Four other players have been suspended for one year, also for betting on baseball. They only got one year suspensions because they were minor league players betting on major league games.
Today is the 50th anniversary of Ten Cent Beer Night, one of the top three greatest events in sports history.
I do not see any acknowledgement of this on the Entertainment and Sports Programming Network site. Or on Cleveland.com. Or on MLB.com. Gee, you’d think they are embarrassed or something.
Please drink responsibly and leave your fighting pants at home.
I just bought two new pairs of fighting pants, and you want me to leave them at home?
The legendary Tim Russert was a college student at the time and attended the game. He is quoted as saying, “”I went with $2 in my pocket. You do the math.”
Verne Lundquist interviews players:
There are quite a few Ten Cent Beer Night videos on the ‘Tube, but almost all the ones I’ve found are from third parties years after the fact, and I don’t want to link them here.
Edited to add: Hooray! And thanks to my beloved and indulgent aunt and uncle!
I am ashamed to admit it, but I get jealous of other bloggers sometimes. They got promo stuff from companies, or they get people reaching out to them directly making them offers, or just get more attention. What do I get?
But I mostly do this because I want to, not for glory or recognition or free stuff.
Yesterday, I noticed that one of the bloggers I read regularly was contacted by a certain company looking for a plug for their review. I admit, I did feel a certain twinge of jealousy, but not too much: this is a blogger I owe a favor to, so I wasn’t too upset.
Then I got an email from the same people, asking for a plug for the same review. And they were nice about it, so why not?
Widener’s has posted a review of the IWI Camel. I feel like there’s at least one person in my audience who will be interested in this, as the Camel is an ambidextrous battle rifle in the same vein as the SCAR, brought to you from the people responsible for the Uzi and Galil.
As someone who has heard a lot about adjustable gas blocks recently (NOT that I’m BITTER or ANYTHING: no, seriously, I love my friends), this is good to know. And $1,800 compares favorably with the SCAR.
My only complaint with this review is that I can’t find a total round count in it. I’d like to know how many rounds they fired in testing.
Burning in Hell watch: Canadian serial killer Robert Pickton. I won’t go into detail about his crimes, out of respect for the sensibilities of my readers: you can click through to the linked article for that if you wish.
He died of natural causes at the age of 74. Two weeks ago, somebody rammed a broken broomstick through his head in prison, so naturally he died.
He was also a Texas native. He studied chemistry at the University of Houston before he was drafted. After leaving the service, he attended Texas A&M: that university awarded him a honorary doctorate in 2014.
Ms. Nash was the longest serving flight attendant ever. She started working for Eastern Air Lines in 1957, and kept working: first on the Trump Shuttle, then US Airways, and finally American. She never officially retired.
I know I have a bias in the direction of photo realistic and representational art. But Mr. Ellis’s work looks fantastic: I would be proud to have an original Ellis hanging on one of my walls.
Anyway, I have a stack downstairs that’s getting precarious, even more so than the stack upstairs. So here’s a few for today, and maybe a few more in the next few days.
Not everyone in the military who dies is killed in combat. Accidents take more than their fare share of brave people. And those folks are just as worthy of remembrance on Memorial Day as the ones who died in action against the enemy.
I’ve had this in my back pocket for a while. It is a little early to post this, but not too early, and it seems appropriate for today.
Some time back, I got a wild hair and went chasing down the military’s “sole survivor” policy. I think the Sullivan brothers led me to that, which in turn led me to the Melbourne–Evans collision. I had never heard of the Melbourne–Evans collision, and was quite shocked to find out that there was a major US Navy disaster I was unfamiliar with.
In 1969, the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) was conducting an exercise, Sea Spirit, in the South China Sea. Two of the ships involved were the US Havy destroyer USS Frank E. Evans and the Royal Australian Navy light aircraft carrier HMAS Melbourne.
At night on June 2nd and 3rd, the Melbourne was doing anti-submarine exercises. Evans was one of the escort ships assigned to the Melbourne. Melbourne was going to launch an anti-submarine aircraft, and ordered Evans to assume the “plane guard” position. There had been one near collision with another US ship (USS Everett F. Larson) a few days before, and the Melbourne’s commanding officer had warned all of his escort ships to be careful. He also increased the minimum separation between the carrier and escorts to 3,000 yards.
In spite of this, the Evans turned towards the Melbourne. Melbourne sent messages to the ship warning the Evans that it was on a collision course. Evans acknowledged the messages, but didn’t take any action. Melbourne’s captain ordered a hard turn to port: at about this time, Evans turned hard to starboard to avoid the collision. This put Evans right in the path of Melbourne, and at 3:15 AM, the two ships collided. Evans was cut in two. (Wikipedia has a good animation of the two ship’s paths.)
The bow section of the Evans sunk rapidly, while the stern stayed afloat. 74 crew members of the Evans died. It is believed that most of them were trapped in the bow and couldn’t get out before it sank. The crew of the Melbourne behaved, in my opinion, quite heroically. All of the survivors of the Evans were located in 12 minutes and rescued within a half-hour, and the Melbourne’s crew did their best to make them comfortable.
When 74 sailors are killed at sea, you can expect an investigation. The commander of the Evans, Albert S. McLemore, was asleep when the collision happened, though he had given orders that he should be awakened if needed. Of the two men who were standing watch, one had failed his qualification exam for standing watch, and the other one was on his first trip to sea.
The US Navy and the Royal Australian Navy conducted a joint board of inquiry. The results were, and are, controversial:
Commander McLemore was court-martialed, and found guilty of “dereliction of duty and negligently hazarding his ship”. The two watch standers were also court-martialed, pled guilty, and were convicted of “dereliction of duty and negligence”.
As a result of the inquiry, the commanding officer of the Melboure, Captain John Phillip Stevenson, was also court-martialed. He was chaged with negligence for “for failing to explicitly instruct Evans to change course to avoid collision and for failing to set Melbourne’s engines to full astern”.
There are two theories on why Captain Stevenson was even court-martialed in the first place. One is that it was an attempt to appease the US Navy, “which had court-martialled three officers from Evans and had threatened to prevent US ships from operating as part of Australian-led forces if no action was taken against Stevenson”. The other is that the court-martial was intended to clear Stevenson.
However, Stevenson’s next posting after the verdict was “chief of staff to a minor flag officer”, which was seen by him (and, I gather, pretty much everyone else in the RAN) as a demotion.
One of the most unusual aspects of this story, to me, is: this isn’t the first time HMAS Melbourne collided with another ship. She collided with the destroyer HMAS Voyager on February 10, 1964, under what sounds like similar circumstances: Voyager was supposed to be plane guard, but turned into Melbourne’s path and was cut in two. 82 men died in that collision. And, similarly, the captain of the Melbourne at the time was initially railroaded.