Dipping Into The Archives Vol. 25

Long post today, thank goodness I had an extra hour.

1996

Before proceeding, my old copy of the 1996 yearbook is one with enough water damage that it’s unsalvageable, so I won’t have the usual number of photos this week. With that out of the way, the 1996 Mets season had an inordinate number of peaks and valleys. On one hand, some of the most productive individual seasons in team history took place that year. On the other hand, the year provided a stark reminder that young pitching will break your heart. The team only won 71 games with a 4th place finish but there was also a late season change in the manager’s office that would pay off big time down the road.

Spring training opened with much excitement surrounding a trio of young pitching prospects. Bill Pulsipher and Jason Isringhausen were promoted to the big leagues in the middle of the previous season and found immediate success. They were to be joined by Paul Wilson, the #1 overall pick in the 1994 draft. The trio were dubbed Generation K, and fans remembering well the fact that both previous championships in team history were largely built on the foundation of groups of young pitchers maturing simultaneously had visions of glory dancing in their heads.

One of the ongoing stories in spring training was that there were more than 5 potential starting pitchers. Who would sit? Well, things have ways of taking care of themselves and perhaps the club was punished for hubris. Things went downhill in Pulshiper’s final spring training start, as he walked off the mound with a notable grimace on his face. The bad news soon came - torn UCL, Tommy John surgery, out all season, and all of 1998 too for that matter. It didn’t end there. Isringhausen hit a major sophomore slump, and Wilson struggled in his rookie year. That was only the start of his problems. His shoulder started to bark, and injuries kept off the mound until 2000, by which time he was a member of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. After all of the Generation K anticipation, the Mets 1996 team leader in starts, wins, innings, ERA, essentially every meaningful stat was… Mark Clark. Just as everyone expected.

The season wasn’t a complete loss. Todd Hundley had a monster year at the plate, setting records that have since been broken for most home runs in a single season as a Met & as a catcher. In addition, two offseason acquisitions made major impacts. Bernard Gilkey got some down ballot MVP votes following a 117 RBI season coupled with a .317 batting average. And Lance Johnson led the National League in hits & in triples. 1996 was his only full season in a Mets uniform, so seeing his name appear so many times on the franchise single season leaderboard really stands out.

The Mets also made a big trade deadline deal which did not work out as hoped. Unlike most deadline moves, this was an exchange of major league players & not a veteran for prospects one. Jeff Kent and Jose Vizcaino were sent to Cleveland in exchange for Carlos Baerga and Alvaro Espinosa. Kent was productive during his time at Shea; he could be counted on for 15-20 homers a year with an average around .280. That’s above average production for a middle infielder; his subpar defensive work lessened his overall value to some extent. Basically you’re looking at a precursor to Daniel Murphy. He only spent a half season in Cleveland, but his production exploded upon joining San Francisco in 1997; I believe he deserves to be in the Hall Of Fame. As for Vizcaino, he came back to haunt the Mets in Game 1 of the 2000 World Series.

Baerga became one of the biggest mysteries I can think of. He was an outstanding hitter in Cleveland, racking up multiple All-Star appearances and Silver Slugger awards. In addition, he was credited as being a real team leader, particularly following the tragic events in spring training 2003 when 2 members of the team were killed in a boating accident. But his production took an inexplicable dip in 1996, which is why Cleveland traded him. He was only 27, there was no reason to fall so far so fast. But he never got his groove back.

A month after that trade a more important change took place. The Mets finally fired Dallas Green as manager and replaced him with Bobby Valentine. Green’s my way or the highway style had grown tiresome and did not produce winning seasons, so the time was right. Bobby V’s rah-rah demeanor was a sharp contrast to Green. Valentine had his share of confrontations with players himself, but he was still a welcome change from the previous regime. There was no longer a need for everyone to be on pins & needles 24/7.

Valentine already had a bit of a history with the team. He came up as one of the game’s top prospects as a Dodger, but his shot at stardom ended when he suffered a devastating ankle injury while playing for the Angels. By the time the Mets dealt for him - from San Diego as part of a Dave Kingman trade on the same dark night that Tom Seaver was traded away - he was little more than a utility player. His high point with the team came when he was the Mets representative in a bubble gum blowing contest. After retirement, he served as a minor league manager and as Davey Johnson’s initial third base coach before leaving to take the job as Texas Rangers manager. He was now back at Shea, ready to begin a reign as one of the most successful managers in team history. The next run towards glory was starting to take shape.

13 New Inductees

Fitting that her initial stage name was “Misdemeanor” Elliott because she stole the goddamn show. Friday night’s induction ceremony for the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame ran just shy of 4 1/2 hours long, but it was well paced. The show moved along briskly with few dead spots. I never found myself looking at the clock thinking “oh lord, there are still this many people to honor.” One big thing I got wrong is that I was certain Willie Nelson would close the show, but the actual show rundown made more sense. The guy is 90 years old, why make him stick around until after midnight? Let’s take a look at what transpired.

The night began with the familiar opening chords of If It Makes You Happy, and Sheryl Crow kicked off the show trading verses with Olivia Rodrigo. Following Laura Dern’s presentation (a last minute substitute for Brandi Carlile who came down with COVID & had to sit it out) Crow duetted with Stevie Nicks on Strong Enough and then Peter Frampton joined the two to play guitar on Everyday Is a Winding Road. Frampton is suffering from a muscle disease and needs crutches to get around; just one of several reminders from the night that Father Time remains undefeated.

The emotional highlight of the evening came early with LL Cool J’s induction of DJ Kool Herc. If show organizers were planning on doing a full throttle salute to hip-hop’s 50th anniversary it would have come here. But his segment was limited to the tribute film and speech. Herc was clearly fighting back tears as soon as he started to walk from audience to stage; he was accompanied by his sister Cindy which was appropriate. She threw the party that started it all, so her place in history has its own significance. In his speech Herc continued to fight through his emotion; it was touching to see both Cindy & LL provide emotional support by grasping his shoulders. Herc’s induction is proof of why despite all of the legitimate criticism directed towards the Hall, it still matters. Herc has received multiple accolades over the years, but recognition from an institution as mainstream as this Hall is an entirely different type of validation. Jann Wenner may have done a lot to sabotage the institution he co-founded, but moments such as this are what saves it.

Chaka Khan’s induction came next. I had been concerned that she would be a no-show; I had the sense that she was more irked with each successive nomination and rejection and I didn’t notice her making any statement following her election. But she was there in full glory. Following a presentation speech by Jazmine Sullivan, Khan performed a medley of several of her most famous songs with special guests. She began with I Feel For You with Common filling in the rap portions. Ain’t Nobody was next with H.E.R. contributing on guitar. It might be her signature shades, but H.E.R. exudes her own special brand of cool. She stuck around to share vocals with Khan on Sweet Thing, and Chaka closed with I’m Every Woman accompanied by Sia in a comically oversized face-obscuring wig. I realize that never letting her face show is the defining aspect of Sia’s image but I found it to be a bit too much here. It drew attention away from the woman being honored. It’s supposed to be about Chaka, not Sia. In her acceptance Khan acknowledged Rufus and brought guitarist Tony Maiden on stage to briefly share the moment with her.

Next, Andrew Ridgeley appeared to induct George Michael. It can’t be easy to be Andrew Ridgeley. Even in Wham!’s heyday he was a bit of a punchline, but all indications are that he’s a decent, well-centered guy. In both the film package and in his speech he acknowledged the fact that Michael’s talent was undeniable and that the band was holding him back. George Michael needed to spread his wings in order to reach his full potential and he wouldn’t be able to do that in Wham! No members of Michael’s family gave an acceptance speech, so it went right to the performance. Miguel did a wonderful job on Careless Whisper with Jake Clemons providing the famous saxophone hook. Adam Levine did Faith; all I can say about that is that at least it wasn’t Fred Durst. Carrie Underwood closed and absolutely nailed One More Try.

The Spinners’ induction came next. There was no presenter; the segment went straight to the filmed package. Of the 6 inducted members (the 5 men in the classic 1970’s lineup + John Edwards who joined the band when Philippe Wynne left) only Edwards & Henry Fambrough are still alive. The film clip ended with their thank you speeches, which led to a shot of the two gentlemen in the audience, both clearly moved. The tribute performance was provided by New Edition who did a wonderful job. Dressed in matching suits they sang a medley of I’ll Be Around, Could It Be I’m Falling In Love, and Rubberband Man. Bobby Brown may be fairly unrecognizable at this point in his life, but Ralph Tresvant and Johnny Gill sound as good as ever, and the choreography was impeccable. Better, during Rubberband Man the stage backdrop fell to reveal a recreation of the Soul Train set, complete with dancers. Which seamlessly led into the next honoree.

There was no presenter or speech for the Don Cornelius induction, but the film told his story well. In addition to showing a plethora of great artists who had appeared on Soul Train over the years - and what they showed only scratched the surface - it was also filled with talking heads speaking about the cultural importance of the show. Appropriately enough the video ended with a clip of Cornelius wishing everyone love, peace, and soul! (Once again it’s worth wondering if it’s still appropriate to call this the Ahmet Ertegun Award. His history of mistreating women is out in the open; if the Hall can cut ties with Jann Wenner, they can do it with Ertegun as well.)

Next up was Kate Bush and as expected she did not teleport herself from the ethereal plane in which she resides to appear at the show, although she did release a thank you statement earlier in the day. Big Boi served as her presenter; which may not sound like an obvious choice but it perfectly illustrates the way in which music can bring people together. An art rocker and a rapper may not have much in common on the surface, but both artists made names for themselves by constantly pushing the envelope and coloring outside the lines. And if his appearance serves as a reminder to the nominating committee that they need to get OutKast on next year’s ballot, so much the better. St. Vincent was the perfect choice to honor Bush with a performance of Running Up That Hill, as she is the contemporary artist who comes closest to matching Bush’s sense of theatricality. The song choice is an obvious one, but I would have loved to hear her take on Wuthering Heights.

The Al Kooper segment followed. Once again, no presenter or onstage speech; Kooper narrated the film himself which he punctuated with his brief acceptance remarks. The film did what it was meant to; it fully showed why he deserved the honor. Songwriting, sessions work, performing, producing. He did it all. The musical excellence prize is meant for someone with his type of resume.

By this point in the ceremony, it’s been a while since an actual inductee has performed, so now it’s Willie Time. Dave Matthews led off with a solo rendition of Funny How Time Slips Away and then gave his presentation speech. Let’s just say that Matthews acted as if he had just partaken from Willie’s stash. After a few brief thank you’s, Nelson performed 3 songs with special guests: Whiskey River with Chris Stapleton, Crazy with Sheryl Crow, and Matthews returned for a group performance of On the Road Again. Willie is noticeably aging. I recognize that a lot of you are saying “duh” but he’s one of those guys who seems to have been born old. He looked 60 when he was 40. Now it’s different. He remains seated while performing and his voice is noticeably weaker. It’s always jarring to see photos or clips of a short-haired, clean-shaven Willie Nelson. That can’t be the same guy. As difficult as it is to comprehend, Willie will leave us sometime in the next 20-25 years. Good thing the Hall is honoring him while they still can.

The ceremony briefly paused to show a short promotional film for the museum itself; likely timed to allow Willie to discreetly leave the stage. That led into the segment on Link Wray and the biggest surprise of the evening. The filmed package ended with a presentation speech from Jimmy Page, and then as the film faded to black Page himself was on stage to perform Rumble.

That led to Elton John inducting Bernie Taupin. It was momentarily uncomfortable as Elton didn’t pick up the cue that it was time to go. He was standing at the podium and staring into the distance for so long that I was beginning to fear that he was having a Mitch McConnell moment. But once he finally realized that he was on, it was smooth sailing. Taupin’s speech was a good one, and he was the one that finally addressed the Jann Wenner sized elephant in the room by saying how proud he was to be inducted with several “articulate” female and black artists. The segment ended with Elton doing a solo piano performance of Tiny Dancer.

Then it was time for the In Memoriam segment. It began with a few Tina Turner clips, and as always with these montages it’s a combo of sadness for whom we’ve lost coupled with joy that we were able to enjoy their art. And of course there were at least one or two names who I not even realized had passed away. The montage ended with Robbie Robertson & an all-star collaboration on The Weight featuring Chris Stapleton, Sheryl Crow, Brittany Howard, and Elton John taking their turns on each verse.

Rage Against the Machine were the penultimate inductee, and Ice-T was an apt choice as their presenter. Tom Morello turned out to be the only band member that attended, and in his acceptance speech he gave the impression that the other 3 Ragers couldn’t care less about the honor. He made sure to include the fans as the fifth member of RATM, but he was just getting started. We know two things about Tom Morello - he is arguably the single finest guitar player in the world at this moment, and he knows how to make a fiery speech. He did not disappoint.

That left it to Missy Elliott to close the show. I had thought she would be a good choice to open the night, but placing her at the end of the show was the better move. Who would want to have to follow her performance? Queen Latifah was her presenter, and then Missy proceeded to blow the roof off the Barclays Center. She also produced a medley, fitting in Get Ur Freak On, The Rain, Work It, Pass That Dutch, and Lose Control and it was spectacular. It shows what we’ve been missing once she essentially stopped producing new music years ago. We need a comeback. The Hall usually uploads show highlights on their YouTube channel, but I suppose they are waiting until it airs on broadcast TV to do so. In the meantime, hopefully this clip that a fan shot in the Barclays Center does it justice.

And that was it. No closing jam this time. The entire ceremony is streaming on Disney+, and ABC will air an edited version on January 1. I’ll share some final thoughts later on in the week.

Now And Then

I’ve listened to the “final” Beatles song a few times and it’s… fine? Of course, there was little reason to expect anything revelatory. It comes from a John demo after all; it’s essentially an embryonic song but it stands to reason that had John completed it a true studio recording would flesh it out a bit more. George’s portion isn’t a true contribution, it’s simply a lay-in of an isolated guitar track. Paul’s voice is no longer particularly strong; he can’t hit the same notes that he once did. Really, Ringo’s drum part is the element of the song that’s closest to vintage Beatles.

When word came out that this release was imminent, many comparisons were made to Free As a Bird, but I think Real Love is the better match. FAAB at least was a decent song, but Real Love was little more than an insignificant trifle. My suspicion is that in six months we will have largely forgotten about Now and Then and will go back to listening to Revolver. Which is perfectly OK; the Beatles catalogue is so spectacularly deep and rich. If all this song does is provide Paul & Ringo the opportunity to give Beatles fans one final bit of pleasure, there’s no shame in that. Which reminds me that I need to listen to Revolver.

Closing Laughs

Thanks as always for reading, and be sure to vote tomorrow. It may be an off year election, but that doesn’t make it any less important. See you on Wednesday.