Men At Work

Hello World, Well, this is the weekend when we all might see history being made, or once more, thanks to the malevolent spirit of Affirmed, we could instead party like it's 1978 all over again. It all depends on whether the scrappy I'll Have Another can beat the odds, survive the curse, and somehow hold off the evil ghost of Affirmed to win the Belmont, and be the first Triple Crown winner in more than three decades and counting. This hard-charging colt has shown what he can do in the Derby and Preakness, but the longer length of the Belmont, plus the long layoff between races, has proved the undoing of countless horses before him, even without Affirmed's dastardly handiwork from the great beyond. So while the bettors will be all a-flutter, the media frenzy will be at full-tilt, and the spectators will all be agog - as much as I would wish I'll Have Another every success, I would be very surprised if Affirmed's hold on the last Triple Crown would give way at this point. Speaking of history being made, it was all that and more last week when the ace of the Mets pitching staff, Johan Santana, recorded the very first no-hitter in franchise history, going all the way back to the bad old days of 1962, as their long-suffering fans can attest. This no-no drought has encompassed more than 8,000 ballgames over the decades, plus numerous elite pitchers, such as Tom Seaver, Dwight Gooden and David Cone, some of whom went on to achieve no-hitters with other teams later. So here in their 50th glorious anniversary year, the first no-hitter finally hits the books, to the delight of generations of their faithful fans, who as the saying goes, can now die in peace, amen. In fact, even long-time announcer Gary Cohen, who called the historic game on television, when asked later if he thought he would ever see a Mets no-hitter in his life, replied simply, "No." An interesting sidelight to the momentous occasion was that this was also Santana's first no-hitter in his career, and at 33 years of age now, he is certainly no spring chicken, and has played for other teams where such a feat would not have been out of the question. So here's a great big Hearts-of-Queens cheer for the very first Mets no-hitter in history, and their ace hurler, Johan Santana - who the pundits have christened "NOHAN" in honor of his accomplishment. Somewhere I can hear the irrepressible phantom of the late, great Tug McGraw saying, "Ya gotta believe!" Meanwhile on the local sports scene, all that matters to anyone in this area is the latest recurrence of inter-league play, with the Yankees and Mets squaring off for bragging rights around the boroughs, and devil take the hind-most. Unlike many other years since the introduction of inter-league play, when one or the other team is rattling around in the cellar of futility and stinking up the joint, this time around, both teams are contending for the top spot in their respective divisions, so these games actually mean something for a change, and more than just the entertainment value of cross-town rivalries. Here is normally where I would say, "May the best team win," but we bleed Mets blue in our house, and U.S. Steel - excuse me, I mean the Yankees - certainly don't need any help from me, or Ring Lardner for that matter. (With apologies to Joe E. Lewis, playing the Liberty Valance role in this scenario.) So it's the junior franchise that we'll be pulling for, and hoping for the best. In fact, three more no-hitters would be nice, I don't mind saying, and thank you, Tug McGraw, wherever you are. And while we're on the topic of entertainment value, in the flood of summer blockbuster movies out now, Bill and I were sucked back into the theaters last week, to see the latest installment of the "Men In Black" series, this one being the third film of the group. We had seen the first two and liked them (can anyone actually believe that the first one came out in the dark ages of 1997???) so we were looking forward to it, especially in 3-D, which can make anything seem even more stupendous. I will say that this one certainly delivers the goods, and the special effects are so perfectly rendered as to seem almost effortless and positively mundane, as hard as that might be to believe. The story is interesting, and features an extended flashback sequence with Josh Brolin playing the young Tommy Lee Jones part in a pitch-perfect performance that will really get your attention and then some. Once again, our favorite part of the experience was the concession stand's Freschetta pizza, and if this is all part of a grand scheme by the President's economic advisers to make us go to the movies more often, I have to say, that it's certainly working like a charm so far. Heck, at this point, I'll go see a Communist propaganda documentary about tractors, as long as I can have pizza with it, by golly. Another thing not to be missed, if you haven't already seen the new "Sherlock" on PBS as part of its Masterpiece Mystery collection, by all means, please use whatever technology options you have at your disposal to get your hands on it without delay. This classy mini-series is an updated version of the vintage Arthur Conan Doyle detective stories with the dishy Benedict Cumberbatch as a modern-day re-interpretation of the renowned sleuth, and the endearing Martin Freeman as his long-suffering assistant Dr. John Watson. The producers have taken the original stories and made them relevant for today, with technological and cultural advances never dreamed of in the author's lifetime, while still remaining true to the spirit of the characters and situations. It is lavishly produced with expensive sets and impressive gadgets - but unlike sleepy British costume dramas, is filmed with a fast-paced gritty realism, that is edgy and intense, and full of jump cuts that keep you on the edge of your seat even when it seems like nothing is happening. The stories leap off the screen and grab you by the lapels, as the duo bounces from one amazing adventure to another, in a battle of wits against the forces of evil, where you can't help but feel sorry for the poor over-matched forces of evil, actually. The episodes are exquisitely written and intellectually deep, far beyond the average programming on television, certainly nowadays, and will easily leave anyone in the dust who is not paying careful attention at every moment. Each show pops with intelligence, wit and genuine camaraderie among the characters that is a joy to watch and a feast for the senses. There are a limited number of these programs, but each one is a gem, and although I can't force anybody to watch them, I would if I could, believe me. I can also tell you that a current online search for Benedict Cumberbatch will reveal that he was recently voted The World's Sexiest Man in a poll by The Sun, easily besting his nearest rival, soccer star David Beckham, by more than twice as many votes. At which accolade, the self-effacing Cumberbatch declared: "I am barely the sexiest man in my flat and I'm the only guy living there." Frankly, I don't think even the late great Tug McGraw could improve upon that, Watson. Elle