Longcomp1genre5

I chose to make a magazine article for my fifth genre, which will be reviewed by my peers. Characteristics and Criteria of a Magazine Article · Date · Author · Publisher · Topic · Body paragraphs · Reasoning · Title []

Published: March 31, 2011
When I pitched in the minor leagues, we called it “stuff.” A pitcher’s currency. Hard stuff, breaking stuff, slow stuff, trick stuff. Trick stuff was Phil Niekro’s knuckleball. He won 318 major league games by digging his fingernails into the seams of a ball and throwing it toward the plate as if he were pushing open a door. Trying to hit his knuckleball was like swatting at a fly with a straw Slow stuff was a changeup like Christy Mathewson’s famous “fadeaway,” which was said to dissolve — poof! — as the batter swung. Or Stu Miller’s slow, slower and slowest changeups. Batters swore Miller didn’t throw the ball — he just put it on his arm and let his pulse carry it to the plate. Breaking stuff included a curveball, a slider and a screwball, pitches that radically changed direction as they approached the plate. The greatest curveballs (from [|Sandy Koufax], [|Nolan Ryan], Bert Blyleven, [|John Smoltz]) were thrown hard and broke almost straight down. The Unfair One is what pitches like that were called. They were unhittable. A slider was a “nickel” curve with a short, sharp, last-second break. The Hall of Famer Steve Carlton had a slider that mimicked his fastball until the batter began his swing, then the ball darted six inches off the plate. A screwball was a reverse curveball. If the arm motion behind a curveball is akin to a man gracefully sweeping a woman into his arm, then a screwball requires the opposite: the pushing away of an assailant. There have been few great screwball pitchers (Fernando Valenzuela, Warren Spahn, [|Tug McGraw]) because it’s so hard to master such an unnatural arm motion. The greatest screwballer was Carl Hubbell, who in the 1934 All Star game struck out [|Babe Ruth], [|Lou Gehrig], Jimmie Foxx, Al Simmons and Joe Cronin in succession. Hubbell’s left arm was so twisted that it hung by his side, his palm facing away from his body. Hard stuff was a fastball (Bob Feller, Sandy Koufax, Nolan Ryan) thrown near 100 m.p.h., and with movement. Koufax’s fastball seemed to rise from a batter’s waist to his eyes as the batter swung. Some great fastballs moved left, right, down — and some mediocre fastballs became great fastballs as they approached the plate and then, impossibly, seemed to pick up speed. The greatest starting pitchers had at least one Unfair pitch, maybe two. Some great pitchers, like Whitey Ford and Spahn, never had an Unfair pitch but an assortment of excellent pitches instead. The game has changed a lot since those days. But, as one pitching coach has said, “the game never changes to help pitchers.” That’s why today’s pitchers have been forced to evolve from predators to jackals. “Pitchers today don’t out-stuff hitters,” [|Buck Showalter], the Baltimore Orioles manager, says. Pitchers today are con men, pickpockets, masters of deception. Their weapons are small pitches: cutters, splitters, circle changeups. No team in baseball today has a greater number of successful deceptive pitchers than the Philadelphia Phillies. They have brought together four of the best starting pitchers in the game: Roy (Doc) Halladay, a 33-year-old two–time Cy Young Award winner; Cliff Lee, 32, and also a Cy Young winner; Roy Oswalt, 33, with 150 career wins; and the 27-year-old Cole Hamels, a World Series hero three years ago. Before they have even thrown one pitch for the same team, they are being hailed as the best four-man rotation in baseball, maybe the best ever. They are being compared with the great staffs in baseball history: the New York Yankees in the 1930s; the Cleveland Indians in 1954; the Orioles with their four 20-game winners in 1971; and the Atlanta Braves in the 1990s. As soon as Lee rejoined the team last December, the Phillies immediately became everyone’s favorite to win this year’s World Series. And necessity may push those expectations even higher now that the Phillies are dealing with injuries, most worryingly to their star second baseman and No. 3 hitter, Chase Utley, and must rely even more on their pitching. Every morning I checked the bulletin board to see who was throwing a bullpen session under the watchful eyes of Rich Dubee, the Phillies’ pitching coach. When Halladay’s name appeared, I asked Dubee what time Halladay would throw. “Whenever,” he said. Dubee had an ineffectual minor league career before becoming a pitching coach. He said the hardest part of his job was “to stay out of their way and not screw it up.”
 * Last month** I went to the Phillies’ spring-training camp in Clearwater, Fla., to see for myself how their star pitchers stacked up against my idols from back in the day. I went straight to Greg Casterioto, the media guy, for my credentials. He laid down the ground rules. I couldn’t approach any of them at their lockers, in the weight room or on the field until he had spoken to them about an interview. Not even to say hello. He said the three older pitchers were nonverbal and gruff because they felt talking about their pitching might jinx it. Halladay, in particular, was very focused, always in some psychic zone that excluded others. “He works out at 5 a.m. for five hours before practice,” Casterioto said.

[] Dramalot By [|James Poniewozik] Sunday, Apr. 03, 2011 Political TV docudramas, not unlike the Bay of Pigs invasion, are proxy wars. The battles over them tend to be less about their lasting effect on history and more about a camp's power to protect its icons. Conservatives agitated CBS into pulling //The Reagans// in 2003, saying it cast the Gipper as a bigot and a nitwit (it eventually ran on Showtime). Before ABC's //The Path to 9/11// aired in 2006, former Clinton aides blasted it as unfair to their Administration. If people remember anything about those two miniseries, it's probably the controversies, not the acting. So it will be with //The Kennedys//, developed for the History Channel by Joel Surnow, creator of 24 and a self-described conservative (in partnership with screenwriter Stephen Kronish, a self-described liberal). Before the cameras even rolled, the series was attacked by Kennedy associates and some historians, who decried early, leaked excerpts as a political smear. Defenders of the project argued that the network was being unduly pressured by politically interested parties and Kennedy family members. (See behind the scenes in the Kennedy White House.) In January, History announced it was dropping the eight-part series, saying it was "not a fit" for its brand (unlike, say, reality shows about pawnshops and ice-road truckers). The show was turned down by several networks and was finally bought by Reelz, a movie channel occupying reaches of the dial calculable only by advanced math; it premieres April 3. I've seen //The Kennedys//, and however outrageous early drafts may have been, the final product may be the least shocking "controversial" TV drama you'll ever watch. Certainly it resists viewing the family through Rose Kennedy — colored glasses; a running theme is the blunt ambition of patriarch Joseph Kennedy Sr. (Tom Wilkinson) and his willingness to use the family money to buy power. There's some suggestive gossip, debatable in historical detail (two words: Marilyn Monroe), and the first time we see JFK, he's popping pills for back pain. (See the Kennedy brothers as part of the top 10 political prodigies.) But this is all the stuff of past books and numerous miniseries that generated less partisan heat, maybe because no Hollywood conservatives were involved. As for John F. and Robert F. Kennedy — the story ends in 1969, and Teddy is nowhere to be seen — //The Kennedys// presents them as men of deep (at least public) integrity. It tells us JFK (Greg Kinnear), in so many words, "saved the world" in the Cuban missile crisis, portrays Bobby (Barry Pepper) as a principled if zealous scrapper and puts them squarely on the right side in the civil rights struggle. //The Kennedys// is also — in case anyone cares — pretty bad TV: melodramatic, rote and grim. As Jackie, Katie Holmes juggles about five competing accents, all incorrect. Kinnear gets JFK's gravitas (and accent) but not his charisma. The most vivid character is pushy paterfamilias Joe, and after he suffers a stroke in 1962, the series feels hobbled as well. The eight hours jerk from obligatory historical scene to familiar biographical moment, held together by the most clichéd theme: that this American dynasty reached great power at a great price. //The Kennedys// might have been better if it were more political or at least had a better-defined take. Historical miniseries shouldn't pass off lies as truth, but there's a reason docu//dramas// are not docu//mentaries//: they show history from a subjective viewpoint, be it Oliver Stone's or William Shakespeare's. They use facts and dialogue in the service of story and insight. There's nothing wrong with that; it's part of how history's argument is carried out. As it is, you get a more vibrant feel for the '60s ferment from the fictional //Mad Men// than from the factional wax museum of //The Kennedys//. After this experience, 24's Surnow might want to go back to making up things for series TV. The results would probably feel more lifelike. = London's Brawn Diner = By [|SUDI PIGOTT] Thursday, Mar. 31, 2011 Brawn may be its name, but it's not just aficionados of the classic pig's-head terrine who are hotfooting it to this diner in London's hip Bethnal Green. It's everyone who appreciates what's au courant on the London culinary scene: plates for sharing, the revived art of charcuterie and biodynamic wines. Book well ahead if planning a Sunday visit. The local flower market will be in full bloom, the quirky design boutiques will be doing brisk business, and hipsters from near and far will be crowding Brawn's open brickwork interior. Chef and co-owner Ed Wilson and wine importers Les Caves de Pyrene first hit the London scene with Terroirs in Charing Cross. It served small dishes of French and Basque cuisine, accompanied by wines made with wild yeasts, no additives and minimum intervention. They were mostly unfiltered, too, with their cloudiness considered the ultimate expression of the artisan vigneron. (See 50 essential travel tips.) Terroirs is echoed in Brawn's menu and extensive, explicitly annotated wine list. A "taste tickler" of zingy radishes with pungent //anchoïade// (garlic-and-anchovy paste) is perfect for mulling over your choices, which should include the superlative and feisty Tuscan beef tartare with rosemary and anchovies. //Plancha// pickings change daily and, if you're lucky, will include quail with romesco sauce — so tasty it demands finishing with the fingers.

Manson’s Marriage on The Rocks January 4, 2007 By Joseph Parker  Musician Marilyn Manson has a new spark in his life. You ask what this spark could be; it is new wife Dita Von Teese. Old fashioned Von Teese is an American burlesque artist; model and actress. On November 28, 2005, Manson and von Teese were married in a private, non-denominational ceremony in their home. A larger ceremony was held on December 3, at Gurteen Castle, in Kilsheelan, County Tipperary, Ireland, the home of their friend, Gottfried Helnwein. The wedding was officiated by surrealist film director and comic book writer Alejandro Jodorowsky.  The couple had reportedly met when Marilyn Manson contacted her to dance in one of his music video. Since she had previous arrangements she could not do the video. The two kept in contact and continued to talk. On Manson’s 32nd birthday the two became a couple. Following on March 22, 2004, Manson reportedly proposed with a  1930s era, 7 carats, European round-cut diamond engagement ring. The couple is very unique and looks to be together for a long time.