Does The No. 1 Bus Stop Here? #FindingNeverland @americanrep #Fenway

Scored a T-shirt from @littlebrown while in their booth at #bea14 #BookExpo... #strike , er, I meant #score !!!

Well look what they got at the Harvard Business School. It still works. Who knew?

At the @AmericanRep's Loeb, ahem, theater, Diane Paulus introducing Teller, the normally wordless half of the famed magic duo: "...he was working on the Scottish play." Teller: "Macbeth!" Paulus: "Only a magician could get away with that!"

And then we saw him. Handsome boyo. @ZuluNyala

Teller does a magic trick after the opening night performance of "The Tempest" @AmericanRep ...

Fixing up the mural at #UnCommonGrounds in #Watertown

#pencils writing.

Amazing

This picture will never cease to inspire or motivate me. #WhatIsLove

Timely with the Series starting tonight in Boston against...the Cardinals

The Red Sox-Cardinals World Series starting tonight in Boston is the fourth time the two teams have played for Major League Baseball’s championship. The first Series, in 1946, was a low point in the otherwise stellar career of Ted Williams.

Williams did not get one extra base hit in the seven-game Series won by the Cardinals, managed just five singles and struck out five times for a .200 batting average. He did reach base five more times through walks. And a combination of good defense and the shift took away several potential extra base hits on balls that Ted hit on the nose. But that was part of Cardinals Manager Eddie Dyer’s plan.

When it was all over, Ted gave St. Louis its due, singling out pitcher Harry “The Cat’’ Brecheen as the Series hero for winning two of the games. “I think his mere presence on the field inspired the Cardinals,’’ Ted said. “I had hoped my bat would do the talking for me in the Series, but it was tongue-tied by some great Cardinal pitching.”

When the writers and photographers were allowed in the clubhouse, Williams sat woefully on the bench in front of his locker, hunched over, staring at the floor, disconsolate. Pitcher Mickey Harris sat next to him and struck a similar pose, and the two were pictured in a bleak tableau in the next day’s Boston Globe.

Ted was the last player to dress and the last to leave the clubhouse. Outside the locker room door, scores of Cardinal fans were lying in wait for him, hurling invective inside. “Where’s Williams?” they screamed. “Where’s Superman?” When he finally came out, the fans had formed two raging lines on either side of the door, forcing Ted to run the gauntlet of abuse. Police stood by, watching only to make sure he was not assaulted. 

Williams took the insults impassively, yearning now only for the train, and the privacy of his own compartment for the long ride back to Boston. When the team finally reached the train, Ted made his way to his room, shut the door and wept. After a time, when he looked out the window, he saw scores of people gawking at him, a mix of glee and malice in their eyes. 

(Photo: Ted Williams during the 1946 World Series. Brearley Collection.)

jonathan tropper reading from "This Is Where I Leave You" proving authors can go from Buzz to the Big Screen. # bea14