Chloë Sevigny Brings Insouciance to Atlantic CityAtlantic City is like, dur, we’ve been doing that for years. Plus, Martha Stewart wrestles an errant speaker system and Rafael Nadal tussles with Menudo, in our daily New York gossip roundup.
Chris Smith: What Randolph RepresentedThe Mets hired Willie Randolph because of what he had come to represent. Four years later, that’s why they fired him, too.
Omar Won’t Fire Willie!
As some ponder Omar Minaya’s political strategy when dealing with Mets brass today, Newsday gives it to us straight. Minaya didn’t give Randolph a full vote of confidence in interviews with the press yesterday, but the paper reports that the Mets’ epic collapse “will not cost Willie Randolph his job.” A source close to Minaya says that his decision has already been made, and that the general manager wants to keep Randolph for the rest of his two-year, $4.25 million contract. It sounds crazy, but it’s almost as if all of the sadness on the part of Randolph and the players (combined with that apology!) has worked to defuse all the fan outrage we saw over the weekend. Either that, or they just found something new to get mad about.
Source: Mets GM Minaya Won’t Fire Randolph [Newsday]
the sports section
After Mets Loss, Nobody Even Wants to Play the Blame GameWillie Randolph cried. After the worst late-season collapse in baseball history, the Mets manager spoke to his team. Tears welled up, his voice cracked, and players later told reporters that the stoic manager actually wept. It was out of character and emblematic of the fact that what happened to the Mets (or, rather, what they did to themselves) was just sadder than anything else. Today in the papers where fans who were denied postseason play should have at least gotten to enjoy a spirited round of the blame game, there was surprisingly little finger-pointing at Randolph. It was almost as if the sportswriters felt bad for him.
the sports section
Plunking Toward Postseason
Baseball in New York has now descended into the energetic predictability of mid-career Oasis. (Which ain’t all that bad. The Gallagher brothers nearly sold out Madison Square Garden last time around and, after a few vodka cranberries and an Excedrin Migraine with extra caffeine, they sounded damn good.) There’s possibility of another Yankees-Sox matchup to which noted philosopher king Derrick Coleman would say, “Whoopty damn do.” Then there’s the lure of another Subway Series. Seriously, who is really rooting for twelve days of Mike and the Mad Dog frothing over Torre versus Randolph or reprising their asinine argument of whether Billy Wagner is entitled to use “Enter Sandman” as his entry song? I’d rather have my molars removed without anesthesia. Or watch Dane Cook shout inane baseball promos for Fox. Oh crap, that last thing really happened.
the sports section
As the Mets Swoon, Should Randolph Blame Minaya?
As the Mets have staggered toward the regular-season finish line, manager Willie Randolph’s stoic demeanor has been taking a beating: He needs to scream at his players. He needs to kick over the post-game buffet. He needs to get thrown out of a game to incite a rally. He needs to do something, anything, to kick-start some action. But Randolph played for legendarily feisty manager Billy Martin, and he knows better than anyone that those days are long gone. All he (or fans) can do now is try to figure out what’s wrong.
