On the Road

Last weekend, traveling through New England, I had a chance to sample a few new malts – not brand new out of the cask, but new in the sense that I’d never tasted them before. First, on Sunday with John, I went to Rendezvous in Central Square, which has an unusual list of malts – pretty much everything off the beaten path. In fact, their entire selection consists of independent bottlings, so even if the malt isn’t totally new, the particular selection is, and the novelty of the drink makes the experience that much more interesting. We led off with a glass of Ledaig, from the Isle of Mull. According to Jackson, this malt actually comes from the Tobermory distillery. Ledaig apparently was once the name of the village where the distillery is found. Ledaig is their peated malt, and the peat flavoring is apparent, but I found the taste more peppery than peated, shades of Talisker, although less flavorful. Nothing special really, but sufficiently distinctive that I’ll be able to remember it, if I can ever find it again.

After dinner we had Bunnahabhain 12 (again a private bottling), which was my favorite of the entire trip. This is the one Islay malt I had not previously tasted, and I found it most enjoyable. It was lightly peated, more so that Bruichladdich, but not nearly as strong as, for instance, Caol Ila or Lagavulin. And it had none of that briny Bowmore flavor which, although apparently loved by some, is the one scotch characteristic I do not care for. However, Bunnahabhain had a distinctive and unusual flavor that developed slowly on the palate, not as the malt sat on your tongue, but later, in the aftertaste, once it had been swallowed. I could not put my finger on this particular flavor, but it was like some spice in a sauce that one could detect but not identify.

Monday night I found myself in Portland Maine, and after dinner at Street & Co. (more on that in a moment), where I had a Macallan 12 with the meal, I ended up at an Irish pub on Fore Street, name of Bull Feeney’s. I was drinking with Sid Malone from Bangor, who, despite his heritage, had never before tasted Red Breast. After that introduction, we tried a 16 year old McClelland, which I cannot locate anywhere in Jackson. According to maltwhisky.com, McClelland is not a distillery, but instead is a trade name used by the folks who own Bowmore. So sometimes it’s Bowmore (this was not), or Glen Garioch (maybe), or even Auchentoshan (I don’t think so, more body than that lowland malt). In any event, it was unremarkable. And my conclusion, having tasted all these different malts, of which Bunnahabhain was really the only one I’d care to drink again, is that we’ve pretty much exhausted the remarkable labels. In other words, after the likes of Highland Park, and Talisker, and Macallan, and Lagavulin, and Bruichladdich, is there some malt waiting to be tasted that will measure up to these whiskies? I don’t think so. Perhaps some new bottling will make an appearance – for example, I noticed the other day that Aberlour is marketing a 12 that was aged in sherry. I like Aberlour, and think it’s underrated. And I look forward to giving this bottling a try. But I’m just not expecting any more to find some totally new malt – something I haven’t tried before- that will knock my socks off.

Back to Portland. G-Man wanted me to eat at Fore Street, which has an interesting sounding menu, featuring whatever is fresh at the market. Sounded great, but the guy I was with insisted that I try Street & Co., for Maine seafood. And I have to say that I had no complaints with his recommendation. Had a fabulous Portuguese style stew, with clams, mussels, monkfish and chorizo sausage. Washed down of course with Macallan. Fore Street on the next visit. And for good measure, I should also mention that Portland’s Shipyard brewery is most impressive. Sampled a couple of the local brews while sitting at the airport, waiting for my return flight. Really, that’s what I should do – just travel across the country looking for restaurants with great bars, drinking the local beers, and writing about it here on mannymontaigne. Would that be a great job or what?

It's All Over

How fitting was it that this season of disappointments ended with Josh Wright, the most selfish kid ever to wear an Orange uniform, throwing up a three that he had no business taking? And this happened only seconds after Matt Gorman left his man all alone under Clemson’s hoop, and they got a put-back with twenty seconds left in the game. Our season in a nutshell.

At least we weren’t blown out by twenty plus points. And with about ten minutes to go, that’s what it looked like. But I give Eric D and PH, and Terrance credit for fighting back, for making a game of it, for keeping the team from embarrassment in front of a national audience. It makes it hard for us to complain about the NCAA snub, if we can’t even make it to the NIT semis in the Garden. But on a night when we couldn’t buy a basket, and when Clemson had more prayers answered than the College of Cardinals, a four-point loss keeps the program respectable.

In a way, the loss is a relief. I’m done suffering the aggravation that’s been a constant companion since the middle of December. I’m done giving myself heartburn because we can’t wait for a good shot, but have to throw up the first available shot, even if it has almost no chance of going in. I’m done wondering whether Mookie will wake up, and look like he cares about the game. (Chatterbox, are you reading this?) Instead, I’ll try to wait patiently for next fall, for the most highly touted recruiting class since Gerry and Melo came in 2002. In the meantime, Jon Lester threw for the first time since he had chemo; the Herald says Manny is happy once more; and in a only a couple weeks it will be baseball season. The time of the year when things change from Orange to Red. Go Sox.

A Very Good Day

Yesterday was a good day in the Dome; Cuse drew a record NIT crowd of almost 27,000 fans. After getting snubbed by the NCAA selection committee; after a disappointing up and down season; after losing too many close games to teams they should have dominated. After all that, in a city of only 150,000, on a miserable wintry March Monday, fans filled the dome to say goodbye to this year’s seniors, who, with the exception of D-Nic, never lived up to their expectations, and never really stepped up to lead the team as seniors.

Mid-season, Coach had criticized the fans one night for booing. I had been in the dome that evening and recalled grumbling, not booing, and also felt that grumbling, even booing had been justified by the selfish play of an unnamed point guard, who had turned the ball over repeatedly, without ever passing to a teammate. But all was forgotten last night, or at least forgiven, as the fans turned out in droves, and as the coach and the seniors acknowledged the support evident in this huge turnout. Now it’s a tough road game in South Carolina. The last two losses have been on the road, and Clemson will not be a walk-over. Even though the ACC is having an off year, with only Carolina making the sweet sixteen, but eighth bid from the ACC matches up closely with seventh bid from the Big East, and the geniuses who seeded these tourneys, despite my unhappiness with being uninvited to the NCAAs, have been very accurate this year with their seeds.

It was also a good day for Coach B as he picked up his 750^th win. He had been given more airtime than any of the other coaches left out on selection Sunday. And the two nice wins, both on ESPN, have in part vindicated him, and given his complaints some credibility. It would be better yet if he’s still giving press conferences next week.

Earlier in the day, it had been a very good day for me professionally. A client had been charged with felony insurance fraud when his car ended up stolen because his friend had lent it to some gangsters in return for goods. I felt under enormous pressure in the case, not only because he was truly innocent of the charges, but because this was someone I’ve known for almost fifteen years, someone who’s become more of a friend, not just a client. I had the client polygraphed; he passed the polygraph, but the DA still didn’t care. I had terrific character witnesses, one of whom knows our DA personally, but who could not persuade them to back off. So we had to try this case, and at the end of the prosecution proof, our Judge dismissed all the charges. What’s known as a Trial Order of Dismissal. This sounds corny, but this is exactly why I love being a lawyer. It’s enormously gratifying to be able to make a difference in another person’s life. Especially when everyone and everything is lined up against the client; when it seems as though it’s me and the client against the world. There are sacrifices involved; Mike had been home for the weekend, and instead of spending Sunday with him, watching hoops, and cooking dinner, I was at the office all day, into the evening. It will be several months until we have another chance to hang out. Plus the trial schedule had kept me from getting tickets for the final game of the year in the Dome. The record-setting NIT send-off. Still, when the Judge dismissed all counts, when that enormous weight was lifted from my shoulders, when it dawned on my client that this nightmare was finally over – there is no feeling quite like that.

My client loves food, so we celebrated by going to Max’s – eating and drinking until we were both ready to resume enjoying life. What a novel idea.

A Long Way from Didama Street

I’m attempting to trace the source of the most satisfying development of the past few years – the renewal of many old friendships from childhood. (I count all the years through high school as part of childhood, mainly because it’s impossible to describe our high school years as having any relation to the concept of maturity.) I think it’s related to the annual gatherings we’ve had at Andy’s home in the Berkshires; but they originated because we all wanted to see Fran one summer when she returned from Israel, and we decided that one common visit would be more fun than having Fran schlep all over the country trying to visit each of us, one at a time. And working back further from that first reunion in Great Barrington, Susan and I met with Fran and Gidon in Neve Tzedek on our first trip to Israel in the fall of 2003.

In any event, the latest chapter of this saga takes place in Coconut Grove, Florida. This too stems from Great Barrington, because my son Mike came to Andy’s for one of the reunions, I think in 2005, and happened to meet Lew Freeman. At the time, Lew was just a face in the crowd, another geezer whose misbehavior amused Michael no more or less than anyone else’s. But the following winter, when Mike was accepted to the University of Miami Law School just as he was staying in south Florida with his grandparents, he drove to Miami to meet Lew, who then introduced him to most everyone who was anyone at the law school. Mike and Lew became fast friends; I think Mike admires Lew’s foul language; and Lew likes Mike for the gigantic Jewish star he wears outside his shirt.

Last Saturday we all went to Joe’s Stone Crab, and then back to Lew’s home in the Grove to shoot pool. I remember Lew’s home on Didama Street, just a few doors down from the G-men. You could fit that Didama Street house into Lew’s and Eddie’s bedroom suite.(Just so the uninitiated don’t get the wrong idea; Eddie is Lew’s wife. In this case, it’s a girl’s name.)The pool table used to be down in the basement; it was cool, with those green lampshades hanging down over the felt. But in those days, who had a place big enough to fit a pool table anywhere but the basement? Not any more. Now the pool table is on the old sun-porch, a room bigger than our old living rooms, with a flat screen hanging on the wall, so we didn’t have to miss a moment of SportsCenter while we played eight-ball. There were almost as many bedrooms as in our hotel, and as I recall, more dining rooms. Who eats in all these dining rooms anyway?

Meanwhile, I feel a bit vindicated, because the other two teams which had no business getting bids before the Cuse got beaten in the first round also. Georgia Tech, with an 8-8 conference record, and a 52 RPI, lost to UNLV. And more importantly, Arkansas, with its 21-13 record, 7-9 in the SEC, got trounced by USC. Stanford, Arkansas and G. Tech were the last teams in from their respective conferences, and I think they only got their bids because the committee wanted to spread the bids across the country more, or conversely, because the NCAA wanted a more distinctively eastern character to the NIT. I know these theories have been dismissed by all the pundits; and I also know that, with the seeds winning almost all the first round games, the selection process looks even more reliable. Still, I can’t get over the idea that we were robbed.

It's St. Patrick's Day, in honor of which, we drank Black Bush and Irish Mist at Max's last night. Maybe a glass of Connemara with breakfast, what do you think?

Stanford Sucks

Stanford is gone. More accurately, they never really showed up. Louisville, which didn’t lead the Big East, and didn’t even make it to the finals in the Garden, led 41-13 after fifteen minutes. Stanford managed to score a total of 20 points in the first half; that works out to one point each minute. A late run made the score respectable, but Stanford still lost by twenty. On a neutral court. I seem to recall Cuse losing to Louisville by only five, in their house, after letting a double digit lead slip away. Not that a close loss makes any kind of case for the Orange, but at least we didn’t get embarrassed.

Now explain to me why this team deserved a bid to the tournament. Their record was lousy: 18-12; their conference record was lousy: 10-8; and their RPI was lousy: around 63. And they ran up that stellar record in the Pac-10, or whatever it’s now called, hardly a dominant conference. What entitled this team to steal someone’s NCAA bid? What possible excuse was there for giving them a tournament bid, just so they could get blown out in one of the most lopsided first round games so far? Is the committee trying to retain geographic diversity? Are they afraid no one from the west coast will tune in unless they give every possible California team a bid? Jay Bilas says there was no conspiracy, just some bad selections, but this explanation only raises more questions in my mind. It provides no real answers.

Let’s see how Arkansas and Georgia Tech fare.

One More Game

Thanks largely to Eric Devendorf, Cuse gets to play once more; their season didn’t end ignominiously with a first round loss in the NIT, the wanna-be’s tourney. Down by nine in the second half, with the season seeming to trickle away, the defense stepped up a notch; South Alabama stopped hitting threes from Madison County; Cuse stopped throwing up threes and instead took the ball to the rim; and next thing we knew, there was a ten point lead with under two minutes to play. Highlights included shooting eighty-five percent from the stripe (the free throw differential made up for South Alabama’s crazy long-range shooting percentage); along with better second half rebounding and defense. But the real story tonight was Eric D. Thirty-four points; four for seven from three-ball range; and more assists than turnovers. This was especially big because D-Nic had an off night; not a terrible night, but he could never string baskets together. A shot here and there, followed by a couple misses. So let’s hope that next game sees D-Nic return to form; Andy Rautins get back on track; and Mookie contributing more than a lay-up here and there.

After Sunday’s snub, Coach B went on ESPN and lobbied for a bigger tournament. Here’s the way to do that. We have eight venues for the opening round; and in one of the eight we have a Tuesday night play-in game. Two of the putative 16 seeds get to play each other for the privilege of facing the tournament’s highest seed. So why not have eight play-in games? In each of the eight venues for the opening round, we can have a Tuesday or Wednesday game, where the 15s and 16s play off against the last eight at- large teams that don’t otherwise get bids. According to Coach B, and some Big 12 coaches, that will increase the size of the tourney, consistent with the growth in the Division I-A population over the past twenty years. Plus, if you look at this idea from other perspectives, it’s clearly fair and consistent with the tournament’s aims. Why should the weakest eight seeds, often automatic bids from the weakest conferences, keep out teams that may have a genuine competitive chance in the first couple rounds? And conversely, wouldn’t it be exciting for some sixteen seed to actually win a game, even if it’s against other pretenders and not number one seeds?

The argument against expanding the tournament is that it demeans the regular season, and rewards teams that fail to play well consistently throughout the year. Shouldn’t that be a prerequisite for getting to the NCAAs? Shouldn’t it be hard, as opposed to easy, to make the post-season? Mybe so, but the trend today, in most of the leagues, is to increase the pool of post-season teams, and not the opposite.

I think in time my idea will catch on. After all, it doesn’t really extend the tournament; it will still be only three weeks long. And it doesn’t require any new venues or preparation. The eight opening round locations just open their doors a couple days early for an extra game. They’re all set up for the first round already. It just means that the first round is another game long. And I think there’s justification for allowing all the eligible Syracuses, Arkansas’, and Stanfords into the tourney. If Niagara and Penn can play, why can’t the teams who got crossed out at the last minute?

Anyway, this year it’s the NIT; let’s hope we stay motivated, make a good showing, and vindicate all those folks who came to our defense when the committee selected Stanford over the Orange.

Chatterbox Loves Mookie

An anonymous visitor to this blog, a socialite who goes by the name of Chatterbox, has demanded that I post about Mookie. Here’s what Chatterbox says: “Watkins is the key player for SU. He stunk on Sunday.” Very perceptive, that Chatterbox. Keen insights, and some weird thought processing as well. But that’s not all: “Mookie has played quite well in many games this year.“ That’s true, but he also sleep-walked through several games. Still, I assured Chatterbox that I would write about Mookie, at the same time hoping that I’d have good things to say.

So after stinking on Sunday (I think it was actually Saturday – the regular season finale at Nova), Mookie didn’t exactly light the Garden up. Over two games he scored a total of 15 points, grabbed 17 boards, committed 9 fouls, and had eight turnovers. By way of contrast, my man PH, the new PH, playing half the game against Notre Dame, scored 24 and snared 15 rebounds. In other words, in the event Chatterbox has trouble with numbers, that means PH’s output in half a game exceeded Mookie’s totals over two games. And just in case Chatterbox hasn’t noticed this fact, PH gives up at least six inches to Mookie, and his man doesn’t play in the lane.

Sorry to say it Chatterbox, but Mookie is an underachiever. I agree that he’s had his moments. And I also agree that he’s been a key ingredient in much Orange success this year. But the bad news is that we had many games where Mookie was MIA. And this on-again off-again temperament typifies this past season for the Orange. Too often he plays indifferently, like he’s going through the motions.

So now we have to wait for selection Sunday to find out: Are we in? All the pundits say yes, after the late season run, especially the big win over G-Town. But until I see Cuse in the brackets, I’m not counting on anything. And if we’re in, where are we going? Last two years, we didn’t go anywhere, and although we’re no threat to get to the Final Four, it’s not beyond imagination that we could make the Sweet Sixteen. Check back for more important details.