the French border, but the culinary culture is vastly different. Catalan cooking isn’t as delicate or sophisticated as French cuisine, but what it lacks in delicacy, it makes up for in robust flavor. If in France, food is a religion, in Catalonia it is a sport. Our best meal in Barcelona – our anniversary dinner, actually -was a perfectly seafood paella for two at the venerable Set Portes, the oldest restaurant in the city. But perhaps the most memorable meal was a late-night outing for tapas at La Flauta on Balmes. At 11 p.m., every table in the dining room was taken, with a line as long as the tapas bar of eager customers waiting for a seat – and diners were still arriving when we left around midnight. The dishes we sampled, like an eggplant tortilla (a kind of frittata), a shrimp salad, patatas bravas (fried potatoes with a spicy tomato sauce), offered robust flavors that matched the energy level of the diners.

I don’t want to stereotype Catalan cuisine as hearty but unsophisticated, though that’s just the kind of food that we sought out. Catalonia is actually at the cutting edge of world gastronomy, thanks to such celebrated chefs as Ferran Adria at El Bulli; neurologist-chef Miguel Sanchez Romera at L’Esguard, and Quique Dacosta at El Poblet. (To get a sense of the direction in which these chefs are taking cuisine as art form, spend a little time surfing the El Poblet website.)
I didn’t even try to get reservations for any of these gastronomic pilgrimage sites; reportedly El Bulli gets 300,000 calls for reservations every year, and its hopeless unless you call many months in advance. Maybe if I start dialing now, I can get a reservation in time for our tenth…