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2006 |
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'THE ODD COUPLE'?
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How a sportswriter got
his shot at 15 mins. fame
By MAURY ALLEN
of TheColumnists.com
I’m bracing
for the plethora of Oscars for “Brokeback Mountain.”
It is this year’s “in” movie. Actually, it’s
an “out” movie. It leads the league in mumbled dialogue,
silent stares and witless characters.
What do I know? I’m just an old sportswriter.
Now, “The Odd Couple” was on late night television
the other evening. There’s a movie. Did I like it so much
because Walter Matthau plays a believable sportswriter, Jack
Lemmon plays a constipated nudge or these two guys really come
off as real life demented pals? No way.
I liked it because I was in it.
Andy Warhol promised us all fifteen minutes of fame. I settled
for a second and a half in this flick.
This was back in 1968 when I was sitting in the press box at
Shea Stadium in Queens, New York one sunny afternoon before the
New York Mets were scheduled against the Pittsburgh Pirates.
Pittsburgh was a glamorous team in those days having won a dramatic
World Series in 1960 against the Yankees on Bill Mazeroski’s
ninth inning seventh game walkoff homer, the first ever in Series
play.
The Mets were still a lovable joke with new manager Gil Hodges
showing signs of improvement but the victories still too few
to mention.
All of this mattered little as we sat typing away on our trusty
Royal portable typewriter. For younger readers that was a machine
that created words on blank pieces of paper before computers
put all typewriter repair men out of work.
The publicity director of the Mets, an old newsman named Harold
Weissman, walked into the press box and said, “If you want
to be in a movie just sit there. They’ll pay everyone a
hundred bucks.”
He explained the hundred bucks would be given to each sportswriter
sitting in the press box, about 20 of us, for doing what we did
every day for a lot less.
I could see my career in show business building. Scenes of “Citizen
Kane” flashed before my eyes. Premieres and autograph hounds
filled my thoughts. Hollywood and Vine. The Pantages theater.
Marilyn was gone and Grace Kelly had run off with the Prince
but there were others to meet.
“Just sit there and type,” the Mets PR guy yelled.
We sat there and typed.
Down below us, the Mets were on the field. There were a couple
of members of the Pittsburgh Pirates near home plate. There were
cameras on both foul lines. We found out later that the Pirates
were also being paid a hundred bucks for their time. Roberto
Clemente, emerging then as one of the game’s great players,
was supposed to hit a ground ball toward third base. It was to
be turned into a triple play by the Mets. Hey, this was a movie,
remember.
Clemente refused to hit into a triple play for a hundred bucks.
He told the Pittsburgh PR man he refused to hit into a double
play for a hundred bucks. Mazeroski agreed to do it.
There were three or four cameras behind us in the press box.
We were told Walter Matthau would soon be in the press box. This
was his scene. Lemmon was nowhere around. As the scene was later
explained to us, Matthau, as sportswriter Oscar Madison, was
called to the phone as Mazeroski approached the plate. Felix
Unger (Jack Lemmon) wanted him to stop at the grocery store on
his way home so he could prepare a luxurious dinner.
Oscar grumbled something over the phone about how many times
he told Felix not to call him in the ball park. Like a lot of
people, wives especially, Felix didn’t understand that sportswriters
are actually working when they are in the ball park.
As they talked, with Oscar’s back to the field, Mazeroski
hit the ground ball to third base. Ed Charles of the Mets tagged
third base, threw to Ken Boswell at second base for the second
out and Boswell threw on to Ed Kranepool at first for the ground
ball triple play. Oscar missed it all. It never made his story
and his boss howled at him later.
In the press box we were supposed to be staring straight at the
field. I over-acted. I peeked at Matthau as he bellowed nonsense
into the phone.
In a few minutes the cameras were turned off and taken away.
Matthau hung around the press box talking to movie people. Then
he walked into the press room. He was surrounded by a dozen more
people from the film. We never could get near him for a chat,
an autograph or a reaction about being around real sportswriters.
I waited for an invite to the premiere. It never came. I saw
an advertisement that the movie was opening up a few months later.
My wife and I caught the film for the first time in our neighborhood
theater. I’m in it. I’m really in it. They pan the
press box as Matthau stands by the phone. I told all my friends
to see it.
Not much happened to my film career after that. Nothing, really.
No matter. I still think Oscar and Felix are a lot more fun to
watch on screen than those Wyoming cowboys. I don’t care
how many Oscars they win.
©2006 by Maury Allen. The Maury Allen
caricature is ©2001 by Jim Hummel. The illustration is a
doctored version of the ad for "The Odd Couple," courtesy
of Paramount Pictures. The "Oscar" logo and the phrase
"Academy Awards" are the registered trademarks of the
Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences. This column first posted on
Feb. 27, 2006.
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