Category Archives: Angell, Roger

The Sporting Scene: Dream a Little Dream

By YGS | Published: September 13, 2005
Wilmington, Delaware, is decked in brick red, an insurance capital clad in provincial reassurance. The luxury condos jut from the ground where lighthouses once stood, the sea no longer a hub for anything but oil and lost dreams — its sandy borders home to silkscreen and rollerblades, ATVs and MTVs, the soft laughter of a [...]
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The Sporting Scene: Oak Stands Tall

By YGS | Published: August 8, 2005
After Copernicus suggested that the earth revolved around the sun — contrary to the then-contemporary vice versa option that passed as absolute fact — he was indubitably the subject of cruel astronomer jokes down in the observatory involving mothers, moons and certain Milky Ways. His theory was rejected out of hand, naturally, and he died [...]
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Bartleby the Neviner

By Matt Cibula | Published: July 29, 2005
“I would prefer not to.” If you’ve ever tried to slog out a degree in English Literature from any university in the United States of America, you had a deja vu experience a few days ago in the person of one Phillip Joseph Nevin. Ostensibly the San Diego Padres’ first baseman, Nevin was slated to [...]
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The Fee Simple! O Simple!

By Matt Cibula | Published: May 23, 2005
The news, as long as it is about baseball, never travels as quickly as it does around a team’s locker room. It is fair to say that the Reds were taken by surprise, which is to say poleaxed, which is also to say stunned, ambushed, shocked. Stymied. Undercut. Poleaxed. Blindsided. Flim-flammed. Jimmied. Hoosiered. Shanghaied. In [...]
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Heart of Blueness.

By Matt Cibula | Published: May 12, 2005
The last days were ugly. The ballclub had been in disarray for weeks, faced with a Brobdingnagian series of heartbreaking losses and baserunning buffoonery the likes of which had rarely been seen since the 1962 New York Metropolitans. The clubhouse air was dank and dismal, tasting faintly of mustard and failure. Even Angel Berroa, always [...]
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Angell in the Outfield

By Matt Cibula | Published: May 4, 2005
Neifi! in ThunderI am not sure that I have ever seen anything like this in all my years of covering baseball — although I might have missed it, considering the fact that I am also the fiction editor of the New Yorker, and therefore get to see Jhumpa Lahiri on a regular basis. Hubba hubba, [...]
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April Is the Cruellest Month

By Matt Cibula | Published: April 28, 2005
[Glad am I, Roger Angell, to join thee in thy noble enterprise. Glad, and thrilled, and humbled. To finally be logged on, after all this time; and to be asked to contribute to a 'blog by my good friend Peter Gammons...well, it is humbling, and unnerving, and enriching. I shall endeavor -- much like LaTroy [...]
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