NEW YORK, N.Y. - By the third or fourth time I had walked into the Yankee Stadium clubhouse this summer, I figured I had a comfort zone pretty much carved out.
It's not like I was talking nightlife with Derek Jeter, helping Mike Mussina with his crossword puzzle or quizzing Hideki Matsui's translator about his preferences in Japanese rap music, but I knew what my job was and I was starting to get a sense of how best to get it done.
As the first-ever sports intern at "Metro" newspaper — a free New York City commuter daily — I was essentially employee No. 2 in what had previously been a one-man department. That meant my beat was baseball, and it wasn't the West Side Little League.
I got thrown into the fire covering the Yankees-Red Sox game, handling pre-game and post-game interviews with players and managers in the clubhouse and watching the game from the press box in between.
By the time I'd adjusted to covering Yankees games, I'd talked with hitting coach Don Mattingly about his son, Preston, being drafted by the Dodgers. I'd asked utility infielder Miguel Cairo if it was too early to compare Jose Reyes and David Wright — his former teammates on the Mets — to their more heralded Yankee left-side-of-the-infield counterparts, Jeter and Alex Rodriguez (he said it was). And I'd crowded around plenty of big-name lockers with dozens of other reporters in an effort to drain All-Stars of every thought that had gone through their minds during the course of just-completed games.
But no experience at the House that Ruth Built could have prepared me for the challenge I would face when my beat switched to New York's other baseball team, the Mets. And — the Bobby Bonilla poster staring back at me from behind my computer demands that I mention it — the difficulty had nothing to do with my being a fan of the Mets since I was a three-month old going to watch the 1986 championship team at Shea Stadium.
Rather than my heart getting me into trouble in the Mets' clubhouse, it was my head. Specifically, my head of hair.
My first day at Shea started out like most of my days covering the Yankees had, heading up to the press box before the players arrived.
As I opened my laptop, I considered restoring the Cliff Floyd wallpaper that usually adorns my desktop, a tribute to my favorite Met. I had been forced to replace it with something less offensive at my first Yankees game, after my embarrassed boss closed my laptop while I was away from my seat.
As I decided that having a Met's picture on my screen might call into question my journalistic integrity, I looked across the press box and noticed a friendly face — that of New York Daily News columnist Filip Bondy, who taught a sports-writing seminar at Princeton during the fall last year.
I walked down to the clubhouse with Professor Bondy, trying to explain to him how I had so quickly come to share his job to join his ranks. Once there, we waited for players to file in and between interviews, I told him that the Mets' clubhouse seemed to be infinitely more laid-back than the one in the Bronx.
Bondy seconded my observation, but it wasn't until the pre-game press conference with Mets manager Willie Randolph that I found out how different a vibe really flowed through this organization.
My fellow reporters and I crammed into a small room and gathered around a desk where Randolph sat at a microphone. We spent about half an hour asking him about the daily affairs of the Mets, who were so comfortably in first place that the concern of the day was a thumb injury to catcher Paul Lo Duca — one that never caused him to miss significant time.
When the questions stopped, Randolph looked around the room and his eyes met mine. Well, just for a second actually, before moving up to my huge puff of curly brown hair.
"Hey, I love the 'fro," Randolph said, raising a black pride fist. "Power to the people."
I looked back at Randolph — whose fine career as a player began in 1975, the year Eldridge Cleaver returned from exile in Cuba and renounced the Black Panthers — and sheepishly thanked him, dropping my notepad as I half-raised a fist of my own.
Back in the clubhouse, I got more of the same treatment. Lo Duca interrupted an interview at his locker when I joined the crowd of reporters, having found something more fun to talk about than his thumb.
"Nice hair, dude," he deadpanned.
This time I just laughed, shook my head and moved on to the next interview. As Cliff Floyd took his questions, he threw enough funny glances my way that I knew what was coming.
"My man is 'fro'd out, for real," Floyd said in his Midwest-twang as he headed out to the field. "Damn."
Mockingly or not, I've finally got a wallpaper that talks to me.
Read More
No. 7 women’s lacrosse season ends in NCAA quarterfinals against No. 1 UNC
Hayk YengibaryanWith the loss, the career of senior attacker Mackenzie Blake comes to an end. Blake finished her career with a program-best 231 career goals and three first-team All-Ivy selections.
With the loss, the career of senior attacker Mackenzie Blake comes to an end. Blake finished her career with a program-best 231 career goals and three first-team All-Ivy selections.
No. 3 men’s lacrosse season ends in NCAA quarterfinals after 19–18 loss to No. 5 Syracuse
Hayk YengibaryanWith the win, Syracuse advances to the final four for the first time since 2013. For the Tigers, their season ends along with the career of senior standout attacker Coulter Mackesy.
With the win, Syracuse advances to the final four for the first time since 2013. For the Tigers, their season ends along with the career of senior standout attacker Coulter Mackesy.
Preview: No. 3 men’s lacrosse plays No. 5 Syracuse in NCAA quarterfinals
Hayk YengibaryanShould the Tigers beat the Orange, they will advance to the Final Four for the first time since 2022 as they look to win their first national championship since 2001.
Should the Tigers beat the Orange, they will advance to the Final Four for the first time since 2022 as they look to win their first national championship since 2001.