Posts Tagged ‘Mobile Army Surgical Hospital #4077’

The Trade That Shocked the Hockey World

Tuesday, May 2nd, 2017

1975 was a year of shocks in popular culture.  M*A*S*H killed off Henry Blake, the lovable, goofy, and semi-competent lieutenant colonel in charge of Mobile Army Surgical Hospital 4077; Jaws injected fear into filmgoers thinking about going to the beach for summer recreation, lest they be shark attack victims like the ones portrayed on screen; and the Boston Bruins traded Phil Esposito to the New York Rangers.

Esposito going to New York was not, to be certain, a global event.  Or even a national one.  For Bostonians whose devotion to sports knows no boundaries of faith, though, it was an upset of the natural order of things.  Sure, Esposito started his career with the Chicago Blackhawks, but he flourished in Boston—milestones include two Stanley Cup wins, a perennial NHL All-Star selection, and two-time winner of the Hart Memorial Trophy, which honors the player most valuable to his team.  Not since the Red Sox traded Babe Ruth to the Yankees after the 1919 season had betrayal pervaded the city, from Beacon Street to Boston Harbor.

“I’m crushed.  I thought I had found a home in Boston,” lamented Esposito, quoted by Tom Fitzgerald in the Boston Globe.

Esposito emerged as a New York City icon, much like his fellow Boston transplant.

Boston sent defenseman Carol Vadnais to the Rangers with Esposito, who played center.  In return, New York let go defenseman Brad Park, center Jean Ratelle, and Joe Zanuss—a defenseman for the Providence Reds, the Rangers’ American Hockey League affiliate.

Boston Globe sports columnist Leigh Montville ascribed the term “garbageman” to Esposito because he scored goals that were neither flashy nor dramatic, thereby igniting a touch of scorn.  But when Esposito journeyed down I-95 toward his new home, scorn gave way to unease.  “One difference already has surfaced here,” wrote Montville.  “The people—the same people who were cold toward Esposito and his records—now seem worried.  They see a big hole in the scoring totals.  They see a lot of goals that aren’t going to be scored.  They see a lot of things that might not be done.

“That is the way it is with a garbageman.  You never miss him until he’s not around.”

Esposito led the Rangers to the 1979 Stanley Cup—the marauders of Madison Square Garden lost to the Montreal Canadiens in five games.

Still, decades later, the trade causes angst for Esposito.  Toronto Sun sports columnist Steve Simmons chronicled Esposito’s viewpoint in 2013:  “I didn’t choose to leave Chicago.  I didn’t choose to leave Boston.  I signed a contract in Boston for less money than I could have gotten from going to the WHA.  I could have made millions doing that.  And you know how they repaid me?  Three weeks later, they traded me (to the New York Rangers).”

Retiring after the 1980-81 season, Esposito transitioned to being an assistant coach for the Rangers—his post-retirement duties also included general manager, head coach, and analyst for televised games on MSG Network.

Esposito spearheaded the founding of the Tampa Bay Lightning, along with his brother, Tony, a fellow NHL standout; in 1992, the Lightning débuted in a 7-3 victory against the Blackhawks.  Phil Esposito and Tony Esposito are members of the Hockey Hall of Fame, inducted in 1984 and 1988, respectively.  Notably, the former’s biography page on the Hall of Fame web site depicts him in a Boston Bruins uniform.  And so it is in the memories, imagination, and Bruins lore for fans of a certain age.

A version of this article appeared on www.thesportspost.com on January 18, 2017.

M*A*S*H, Prime Time Television, and the California Angels of 1977

Thursday, April 6th, 2017

If fans of the California Angels tuned into the CBS television show M*A*S*H on February 27, 1977, they would have seen familiar names during the closing credits—the Angels’ infield: Grich, Chalk, Remy, and Solita [sic].

Tony Solaita—First Base

Jerry Remy—Second Base

Bobby Grich—Shortstop

Dave Chalk—Third Base

M*A*S*H exhibited the antics, anguish, and anger of doctors, nurses, and other staff of the fictional Mobile Army Surgical Hospital #4077 during the Korean War.  It was nicknamed the four-oh double-natural in the eponymous novel, which begat the eponymous film, which begat the eponymous television show, which aired from 1972 to 1983.

The episode “Dr. Winchester and Mr. Hyde” revolves around Dr. Charles Emerson Winchester III, a pompous sort, refusing to manage his rest.  That, of course, sends him to the cusp of exhaustion.  In turn, he uses amphetamines to endure.

During his blissful ignorance of addiction, Charles treats the company mouse, Daisy, with amphetamines before her race with Sluggo, a mouse champion from the Marine unit recovering in the postoperative ward.  It induces bets from the 4077th personnel, who are unaware of Charles’s action, none making a bigger bet than Charles.

Hawkeye Pierce and B.J. Hunnicutt, Charles’s bunkmates, discover the egotistical surgeon after the race; his blood pressure is 160 over 100.  In addition, he is suffering heart palpitations.  Surmising that Charles’s condition is not a consequence of long hours in the Operating Room, they deduce—and confirm—that Charles is using amphetamines.  Thereupon, Charles also admits to drugging Daisy.

According to the closing credits, the Marines are named Grich, Chalk, Remy, and Solita.  Whether the misspelling of Tony Solaita’s name results from intent or accident is unknown.

Norm Sherry and Dave Garcia managed the 1977 Angels, each for half of the season—81 games.  The team finished 5th in the American League West, compiled a 74-88 record, and scored 6th place in American League attendance.

The Angels were part of baseball history in the same year that John Travolta danced to box office success in Saturday Night Fever—they played the Seattle Marines on Opening Day, the first major league game for Queen City since the Pilots disbanded after one season.

Nolan Ryan, the Angels’ star hurler, had a banner year in ’77:

  • 19-16 win-loss record
  • 2.77 ERA
  • Led major leagues in complete games (22)
  • Led major leagues in strikeouts (341)

Frank Tanana, a Detroit native, also made a highly significant contribution:

  • 15-9 win-loss record
  • Led major leagues in shutouts (7)
  • 2.54 ERA

Offensively, the best player on the Angels squad was Bobby Bonds, father of notorious slugger Barry Bonds—the patriarch bashed baseballs all over American League turfs:

  • 37 home runs
  • 156 hits
  • Led Angels in games played (158)
  • Tied for 2nd in home runs—with Graig Nettles—(37)
  • 2nd in RBI (115)
  • Tied for 3rd in stolen bases—with Jerry Remy (41)
  • Tied for 3rd in sacrifice flies—with Rusty Staub and Carlton Fisk—(10)
  • Tied for 4th in extra base hits—with Al Cowens—(69)
  • Tied for 7th in runs scored—with George Scott—(103)
  • Tied for 8th in plate appearances—with Cecil Cooper and Duane Kuiper—(679)
  • 6th in total bases (308)

A version of this article appeared on www.thesportspost.com on June 29, 2016.

Football and Comedy

Saturday, February 18th, 2017

Football, a brutal sport symbolizing man’s primal quest to conquer territory, offers humor as compelling as the viciousness of Dick Butkus, the grace of Lynn Swann, and the agility of Walter Payton.

Necessary Roughness exemplifies the underdog theme, a common focus in sports films.  Film critic Roger Ebert noted, “I fell for it again this time, because it was well done, and because the movie doesn’t try to pump itself up into more than it is, a good-humored entertainment.”

Starting from scratch after a corruption scandal, which includes recruiting violations and steroid abuse, forces the firing of its coaches and the expulsion of its players, except one, the Texas State Fighting Armadillos hires Coach Ed “Straight Arrow” Gennero.  A lack of players forces him to rebuild by employing “iron man” football, where the same players take the field on offense and defense.

At the heart of the team is a player who might have ranked with Joe Montana, Dan Marino, and Terry Bradshaw as one of the best quarterbacks ever.  Paul Blake, on the verge of entering college, quit football to take care of his family’s farm after his father died—a decade and a half ago.  To pass the time, Blake throws footballs at a scarecrow that he dresses with a football jersey.

Necessary Roughness utilizes the device of gathering misfits coming together to win the game against a superior opponent.  Blake throws the winning touchdown to Charlie Banks, the only player remaining from the corruption-laden squad.

Little Giants, too, relies on the underdog story, pitting the O’Shea brothers—played by Ed O’Neill and Rick Moranis—against each other.  Kevin O’Shea is a former Heisman Trophy winner, hence, a football legend in his hometown of Urbania, Ohio.  Now a pee wee football coach, Kevin prides himself on leading the best players Urbania has to offer.  Danny, meanwhile, strives to lead the misfits cast off by Kevin.  During halftime of the climactic game between Kevin’s Little Cowboys and Danny’s Little Giants, Danny tells a story about how he beat Kevin racing their bikes down Cherry Hill, an iconic part of Urbania.  It only happened once, but it proves that you only need “one time” to score a victory.

A trick play called “Annexation of Puerto Rico” helps the Little Giants defeat the Little Cowboys, despite the latter’s superiority.

The Replacements told the story of the fictional Washington Sentinels during a players strike.  Shane Falco finds another shot at football stardom when he replaces Eddie Martel as the Sentinels quarterback.  A college phenom, Falco suffered an ignominious defeat in a bowl game, burned out quickly in the professional ranks, and wonders what might have been.  Jimmy McGinty, the newly hired coach, recruits Falco along with other players who, under other circumstances, would never get a second look.  Or a first one, probably.

Martel crosses the picket line, though the players don’t have the same respect for him that they do for Falco.  McGinty sends in Falco, the Sentinels win, and another underdog football story ends in victory.

Gene Hackman, Keanu Reeves, and Brett Cullen played, respectively, McGinty, Falco, and Martel.

On his web site www.brettcullen.com, Cullen revealed his awe at standing on the field at Nextel Stadium—which served as the Sentinels’ home stadium—with the film’s location manager.

“I call him the first night I got into Baltimore and said, ‘Let’s get together.  I’d been there for a day,” Cullen explained.  “So, we had dinner at McCormick and Schmidt’s and after dinner we got in his car and he said, ‘Come on, I want to show you something.’  We drove over to the stadium, which was completely dark.  We went around to the back entrance and he flashed his badge to security and they let us in.  We walked onto the field and out to the 50-yard line in the Ravens stadium, and you look at all those seats being full, and you’re playing football and you’re in a fishbowl and everyone’s screaming at you—it’s a lot like being a gladiator.  I saw it and went, ‘I get it now.’  That was real thrilling for me.  That was one of those moments before we started doing the picture that I went, ‘Wow this is going to be cool.'”

The Longest Yard stars Burt Reynolds, James Hampton, Michael Conrad, Bernadette Peters, and Eddie Albert.  This 1974 film centers on a game between prisoners and prison guards.  It’s fixed, though—the warden ensures a victory for the guards by threatening Paul Crewe, played by Reynolds.  Crewe, a former pro quarterback, was known to fix football games.  In turn, the prisoners think he’s thwrowing this game for some kind of bribe.  All is going according to the warden’s plan until Crewe decides to turn against the warden.

In his memoir But Enough About Me, Reynolds exposed his method of filming at a real-life prison—Georgia State Prison in Reidsville.  “I’d filmed in prisons before, and I knew it was essential to have the inmates on your side, so in addition to building a football field complete with bleachers, we had six basketball courts installed on the yard.  I also knew from experience that every prison has its inmate leadership, so I went to the top man and made him my stand-in.  His name was Ringo.  He looked like a Brahma bull with glasses and he was serving ninety-nine years for manslaughter and kidnapping.

“Six months later I was in Nashville shooting W.W. and the Dixie Dancekings when who should appear at my trailer door but Ringo.  There were a couple of state troopers guarding me, and I was afraid of bloodshed if they knew who he was, so I sent him to James Hampton’s trailer.  Ringo told Jimmy that he’d decided ‘to take a vacation.’  The next time I saw Ringo, he was leaning against a wall watching us shoot a scene.  A week or so later I heard that he was back at Reidsville, in solitary confinement.

M*A*S*H, based on the novel by Richard Hooker, revolves around the antics of the doctors, nurses, and enlisted men at Mobile Army Surgical Hospital #4077 during the Korean War.  A football scene gives real-life NFL player Fred Williamson an opportunity to showcase as Dr. Oliver Harmon “Spearchucker” Jones, a neurosurgeon who also played professional football for the 49ers.  Through Jones’s tutelage, the 4077th team creates sufficient confidence to place a bet with the rival team from the 325th Evacuation Hospital—with one catch, however.  Hawkeye devises a scheme to keep Jones out of the game for the first half.  Then, the 4077th will get larger odds from the 325th, bring Jones into the game, and receive a windfall upon victory.

In his review of M*A*S*H for the New York Times, Roger Greenspun wrote, “In one brief night scene, some MASH-men and the chief nurse meet to divide the winnings of the football game.  In the distance, a jeep drives by, carrying a white-shrouded corpse.  The nurse glances at it for a second, and then turns back to her happy friends—and we have a momentary view of the ironic complexities of life that M*A*S*H means to contain.”

Forrest Gump features the title character as an outstanding kick returner for the University of Alabama.  In turn, he becomes an All-American football player.  After college, Forrest becomes a war hero in Vietnam, a ping-pong champ, and a shrimp tycoon.  In his review for the New York Daily News, Dave Kehr commended director Robert Zemeckis and Tom Hanks, who played the title character, on creating Forrest’s life journey from the 1950s to the 1980s.  “With Hanks’ graceful and creative performance at the center (his first role since his Oscar for ‘Philadelphia’), Zemecks combines a mastery of wide-screen composition, camera movement and long-term patterns of theme and image to create na original and deeply moving experience,” wrote Kehr.  “The sweetly sentimental and the unbearable grotesque exist side by side, with little to mediate between them.”

An episode of The Odd Couple features Alex Karras as a guest star.  In the episode “That Was No Lady,” Felix engages in a romance with a woman named Melanie, who shares his passion for New York City’s culture.  Unbeknownst to Felix, Melanie is the wife of Jarrin’ Jake Metcalf, a football star, who’s working with Oscar on his autobiography.  When Felix wants to confront Jake because love has made him strong, Oscar responds, “Strength has made him stronger.”  In the end, Melanie returns to Jake leaving Felix with wonderful memories that hopefully dull the pain of heartbreak.

Silent film star Harold Lloyd stars in The Freshman, a comedy about a college football player.  The Turner Classic Movies web site lauds the film’s production qualities, sourced to Lloyd’s attention to detail:  “The Freshman lacks the high stakes of Keaton’s comedies and the pathos of Chaplin’s struggles but it doesn’t lack for comic invention or filmmaking polish.  Longtime Lloyd collaborators Sam Taylor and Fred C. Newmeyer direct and his regular writing team (Taylor, Ted Wilde, John Grey, and Tim Whelan) provide the story, gags and titles, but this is Lloyd’s production down the line and lavishes all the time and money necessary to perfect every gag.  The campus backgrounds are filled with students, the big dance has Lloyd maneuvering through throngs of couples while quite literally tearing his suit apart (a hilarious sequence that builds to a predictable yet comically perfect gag finale), and the big game looks like ti was shot at a real championship match.  Throughout it all, every last extra seems to hit their marks and react on cue.”

A version of this article appeared on www.thesportspost.com on February 7, 2016.

Betting, Blindness, and Baseball

Tuesday, January 31st, 2017

Baseball is a game of sounds.

The crack of the bat.  The roar of the crowd.  The shouts of the vendors.

Radio announcers, of course, provide sonic backdrops from optimism lacing spring training to tension surrounding the World Series.  Ernie Harwell, Vin Scully, Red Barber, and scores of other broadcasters became civic fixtures by keeping fans informed of balls, strikes, and outs.

In the M*A*S*H episode “Out of Sight, Out of Mind,” Captain Benjamin Franklin “Hawkeye” Pierce imitates an Armed Forces Radio Network announcer to deceive the deceiver—Major Frank Burns listens to a late night broadcast of a Dodgers-Giants game, makes bets with unknowing colleagues at Mobile Army Surgical Hospital #4077 before the rerun of the broadcast, and collects generous windfalls.

Blinded by an accident when an attempt to fix the nurses’ “temperamental gas heater” results in an explosion, Hawkeye adjusts to his newfound sightlessness after being treated by Major James Overman, the ophthalmologist from the 121st Evacuation Hospital.  A patient blinded by a grenade blast, Tom Straw, a high school English teacher from San Francisco, bonds with Hawkeye, who gets assistance from his colleagues in navigating the challenges of blindness—Radar, the Company Clerk, reads his mail; Maxwell Klinger, a corpsman trying to get a Section 8 discharge by dressing in women’s clothes and Margaret Houlihan, the 4077th’s Head Nurse, guide him around camp; and Dr. B. J. Hunnicutt, Hawkeye’s bunkmate and fellow surgeon, offers emotional support.

It’s a journey of revelation for Hawkeye, who queries Dr. Overman whether he would get to keep his nickname.  To Hawkeye’s wonder, blindness elevates the acuity of other senses.

“When Dr. Overman comes in here and unwraps my package, I hope to God I’ll have my sight back.  But something fascinating has been happening to me,” he reveals to B.J.  “One part of the world is closed down for me.  But another part has opened up.  Sure, I keep picturing myself on a corner with a tin cup selling thermometers, but I’m going through something here I didn’t expect.  This morning, I spent two incredible hours listening to that rainstorm.  And I didn’t just hear it, I was part of it.  I bet you have no idea that rain hitting the ground makes the same sound as steaks when they’re barbecuing.  Or that thunder seems to echo forever.  And you wouldn’t believe how funny it is to hear somebody slip and fall in the mud.  It had to be Burns.  Beej, this is full of trap doors, but I think there may also be some kind of advantage in this.  I’ve never spent a more conscious day in my life.”

Hawkeye deduces the gambling scheme devised by the persnickety Burns by recruiting B. J., Radar, and Klinger to broadcast a fictional play-by-play of an Indians-Yankees game through the camp’s electronic equipment.  The next day, Dr. Overman returns from the 121st Evac, removes Hawkeye’s bandages, and, along, with the 4077th’s staff, celebrates the restoration of sight.

When the bettors learn the real score of the game, they chase Burns for their winnings.  As B.J. and Hawkeye witness the pursuit, the former declares that the previously blinded surgeon is a lucky guy.

“Yeah, I got lucky twice,” responds Hawkeye.  “First, I got the chance to see without my eyes and then I got ’em back.”

A version of this article appeared on www.thesportspost.com on January 14, 2016.