stoutfellow

I mentioned that I'm rereading a textbook from one of my undergraduate classes. There's a bit of a story behind that.

( Ky Fan )

And that's why I'm rereading a textbook I studied from more than a quarter century ago.

Here's to you, Dr. Fan, wherever you are!

Ten things I've done that you may not have:

1. Been interviewed by the local paper on the occasion of the proof of Fermat's Last.
2. Lived through a hurricane - in the state of Washington.
3. Spent the night sleeping on the grass in front of the train station in Naples, Italy.
4. Given a subcutaneous drip to a sick dog.
5. Hiked sixty-plus miles in eight days in the Sierra.
6. Belly-crawled through a narrow muddy passageway in a cave in Tennessee.
7. Read Purgatorio and Paradiso (instead of stopping with Inferno).
8. Sat on the reef that encloses Pearl Harbor.
9. Voted for Barry Commoner for President. (It was 1980, and I was disgusted with everybody.)
10. Represented my high school in a wrestling match and in a Math Fair.

This is a sad story.

Ken Caminiti was a big man; he looked more like a football player than a third baseman. He came to San Diego in a twelve-player trade with Houston in the winter of 1994. He had a reputation as a solid defensive player and a steady but unspectacular slugger, someone you could rely on for a .300 average and 25 to 30 home runs (which, in those days, was a respectable total). His first year with the Padres, he lived up to that reputation, but his performance improved sharply in 1996. At one point that summer, the Padres played the New York Mets in a three-game series in Monterrey, Mexico. Before the third game, Caminiti was so dehydrated that the trainer had him flat on his back with an IV drip in his arm. When game time came, Caminiti pulled the needle out and took the field. That day, he drove in four runs with two mammoth home runs, and the Padres coasted to an 8-0 win. San Diego finished the season in first place in the National League Western Division; Caminiti hit 40 home runs, drove in 130 runs, and had an on-base percentage of .408 and a slugging percentage of .621, and he was a unanimous choice as Most Valuable Player, the first in Padres history.

In retrospect, perhaps we should have known that something was going on. During the following two seasons, Caminiti reverted to form: solid, but unspectacular. He was a star on San Diego's pennant-winning team of 1998, but his performance in the World Series was pitiable. The Padres, caught in one of their recurrent financial crises, let him go after the season. He remained in the majors for another three years, playing for Houston again and for Atlanta and Texas.

After retiring in 2001, Caminiti admitted that he had taken steroids during the 1996 season, and touched off a furor by claiming that as many as half of all major league players did likewise. His problems with drugs were not over. It seemed that when he wasn't in court, he was in rehab - alcohol, cocaine, steroids again. He had been an intense player; baseball had been his consuming passion, and without it he was lost.

Ken Caminiti died last Sunday, aged 41. The cause of death was given as a heart attack.

Rest in peace, big guy. We won't forget.

Ah, spring. I love this time of year. The ornamental pears out front are blooming, just beautiful.

I got my yearly shearing a couple of weeks ago; I am once again beardless and short-haired. It's always fun seeing the students' reaction the day after. ("Who are you, and what have you done with my calculus teacher?" was the best line this year.) A number of years ago, a student came into the main office; he wanted to talk to one of his professors, but couldn't remember the name. He told the secretary, "He's short, has a beard, kind of looks like a mad scientist." The secretary immediately replied, "Oh, you mean Dr. :myname:." I've never been sure whether I should be more bothered by the description or the immediate recognition...

It's Palm Sunday, and I'll be going to the evening service. I've been reading Dorothy Sayers' play-cycle, The Man Born to Be King, as part of my Lenten observance this year. I haven't really managed to do all that I intended, but a few things have worked, at least. I've let too many things slide...