Yearly Archives: 2020

Bodyline

The greatest sport.

If no motors are allowed there is no question that test (international) cricket is the only game. The game requires physical skills of a high order, immense courage, guile, strategy, tactics …. and on occasion political malpractice. And the last intruded in the 1932-33 England tour of Australia which saw five test matches played by the two nations and was, with the possible exception of the 1936 Berlin summer Olympics, the most controversial encounter in modern sports memory. These were ‘timeless’ tests, meaning you played until there was a result or a draw. Typically that meant 5 days for each test, which is what current rules mandate. Modern rushed lives preclude the timeless test variant.

Jesse Owens, with his four Olympic golds in 1936, saw to it that Hitler’s white supremacy was dealt a body blow, even if the fight continues to the present day. But Test cricket between the two leading exponents of the game, England and Australia, was exclusively a white man’s sport, and it would be many years before the magnificent teams from the West Indies showed the white man who is who and what is what. In 1933 English teams were captained by prep school aristocrats with the occasional coal miner thrown in for luck. And it was one of each genre – the aristocratic Douglas Jardine, England’s captain, and a former Lancashire coal miner, Harold Larwood – who were the core of the drama. Jardine was the devil to Larwood’s hero.

Jardine brought to the game an intense dislike of Australians – likely driven by England’s many recent losses to the colonials – and an all out determination to do anything it took to win the series. And his secret weapon was the world’s most feared fast bowler, Harold Larwood. As a child Larwood had worked in the Nottinghamshire coal mines where he was a ‘pit pony’. Pit ponies were young children assigned the task of pushing coal laden railcars out of the mine and whatever you think of the related child labor laws of the time this hard graft gave Larwood one outstanding attribute. Massive upper body strength. Not tall for a fast bowler at 5′ 8″, Larwood perfected his skills playing for the county side and was chosen as one of the fast bowlers for the 1932-33 test series. His musculature saw to it that he was very fast indeed. And this is where the plot thickens.

There have been any number of statistical analyses which attempt to use mathematics to compare performances of the best players from disparate sports. No matter how it’s done the winner is always the same and he is Don Bradman, Australia’s ace batsman, who was pretty much guaranteed a score of 100 or more in any innings, regardless of the opposition. And while the equipment has not changed since then, cricket pitches have changed greatly, the modern glass smooth and level version putting the lumpy, uneven surface of the 1930s to shame. This made batting much harder back then yet, despite these challenges, Bradman’s star shone brightly. Jardine was only too aware that a winning strategy required something different or Bradman would simply dominate the game and Australia would win the series handily. So he came up with Bodyline, which required his fast bowlers to bowl fast and short aiming for the batsman’s head as often as not. The short deliveries – in cricket the ball almost always bounces before reaching the batsman – would rise fiercely off the sun baked surface of Australian pitches and, well, injuries resulted. Jardine had concocted this idea when Bradman had last played in England, astutely noticing that if the great man had a weakness then it was to short pitched deliveries aimed at his left (leg) side. So he conscripted Larwood in his plot and told him to bowl at the man. Larwood touched his cap in the approved manner, obeyed his captain’s orders and went at it. He was, after all, a team player, and it was simply not done to question the captain’s orders.

And Jardine’s strategy worked in spades. Of the five encounters, England won all but the second test by mostly huge margins. Australia’s sole win came in that test and it was the only one in which Bradman scored his usually expected century, scoring 103. And that was in his second innings, having been dismissed with the first ball he received in his first innings. Bradman was beaten and England came home victorious, but not before leaving carnage on the pitch and a major diplomatic incident between the two nations. By virtue of Larwood’s hostile deliveries, Australia’s captain Bill Woodfull, was felled by a blow to the heart. A man of great moral character, he refused to object, with the crowd in Adelaide on the verge of rioting. Woodfull was dismissed shortly after recovering from his injury. Most famously, when the England manager went to see him in the dressing room to offer his condolences, Woofdull replied “I do not want to see you, Mr. Warner. There are two teams out there. Only one is playing cricket and the other is not”. But Larwood was far from done, fracturing Bert Oldfield’s skull with a fast delivery putting him out of the game. Ironically, this was a regular delivery, not a Bodyline special. The crowd was now at fever pitch, not helped by repeated blows to the body of Australian batsman Bill Ponsford who had wisely been kitted out with (somewhat) protective layers of rubber and foam. The crowd was now screaming obscenities at the English team and the Australian authorities filed a formal protest on Sunday, the rest day in the middle of the test. This most certainly was not cricket. A 5.5 ounce leather covered cork and hard rubber projectile shot at the batsman with lethal intent would have required full body armor to withstand injury.

This is all documented in the 1934 Wisden, the annual almanac published since 1864. I have long owned the 2002 edition for it includes a moving set of obituaries for Donald Bradman. Now I own the 1934, a Christmas gift from my sister in West Sussex. The full text of the diplomatic cables is reprinted and it makes for fascinating reading.


The two Wisdens in my library.

I wrote that Larwood was a hero. He was. He obeyed his captain’s orders and was then forced to apologize by Jardine in a thoroughgoing act of treachery and cowardice by his captain. He never played for England again and after many more successful years in county cricket retired to Australia at the invitation of Jack Fingleton, one of the Australian batsmen in the 1932-33 side. The Australian people knew what had transpired between Larwood and Jardine and Larwood was met with a hero’s welcome on disembarking in the land which would become his home.

I shall be poring over the contents of the 1934 Wisden this Christmas Day. If there is a finer way to pass time I do not know of it. And it bears adding that to this day Australians style unsportsmanlike behavior as ‘Bodyline’.

King Cole

Words and music.

When I first moved to Manhattan in 1980, things looked pretty dire on the financial front. While I waited to close on my ‘luxury high rise’ co-op apartment (an L-shaped alcove studio with but 450 square feet of space which the realtor somehow managed to advertise as having 6 rooms) my temporary landlord made off with my deposit. Some $1,000 poorer and every penny deposited on the luxury high rise, I was down to my uppers. Dinner was at the McDonald’s I could see from the 14th floor window on 8th Avenue and the Citicorp branch next door was advertising 18% pass book savings rates, courtesy of the Idiot Carter.

But the stroll from 56th and 8th to Broadway and 57th was but two minutes and you could find me there every night at what had become my local free library. After the splendid repast at Mikey Dee’s, I would traipse round to Coliseum Books and enjoy a chapter of something favorite, no hassles involved. You see, I could afford nothing in the store.

The all time favorite was this:


The master.

Fans of Gershwin may carp, but the reality is that George had to retain his brother Ira to write the lyrics. Cole Porter needed no such help. He wrote the words. And the music. And what words and music they were.

The large tome, available used though Amazon, is replete with period photographs, this one being one of the best:


Fred and Ginger.

And who could not thrill to the magic of Cole’s gorgeous word mastery?


You’re the top!
You’re the Coliseum
You’re the top!
You’re the Louvre Museum
You’re a melody from a symphony by Strauss
You’re a Bendel bonnet
A Shakespeare’s sonnet
You’re Mickey Mouse
You’re the Nile
You’re the Tower of Pisa
You’re the smile on the Mona Lisa
I’m a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop
But if, baby, I’m the bottom, you’re the top

The Henri Bendel store, repository of high fashion and kept women, was just across 57th between 5th and 6th Avenues. Sadly, both stores are gone but Cole Porter’s words and music will live forever.

Don’t make my mistake of waiting 40 years to buy this special book.

A year of isolation – 2020

These pieces generally run annually in time for Hanukkah and Christmas.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities, 1859.

From March on it has been a year of isolation.


We are all essentially alone.

To point out the year’s villains is a simple task.

  • A murderous, psychopathic Pig in the Oval Office, who will have killed 500,000 Americans when all is said and done.
  • The 74mm Americans who just voted for Pig.
  • The US legislature which has ensured millions of Americans have not enough to eat.

But it is far more positive, more hopeful, to name the many heroes who are helping ensure that we will soon be returning to sunlit uplands:

  • The frontline doctors and nurses who risked everything daily in the service of their fellow man.
  • Two Turkish Muslims without whose pioneering work there would be no vaccine. These are the people our Administration has demonized and excluded.
  • The 80 million Americans who saw the light of day and returned Pig to his natural habitat, the ordure he so richly deserves.
  • Jeff Bezos and his superb workforce. Without his wonderful Amazon and Whole Foods home grocery deliveries I would almost certainly be dead.
  • But, most of all, my gorgeous son, who took the courageous decision to take a gap year before starting as a freshman at college. His optimism, joy of life, increasing debating and argument skills and pleasurable company have been a gift impossible to ever replicate. Thank you, Winston.


My son.

Images: Leica M3, 50mm Summicron, Kodachrome, 1978. iPhone 12 Pro Max, 2020.

Night scenes

Joy of the season.

All told there are some 134 homes in my Scottsdale community, and while the Stepford aspects sometimes irritate (limited color palette permitted, lots of rules, all the wives with perfect teeth and plastic chests, driving BMWs) there’s no denying the pride of place exhibited by homeowners.

Last night, with my son driving, we toured the community at night and counted no fewer than 30 homes decorated with Christmas lights, and very professionally at that. Here are seven of the best:








iPhone 12 Pro Max, handheld, Apple ProRAW, processed in LR.

Apple ProRAW

Another nail in the DSLR’s coffin.


Here’s Apple on the technology.

Your intrepid writer was to be seen at 2AM of a beautiful Scottsdale night (Jammies? Scotch tartan, green. Slippers from LL Bean) banging away in both JPG and ProRAW on the iPhone 12 Pro Max after installing iOS 14.3, the operating system which added ProRAW support.

Great news? My ancient Lightoom 6.4 imports the files faster than a Wall Street shyster can take your money, no questions asked. Apple uses the universal DNG file format, saving us yet another upgrade from the nasty people at Adobe and allowing what is now ‘legacy’ software to continue working fine. No monthly shakedown payment required.

Here’s the import dialog in LR for both the JPG and ProRAW files:


The import dialog.

The files after import:


The imported files.

As Apple advises, file sizes for the RAW images are much larger, suggesting you want to selectively use the technology to conserve storage space – there’s a toggle in the photo taking screen:


File sizes.

The ProRAW highlights in this extreme dynamic range image seem beyond redemption:


ProRAW highlights.

But after working the sliders vigorously ….


Slider adjustments.

….a crackerjack image emerges:


After slider adjustments.

ProRAW is not true RAW, in the sense that Apple (wisely) retains its image manipulation to provide the sharpest images by melding the best, and adding Deep Fusion where appropriate. But the results meaningfully improve on SOOC JPGs, just be prepared to work the post-processing software quite a bit. Nothing a Preset or two in LR couldn’t largely automate.