St. Petersburg Homesick Blues ...

The St Petersburg Times (Fla) made a mistake this past week and it prompted me to write a blog that has been in the "to do" column listings for all too long. So, with that said, this column is coming with some advance warnings...

WARNING: If you work in the newspaper business, please think twice before you continue to read this blog.

WARNING TWO: If you work in the newspaper industry and were the editor in charge who abdicated his throne and his professional responsibility to "let" the newspaper hire some young computer science Internet guy to run the paper's online endeavor only because you were too lazy and too insecure in your own small world to dig-in, work harder, spend more time learning new skills and broaden your scope while broadening your own value, please think twice before you continue to read this blog.

WARNING THREE: If you work in the newspaper business and you ARE or WERE the editor who -- in the last year or so -- had to walk into an office and tell one of your best writers and most loyal workers that the "current state of the economy" was forcing you to cut x% of the staff and you were offering a buyout and eliminated some jobs or even worse had to lay-off some good people, please think twice before you continue to read this blog.

***

I ask all of those editors and dead, wet suits the following question?

Why did you put the final nail in the coffin for your newspaper? Why did you lay-off the guys and gals who make people buy the newspaper? Why did you even think "the in-depth, probing, thought-provoking, long take-outs" are no longer working in the online world of 2009? Why did you follow the pack mentality and its Cameron Crowe inspired, Almost Famous loser mantra "towards the long journey to the middle."

And, I can say very honestly, this blog is not targeted at the people involved in this one decision at this one paper, this one "lay-off" or "job elimination" or whatever the human resources, legal or other influencers want to call it. It is the symbol of the overall incompetence and lack of foresight in the industry. It is the written with the knowledge that so many people in the news industry literally ignored the Internet world for so long a time before it hit them over the head and literally helped push the industry, the very business, right OUT of business.

The old newsmen proceeded to walk right down the path of destruction and into the terrible world of "protect their own jobs" and "protect their own asses" against all of the other incompetent chumps who sit around the editorial board table reminiscing about the "good old days" of journalism and the hey-day, glory years of "putting the paper to bed" and going across the street to "Joe's Pub" to talk about how great an edition you just published with the knowledge that you had another 23 hours or so before the print button had to be hit again. They all would get liquored up and not worry about getting beat for another 23+ hours.

Now, instead, there's only one paper in town or you actually share content with your crosstown rivals, and you stand around the water cooler, scratching your gray hair, complaining about the Internet and the online world we live in where the deadline is always NOW.

Yes, the whole online, Internet, or whatever else you want to call it world changed the newspaper business right before our eyes as so many watched it go by at warp-speed. Yes, they all ignored it all for a long, long while. The editors and old guard hoped it would all go away, like an 8-track tape player. But, it was the ocean of doom for the newspaper biz as we knew it and the brass tried to swim against the under-tow of progress only to be sucked right into the jet stream of death by laziness, complacency and -- even worse -- death by incompetence or ignorance.

The out of work editors, speaking at the seminars preached 'We recommend you the best job you can, work like you always did, put the efforts towards the little things like budgeting, editing, diverse hiring practices, cost-cutting and all of that stuff that the APSE continues to dish out, as they thought the big bad Dot.Coms were just going to go away. They looked at it as though it was a Pink Floyd song named "us" and "them." The old news guys vs. the young, computer-savvy geeks.

Well, you use the old cost cutting lay-off plan on the award-winning writer/reporter Dave Scheiber -- your BEST guy. And now, together with an entire nation of old newspapermen and journalism gurus. you can spend each night watching the TV shows you and your readers gaze at rather than reading deep, insightful stories about the real world. Yes, go watch "Survivor, American Idiot, I mean Idol, Who Wants to Dance with and Imbecile, Deal or No Deal" and all of the other shows that have helped the entertainment industry in its efforts to "Dumb Down" the youth of this great land of ours.

Now this is important for all to know: Dave Scheiber is a friend of mine. He will be embarrassed and, possibly appalled, when he reads this today. He is such a class act that he will ask me to take it down, I know he will. But, I will not. It is very important to know that he did not have anything to do with the fact I am writing this. It was in my mind for a long while now, ever since the good folks at "The National" pulled the plug on a terrific newspaper back in 1991. Then, the Dallas Morning News, the Detroit Free Press and the Detroit Times, the Boston Globe and The New York Times all continued the trend and ruined the industry one slow-drip coffee cup at a time. To "Good ole St. Pete" - you are only the straw that broke TL's back and forced me to cry-out to the world via The Blog@TerryLyons.com

***

Here's a few other 'behind the scenes' notes on the recent lay-off of one man, David Scheiber:

From a current blog on the St. Pete Times site by its media and entertainment critic Eric Daggans:

Please see the good-bye by editor Jack Sheppard - who wrote a wonderful thank-you note in the newsroom to his best reporter/writer.

Eric Deggans wrote in his online blog: "So to give a little more attention to a good friend, I figured I'd share the note Dave's last editor, Jack Sheppard, posted for display in the newsroom to announce Scheiber's departure:

"How do you summarize a 31-year journalism career in a couple of pages? How do you measure the impact Dave Scheiber’s work, as a writer and an editor, has had on the readers of the St. Petersburg Times? How do you capture the respect and admiration for him shared by his colleagues, who universally consider him one of the nicest guys they know?

It’s not easy, but let me try.

Dave has established himself as one of the premier sports feature writers in the country, with more than 40 national and state writing awards to his credit. Among his most prestigious honors:
• becoming the first Times writer to win first place in the Sports category of the National Headliner Awards, in 2008 for a collection of five features and issue pieces.
• winning first place in the highly competitive 2008 national Associated Press Sports Editors feature category (as well as first place in the Green Eyeshade Excellence in Journalism Sports category) for a story about World War II vets from the Kids & Kubs softball team playing their Japanese counterparts in a symbolic game near Pearl Harbor.
• winning second place in the 2009 Green Eyeshade Awards for electronic medium, for a collection of the top 25 Super Bowl Greatest Moments that Dave researched and wrote, then flew to Dallas and convinced legendary NFL broadcaster Pat Summerall to narrate (for free).

• writing revealing, in-depth pieces on a wide range of sports notables such as Nick Bollettieri, Hank Steinbrenner, B.J. Upton, Byron Leftwich, Mary Carillo, Don Zimmer and Cooper Manning – a 2004 story about the little-known older Manning brother that elicited more than 10,000 tampabay.com Web hits when Peyton reached the Super Bowl in 2007 and again with Eli in 2008.
•.writing compelling tales about unknowns, like the football dad who lost his ability to read after brain surgery but relearned with the help of his young son (a future Northeast High star). Or the St. Petersburg grandmother of No. 1 NFL pick Matthew Stafford and her excitement on draft day.
• delving into controversial issues like the international epidemic of racism in soccer, concussions in pro sports and a four-part series explaining the drought of Triple Crown winners.

• turning his two-part series about NBA referee Bob Delaney's life as an undercover agent infiltrating the New Jersey Mafia into the 2008 book Covert, which he co-authored with Delaney. The book (recently re-released as a paperback after the hardcover success) reached No. 1 on Amazon's sports biography rankings and was named by USA Today as one of the best books of 2008. The movie rights to Covert have been purchased by Appledown Films/Scott-Burns Productions in Los Angeles, and Ron Shelton (screenwriter/director for Bull Durham, White Men Can't Jump and Tin Cup) has signed on to direct and has begun work on the screen adaptation.

In his first stint in Sports, where he joined the Times as prep editor in 1978 after working as a copy aide and prep writer for the Washington Post, Dave also served as the Rowdies beat writer (’79-’82), the Bucs beat writer (’83-’84), covered the NFL at large (’85-’87) and was part of a two-year, heralded investigation of violations by coach Charley Pell at the University of Florida that was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize.

In between his Sports assignments, Dave also made his mark during 17 years in the Floridian department, as an award-winning writer and as the founding editor of the Weekend section.
As a general assignment writer for Floridian, he wrote human interest features on such names as Bo Diddley and his life on the the farm in Archer, Fla.; Clarence "Big Man" Clemons helping the underprivileged in his home near Singer Island, Fla.; a two-part series on a local Holocaust survivor in "The Voyage of Hilda Stern;" his first-person romp through Fargo, N.D., tracking down the Rolling Stones at a bowling alley; "The Baby Bunch" piece about life as the dad of six kids; and "Music Lights a Fire," a look at the mysterious genetic condition of Williams Syndrome, which produces mild retardation and a deep passion for music – a condition with which his brother was born.
For his writing, Dave won three awards in the prestigious American Association of Sunday and Feature Editors contest in six years.
During his 11 years as Weekend and Entertainment Editor (1987-1999), Dave developed Weekend into a nationally respected publication. For the cover of the 10-year anniversary Weekend section, he convinced the inaugural cover subject, Jay Leno, to pose on the Tonight Show set in 1997 while holding a copy of the first issue.
Dave’s work also regularly appeared outside the Times, most notably as a regular contributor to Sports Illustrated for five years. His portfolio included profiles of athletes such as Chris Evert, Jerome Brown, Deion Sanders, Andre Agassi, Mary Pierce, Mike Veeck and Laura Davies, with cover stories on Vinny Testaverde and Jennifer Capriati.

While Dave’s journalistic accomplishments are impressive, anyone who knows Dave knows of his devotion to his large family – wife Janie, five daughters Valerie 24; Laura 22; Mollie 19; Julia 13 and Emma 11; and son Davey, 8. And they know Dave and Janie from their two decades together on the local music scene, sharing the stage in an array of groups, for the past 10 in one of Tampa Bay's busiest party bands, Ocean Road.

Please join me in congratulating Dave on his immeasurable contributions to the St. Petersburg Times, and on wishing Dave and his wonderful family the best as they embark on the road ahead. We’ll find a time and place in the coming weeks to celebrate Dave’s accomplishments, so stay tuned."

So, as I often do, I try to find a set of lyrics to back the feelings I have deep in the back of my mind. This one is tough, because there is some anger, not focused on any one person or this one personnel decision (as I have now stated more than once), it is focused on the newspaper industry: So, to them, I recommend the lyrics in this song...

Johnny's in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I'm on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says he's got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid
It's somethin' you did
God knows when
But you're doin' it again
You better duck down the alley way
Lookin' for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten

Maggie comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin' that the heat put
Plants in the bed but
The phone's tapped anyway
Maggie says that many say
They must bust in early May
Orders from the D. A.
Look out kid
Don't matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don't try "No Doz"
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Watch the plain clothes
You don't need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows

Get sick, get well
Hang around a ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin' to sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
You're gonna get hit
But users, cheaters
Six-time losers
Hang around the theaters
Girl by the whirlpool
Lookin' for a new fool
Don't follow leaders
Watch the parkin' meters

Ah get born, keep warm
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, get blessed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Don't steal, don't lift
Twenty years of schoolin'
And they put you on the day shift
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don't wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don't wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don't work
'Cause the vandals took the handles

***

So, to the good folks at the St. Pete Times and papers everywhere who have taken the newspaper industry and worked hard, ignoring the trends to navigate their livelihood right towards the "Black Hole" of destruction, irrelevance and financial disaster, I dedicate to them two great songs, one song by the band "R.E.M," which was inspired by Dylan's "Subterranean Homesick Blues:"

That's great, it starts with an earthquake,
birds and snakes, an aeroplane - Lenny Bruce is not afraid.
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn -
world serves its own needs,
Don't misserve your own needs.
Feed it off an aux speak, grunt no, strength no.
Latter starts to clatter with fear fight, down height.
Wire in a fire, representing seven games in a government for hire and a combat site.
Left of west, was a coming in a hurry with the furies breathing down your neck.
Team by team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped.
Look at that low playing! Fine then.
Uh oh, overflow, population, common food, but it'll do.
Save yourself, serve yourself.
World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed.
Tell me with the rapture and the reverent in the right - right.
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in Foreign towers.
Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn.
Lock him in uniform and book burning, blood running.
Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate.
Light a candle, light a votive. Step down, step down.
Watch a heel crush, crush.
Uh oh, this means no fear - cavalier. Renegade and steer clear!
A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies.
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

***

LAST THOUGHT: The St Pete newspaper's loss will be a gain for so many people when Dave takes a 20-second time-out, organizes his life and family situation and rolls back into action as one of the TOP two or three writers in this country. Dave is THAT GOOD.

Dave is not taking the high road.

He IS the HIGH ROAD.

St. Pete Times on COVERT

Another tremendous review of Covert, My Years Infiltrating the Mob, by Bob Delaney and Dave Scheiber:

For inside man, no easy call

For an NBA ref, the pressure was nothing new. After all, he'd been undercover in the Mafia.

By Steve Weinberg, Special to the Times
Published February 3, 2008

Bob Delaney was a young New Jersey State Police officer in the 1970s when he accepted an assignment to take a new identity as Bobby Covert, president of a trucking company. As an undercover agent, Delaney would conduct business with members of an organized crime outfit loosely called the Mafia, including members of the Genovese and Bruno families.

Although in danger every day year after year, Delaney lived through the undercover assignment, eventually testifying to grand juries and in courtrooms to help convict dozens of extortionists who sometimes escalated to murder.

Where do you go after an experience like that? Burned out by his law enforcement career, Delaney struggled for some time with symptoms of post-traumatic stress syndrome. As a high school and college student, Delaney had excelled in basketball, so he decided to return to the sport he loved - not as a player but as a referee.

Just as most individuals who want to become state troopers fail to make the cut, most people who want to work as referees for the National Basketball Association fail to realize their dream. Delaney succeeded at both endeavors.

A couple of years ago, Delaney met Dave Scheiber, a sports journalist at the St. Petersburg Times. Fascinated by Delaney's dramatic life, Scheiber wrote a two-part series for the newspaper. When Delaney decided to tell his own story at book length, he chose Scheiber as his collaborator.

Most of the book is presented in first person; occasional passages refer to Delaney in the third person. In both types of passages, Scheiber's mission is to give Delaney's story coherence.

Other undercover police officers who infiltrated crime organizations have told their stories in book form. Perhaps the best known is Joe Pistone, a Federal Bureau of Investigation agent known as Donnie Brasco. Pistone's undercover assignment to bring New York's Bonanno crime family to justice yielded a bestselling book and a Hollywood movie.

In Delaney's book, he describes meeting and bonding with Pistone.

As a work of nonfiction narrative, Covert isn't perfect. Delaney's accounts of his undercover work are not easily verifiable, as is usually the case with memoirs of this sort. Furthermore, although Delaney emerges as mostly brave and humble, Scheiber has not prevented a dollop of hero worship from creeping into the text.

Quite likely, however, potential readers of Covert will not expect either underlying objective journalism or a skeptical tone. They will pick the book up to feed their passion for accounts of organized crime and/or professional basketball. At that, the book is a success.

Steve Weinberg is an investigative journalist and the author of eight nonfiction books.

***

Covert: My Years Infiltrating the Mob

By Bob Delaney with Dave Scheiber

Union Square Press, 276 pages, $19.950

On the Web

To see a video about Covert, go to www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9AW7KHfo9


An excerpt Covert

We wanted to understand how organized crime operated, how it infiltrated waterfront unions and strong-armed legitimate businesses. Still, there were some deals involving swag that we just couldn't walk away from. There were three street guys we got to know who said they could score "loads" from the Port - and that was of interest to us.

One day, they told us they could put together a tractor-trailer load of television sets. This sounded promising indeed. They let us know they'd bring the sets to the loading dock at about 2:00 a.m. We got there on time, and waited in the darkness. No sign of the load. At 3:00 a.m., still no sign. At 4:00 a.m., just as it seemed that a huge deal had gone south, the dead quiet of early morning was shattered by a God-awful screeching sound. We looked down the street, and here was a tractor-trailer crawling toward us. "You gotta be f---in' kiddin'," I said to no one in particular.

The idiots had no idea how to drive, and they had locked up the brakes on the trailer. They were literally dragging it to us from the port. The air was filled with the strong odor of burning rubber. I was thinking, "Great, we're all going to get arrested three months into the investigation, on our first major buy." Any rookie cop could easily have followed the trailer from the port to our building.

"What the hell are you doing?!!" I yelled to the driver.

We made them drag the trailer to the back of our building as quickly as they could, and prepared to offload the TVs to our smaller trucks. Naturally, the three stooges had no idea that everything would wind up at division headquarters and be used as evidence against them. But it turned out that the joke was on us.

We opened up the back of the trailer and instead of TVs, they had these small four-foot refrigerators. "We can't do anything with these," I told the ringleader. "We got no outlet for little refrigerators. Are you f---in' crazy?" Then they started arguing among themselves, with one of the guys screaming, "I told you we were supposed to take the other trailer!"

-30-

A soldier passes away after a tremendous journey

St. Pete Times reporter Dave Scheiber followed-up on his story - which I posted earlier today - with this sad story:


'He had a blast'
After returning from Hawaii, player, 81, dies from a heart attack.By DAVE SCHEIBER, Times Staff Writer
Published December 25, 2007

ST. PETERSBURG - Karl Sommer journeyed to the Pacific last week for an historic event, a softball game in the name of peace between American and Japanese World War II veterans.

For Mr. Sommer, who fired 40mm guns from Navy amphibious landing crafts carrying U.S. troops, it would be his final mission.

On Saturday, the morning after his return from the five-day trip to Hawaii, the 81-year-old member of the Kids & Kubs softball team died of a massive heart attack in his St. Petersburg home.

"Karl was extremely enthusiastic about the trip," said Marge Sommer, his wife of 56 years. "He had a blast. He thought that the Japanese men were just top notch in the way they handled themselves. The trip meant a tremendous amount to him."

Mr. Sommer, originally from Rochester, N.Y., was a kind and cheery presence throughout the week, and contributed two singles in the 14-2 Kids & Kubs victory last Wednesday.

"He was very excited that they won, and that he'd gotten a couple of hits, but he came home very tired," Mrs. Sommer said.

She insisted that he take a nap after the team returned Friday morning from the long 10-hour flight from Honolulu. She woke up him so he could eat dinner and watch ABC's World News Tonight report on the game, but he soon went back to sleep and awoke early Saturday experiencing low blood sugar related to his diabetes and feeling a tightness in his chest.

At first, the former St. Petersburg police detective insisted he didn't need to go to the hospital. But after his wife helped him raise his blood sugar level, he asked her to take him to the hospital after all. "I said, 'No, I'm calling an ambulance,' "she said.

Mrs. Sommer put her husband on the phone with the dispatcher and went around the house turning on every light so paramedics could find them in the early morning darkness.

She said she could hear her husband on the phone with the dispatcher the entire time. But when they entered the bedroom, the phone was on the floor and he was lying on the bed. "That is how fast it was," she said.

Before he left on his trip to Hawaii, Mr. Sommer talked with the St. Petersburg Times about his life. He was a high school sophomore in Rochester when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. He told his father, an immigrant who had fought for Germany in World War I, that he wanted to enlist.

"He said in his German accent, 'Karl, this is your country, and if you want to fight for your country, you fight for it."

Mr. Sommer joined the Navy in 1944 and left at the end of the war as a second-class petty officer, later serving in Korea. In addition to working at the St. Petersburg Police Department for nearly 10 years - earning the Ned March Award for exemplary service - he worked for the GTE Yellow Pages. More recently, he has owned a 151/2-acre orange grove near Dade City.

"Other than his diabetes, he's had good health and was very active - one of his friends told me, 'Marge, I was so jealous of Karl because he could always get out there and do everything," Mrs. Sommer said. "He had a tremendous enthusiasm for life."

Mr. Sommer was a regular at Rays games and was an accomplished painter - even creating the Kids & Kubs sign that hangs at the team's field in North Shore Park.

This was Mr. Sommer's sixth year with the team. He was a greeter at the recent team Christmas banquet and was thrilled about playing the team from Japan. "It's about letting other people know that we're all human and filled with respect and dignity toward one another," he said.

Sommer and his wife have two daughters and two grandsons. A service is planned for Jan. 3. Meanwhile, teammates reflected on his passing.

"Karl was a very fine person," said team president Winchell Smith, 88. "He was part of our family and he'll be missed."

"He was proud he made the trip and he loved it," said Irv Abelson, 82, his Kids & Kubs roommate in Hawaii.

His wife put the game with Japan another way:

"I really feel it was one of the best days of his life."

SERVICES: Funeral on Jan. 3

A funeral service will be at 11 a.m. Jan. 3 at Northeast Presbyterian Church, 4400 Shore Acres Blvd. NE, in St. Petersburg.

Dave at his very, very best

I've made note of my admiration for the St. Pete Times and writer Dave Scheiber in two previous posts. Here is Exhibit #1-A of why I love the paper and his work so much:

Southpinellas - Old Warriors, New Friends

WAIPAHU, Hawaii -- The pitch arched through the brilliant blue Hawaiian sky just past 2:30 p.m., carrying 66 years of memories from a generation that changed history.

It was a softball game, but more than a softball game.

It was a day of hope in a place that has become a symbol of infamy.

It was a showdown between the United States and Japan with bats and balls, not bombs and bullets - only a few miles from the shimmering waters of Pearl Harbor, where Japan launched its surprise attack on Dec. 7, 1941.

Old soldiers who long ago faded away into civilian life and retirement returned this week to the Pacific, many for the first time since their war years, for a goodwill contest of reconciliation and renewal.

The U.S. banner was carried by the Kids & Kubs softball team of St. Petersburg, a group of ballplayers age 75 and older. Eleven of the 15 served in the brutal Pacific Theater.

On the Japanese squad, nicknamed the Over the Rainbows, the number of World War II vets was 10.

Here they were, men mostly in their 80s, speaking different languages but sharing a common journey through a door to the past.

They played Wednesday on the diamond at Hans L'Orange Field, a pro park with lush green grass in this little town on the island of Oahu.

In the first at-bat, Toshio Fujioka, trained as a navy air corps pilot in 1945, hit a pitch to third baseman Pete Murphy, an Army quartermaster who guarded supplies during the occupation of Japan.

Murphy fired to first baseman Larry Willows, a torpedoman first-class on the USS Cabot in the South Pacific.

"Attaboy, Pete," Willows called out.

It didn't really matter that Fujioko was the first out.

What mattered was that he made contact.

Making contact was what this game was all about.

The Kids & Kubs take a five-run lead on a grand slam by Jose Merced, a 77-year-old Korean War vet added to help fill out the squad. After scoring, he says he can't wait to call his son, former major leaguer Orlando Merced.

Linescore:

Japan 0 0
USA 5 5


This historic game would never have happened if not for Harvey Musser.

In 1943, Musser was a 20-year-old Army combat engineer in New Guinea, preparing to build an airstrip. He smelled a foul odor and pushed aside some dense brush. A young Japanese soldier lay there dead.

Musser bent down and searched the man's pockets. He found a photo showing the man and his family on a picnic. Just like a photo he always carried.

"Even though he was dead," Musser said, "I remember kneeling there, saying to him, 'What the hell are we doing here?'"

The image haunted Musser for decades. When a New York TV producer named Sho Ishida came to film a Japanese documentary on the Kids & Kubs seven years ago, he met Musser, then the team president.

Musser had an idea, something that would help him get past that image of the dead solider.

Something involving a game.

Murphy stops an Over the Rainbow rally, fielding a grounder, stepping on third for one out, then firing to second for a big-league double play.

Japan 0 0 0
USA 5 0 5


Just 48 hours earlier, Murphy and his teammates sipped coffee inside Tampa International, awaiting an early morning flight to Atlanta, the first leg of their final Pacific mission.

But not everybody wanted to be part of it.

"I've seen what they did to people - tied our guys to the trees and burned them, decapitated them," Hal Fisher, 82, a former Navy bombardier, said last week.

Fisher fought all over the Pacific, in Borneo, Tinian, China and Iwo Jima. He flew cover there in a B-24, bombing the island before the U.S. troops invaded. He saw gruesome photos of fliers who had been captured and killed. The images are burned in his memory.

"I got no problem with the other guys going over there, and part of me would love to play," he said. "But I couldn't go on this trip in good faith. No way."

Yet for others who had served in the Pacific, the game represented a rare opportunity to revisit a painful chapter, to make a statement, perhaps to learn something.

"You know, for years and years, I never talked about my experience, never thought about it," said Irv Abelson, 82.

At 18, Abelson was a Coast Guard seaman in the Philippines. One night, his ship got stuck on a coral reef. He helped drive away Japanese gunboats, shining a spotlight on them from the bridge, then firing at them with a rifle.

"The way I see it, this is a very difficult time for our country," he said. "We've got our problems and need all the allies we can get. And Japan is a great one."

"It was a long time ago," said current team president Winchell Smith, 88, who repaired Army field artillery. "They were doing their jobs the same as we were doing ours."

In the bottom of the third, Tom Panebianco, an ex-Navy mechanic who sailed into Tokyo Bay at war's end, singles to start a five-run rally.

Japan 0 0 0 0
USA 5 0 5 10


En route to Atlanta, the pilot announced that a group of men on board was heading to Hawaii to play against Japanese World War II vets.

Loud applause and cheers rippled through the cabin.

On cue, Panebianco helped lead his teammates in a raucous cheer: "What's the matter with 75?! We're the guys still alive! Ho-ho let's go! Rah-rah-rah 75!"

At their next gate, several players noticed a young Navy seaman waiting alone for the 10-hour Honolulu flight. Team captain Andy Devine called out, "Hey, sailor!"

In moments, they were immersed in conversation.

Trevor Kencsan, a quiet 22-year-old electrician's mate from Ohio, got a rousing pep talk from Devine, a gregarious 81-year-old former Navy radioman from Brooklyn, N.Y.

Devine was thrust into battle in the Philippines aboard the USS Ommaney Bay. On Jan. 4, 1945, his ship was hit by a kamikaze plane in the Sulu Sea.

The plane ripped through the deck and caused a massive explosion and fire. Devine and his crew abandoned ship to safety.

"I thought I was a brave kid, but that was scary," said Devine, who later served in Korea and did three tours in Vietnam.

To this day, he remembers the horrible, bone-jarring sound of his ship blowing up.

Japan gets on the board. In the fourth inning, Kenichirou Okada, 75, triples in a run. Moments later, players and spectators hold their breath when second baseman Bert Clearwater, 85, takes a bad hop to the face, loses his balance and hits the back of his head hard on the dirt infield. Play is stopped, but he shakes it off.

Japan 0 0 0 1 1
USA 5 0 5 0 10

They settled back for the marathon flight, crossing time zones, talking, sleeping, wondering.

Clearwater, a World War II flight instructor from Beaver Falls, Pa., saw a woman nearby writing her name on a Christmas card with the inscription:

"Son, it seems like only yesterday you still believed in Santa and Christmas morning brought such a magical smile. ..."

Her son is a Black Hawk helicopter pilot in Baghdad.

"You want my autograph?" Clearwater asked with a friendly smile, then offered to have the entire Kids & Kubs combat division sign it as well.

The woman, Pearl Ganon of Hawaii, said she would love that. So Clearwater moved about the cabin, getting signatures.

"When I tell him I was on a plane with men who fought for our country in World War II, it's going to give him such a boost in morale," Ganon said. "It's going to make his day."

In the bottom of fifth, Merced has doubly good reason to call his son. He smacks a three-run homer.

Japan 0 0 0 1 1 2
USA 5 0 5 0 4 14

The jet touched down at Honolulu International at 3:04 p.m. local time.

Smith gathered his weary teammates as pretty Hawaiian women placed leis around their necks. A bus took them to their downtown hotel.

5:30 p.m. They stepped inside the plush, packed lobby of the Sheraton Princess Kaiulani as old men and suddenly became baseball stars. Four film crews from Japan followed their every move.

"We got more cameramen than ballplayers," said John Gist, who served as seaman first-class and storekeeper in New Guinea.

6:30 p.m. Former mortal enemies shook hands at a packed reception, conversing happily with the help of translators.

"It's wonderful," said Shoji Yano, 79, through an interpreter as several Kids & Kubs listened. "Americans are so big-hearted."

7:15 p.m. Event organizer Mitsuru Okoso ushered everyone into a conference room with big round tables, each designated for four American and four Japanese players. A long banner hung on the wall proclaiming, "Super Senior Baseball Match Between U.S. and Japan."

9 p.m. Larry Willows talked at one table. He saw the damage at Pearl Harbor when his aircraft carrier docked there in 1943, two years after the attack.

"They were still taking bodies off the Arizona," he said. He later faced heavy combat in the Marshall, Gilbert and Mariana Islands, fending off kamikazes.

Now, aided by an interpreter, he was engaged in conversation with Hisashi Hisaeda. The two 81-year-olds learned something remarkable: Both fought in the same 1943 battle on Truk Island in the Philippines. Willows, from White Plains, N.Y., was shelling the island; Hisaeda was desperately trying to dodge explosions and survive behind tree stumps.

Both were 17.

"I'm glad to see you here with us, alive," said Willows, smiling.

Hisaeda listened to the interpretation, then laughed and shook Willows' hand.

9:30 p.m. They posed for a snapshot, beaming like old pals.

Japan is starting to fade in the 85 degree heat, normal conditions for the Kids & Kubs.

Japan 0 0 0 1 1 0 2
USA 5 0 5 0 4 0 14


On Tuesday, the Kids and Kubs warmed up with a convincing 11-8 victory over a younger Hawaiian club. But Wednesday was the big day.

At 8 a.m., a tour bus took both teams to a pastoral hillside and the Makiki cemetery for Japanese military. Over the Rainbow players prayed and bowed solemnly before a large gravestone, a symbol of the souls of their ancestors. Kids & Kubs members watched in silence amid boom mikes and cameras.

Next stop, the Punchbowl Crater on a spectacular Hawaian mountainside, site of the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, where 78,000 American war dead are buried. A massive stone staircase leads to a statue of Lady Liberty above the peaceful resting place.

In a light drizzle, Winchell Smith and Yoshimasa Iwao presented a ceremonial wreath as players mingled comfortably.

Then, an amazing moment:

As taps began, a rainbow appeared across the sky, framing the memorial. Larry Willows and Andy Devine couldn't hold back their tears. Just as it had appeared, the rainbow began to fade as the song ended.

"I was just thinking of all the friends I'd lost in the war, and then I saw this rainbow," Devine said. "Never in a million years ..."

"God just had a gift for us," Willows said, still choked up. "It was like he was saying, 'Nice going guys. Good job getting together.'"

As they walked back to the bus, many players on both teams shook hands and hugged.

"My buddy," Iwao grinned, putting his arm around 87-year-old Walt Pawley, once a first lieutenant in the 25th Infantry Division. "My buddy," Pawley smiled back.

Soon they were gazing at the USS Arizona memorial, a large white structure in Pearl Harbor, above the sunken battleship where 1,178 bodies are still entombed. They posed for a combined team picture and joked as Devine got to steer the tourist boat back to land. Next it was off to Hans L'Orange Field. A game awaited.

Here's what stood out: The Kids & Kubs belting out the national anthem as if they were at the Olympics, then belting their eager but less talented competition with help from other military oldtimers Mike Hungo, Karl Sommer, Jim Archey (five strikeouts) and Gordon Scargle (three hits).

In the end, there were more hugs and a team photo where they all yelled "cheese!" then "banzai!"

"I feel like I have 20 new friends," Devine said.

In the background, over the stadium sound system, Judy Garland sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

For two teams of old men who discovered a surprising bond, that somewhere was here.

Meet the New Boss, Different than the Old Boss ...

Easy blog entry, as I pass along an article of interest and a suggestion:

The suggestion is---

"A good rule to live by; Anytime Dave Scheiber of the St. Pete Times writes, you should read it..."
- Terry Lyons

His own boss

After years of keeping his distance from baseball, Hank Steinbrenner is making himself comfortable as the man in charge of the Yankees.

By DAVE SCHEIBER, Times Staff Writer
Published December 16, 2007

TAMPA - He crafted his own career and life on 800 acres of gently rolling Ocala horse country, far from the massive shadow cast by his famous father. In so doing, Hank Steinbrenner opted to live away from the glare for much of the past two decades, coming up through the family farm system as a master at matching thoroughbred bloodlines and breeding champions.

Now the oldest child and son of George Steinbrenner - aging owner of the New York Yankees who made bombast and intimidation his trademark style as the Boss - is starting to cast a distinctive shadow of his own.

He has become the face and voice of the storied baseball franchise, a man who stepped into the Yankee spotlight two months ago during the awkward departure of popular manager Joe Torre, and has owned it ever since.

Working from his office at Legends Field off Dale Mabry Highway, Son No. 1 has generated a string of splashy Big Apple headlines - shelling out megamillions to bring a contrite Alex Rodriguez back into the pinstriped fold, opening his wallet to keep veteran catcher Jorge Posada and closer Mariano Rivera from leaving town, then boldly issuing a deadline and refusing so far to deal for Minnesota left-hander Johan Santana in exchange for valuable young talent.

Introducing the New York Hanks - a team taking shape for 2008 with a mix of solid old hands and promising farm products like himself.

For the record, Hank, 50, shares the role of running the club with younger brother Hal, conferring as coequal bosses on all decisions while keeping their father informed. But at age 77, Steinbrenner clearly has stepped back, leaving his two sons in charge of different phases of the operation.

Hal, who spent his formative years running the family's hotel interests, is focusing his energy on the construction of a new Yankee Stadium, set to open in 2009. Hank, meanwhile, has followed the lead of his dad, calling all the shots for the baseball team - and calling them, it seems, with the same off-the-cuff bravado for which his father was legendary.

"Maybe at times I'll shoot from the hip too much," says Hank with a deep, deliberate voice that contrasts to his father's faster, clipped delivery. "And that's an influence from my dad. But the biggest thing I learned from him is winning."

It is something he learned on his own terms. For years, he distanced himself from baseball, where there would have been precious little room to establish his own identity while following in his father's footsteps. Other than a brief stint with the team in 1985 and 1986, learning the ropes of the organization, Hank remained immersed in the thoroughbred business some 100 miles north at Kinsman Farm in Ocala, where he would produce a steady string of graded stakes champs and 2005 Kentucky Derby favorite Bellamy Road.

He shunned opportunities to become the DH - designated heir - turning down his dad's offer to run the team temporarily when the senior Steinbrenner was suspended from baseball in 1990. He watched with no regrets as one, then another brother-in-law moved into the line of succession until they became former brothers-in-law - ultimately opening the door for Hank to be groomed for a new role.

"I preferred to stay with horse racing, at that time I was even living at the farm," he said. "At no time did I wonder, 'Well, am I going to end up taking it over?' It was a situation where it was a necessity within the last year."

Hank knew the time had come to step up to the plate. And so far, the once-reluctant hot prospect from the Steinbrenner farm team at Kinsman appears to be a natural.

The Beatles to baseball

He grew up in a household where striving to be the best was expected, and as the oldest of George and Joan Steinbrenner's four children, followed in order by Jennifer, Jessica and Hal, Hank, was first on the hot seat. But he remembers plenty of good times with his dad.

The Steinbrenners lived in Cleveland, where George helped run the family shipping business, and the two often would attend Indians and Browns games. "When I was a kid, because my dad didn't own the Yankees yet, we had a lot of time to spend together," Hank recalls. "My dad and I actually saw the '64 championship game when the Browns were 14-point underdogs but destroyed the Colts 27-0."

It wasn't only about sports, either. The Boss-to-be even contributed to his young son's rock 'n' roll education.

In 1964, Hank was 7 and owned a small, cheap guitar that he banged around on at home. News hit that the Beatles were making a return concert at Cleveland's Music Hall and Hank watched all the reports on TV.

"I didn't ask to go see them, I was just following it on the news like everybody else, with all the excitement it created in the city," he says. "My dad came home from work one day and said, 'We're gonna go see the Beatles.' He was in his early 30s and into Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra and all that and he didn't know a thing about rock 'n' roll. Even at 7, I knew what to expect. But he didn't. So he got great seats, like fifth row, center. I remember every bit of that concert because we were so close.

"But the funny part was we were sitting there and there was no announcement. I'll never forget how George Harrison backed out onto the stage and he was laughing and joking with the other guys, and all hell broke loose. I mean, girls coming screaming down the aisles and people climbing on the back of our chairs. And my dad was looking around, like, 'What the expletive have we gotten into?' His reaction was classic."

For all the tempestuousness that would characterize his father as Yankees owner, Hank saw a different man at home. "As a father, he was great," he says. "As a boss, he was very difficult."

Hank was in military prep high school at Culver Academy in Indiana - attended by four generations of Steinbrenners - by the time his father purchased the Yankees in 1973. He had absorbed the family credo of hard work and the pursuit of excellence, but didn't care much for Culver or its rigid rules at the time. "I didn't like it when I was there - very few members of my class (of '76), did, due to one particular superintendent who only lasted two years. But it made me a lot tougher."

Hank already had become heavily involved with the horse farm, which his father had purchased in 1969, and spent summers throughout his teen years working at Kinsman. In contrast to his father, who attended prestigious William & Mary, Hank enrolled at little Central Methodist in Fayette, Mo., where he played soccer but dropped out before his senior year to pursue his passion for horses. He learned the ins and outs of the business at Kinsman, working with trainers, studying breeding, and gradually earning his father's trust.

But Papa Steinbrenner coaxed his son into joining the baseball business in the mid-1980s. Hank was assigned to then-GM Clyde King in '85, followed by King's successor, Woody Woodward. He saw the inner workings of the operation, with Billy Martin managing the first year, Lou Piniella the second.

"In the years I was with the Yankees, he wasn't too involved," Piniella says. "But I've gotten to know him well since then. Hank's a smart guy. Very intelligent and hospitable. Quiet and more reserved than his father. He doesn't have the bluster his dad was known for. I don't think he probably likes the limelight as much as his dad did. He's very serious - all business."

But working for the club afforded neither him nor Hal the prospect of professional growth in a world dominated by their dad. Hank returned to Kinsman, even making time to do some youth sports coaching on the side - but not the sport that consumed his father.

In 1989 and 1990, he was the soccer coach at Ocala Vanguard High, taking the team from 0-11 to 5-7 in his first season. His dad even showed up occasionally to lend his support. The way Piniella sees it, Hank needed to get away and make a life on his own - a sentiment echoed by longtime Yankees observerNew York Daily News columnist Bill Madden.

"I don't think there's any question about that," Madden says. "He told me that's why he left the Yankees after only two years when he was supposed to be really breaking into baseball. Other people have told me the same thing, that George was just oppressive to both Hank those two years and to Hal, who did a similar indoctrination into baseball in the mid '90s, brought in to become sort of a CEO in waiting.

"Neither one of them could work for their father. Hank put it best to me when he said it's one thing to work for your father; it's another thing to work with your father. He's working with him now. And he's allowed to do his job."

'A regular guy'

He's a pack-a-day smoker, but wants to quit to be a better role model for children. As a youngster, he dreamed about becoming a U.S. senator, a goal that delighted his parents. He plays a Fender Stratocaster guitar to relax, likes U2 and he says his favorite meal is pizza.

"Hank's just a regular guy you could have a beer with," longtime friend and Kinsman Farm manager Jim Scott says.

Scott manages the stunning spread that has long served as a second home for the Steinbrenners, with simple ranch houses in close proximity for the four Steinbrenner children and their families, and a slightly bigger abode on a nearby hill for George and Joan. Scott's house is next door to Hank's. They are close in age and startedat the farm in the early 1980s. When Scott left several years ago to work elsewhere, Hank lured him back to Kinsman.

"He's an amazing person," Scott says. "He's very intelligent and a real pedigree expert, one of the best I've ever met. The father of the pedigree and breeding industry was an Italian man named Federico Tesio. We used to jokingly call Hank 'Young Tesio,' but it was really no joke. He's that good."

Scott points to Kinsman's current star thoroughbred, Majestic Warrior - expected to be a Kentucky Derby contender in May - noting that the horse is a descendent of a mare Hank purchased in 1982, then managed the breeding through four generations of graded stakes winners.

"Most farms buy horses as 2-year-olds to race," Scott says. "We raise these horses for five generations. This is almost unheard of nowadays."

Scott credits George Steinbrenner with starting that tradition, and both Hank and Jessica, who serves as the farm's general manager, for helping it flourish. He says he always had a hunch Hank would one day wind up with the Yankees.

"He was always the heir apparent, he just needed the right situation," Scott says. "He's not a media hound. He doesn't mind being in the background, which is different than his father."

Scott has a favorite story about Hank. It takes place in the '80s, when George Steinbrenner was still highly involved at Kinsman.

"Hank was here in our office and we were on a conference call, and Mr. Steinbrenner was chewing me and a couple of other guys out about something," Scott remembers. "Hank was kind of sitting back, not saying anything. But he had one of those little laugh boxes, and when you pushed the button, it would go, 'Ya-ha-ha-ha.'

"So as Mr. Steinbrenner is yelling into the phone, Hank comes up from behind, puts the box right next to the receiver and all of a sudden he hits that button. That thing starts making laughing sounds. And Mr. Steinbrenner comes apart, wanting to know who was laughing during the a---chewing. I didn't think it was funny at the time, but I did later."

Finding his own voice

Hank's life has been a blur since Oct. 19, when Torre rejected the Yankees' incentive-laced, one-year offer for $5-million, $2-million less than he made this past season. When the skipper who delivered four World Series titles told reporters he found the offer insulting, Hank didn't miss a beat, firing a salvo at the popular Torre.

"Where was Joe's career in '95 when my dad hired him?" Hank told the New York Post. "My dad was crucified for hiring him."

He took some heat himself for sounding defensive, but it signaled the official start of the Hank Era. "It was such a firestorm, I felt I had to react and defend our position," he says. "You can't hide in a corner. You have to step up at some point."

Ten days later, when A-Rod opted out of his contract, shopping for a $350-million, 10-year deal, Hank made news again, proclaiming that if Rodriguez didn't want to be a Yankee, the Yankees didn't want him around anyway. But when the third baseman agreed to apologize to Hank and Hal, according to Madden, and leave agent Scott Boras outside the negotiating room, Hank welcomed Rodriguez back, paying him a still-hefty $275-million for 10 years.

Newsday's Wallace Matthews lambasted him for reversing field and overpaying, dubbing him "Boy George." Hank defends the move.

"At the time, none of us really knew what he and Boras intended, we had no clue," he says. "We just thought he really wanted to leave, so my response was if he doesn't want to be a Yankee, we're not going to chase after him. That was always our position. But we found out in the weeks that followed that he really did want to be a Yankee and had just gotten bad advice."

Hank drew some criticism again with the Santana deadline.

"There was a reason I did that," he says. "I didn't want the winter meetings to become a bidding circus; us against the Red Sox or any other team."

"He makes it very clear that the Yankees are a special entity that demand attention," Madden says. "When he put that deadline on the Santana negotiations, that's the kind of thing his father would do. He really has taken charge. He's plunged headfirst into this thing."

Stepping up - and out

He bears a certain resemblance to his father, especially the piercing blue eyes, but wears his hair closely cropped unlike the well-sculpted Boss coif. Photos often show him with a serious expression. Madden attributes that to the strain of working so many years for his father.

"He's always worked for his father in some capacity, whether it was the horses, the Yankees, whatever, and that hasn't been easy," the columnist says.

He has also had his share of personal pain, stemming from a bitter divorce that took place in Pinellas County between 2003-06. He and his then-wife raised their four children in the Clearwater area, but he now resides in Tampa.

"I hate to discuss it for the sake of my children and my ex-wife, but it wasn't easy for me," he says. By some accounts, the divorce wore him down.

But in February, then-brother-in-law Steve Swindal - the expected successor to George Steinbrenner - was arrested and charged with DUI. Wife Jennifer filed for divorce in March and general partner Swindal was out of the running and soon gone from the Yankee ranks.

Not long after, following some gentle prodding by Piniella over lunch, Hank emerged and, with Hal, joined their aging father. He needed them, not just wanted them. The time had come to return to his side. The daughters have done the same, with Jessica expanding her Kinsman duties and Jennifer supervising the New York Yankees Foundation, taking a more visible role in overseeing philanthropic endeavors in the Tampa Bay area and New York.

"I'm happy that we've all stepped up," says Jessica, married to Yankees senior vice president Felix Lopez Jr.

"I think Hank will bring a very calm perspective," says Joe Molloy, who, before his divorce from Jessica in 1997, was a Yankees general partner and a candidate to succeed the Boss. Molloy now works as a middle school teacher in Tampa. "He's very levelheaded and thinks things through thoroughly. His interest is to win and that will carry over."

But not, Hank says, as the result of an explosive management style.

"I tend to be somewhat reactive - I take things as they come, every situation is different," he says. "But as a boss, I'm definitely easy."

And finally out of the Ocala shadows, as his own Boss.

Dave Scheiber can be reached at scheiber@sptimes.com or (727) 893-8541.

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