Game Time
Academy Awards season has long meant an “Oscar Hunt” for me—putting
up a clipping of the nominee list up on the fridge and then hunting down as
many of the movies as possible. I remember going to the movies with my best
friend Larry in early 1970 to see a movie nominated for ten academy awards, a wonderful
historical costume drama, “Anne of the Thousand Days.” It was playing as the
main event of a double feature with “Goodbye, Columbus” at the humble El Camino
Real in San Bruno, a suburb of San Francisco.
The movie was rated “M” for “mature audiences” which meant
that Larry’s mother (known lovingly as ‘Ma’ to one and all) had to get out of
her car and sign us in. My initial reaction, of course, was humiliation. “M” is
the precursor of today’s “PG-13” after all, and we were fourteen! Ma’s raucous
laughter defused by hormonal outrage and I reverted to my Oscar fever mania.
“Anne” was a piece of cake for me, the nuances of Henry VIII
and Anne Boleyn’s torrid history already having thoroughly dissected by me. “Goodbye,
Columbus,” the B feature, was another story --an unknown quantity to me and my
first introduction to Philip Roth. The vagaries of upper-middle class
twenty-something Jews in 1950’s New Jersey? That was foreign territory. Before
you start thinkin’ that “Yeah, uh-hunh—the WASP didn’t get it,” please note
that Larry is quite Jewish indeed and as clueless as I about Brenda Patimkin’s (Ali McGraw) machinations
and Richard Benjamin’s whining. OK, I’ll concede that Larry is a California “Reformed-Reformed
Jew” as he says, but still.
The pertinent subplot of “Goodbye, Columbus” involved Brenda’s
brother Ron and his inability to move on
from his college glory days at Ohio State, epitomized by his incessant
replaying of an a album commemorating his days as a Buckeye on the Columbus
campus. Every night Ron shuts himself away in his room (walls slathered in Ohio
State memorabilia), and we hear the soundtrack repeatedly ending with the words
“So we say goodbye to the red and gray…goodbye, Columbus, goodbye.”
The silly-yet-somewhat-sad and pathetic image of an alumnus
wallowing in his Buckeye regalia long after graduation was forever solidified
in my mind as the epitome of the over-aged fan. Someone I never wanted to be.
Well, here I am, in San Diego for a weekend planned around a
visit to Petco Park to watch my San Francisco Giants take on the San Diego
Padres, adult men playing that wonderful boys’ game. I have Giants regalia packed in bags, waiting
for tonight’s main event. Forgive me, Ron Patimkin, I am you.
OK, OK, It’s not quite that bad. I don’t worship the jocks
that play for my home team. I do enjoy the game and enjoy being a fan—NOT a
fanatic. Almost every piece of Giants-themed gear I own was purchased for me by
my wife. Of course, 90% of every stitch of clothing I own was purchased by my
lovely Melissa. It makes her happy to buy me clothes. After 28 years, you are expecting
this leopard to change his spots? I’m just saying.
I have attended sporting events in nearly every major city I
have visited in the USA. It’s part of my “when in Rome…” mantra. It is a
wonderful way to be in the moment and connect with rhythms of the city I’m
visiting, to get a sense of place. I even took two weeks off three years ago to
attend games at six ballparks with my buddy Mike. Before you judge, please note
that I also layered in three halls of fame, one Frank Lloyd Wright house and a
trip to Gettysburg. And a quick stopover at the ball field that hosts the
Little League World Series. Does that make me a middle-aged adolescent
unwilling to put away my childish things? I ask you.
Yes, yes I am a Giants season ticket holder, too--but that
‘s just a fun excuse to entertain friends and enjoy going to The City. I am a
mature man who acts his age and likes baseball,--honest. My real obsession is
the movies…I mean, have you seen “Anne of the Thousand Days?” Richard Burton is
at his very best, and Geneveieve Bujold had the performance of a lifetime.
…Goodbye, Hollywood, goodbye…