Reading stack: Thursday's links

• Anthony Bourdain is coming to Asheville next Saturday for a lecture and Q&A. I've been a fan of his since "Kitchen Confidential" came out and "No Reservations" is still must-watch TV for me. So I got my tickets as soon as they went on sale. (There's also a foodie VIP event afterwards. I'm sure the food will be great, and it would be cool to get a book signed, but it sounds more like a "scene to be seen" kind of event.)

Asheville's best food writer, Mackensy Lunford (a local Bourdain, really), interviews him in anticipation of his visit. As always, his candor makes for great conversation about the food business, what his life has become, the socio-economic debates over food, and a shot at Paula Deen. [Mountain Xpress]

• "Pardon the Interruption" has been on the air for 10 years? It's not the must-watch for me that it used to be, either because my life and daily schedule has changed or maybe I'm not as ravenous a sports fan anymore, but it's always been one of my favorite shows. That's largely because I've always enjoyed Tony Kornheiser as a writer, radio host and TV personality.

I was certainly excited when the show was first announced, reading Kornheiser and Michael Wilbon go at it in "The Chat House" every Monday at washingtonpost.com. But the reason "PTI" has endured is probably because of its fast-paced format, a perfect way to catch up on the day in sports in 30 minutes. And the rundown sidebar on the screen lets you know if the show will discuss something you want to hear. If not, come back in two minutes.

That format — along with smart conversation and a refusal to take itself too seriously — has been highly influential. You can see it being copied on a number of shows, whether they deal with sports, politics, or pop culture. Here's an interview with "PTI" executive producer Erik Rydholm. [Washington Post]

• More "PTI": Here's a podcast interview with producer Matt Kelliher (also a regular on Kornheiser's radio show to review the topics of the day), who talks about some of the show's signature touches, such as the "nuggets" which peek back into the show for "off-camera" conversations during commercial breaks. [ESPN Front Row]

Read More >>

• Those who aren't watching the World Series are missing a great one. But just because the ratings don't match up with the NFL doesn't mean baseball is suffering in the public consciousness. As Jeff Passan points out, what people have to remember is that baseball is largely a regional sport — and extremely popular at the local level — during the regular season.

So maybe Tigers fans, for example, aren't watching the Rangers and Cardinals. But plenty of people are still watching the sport played at its highest level in the postseason. [Yahoo! Sports]

• This is a long read, but the question of why most people are right-handed is an interesting one. Turns out it may be evolutionary. I've become even more intrigued as it appears that my baby niece might be left-handed. Almost immediately, her left hand looked like her stronger one.

Yet when it was mentioned, my sister's mother-in-law would say things like "You can train her to be right-handed." What is she in, the 1930s? (OK, maybe it's a pain to deal with those school desks. I don't know; a left-hander will have to tell me.) I'm still baffled by that. As if being lefty is a bad thing. Although maybe it does seem a little weird because you don't see it in many people. [io9]

One of Bobby Bowden's Finer Moments?

With the news that Florida State football coach Bobby Bowden will retire after 34 years on the job (44 years as a head coach overall), and at the age of 80, I quickly thought of one of the many scenes from We Are Marshall that gets me every time.

Bowden was the coach of West Virginia in 1970, when Marshall University was trying to rebuild its football program after nearly all of the team's players and coaches were killed in an airplane crash. When Marshall's new coaches wanted to run the same sort of offense WVU was known for, Bowden allowed them access to playbooks and game films. WVU also wore tributes to Marshall on their helmets.

I'd like to think football coaches would do that sort of thing today (they'd likely pay tribute on their helmets), but given the level of secrecy and competitiveness in big-time college football, I'm not so sure many would show the same compassion.

But what I liked most about Bowden is that the guy seemed to have fun coaching football. I know it's serious work, with a punishing schedule, but is it really as life-or-death as so many coaches make it seem? (Of course, Bowden probably wasn't doing much actual coaching in recent years, letting his assistants do the grinding work, so maybe that's why he seemed so "dadgum" jolly.)

Still, Florida State has been one of the powerhouse programs as long as I've been a college football fan. When the Seminoles came to Ann Arbor to play Michigan back in 1991, that was a big deal. (So was the Desmond Howard-Terrell Buckley match-up.) I can't quite believe they've fallen into mediocrity. (I was referring to Florida State, not Michigan, but I guess that applies to both schools now.)

Obviously, that's the main reason Bowden is "retiring." It's too bad he didn't step aside before being nudged out the door.

By the way, if Florida State and West Virginia can play each other in the Gator Bowl for Bowden's final game, that would be a wonderful ending. Hopefully, that can happen.

There is Some Joy in Mudville

A few years ago, I got to write a magazine article about the clubhouse assistant whose job it was to rub the baseballs down with mud for the Detroit Tigers.  Some people don't know that mud is used to take some of the sheen off the baseballs and make them easier to grip.  This used to be the umpires' job, but they hated doing it, so teams began having their own guys get their hands (and the baseballs) dirty.

It's not just any old mud that's used to rub down the baseballs, either.  It's a special sort of mud that comes in a jar, called Delaware Mud.  Or to be even more specific, Lena Blackburne Rubbing Mud.

Why do I bring this up?  Because CNN ran a story on the man who harvests this mud, shovels a bunch of it into barrels, strains and cures it, puts it into jars, and ships it off to every team.  Each team requires only two 32 oz. jars per season.  Very little goes on each ball.  Maybe about a dime-sized dot.  But it's plenty to give the baseball a grip.  And you can definitely tell the difference. 

There's definitely a technique to rubbing the baseballs down, as you'll see in the video.  And when you have to go through five or six-dozen balls, you get fast at it, taking off the gloss in about two or three turns.  (At least four players or coaches passed by while we were in the hallway and said, "Ask him about rubbing my balls," "Yeah, he rubs those balls real good," or some variation of the two.) 

I was allowed to try it a couple of times (which a certain $18 million right fielder eyed suspiciously) and didn't get it right.  I got too much mud on the ball, especially on the seams.  "Yeah, the pitcher would definitely toss that one back," I was told.

Okay, enough about me.  Here's the video:

(via Motown Sports)

And what the heck, I'll include the article I wrote, after the jump.  (Along with the bad photo I took.)  The publication in question no longer exists (folding more than two years ago), so I'm sure there's no issue with reprinting it now.

The old adage "It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it" doesn't quite apply to Scott Konczal.  One of his jobs is, in fact, dirty, but he's more than willing to do it.  Before a major league baseball game, the new balls have to be rubbed down with mud to take off the sheen that makes them slick and slippery.  Such a task used to be handled by the umpires, but has since been passed along to team employees.  That's where Konczal and his jar of Lena Blackburne Baseball Rubbing Mud come in. 

From his seat outside the Tigers' clubhouse, Konczal takes approximately an hour to rub down 72 baseballs.  And when he opens the new box of balls, you see why this job is necessary.  The baseballs are too white and shiny, too pristine to be played with.  They slip right out of your fingers.  They need to be broken in. 

The rubbing mud is thin, smooth, almost creamy in its consistency.  Is it really from the Delaware River, as the jar claims?  Konczal says yes.  How does he know?

"Because Ernie Harwell said so."

All that's necessary to get the ball game-ready is a dip into the jar.  Not too much, just a half-dollar-sized dollop on the ball.  Roll it around on your palms and fingers, coating the surface evenly, making sure there's not any excess or grit in the seams.  Seconds later, the sphere in your hand looks more familiar.  Ever so slightly dinged with brown, and much easier to grip.  Play ball. 

The instructions on the jar call for a slightly different rubbing (or "massaging") method.  "If I did it their way," Konczal says, "I'd be here for hours." Considering he's been doing this for 10 years, it's safe to say his way works just fine. 

"Scott does a great job," says Tigers pitcher Jeremy Bonderman.  "He's a good guy." 

The Tigers wouldn't have anyone else performing this crucial task.  Another pair of hands rubbing down their baseballs is eyed with extreme suspicion.  You know how ballplayers are with their superstitions. 

Watch Out, Kids! It's Joe Paterno!

With Michigan playing Penn State this afternoon in football, I keep thinking of the Big Ten Network commercial with Joe Paterno going nuts at the end, like he's going to kill the kid if he refuses to play for him. Or he's really having some internal problems. (Maybe he's saying "prostate," not "Penn State.")

Here's the whole ad. I've been imitating Coach Paterno's "Come to Penn State!" all week, which is surely annoying everyone around me.

Just a Piece of Paper Now

Unfortunately, I won't have any use for this ticket today.

I guess this is a collector's item now?  Sort of?  I missed out on most of the Tigers' playoff run in 2006, so this would've been fun.  Staying home to watch football and catch up on Mad Men will have to fill the void instead.

It's Time to Honor Sparky, Detroit Tigers

From today's post at Bless You Boys:

Retire his uniform.  Put his name on the outfield wall at Comerica Park.  He's an integral part of Tigers history.  Every fan who walks into Comerica Park should see Sparky's name and reminisce about his time in Detroit and the teams he managed here.  Or, if someone isn't familiar with him, that person can turn to their companion at the ballgame, ask about Sparky, and learn.

It's long past time for the Detroit Tigers to pay tribute to Sparky Anderson.  He'll be at Comerica Park tonight, as part of the fesitivities to honor the 1984 World Series Championship team.  So while he's there, why not do what should've been done years ago?

Saturday's Alright For Winning

Back before I became a full-time baseball blogger, I probably would've had a lot to say about Michigan's 38-34 victory over Notre Dame yesterday. But after watching sports so closely and analytically for so long, it was nice to just sit back and enjoy a game completely as a fan, not a semi-pro sportswriter.

Fortunately, it was one of the most exciting college football games in my recent memory. And though it was so much sweeter because Michigan won, I honestly think I would've been happy with the effort, regardless of the result. I mean that. After last year's 3-9 record, just being competitive in a meaningful football game against a fierce rival was going to be enough for me.

Running offensive and defensive schemes smoothly, with some know-how, rather than ineptness and clumsiness, was a pleasure to watch. So was watching the coronation of Tate Forcier, the 19-year-old freshman for whom the word "precocious" might have been invented.

23 of 33 passes completed for 240 yards. A 31-yard run for a touchdown. Eluding tacklers. Throwing on the run. And leading a game-winning scoring drive that a senior quarterback might not have run with such calm and precision. This kid's going to be really fun to watch over the next four years.

I really wish my dad could've seen that game. I would've loved high-fiving and hugging him after that one. And I know he'd love Forcier.

Hail to the Victors.