Albert Brooks has written a book. I hope it is good.

If it is nearly as funny as this Proust Questionnaire, the world will be an unhappier (but funnier) place.

We love sports because there is no telling what will happen. Yes, we are cynical and jaded but the element of surprise is what keeps us riveted.

Last night I went to bed with the Oklahoma City Thunder trailing by 15 points early in the first half of Game 4 against the Memphis Grizzles. The young Thunder team blew Game 3 on Saturday night and I didn’t know if they’d be able to regroup. Russell Westbrook, their wonderful point guard, seems to have trouble recognizing that he’s the second-best player on the team, next to Kevin Durant. Now losing by double digits against a tough Memphis team, well, it was time to go to bed.

I was delighted when I woke up this morning and learned that the Thunder won the game in triple overtime. Triple OT?!

Here’s John Hollinger at ESPN:

You know it’s a classic when fans of the losing team give a standing ovation at the end of it.

Few people who were in FedEx Forum on Monday will forget it anytime soon. One can safely say Game 4 of the Grizzlies-Thunder series will become a staple of future NBA TV daytime programming, after the two sides slogged through three overtimes, two miraculous game-tying 3-pointers, and three missed buzzer-beaters for the win before Oklahoma City finally won the war of attrition 133-123.

We can also safely call this series “evenly matched.” Through four games and four overtimes, we’re tied at two games apiece with a composite score of 440-438. Each side has stolen a win on the other’s home court, and each has stormed back from a huge deficit to win — with Oklahoma City’s rally from 18 down Monday offsetting Memphis’ comeback from a 16-point deficit two days earlier.

The sun is out this morning, the leaves of the trees now pea green, cool in the morning, and a gentle breeze in the evening. It’s a precious time of year. And the day started with a smile. Triple OT win, and the series is even at two.

[Photo Credit: Melisaki]

My man Brad passed along this coolness–Project Neon: A Digital Guide to New York’s Neon Signs (by Kirsten Hively).

From the latest issue of Men’s Journal, here is “The Ferocious Life and Tragic Death of a Super Bowl Star,” by Paul Solotaroff and Rick Telander:

Dave Duerson set the scene with a hangman’s care before climbing into bed with the revolver.

The former Pro Bowl safety for the Super Bowl–champion 1985 Chicago Bears drew the curtains of his beachfront Florida condo, laid a shrine of framed medals and an American flag to his father, a World War II vet, and pulled the top sheet up over his naked body, a kindness to whoever found him later. On the dining room table were notes and a typed letter that were alternately intimate and official, telling his former wife where his assets were and whom to get in touch with to settle affairs. He detailed his motives for ending his life, citing the rupture of his family and the collapse of his finances, a five-year cliff dive from multimillionaire to a man who couldn’t pay his condo fees. Mostly, though, he talked about a raft of ailments that pained and depressed him past all tolerance: starburst headaches and blurred vision, maddening craters in his short-term memory, and his helplessness getting around the towns he knew. Once a man so acute he aced his finals at Notre Dame with little study time, he found himself now having to dash down memos about what he was doing and when. Names, simple words, what he’d eaten for dinner — it was all washing out in one long wave.

No one had to tell him what those symptoms implied or what lay in store if he stuck around. Once a savage hitter on the best defense the game has ever seen, Duerson filled the punch list for chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), the neuron-killing condition so rampant these days among middle-aged veterans of the National Football League. Andre Waters and Terry Long, both dead by their own hands; John Mackey and Ralph Wenzel, hopelessly brain-broke in their 50s. It was a bad way to die and a worse way to live, warehoused for decades in a fog, unable, finally, to know your own kids when they came to see you at the home.

[Photo Credit: L.A. Times]

Robert Lipsyte thinks that Roger Maris should be in the Hall of Fame. Allen Barra does not agree.

I just don’t see a strong case for Maris, do you?

Sunday August 7 at the Stadium gives the Runyon 5K supporting the Damon Runyon Cancer Research Foundation. Dames and Dudes welcome.

Oliver Wang digs deeper in the L.A. Times:

“Shook Ones Part II,” from “The Infamous” album, is Mobb Deep’s most-cherished hit, so iconic that when Eminem needed a draught of sonic courage in “8 Mile,” he turned to it, with its distinctive tick-tock drums and dark, minor-key bass line.

Except, it turns out, the source of that bass line wasn’t a bass line at all, one reason the sample eluded discovery. The longer “Shook Ones Part II” kept its secrets, the more it became a holy grail for sample seekers, complete with debated theories and false leads. In solving this cold case, Bronco (born Timon Heinke) and his revelation harkens to a seemingly bygone era of competitive sampling and sourcing.

In the late 1980s, as affordable digital samplers such as E-mu’s SP-1200 and Akai’s MPC-60 entered the market, beatmakers discovered the creative potential of looping and manipulating bits and pieces of music from other artists’ recordings, called “samples,” to build new songs. They sought out unused sounds on increasingly obscure records to stay ahead of their peers — and possibly copyright attorneys — and sample hounds followed just as intensely. The adage that “knowledge is power” gave samples cultural capital — DJs could build sets using “originals” while vinyl sellers could mint small fortunes by selling records sporting “known” samples.

Goodness how delicious…

Spring is the time for peas and over at Serious Eats there are a bunch of good-looking recipes like this one…one time for your face.

Here’s Peter Bogdanovich on Ernst Lubitsch:

Sometime in the late 1960’s, I asked Jean Renoir what he thought of Ernst Lubitsch. He raised his eyebrows and said, enthusiastically, “Lubitsch!? But he invented the modern Hollywood.” By “modern Hollywood,” Renoir meant American movies from about 1924 to the start of the ’60s. Before Lubitsch’s arrival to California from Germany in 1922 (to make a Mary Pickford vehicle called Rosita), Hollywood films were under the overwhelming influence of D. W. Griffith, circa 1908 through the epoch-making The Birth of a Nation in 1915 and beyond. Victorian, puritan, Southern, montage-driven, Griffith was the father of film narrative. As pioneer Allan Dwan told me, he would go to see Griffith’s movies and just do whatever Griffith was doing. The majority of American directors felt similarly, including John Ford and Howard Hawks.

When Lubitsch arrived, however, things started to change. He brought European sophistication, candor in sexuality and an oblique style that made audiences complicit with the characters and situations. This light, insouciant, teasing manner became known far and wide as “the Lubitsch Touch.” By the end of the 20’s and throughout his short life—he died in 1947 at age 55—Lubitsch was probably the most famous film director internationally, except perhaps for C. B. DeMille. Today hardly anyone remembers either one of them. Yet while most of DeMille is pretty forgettable, if sometimes fun, Lubitsch is always fun and often as good as it gets.

Meow.

[Picture via Jhalal Drut]

Here’s some Alex Rodriguez notes from Lo-Hud:

• The other two errors belonged to Brett Gardner, who failed to scoop the ball while fielding a single, and Alex Rodriguez, who made a nice play at third and then made a bad throw to first. “That play has to be made 10 out of 10 times,” Rodriguez said. “It’s just kind of an unusual play. I was almost getting ready to throw the ball to a kid in the stands.”

• Rodriguez and Long have been working on his leg kick, which has gotten too high. Both were encouraged by his at-bats today. “I was happy with all my swings today,” Rodriguez said. “I wish I’d get three or four hits, but the bottom line is we won a game. Overall, my balance was good, my strike zone control was good, and if I do that, there’s going to be a lot of damage.”

Nice line…Yanks need to get Rodriguez back in the groove in order for the Score Truck to be fully operational.

[Photo credit: Retro Illustration]

Derek Jeter had a nice weekend and a great game on Sunday.

Feels good.

Sunday’s game between the Yankees and Rangers was tedious, filled with fielding errors and bone-head base running. Can’t anybody here play this game? No matter which team you were rooting for, it was a long, frustrating afternoon. Here in New York, the only relief was the steady pleasure of hearing David Cone call the game with Michael Kay.

The Yanks were down 4-0 but crept back into the game and it held a 6-5 lead in the eighth thanks in large part to four hits by Derek Jeter and three by Curtis Granderson. Two of Jeter’s hits went over the fence, his first two home runs of the season. Now in the eighth, the bases were loaded for Francisco Cervelli who worked the count full and then hit a fastball on the sweet spot of his bat to dead center. I thought it was a sacrifice fly and then maybe a double but the ball cleared the fence. Whadda ya hear, whadda ya say, indeed! It was the first grand slam of Cervelli’s career and the first homer he’s hit since June, 2009. Mark Teixeira added a two-run moon shot and the Score Truck was in full effect.

Final Score: Yanks 12, Rangers 5.

Bombers tied for first with the Rays. Applaud, exhale, digest.

Dear Yanks,

Git ’em.

‘Nuff said.

The Score Truck’s lights … are shining bright … *clap* *clap* *clap* *clap* … Deep in the Heart of Texas.

The Score Truck indeed bypassed Detroit and showed up in Texas. The good: In the first two games of the Yankees’ series in Arlington, they nearly doubled their output of the entire four-game set against the Tigers (9-5). The bad: On Saturday night, the Rangers’ Score Truck showed up too.

Rangers light up Bartolo Colón to take a 5-0 lead, Yankees rally to tie, Boone Logan doesn’t do the job against lefties Mitch Moreland and Chris Davis; Texas scores go-ahead run on a suicide squeeze and tacks on another, and the relief combination of Arthur Rhodes and Darren Oliver, who have the combined age of Yoda, kill any hope of another Yankee comeback.

That’s the quick and dirty. Diving into the game a bit more, some observations:

* Colón isn’t the power pitcher he once was. He can still throw 90-plus, but relies more now on movement and changing speeds — on his fastball. Greg Maddux and Mike Mussina were masters at fastball variation. But some nights are better than others. When Mussina had nights like this, Joe him as being “wild in the strike zone.” David Cone hinted as much with Colón, when after David Murphy’s solo home run, he noted that the home run pitch had “too much movement” and ended up too far out over the plate. This allowed Murphy to get his arms extended and pull it into the seats.

* Derek Jeter can hit the ball out of the infield, and hit the ball hard. Small sample size, yes, but nice to know it can still happen.

* The Yankees had another efficient night in terms of run / hit differential. Five runs on six hits, compared to seven runs on 13 hits for the Rangers. For the season, Yankees opponents have outscored their opponents 158-127, but have been out out-hit 265-249.

* If Boone Logan can’t serve the LOOGY function, and Lance Pendleton isn’t an option, then something has to give. His performance in the 10-inning loss to Minnesota at Yankee Stadium on April 6, led ESPN New York’s Rob Parker to include him among the “Bad Yankees.” Left-handed relief was also an issue two years ago, when the Yankees won the World Series, with Phil Coke was a combination LOOGY/Mike Stanton type. Coke yielded 10 home runs, six of them to lefties.

The Logan piece is significant because he couldn’t do what Colón did effectively in the third inning: put up a zero after the offense did him a solid. David Robertson and Joba Chamberlain cleaned up the mess Logan left, but the damage had already been done.

* Courtesy of Wally Matthews: Russell Martin made six outs in his four at-bats.

* Jorge Posada is now hitless in his last 13 at-bats, with 5 strikeouts. Overall, the 7-8-9 hitters were 0-for-9 Saturday with two walks and three strikeouts. The issue: there isn’t a better DH option. Andruw Jones is hitting .226, Jeter isn’t hitting for any power to merit his placement as a DH, even periodically. The Yankees will likely ride this out for as long as it takes and hope their big bats can come out of their funk.

As starting pitching goes, so goes the Yankees. Mr. Ace Man goes tomorrow. A 3-4 record on this road trip looks better than 2-5. It’d be nice to come back home still in first place. No better guy to have on the mound to give it a go.

Big sports Saturday. The Kentucky Derby is in a few hours. If you’ve never read Hunter Thompson’s “The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved,” here’s your chance.

Later tonight, Manny Pacquiao fights “Sugar” Shane Mosley, though Gary Andrew Poole wonders when Pacman will fight the Right American (aka Floyd Mayweather, Jr.).

For you hoop heads, the Celtics look to avoid going down 3-0 like the Lakers. Good news for them is that they are at home. I figure they’ll win tonight but don’t think they can stop the Heat in the series.

On the baseball diamond, Andre Ethier looks to tie a Dodger team record by extending his hitting streak to 31 out at Citifield. And down in Texas the Yanks would love to see Bartolo Colon to keep things rolling. Bunch o runs wouldn’t hoit, now would it boys?

Get the clicker ready, good people, grab some eats, and settle in for a night of high fat bastardness.

[Photo Credit: Christian Science Monitor]

Jorge Posada is swinging the bat better from the left-hand side of the plate this week (although he is hitless from the right side this season). He thanked manager Joe Girardi for sticking with him. The Post has the story. Posada has already been relieved of his position as catcher and I could see him unceremoniously benched in favor of Jesus Montero come the middle of the summer if he doesn’t start hitting.

Derek Jeter is another case entirely. I just got back from the vet with one of my cats and the vet, a die-hard Yankees fan, spent most of the appointment talking about not giving up on Jeter even if he’s no longer a great player.

He told me how all he hears on talk radio is shouting about how the Yankees should trade for Jose Reyes. I haven’t listened to that noise but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Part of it is our insatiable urge to tear people down. Jeter is lordly and cool–so controlled–and has enjoyed such great fortune over the course of his Hall of Fame career that is must be delightful to some–they can have at him now that’s he’s vulnerable. As is the case with most great players things will likely not end well for Jeter.

There is no place to move him. So, like Cal Ripken, Jr, Jeter will be called selfish as his skills decline if he’s not prepared to be a part-time player. The rub is that the same characteristics that made Jeter great–the skill, drive, ego, the competitiveness–can turn on him, make him out-of-touch, or worse, a detriment to the team’s success.

It must be the hardest thing for a player to admit he’s losing it, that he’ll never be what he was, and also the easiest things for fans to see. You can’t blame him for not being ready to call it a day yet, and I don’t think you can blame management for giving him some leeway here. We’re not dealing with absolutes and in Jeter’s case there is more to the story than simply what is best for the team on the field. You may disagree, but that’s just the cold, hard truth of it.

If the Captain doesn’t improve offensively I can see Girardi moving him down in the line up this season but I don’t see him being replaced as the regular shortstop. If he has a lousy season, that will be addressed this winter. In the meantime, the Yankees are going to play with an average shortstop. Okay, you may argue he’s below average, but he’s the also most famous Yankee since Mickey Mantle and that’s part of the equation. I’m rooting for him, and will not be surprised if he has a couple of big moments left. If he doesn’t, so be it. Then it’s up to the rest of the team to pick him up.

When Ivan Nova is on, he throws a heavy ball with loads of rotation and induces ground balls, most of them harmless as domesticated gerbils. He was on like never before and stifled the Rangers for two hits in seven and a third innings (a career high) on Friday night. Curtis Granderson hit two home runs and picked up the slack for the weak bats all around him. The Yankees beat the Rangers 4-1. Coming on the heels of three straight Yankee losses, this was a fantastic performance from both players.

Nova was great, but he cannot do it alone. All those grounders must be fielded. He coaxed 14 groundball outs to only one strikeout. The infield looked spry behind him, especially Derek Jeter who ran a 5K covering both edges of his positional responsibility. In the middle innings of a lot of his starts, the grounders turn into liners and Nova struggles. Three games in row he has pitched well past the sixth inning and avoided the disaster inning. Tonight was the first time since his debut that his Chien Min Wang potential leapt out at me.

Nova did not issue to a walk until the eighth, but he backed it up by getting a routine bouncer to first which looked to be an inning ending double play. Teixeira booted it and Nova got his feet tangled around the bag and two probable outs evaporated into nothing.

Girardi, realizing he was in uncharted waters with Nova, correctly went to the bullpen. Soriano allowed a single and a run to score, but got the two outs that ended the threat. If it’s veteran pitcher out there and the other lineup hasn’t sniffed him all night, he’d have more rope in that spot. But this is literally the longest start of his career, his pitch count was nearing 100, and he had just had the emotional let down of watching his double play bounce off Teix’s glove. That’s the right time to get help.

Mariano came in and threw darts. 14 pitches, ten strikes, two whiffs and a perfect save. The YES gun is giving him more love lately, more than I remember seeing all of last year too. Tonight, he worked the two corners of the plate like Clint Eastwood worked the two families in Fistful of Dollars.

To support Nova’s wonderful effort, enter Curtis Granderson. In the first inning, after Jeter fisted a ball into rightfield for a single, Granderson pounded a fastball on a line into the upper deck in right center. It was a special home run, the kind that might be on display on a loop in your living room in Heaven. It was also off a lefty. Huzzah! After it was clear none of the other Yankees were going to do anything, he added another impressive solo shot for the fourth run.

What did you guys think about green-lighting Arod in the second inning at 3-0 with bases loaded and two outs? I prefer to take a pitch there. At that point, a ball is a run and taking the pitch eliminates the risk of swinging at a ball. I think Arod’s pitch was high, but may have been called a strike. That’s exactly the type of borderline pitch you’d hope to avoid on 3-0 with bases loaded.

I had planned on revisiting the ALCS, this being the first game back in Texas since the Rangers stomped through to the Series. But with no more Cliff Lee, Hamilton and Nelson Cruz injured, this felt like playing one of the post-Arod Rangers squads from 2005-08. Hardly anything here to get worked up about and plenty of reason to expect good hunting for the rest of this series.

Yanks return to the scene of the crime. At least they are out of Detroit. Let’s hope for a mess o runs, piled high and deep. Yeah, and another good start from Ivan Nova would be swell too. Here’s Cliff with the preview.

Don’t burn the brisket and Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photograph by Steve Perille]

I always have been partial to collar bones myself. That and an elegant neck line. Oh, and hands, feet, eyes, lips. Hell, there ain’t much on a lady that I don’t admire.

Drink it in. Loveliness is, well, lovely.