Shot Put

The other day, The New York Times ran an obituary about a "shot-put innovator," James E. Fuchs. His life story is an interesting one, and includes his collaboration with George Steinbrenner to establish a scholarship fund for children of deceased police officers. The caveat was that the police officers had to be from the New York area and had to have died in the line of duty.

I threw shot-put in high school. I had no business doing so. My weight and size militated against any sort of long-term success. The exercise and practice sessions were often deadly dull. I didn't enjoy the sport, and my participation in it was largely pointless.

The only benefits of over three years of shot-put futility was that I got to know Bob Guida and Pat Conte. From them, I learned a great deal about music, both recorded and performed. I also gained insight from them into the finer points of a true New York "slice." To this day, like nearly all New Yorkers, I regard the New York slice as pizza's gold standard.

I also had the opportunity to participate in a sport that offers almost nothing modern in its style or substance. That fact offers some consolation, and more than a little wonder that it can still attract a following.