'Unchained Melody' Writer Hy Zaret Dies

'Unchained Melody' Writer Hy Zaret Dies

Jul 3, 4:22 PM (ET)

WESTPORT, Conn. (AP) - Lyricist Hy Zaret, who wrote the haunting words to "Unchained Melody," one of the most frequently recorded songs of the 20th century, has died at age 99.

Zaret died at his home Monday, about a month shy of his 100th birthday, his son, Robert Zaret, said Tuesday.

He penned words to many songs and advertising jingles but his biggest hit was "Unchained Melody," written in 1955 for a film called "Unchained." It brought Zaret and Alex North, the composer, an Academy Award nomination for best song.

Zaret refused the producer's request to work the word "unchained" into the lyrics, instead writing to express the feelings of a lover who has "hungered for your touch a long, lonely time."

The song was recorded by artists as diverse as Elvis Presley, Lena Horne, U2, Guy Lombardo, Vito & the Salutations and Joni Mitchell, who incorporated fragments into her song "Chinese Cafe/Unchained Melody."

An instrumental version was a No. 1 hit in 1955 for Les Baxter, while a vocal version by Al Hibbler reached No. 3 the same year.

But most baby boomers remember the song from the Righteous Brothers' version. The record, produced by Phil Spector, reached No. 4 on the Billboard chart in 1965, and was a hit again 25 years later when it was used on the soundtrack of the film "Ghost."

In all, it was recorded more than 300 times, according to the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers, which listed it in 1999 as one of the 25 most-performed musical works of the 20th century.

Among other songs Zaret co-wrote were "My Sister and I," a hit in 1941 for Jimmy Dorsey; "So Long, for a While," the theme song for the radio and TV show "Your Hit Parade"; "Dedicated to You"; and the Andrews Sisters' novelty song "One Meat Ball."

"He had some big, big hits," said Jim Steinblatt, an assistant vice president at ASCAP.

In later years, Zaret had to fend off the claims by another man, electrical engineer William Stirrat, who said he wrote the "Unchained Melody" lyrics as a teenager in the 1930s and even legally changed his name to Hy Zaret. Robert Zaret and Steinblatt both said the dispute was resolved completely in favor of the real Zaret, who continued to receive all royalties. Steinblatt said Stirrat died in 2004.

Not in the script: Too many pro wrestlers dying young

Not in the script: Too many pro wrestlers dying young

By PAUL NEWBERRY, AP National Writer
June 30, 2007

ATLANTA (AP) -- Everything is planned. The high-flying moves. The outlandish story lines. The crackpot characters.

One thing isn't in the script: the staggering number of pro wrestlers who die young.

Chris Benoit was the latest, taking his own life at age 40 after killing his wife and son in a grisly case that might be the blackest eye yet for the pseudo-sport already ridiculed as nothing more than comic books come to life, a cult-like outlet for testosterone-ragin' young males to cheer on their freakishly bulked-up heroes.

But the tenacious, grim-faced grappler known as the "Canadian Crippler" was hardly alone in heading to an early grave.

The very same weekend Benoit killed his family, the body of old tag-team partner Biff Wellington (real name: Shayne Bower) was found in his bed, dead at 42. A couple of weeks ago, former women's champion "Sensational" Sherri Martel passed away at her mother's home in Alabama. She was 49.

And on it goes.

Mike Awesome (Michael Lee Alfonso in real life) was found hanged in his Florida home in February, the apparent victim of a suicide at 42. "Bam Bam" Bigelow was 45 when a lethal cocktail of cocaine and benzodiazepine, an anti-anxiety drug, stopped his already ailing heart in January.

And on it goes, dozens and dozens of wrestlers meeting a similar fate over the past two decades. Some died with drugs flowing through their veins. Others tried to clean up but belatedly paid the price for their long-term abuse of steroids, painkillers, alcohol, cocaine and other illicit substances.

How many more must pass through the morgue before everyone stands up and shouts: Enough's enough?

"From my 17 years in the business, I know probably 40 to 45 wrestlers who dropped dead before they were 50," said Lance Evers, a semiretired wrestler who goes by "Lance Storm" when he's in the ring. "It's an astronomical number."

Then, he added in a voice tinged with anger and sadness, "I'm sick and tired of it."

Over the years, there are been numerous proposals to put wrestling under some sort of oversight, be it at the state or federal level. Those ideas usually have fallen on deaf ears, largely because the powers-that-be, be it the old-time regional promoters or WWE owner Vince McMahon, the guy who largely controls the sport today, don't want the government telling them how to run their business.

Jim Wilson, who parlayed pro football into a ring career, says he was blackballed when he began pushing for a wrestler's union. Since then, he has written a book about his experiences and kept up the push to rein in those who govern the sport.

Although Wilson's battle often has been a lonely one, he says Benoit's death might reinvigorate the cause.

A union could be a useful tool for cleaning up the sport. It might lead to a pension plan, improved benefits, more stringent health and safety guidelines and a revamped pay structure that would allow wrestlers to spend more time at home without risking a pay cut.

Now, most top wrestlers get a guaranteed salary, but the bulk of their income is based on how often they compete. That leads some to feel they must get in the ring while injured, often with the aid of painkillers and other numbing chemicals.

And much like rock stars, plenty of wrestlers have fallen victim to excessive partying, alcohol and drug dependency, and marital problems during grueling stints on the road.

"My longest run was 79 days in a row without a day off," said Joe Laurinaitis, the wrestler known as Road Warrior Animal and father of Ohio State football star James Laurinaitis. "It's not as bad now. They've got good guys running the WWE. Still, we need to take a look at it when things like this (the Benoit murder-suicide) are happening. Guys are still overworked."

That's why Wilson's calling for Congress to hold hearings on the wrestling industry, much like it investigated doping in professional sports and just this past week heard from ex-NFL players who believe they're being shortchanged on their pensions.

"In those other sports, they aren't dropping like flies like they are in the wrestling business," Wilson said. "Now is the time to push for legislation nationally."

He's already spoken with U.S. Sen. Johnny Isakson (R-Ga.), who instructed his staff to begin gathering information on the issue to determine if a hearing before the Health Committee might be warranted.

Isakson said his main concern is steroid abuse.

"I'm not going to start speculating on federal regulation of wrestling," he said. "The issue is anabolic steroids, which are a significant problem and are known to cause significant difficulties. It's a health issue that's appropriate for us to discuss, regardless of the profession."

Steroids and other muscle-building drugs long have been an accepted part of the wrestling culture, allowing the biggest names to pump up to ungodly proportions that wouldn't be possible through natural means.

Granted, nobody comes right out and tells a wrestler he or she should take steroids. But all one has to do is attend a match in person or watch one on TV to realize some of these physiques just aren't plausible without help from a syringe.

"Somebody says you need to put 25 pounds on your upper body," said Larry DeGaris, who teaches sports marketing at the University of Indianapolis and moonlights on the independent wrestling circuit as "The Professor" Larry Brisco. "Well, if you have an athletic background and have been around sports for a while, you know there's only one way to do that. Nobody needs to tell you. It's just a tacit understanding."

Steroids were found in Benoit's home, though investigators haven't determined if they played any role in the brutal killings of his wife, Nancy, and their 7-year-old son.

World Wrestling Entertainment, which employed Benoit and holds a virtual monopoly grip on the industry, was quick to point out that this tragedy -- apparently carried out over an entire weekend -- doesn't come with the classic signs of 'roid rage, the violent, unpredictable outbursts that can be caused by someone who abuses steroids.

A top anti-doping expert agreed but said it's too early in the investigation to draw any firm conclusions.

"I can paint any number of scenarios that explain this without invoking 'roid rage," said Dr. Gary Wadler, a member of the World Anti-Doping Agency. "'Roid rage tends to be impulse control. This event happened over two or three days. It has the earmarks of some calculation."

The WWE also was quick to announce Benoit had passed his last drug test in April, part of the organization's "Wellness Program" that was put in place after the death of star Eddie Guerrero two years ago.

But Wadler doesn't sound all that impressed with the WWE's testing procedures. He's especially troubled that the WWE refuses to discuss the program in any detail.

Both Evers and wrestling journalist Bryan Alvarez, who've seen guidelines for the program, found two major loopholes:

-- A wrestler can pass the doping test with a testosterone to epitestosterone ratio of 10:1, more than double the WADA standard. Under WADA rules, athletes are in violation starting at 4:1; the average ratio is 1:1.

-- A wrestler who tests positive can be excused if he produces a doctor's prescription and a medically justified reason for taking the drug in question.

There's no justifying that happened at the Benoits' suburban Atlanta home last weekend.

Alvarez, who covers the sport extensively for the Web site www.wrestlingobserver.com, has some inkling of the demons that might have overtaken the wrestler.

He said Benoit never got over the 2005 death of Guerrero, a former WWE champion and four-time tag-team titleholder who was 38 when he died of a heart attack, perhaps caused by the alcohol and drug abuses that friends thought he had beaten.

"Chris' closest friend in the world was Eddie Guerrero," Alvarez said. "He could cry to him. He could tell him everything. After Eddie died, I talked to Chris. He was broken man."

Last year, another of Benoit's wrestling buddies, 263-pound Mike Durham (known in the business as Johnny Grunge), died at 39 from complications cause by sleep apnea, a condition that often affects larger people such as wrestlers and football players.

"It was about this period of time that people started noticing weird behavior, paranoid behavior, which would indicate (Benoit) was using a lot of drugs," Alvarez said. "He was alone. He was on the road a lot, having to perform at a high level, having to look a certain way. I think the drug use escalated, and his whole world basically fell apart."

Laurinaitis knows what a lethal potion it all can be.

His friend since childhood and longtime tag partner, Road Warrior Hawk (Michael Hegstrand), died from a heart attack in 2003. Just 46, Hegstrand had battled alcohol and drugs, in addition to using steroids, Laurinaitis said.

"I used to watch him sometimes and just shake my head. I would think, 'Oh my God, what in the world is he doing? Why is he doing that?"' Laurinaitis said. "I saw quite a few guys go down that path."

Now, they're all gone.

Benoit. Guerrero. Hawk.

Martel. Bigelow. Awesome.

Not to mention Curt "Mr. Perfect" Hennig, Big Boss Man, Hercules, Crash Holly, Davey Boy Smith, Miss Elizabeth, Terry Gordy, "Gentleman" Chris Adams, Yokozuna, "Ravishing" Rick Rude, Owen Hart, Louie Spiccoli, Brian Pillman, Eddie Gilbert, Buzz Sawyer, "Quick Draw" Rick McGraw, Gino Hernandez and much of the Von Erich clan.

All dead before they were 50 -- and that's just a sampling of an ever-growing list.

It doesn't take someone who can distinguish between a full nelson and a sleeper hold to know that's far too many wrestlers dying far too young.

"It's gotten to the point that just about every show in the country is starting with a ten-bell salute," said DeGaris, the professor and wrestler, referring to the traditional farewell to a fallen competitor. "You kind of look at some of the old pictures, and you're the last man standing."



Updated on Saturday, Jun 30, 2007 11:52 am EDT

Heir puts 'Dracula's Castle' for sale

Heir puts 'Dracula's Castle' for sale

By ALEXANDRU ALEXE, Associated Press Writer
Mon Jul 2, 2:18 PM ET



BUCHAREST, Romania - A Habsburg heir is hoping someone will take a bite of his offer Monday to sell "Dracula's Castle" in Transylvania.

The medieval Bran Castle, perched on a cliff near Brasov in mountainous central Romania, is a top tourist attraction because of its ties to Prince Vlad the Impaler, the warlord whose cruelty inspired Bram Stoker's 1897 novel, "Dracula."

Legend has it that the ruthless Vlad — who earned his nickname because of the way he tortured his enemies — spent one night in the 1400s at the castle.

The Habsburgs formally put the Bran Castle on the market Monday, a U.S.-based investment company said. No selling price was announced.

Bran Castle was built in the 14th century to serve as a fortress to protect against the invading Ottoman Turks. The royal family moved into the castle in the 1920s, living there until the communist regime confiscated it from Princess Ileana in 1948.

After being restored in the late 1980s and following the end of communist rule in Romania, it gained popularity as a tourist attraction known as "Dracula's Castle."

In May 2006, the castle was returned to Princess Ileana's son, New York architect Archduke Dominic Habsburg. He pledged to keep it open as a museum until 2009.

Habsburg, 69, offered to sell the castle last year to local authorities for $80 million, but the offer was rejected.

On Monday, he put the castle up for sale "to the right purchaser under the right circumstances," said Michael Gardner, chief executive of Baytree Capital, the company representing Habsburg. "The Habsburgs are not in the business of managing a museum."

He predicted the castle would sell for more than $135 million but added that Habsburg will only sell it to a buyer "who will treat the property and its history with appropriate respect."

Habsburg said in a statement: "Aside from the castle's connection to one of the most famous novels ever written, Bran Castle is steeped in critical events of European history dating from the 14th century to the present."

According to a contract signed when the castle was returned, the government pays rent to Habsburg to run the castle as a museum for three years, charging admission. After 2009, Habsburg will have full control of the castle, Gardner said.

The government has priority as a buyer if it can match the best offer for the castle, he said.

Opposition lawmakers have claimed the government's decision to return the castle to Habsburg was illegal because of procedural errors.

In recent years, the castle — complete with occasional glimpses of bats flying around its ramparts at twilight — has attracted filmmakers looking for a dramatic backdrop for films about Dracula and other horror movies.

Some 450,000 people visit the castle every year, Gardner said.

'Brown v. Board' school could be razed

'Brown v. Board' school could be razed

Wed Jun 20, 10:58 PM ET

TOPEKA, Kan. - The Topeka City Council gave preliminary approval to begin destruction of the former all-white school that was at the center of the Brown v. Board of Education case.

Council and city staff members said Tuesday they would like to save the Sumner Elementary School building, but the cost to the city forced them to consider other options.

"We do not take this lightly," City Manager Norton Bonaparte said. "It is a historic structure. However, it continues to cost the city to maintain."

Two groups are seeking to save the structure, and officials gave them five months to prove their financial capabilities to acquire and renovate the building. Previous proposals from the applicants who want to use the building for housing and a charter school fell "very short" of showing financial capability for the project, Deputy City Manager Randy Speaker said.

A formal council vote would be needed for the two-story brick building to be torn down, Deputy Mayor Brett Blackburn said.

The art deco building became a symbol of civil rights history when Oliver Brown, a black minister, tried to enroll his daughter in Sumner School in 1950.

When the school turned them away, the Browns filed a lawsuit that would eventually lead to the Supreme Court's 1954 desegregation decision in the Brown v. Board of Education case.

The school was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1987 and remained open until 1996, when the school district closed it.

In 2002, the city bought the school for $45,000 from the Topeka and Shawnee County Public Library, which had used the building for storage.

Campaign Finance Reform’s War on Political Freedom: An ongoing danger, despite two recent court victories by Bradley A. Smith

Source: http://www.city-journal.org/html/ws2007-07-01bs.html

1 July 2007

In February 2006, Norm Feck learned that the city of Parker, Colorado was thinking about annexing his neighborhood, Parker North. Feck attended a meeting on the annexation, realized that it would mean more bureaucracy, and concluded that it wouldn’t be in Parker North residents’ interest. Together with five other Parker North locals, he wrote letters to the editor, handed out information sheets, formed an Internet discussion group, and printed up anti-annexation yard signs, which soon began sprouting throughout the neighborhood.

That’s when annexation supporters took action—not with their own public campaign, but with a legal complaint against Feck and his friends for violating Colorado’s campaign finance laws. The suit also threatened anyone who had contacted Feck’s group about the annexation, or put up one of their yard signs, with “investigation, scrutinization, and sanctions for Campaign Finance violations.” Apparently the anti-annexation activists hadn’t registered with the state, or filled out the required paperwork disclosing their expenditures on time. Steep fines, increasing on a daily basis, were possible. The case remains in litigation.

Should Americans care about what’s happening in Parker North? They certainly don’t seem to. A LexisNexis search finds just three stories, all in Colorado papers, that mention the dispute. That’s it: no commentary by columnists, no national network reports, not even coverage by a single major blogger on this application of campaign finance law to the most basic community political activity. The lack of interest is in a way understandable, since campaign finance reform, whether on the state or federal level, is at once forbiddingly complex and seemingly irrelevant to most citizens’ lives. People tend to see reform as affecting only the powerful—lobbyists, big corporations, “fat cats”—not ordinary Joes. With some notable exceptions, even conservatives, who overwhelmingly believe that the First Amendment protects one’s right to spend money on a candidate, don’t pay much attention.

But as Norm Feck’s story shows, that’s a riskily blasé attitude. Campaign finance reform is creating an intrusive regulatory regime that’s steadily eroding Americans’ political freedoms. Making matters worse, it does little or nothing to combat corruption. Its proponents, mostly on the left, have chiefly used it to bolster their own political fortunes and to undermine limited, constitutional government.

This year marks the 100th anniversary of the first federal campaign finance law, the Tillman Act. Named for its sponsor, South Carolina Democratic senator Ben Tillman, the act banned corporate contributions to federal campaigns, and as such remains the backbone of federal campaign finance regulations. Tillman was a racist who advocated lynching black voters and almost single-handedly established Jim Crow in the South. The new law fit neatly with his segregationist agenda, since corporate “money power” primarily backed anti-segregationist Republican politicians.

The modern era of campaign finance reform has an equally partisan origin. From the mid-1960s on, opinion polls showed steady erosion in public support for big government and liberalism. Republicans made substantial congressional gains in 1966, and two years later Richard Nixon won the presidency. By 1970, Democrats feared—with good reason—that their longstanding electoral majority was in jeopardy. There were three ways that they might turn things around, observes Cato Institute election-law expert John Samples: persuading the public to embrace their big-government philosophy, changing that increasingly unpopular philosophy, or “preventing or at least hobbling the translation of the shifting public mood into electoral losses and policy changes.”

The Democrats chose Number Three, and looked to campaign finance reform as a way to achieve it. The Federal Election Campaign Act (FECA), which Congress passed in 1971 (and amended three years later), would, Democrats hoped, strike at the heart of Republican political power—while leaving untouched their own sources of influence, such as union-organized volunteers. The law tightly limited both political contributions and any expenditure that might “influence” an election. It also mandated disclosure of political contributions as small as $10, established a system in which taxes financed part of presidential races, and set up a bureaucracy, the Federal Election Commission (FEC), to enforce the new rules. In Buckley v. Valeo (1976), the Supreme Court struck down the expenditure limits on First Amendment grounds, and held that the disclosure requirements, as well as limits on contributions to non-candidate political organizations (the National Rifle Association, say), would apply only when the group receiving the donations “explicitly advocated” the election or defeat of a candidate, through such phrases as “vote for Smith.” Still, even as truncated by the Court, the new law left American politics more heavily regulated than at any time in history.

Congressional Democrats also drove the next major extension of campaign-finance regulations, the 2002 McCain-Feingold law—though of course one of the bill’s cosponsors, Arizona senator John McCain, was a prominent, if unconventional, Republican. McCain-Feingold banned a kind of fund-raising in which the GOP had a growing advantage: “soft money” contributions to political parties that could fund party building and political-issue ads stopping short of express advocacy. It also restricted the ability of incorporated organizations—like the NRA—to broadcast ads that so much as named a candidate within 60 days of an election, and it raised the limit on direct, “hard money” donations to candidates. Democrats were by now a Congressional minority. But enough endangered Republicans—hating the ads that targeted them—joined the Dems and McCain to get the bill passed.

The extent of the regulatory web now in place is evident even when advocates of free speech score an occasional victory. In June, the Supreme Court, by a narrow 5–4 margin, held in Federal Election Commission v. Wisconsin Right to Life that the government may not prevent citizens’ organizations from broadcasting ads that discuss pending legislative issues within 60 days of an election. The decision usefully prunes back one tentacle of the McCain-Feingold law. But the bulk of over 400 pages of FEC regulations remains intact. The opinion has no effect on the law under which Norm Feck faces prosecution, or the regulations that frustrate other Norm Fecks across the country.

Campaign finance reform neatly accomplishes Democrats’ goal of muffling political speech on the Right. Reformers seldom state that goal explicitly, of course; instead, they claim that reform gets rid of the political corruption that supposedly follows from large campaign contributions. Yet study after study shows that contributions play little or no role in how politicians vote. One of the most comprehensive, conducted by a group of MIT scholars in 2004, concluded that “indicators of party, ideology and district preferences account for most of the systematic variation in legislators’ roll call voting behavior.” The studies comport with common sense. Most politicians enter the public arena because they hold strong beliefs on public policy. Truly corrupt pols—the Duke Cunninghams of the world—want illegal bribes, not campaign donations.

Reformers also often claim to seek something more radical than eradicating corruption: equalizing political influence. During the debate over McCain-Feingold, numerous members of Congress repeatedly picked up on the “equality” theme. “It is time to let all our citizens have an equal voice,” argued Georgia congressman John Lewis, a Democrat. Missouri senator Jean Carnahan, another Democrat, complained that “special interests have an advantage over average, hard-working citizens.” Susan Collins, the liberal Republican senator from Maine, wanted “all Americans [to] have an equal voice.”

Yet political influence comes in many shapes, and campaign finance reformers have little interest in equalizing all of them. Take, for example, large foundations—a major source of political influence. The assets of liberal foundations such as Carnegie, Ford, and MacArthur dwarf those of their conservative counterparts: Ford’s assets top $10 billion, MacArthur’s $4 billion, while the Right’s giant, the Bradley Foundation, commands just $500 million. Campaign finance reform leaves foundations untouched.

Other important sources of influence include academia and Hollywood, both tilting to the left—and both left alone by the reformers. Consider how the law applied to Michael Moore’s anti-Bush film Fahrenheit 9/11 and to competing conservative films released in the run-up to the 2004 election. A number of complaints filed with the FEC charged Moore and others with campaign finance violations; both the movie and the advertising surrounding it, the complaints asserted, amounted to illegal contributions to the Kerry campaign. Despite Moore’s public statements that he’d made his movie to help defeat Bush, the FEC dismissed all the complaints, noting, among other things, that the film was a commercial rather than a political effort.

But when the conservative organization Citizens United tried to release a film responding to many of Fahrenheit 9/11’s anti-Bush assertions, the FEC advised it that any public broadcast or advertising close to the election would be subject to McCain-Feingold regulations. Similarly, when Second Amendment activist David Hardy sought to release a movie before the election favoring gun rights and portraying President Bush favorably, the FEC ruled that campaign finance restrictions applied. In both cases, the FEC based its conclusion on the fact that the conservative producers, unlike Moore, weren’t normally in the movie business.

Then there’s the press—and who would deny that it has great political influence? Nevertheless, campaign finance reform leaves it unregulated thus far. More than that: as restrictions on private campaign spending grow, the free coverage that politicians get from the press becomes more and more important. And that coverage, especially coverage by the national press corps, regularly demonstrates a leftward bias, as many studies have shown. During the 2004 presidential race, the press didn’t remind Americans about John Kerry’s harsh criticisms of his fellow soldiers in Vietnam, or pose questions about the nature of his military service; neither did it dwell on President Bush’s strong post-9/11 leadership. Those tasks, it’s worth noting, were left to two conservative political organizations, Swift Boat Veterans for Truth and Progress for America, whose highly effective campaign ads engaged in the kind of political speech that campaign finance reform chokes.

Which sources of influence are regulated and which are not is a choice deeply entangled with tacit assumptions about who benefits from each of those sources. Despite their noble-sounding claims, reformers aren’t really trying to equalize political influence: in fact, they’re doing exactly the opposite, regulating only those sources of influence that they disagree with.

Democrats don’t back campaign finance reform strictly for partisan reasons. They also like it for ideological reasons, realizing that private campaign funding is a major obstacle to regulating the private sector and to expanding government.

The writings of J. Skelly Wright, one of the Seventies’ most prominent reform advocates, are among the clearest expressions of the ideological values underlying campaign finance reform. As a federal appellate judge, Wright upheld all of FECA’s provisions, including spending limits, only to have Buckley reverse him. After that defeat Wright continued to back campaign finance reform, arguing (incoherently) that it was politically “neutral” but also necessary if Congress was to enact a host of liberal policy goals: increased regulation of auto dealerships, a “windfall profits” tax on oil companies, hospital price controls, creation of a superfund for victims of toxic chemicals, and “any other legislation that affects powerful, organized interests.”

To prove his point, Wright cited ballot initiatives in California and Colorado that proposed regulating certain private industries. In both cases, the initiatives began with leads in opinion polls, but suffered defeat after the targeted industries launched ads opposing the proposed regulation. Such private spending, Wright believed, “distort[ed] the expressed will of the people.” His elitist assumption was that the “expressed will of the people” was not the will that they in fact expressed at the ballot box, but rather the pro-regulation stance that he himself embraced.

Wright’s belief that potential targets of regulation shouldn’t be able to communicate directly with voters—since that could “distort” their true opinions—has remained a staple of reform thinking ever since. Here’s the former president of the liberal advocacy group Common Cause: “At the same time there are efforts to regulate them, [you] have oil and gas companies, [you] have trial lawyers, [you] have all the major interests that have an outcome in this election and an outcome in policy being able to pour this money in . . . they want access to influence the political process. It’s corrupting!” We’ve moved, in this astonishing formulation, from the revolutionary battle cry of “No taxation without representation” to something like: “Because of possible taxation or regulation, no representation.”

The same pro-regulation mindset occupied the reform advocates who, in early 2007, sought to include in Congress’s lobbying reform bill a provision that would heavily regulate “grassroots lobbying”—that is, corporate appeals to citizens to voice their opinions on particular issues to members of Congress. (The classic example: the “Harry and Louise” ad that helped torpedo Hillarycare back in 1993.) The Senate stripped the anti-grassroots-lobbying provision from the bill, to the dismay of Meredith McGehee, policy director of the pro-reform Campaign Legal Center, who decried the practice of “Astroturf lobbying.” Apparently when productive businesses, worried about excessive government regulation, try to get voters on their side, that’s Astroturf lobbying—fake and unworthy of protection. But when a foundation-funded organization with no public accountability, such as the Campaign Legal Center, speaks out in Washington, well, those are the authentic grassroots.

Campaign finance regulation, far from improving our democratic processes, has already begun to undermine them in a number of ways. One is the way that it entrenches incumbents in office. Dissenting in McConnell v. FEC, the case that upheld the constitutionality of McCain-Feingold, Justice Antonin Scalia went to the core of the issue: “Is it accidental, do you think, that incumbents raise about three times as much ‘hard money’—the sort of funding generally not restricted by this legislation—as do their challengers?” he scoffed. Scalia also pointed out that McCain-Feingold allowed higher contributions to candidates running against self-financed millionaires—who tend to be incumbents, since self-financed millionaires are usually mavericks challenging established politicians. Moreover, McCain-Feingold severely limited funding for national parties—which, Scalia wrote, are “more likely to assist cash-strapped challengers than flush-with-hard-money incumbents.” “Those who have power will create election rules that maximize the likelihood that they will win reelection,” the Cato Institute’s Samples says. “Campaign finance laws might be, in other words, a form of corruption.”

A still more insidious problem than incumbents’ self-dealing is the way that campaign finance regulation discourages true grassroots political activity. Longtime Washington campaign finance attorney Jan Baran jokes that McCain-Feingold’s official acronym, “BCRA,” stands not for “Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act” but for “Before Campaigning, Retain Attorney.” Samples adds, more seriously: “Today no one should exercise his First Amendment rights without advice from counsel, preferably one schooled in the intricacies of campaign finance regulation.”

Consider two examples. During the 2000 presidential race, four men placed a homemade sign, reading VOTE REPUBLICAN: NOT AL GORE SOCIALISM, on a cotton trailer along a Texas highway. The FEC spent nearly 18 months investigating the incident, because the sign lacked the legally required information about who had paid for it. And in 2004, NASCAR driver Kirk Shelmerdine spent $50 to affix a BUSH-CHENEY ’04 decal to an unsold spot on his car’s advertising space. The FEC admonished him for making an unreported campaign expenditure. Such cases are not merely examples of bureaucratic excess, points out campaign finance lawyer Bob Bauer, a lonely anti-reform voice in Democratic circles: under today’s intrusive laws, Shelmerdine’s activities ought to have set off an FEC inquiry.

Nor are such cases rare. While serving on the FEC from 2000 to 2005, I kept a file of letters from political amateurs caught in the maw of campaign finance laws. Many of these people had no lawyers; none had the least intent to corrupt any officeholder; all thought that they were fulfilling their civic duty by their involvement in campaigns.

A Texas dentist wrote: “It is 5:30 PM on Good Friday. Today, like many days previous, I have taken time away from my business and my family to respond to the Commission. . . . I am being pursued by the Commission to pay over $30,000 from my personal funds.”

A CPA who had served as a volunteer campaign treasurer, and who was facing over $7,000 in fines for improper reporting, wrote: “No job I have ever undertaken caused me more stress than this one. I was frightened and concerned every day that I would do something wrong.”

Another volunteer treasurer asked the Commission to waive its fines: “We were just honest, hard working, tax paying Americans who wanted to make a difference . . . at this point, we are so disillusioned with the [legal] difficulty of running for office that we wonder why anyone other than a professional would attempt to do so.”

A retired high school teacher wrote: “I taught, and believe, that we have the best government in the world. I was happy to be part of the process. . . . I made every attempt to comply and am now being fined $600 for a misunderstanding.” The letters flowed in—from lawyers, teachers, doctors, retirees, all facing investigations and fines for their volunteer political activity. One summed up: “I will NEVER be involved with a political campaign again.”

Though they claim to speak for average citizens, reformers don’t care much about the way their reforms hurt those citizens. Trevor Potter, president of the Campaign Legal Center and a McCain adviser, has dismissed complaints by arguing that campaign-finance laws are no more complex than antitrust or patent laws. “They are worth the inconvenience and lawyers’ fees they generate,” says Potter—who also heads the campaign finance practice at the upscale law firm of Caplin & Drysdale, where partner billing rates can range upward of $750 per hour.

Despite the labyrinthine complexity of campaign finance law, the reform community is busily expanding regulation even further. For example, the FEC’s regulations implementing McCain-Feingold specifically exempted much Web activity from regulation. So the law’s lead House sponsors, Democrat Marty Meehan of Massachusetts and Republican Chris Shays of Connecticut, sued successfully in federal court to force the FEC to regulate more Web activity, and then defeated a congressional effort to codify an Internet exemption to the law. The ensuing FEC rules took a light hand, but the troubling fact remains that individual online activity is now subject to regulation. (See “The Plot to Shush Rush and O’Reilly,” Winter 2006.)

Another disturbing regulatory trend is to go beyond regulating the money that funds speech to regulating the speech itself. For example, in the Shelmerdine case, the FEC valued the driver’s “contribution” not at the $50 that it cost him to place a decal on his car, but at several thousand dollars—what the FEC determined to be the advertising spot’s monetary value. Similarly, if an executive instructs his secretary to type a fund-raising letter, the FEC values the contribution not at the cost of typing the letter, but at the amount of money that the letter raises. This move dramatically expands the reach of campaign finance laws: not only can the FEC limit funds that can be used for speech, but it can limit speech itself by assigning it a monetary value. And it opens the door to all kinds of mischief: for instance, the FEC could determine that a posting on a popular blog was worth thousands of dollars.

If that sounds farfetched, consider that in Washington State a trial court ordered that radio disc jockeys John Carlson and Kirby Wilbur report their on-air talk as campaign contributions. The Washington State Supreme Court reversed the case this April, but the court didn’t base its decision on the First Amendment, instead ruling that the statute in question didn’t cover radio talk. In a footnote, the court specifically noted that “nothing in our decision today forecloses the legislature, or the people via the initiative process, from limiting the statutory media exemption.”

Such an intrusive regulatory regime is but a logical step toward the holy grail of campaign finance reform: a fully regulated, taxpayer-funded system of political speech. Richard Hasen, an oft-quoted expert on campaign finance whom the media regularly portray as a moderate voice for reform, has proposed limiting citizens’ financial participation in politics to a government-provided voucher, and prohibiting any other private funding of political speech. Edward Foley, a former Ohio state solicitor and director of Ohio State University’s influential election-law program, has made a similar proposal. Both experts would extend their regulations even to newspaper editorial pages. Hasen explains that he’s trying to solve the “Rupert Murdoch problem”—just in case you had any doubt about whom he’s got in his sights.

Conservatives, historically uninterested in mobilizing against “reform,” have tended to depend on the courts to strike down the worst laws. Indeed, many believe that President Bush signed McCain-Feingold because his legal advisers assured him that the courts would never tolerate the law’s new restrictions. But the Supreme Court has been erratic in protecting political speech. In McConnell v. FEC, the case that upheld McCain-Feingold, the Court gave political speech less protection than Internet pornography, simulated child pornography, topless dancing, tobacco advertising, and the dissemination of illegally acquired information.

Last term, the Supreme Court did step back from the abyss. In Randall v. Sorrell, it struck down expenditure limits and very low contribution limits (including limits on volunteer time) in Vermont, while in Wisconsin Right to Life v. FEC, it held that there might be constitutionally necessitated exceptions to McCain-Feingold’s limits on broadcast ads mentioning a candidate within 60 days of an election. (The latter case will be back before the Court this term, since a lower court has held that Wisconsin Right to Life’s ad indeed merited such an exception.)

These are encouraging developments, but free-speech advocates shouldn’t count too heavily on the Supremes to do the heavy lifting. The main reason that the Court decided last term’s cases differently from McConnell is that Justice Alito had replaced Justice O’Connor, giving the Court a 5–4 majority in favor of a more robust interpretation of the First Amendment. But two members of that majority are over age 70. It is unlikely that President Bush will get another judicial appointment; it is equally unlikely that a Democratic president, or a President McCain, would appoint pro-speech judges to the Court.

It also seems doubtful that the Court will ever take a stand against campaign finance regulation in toto. Justice Kennedy, part of the 5–4 pro-speech majority, is a staunch supporter of free speech in individual cases, but unlike Justices Scalia and Thomas, he has been unwilling to hold that all contribution limits are unconstitutional. Absent a clear constitutional bar to regulation, a future Court may remove whatever restraints this Court places on the legislature—much as the McConnell Court did to Buckley’s curbs on FECA.

“I have come to doubt that the masses of the people have sense enough to govern themselves,” wrote Ben Tillman, the founder of federal campaign finance reform, in 1916. Eighty years later, House Minority Leader Richard Gephardt famously described the battle over campaign finance reform as “two important values in direct conflict: freedom of speech and our desire for healthy campaigns in a healthy democracy. You can’t have both.”

Many a tax- and regulation-prone politician, stymied by real political debate, would agree with both men. But Norm Feck and his Parker North neighbors, Washington deejays Carlson and Wilbur, the Texas dentist facing $30,000 in fines, and tens of thousands of NASCAR fans realize that free speech is not a bar to healthy democracy but a cornerstone of it. It’s imperative that we speak up to defend freedom of speech—before that very speaking up becomes impossible.

Bradley A. Smith is the former chairman of the Federal Election Commission, the chairman of the Center for Competitive Politics, and a professor of law at Capital University Law School in Columbus, Ohio.

ABC movie critic Joel Siegel dead at 63

ABC movie critic Joel Siegel dead at 63

2 hours, 12 minutes ago



NEW YORK - Joel Siegel, a longtime movie critic for "Good Morning America" who was famous for his weekly, often humorous reviews, died Friday, ABC officials said. He was 63.

Siegel, who got his start at the network by working for New York affiliate WABC-TV, had battled colon cancer, the station said.

"Joel was an important part of ABC News and we will miss him," ABC News President David Westin said in a statement. "He was a brilliant reviewer and a great reporter. But much more, he was our dear friend and colleague. Our thoughts and prayers are with Joel's family."

Siegel was known for his sense of humor, movie acumen and sharp judgment. He never let an actor off the hook if the performance was lackluster.

"The appeal of Matthew McConaughey has long evaded me both as a pinup and as an actor," Siegel said in his review of 2006's "We Are Marshall." "His constant ticks, bad hair and strained syntax as a coach fumble what should have been the tragic and inspirational story of the rebuilding of Marshall University's football team after a devastating plane crash."

Dave Davis, president and general manager of WABC-TV, said Siegel loved to poke fun at uninspiring movies.

"No one had more fun writing about a bad movie than Joel," Davis said.

ABC anchor Charles Gibson said Siegel knew how to tell a story.

"He had an inexhaustible supply of stories — most funny, many poignant, all with a point or a punch line," Gibson said.

Born in Los Angeles on July 7, 1943, Siegel graduated cum laude from the University of California, Los Angeles. After college, he started writing for The Los Angeles Times, where he reviewed books.

He landed in New York City in 1972 and worked as a reporter for WCBS-TV. He also hosted "Joel Siegel's New York" on WCBS Radio. Four years later he jumped to WABC, cementing his reputation as a film critic over the next three decades.

In 1981, he joined "Good Morning America" and became a regular as the network's entertainment editor, easily recognizable by his thick mustache and glasses.

In addition to five New York Emmy Awards, he received a public-service award from the Anti-Defamation League of B'nai B'rith, and was honored by the New York State Associated Press Broadcasters Association for general excellence in individual reporting.

Survivors include his son, Dylan, and wife, Ena Swansea.

Wrestler Benoit, wife and son found dead

Wrestler Benoit, wife and son found dead

By DEBBIE NEWBY, Associated Press Writer
11 minutes ago

FAYETTEVILLE, Ga. - WWE wrestler Chris Benoit, his wife, and son were found dead Monday and police said they were investigating the deaths as a murder-suicide.

Detective Bo Turner told television station WAGA that the case was being treated as a murder-suicide, but said that couldn't be confirmed until evidence was examined by a crime lab.

The station said that investigators believe the 40-year-old Benoit killed his wife, Nancy, and 7-year-old son, Daniel, over the weekend, then himself on Monday. A neighbor called police, and the bodies were found in three rooms.

Lead investigator Lt. Tommy Pope, of the Fayette County Sheriff's Department, told The Associated Press the deaths were being investigated as homicide, and that the causes of death awaited autopsy results on Tuesday. Pope said the bodies were discovered about 2:30 p.m., but refused to release details.

The house is in a secluded neighborhood set back about 60 yards off a gravel road, surrounded by stacked stone wall and a double-iron gate. On Monday night, the house was dark except for a few outside lights. There was a police car in front, along with two uniformed officers.

Benoit was a former world heavyweight and Intercontinental champion. He also held several tag-team titles during his career.

"WWE extends its sincerest thoughts and prayers to the Benoit family's relatives and loved ones in this time of tragedy," the federation said in a statement on its Web site.

Benoit was scheduled to perform at the "Vengeance" pay-per-view event Sunday night in Houston, but was replaced at the last minute because of what announcer Jim Ross called "personal reasons."

The native of Canada maintained a home in metro Atlanta from the time he wrestled for the defunct World Championship Wrestling.

The WWE canceled its live "Monday Night RAW" card in Corpus Christi, Texas, and USA Network aired a three-hour tribute to Benoit in place of the scheduled wrestling telecast.

"My relationship with Chris has extended many years and I consider him a great friend," Carl DeMarco, the president of WWE Canada, said in a statement. "Chris was always first-class — warm, friendly, caring and professional one of the best in our business."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bill's Comment: Based on what I have both read and heard, I would not be surprised if it was a double murder-suicide. The authorites found neither any stab wounds nor gunshot holes, my hypothesis is that they were poisoned.

The bigger question here is, "Why?" We may never know. In my opinion, he was one of the best ring performers in modern time. It is such a shame to see anybody die at such a young age. (Chris Benoit recently turned forty.) Hopefully, the autopsy will provide some answers. Stay tuned.

For more updated information regarding, please go to www.wwe.com

Bob Ford | To tell the truth: Giambi's honesty and MLB

Bob Ford | To tell the truth: Giambi's honesty and MLB

By Bob Ford
Inquirer Columnist

Posted on Sun, Jun. 24, 2007

Jason Giambi, apparently a little slow on the uptake, has finally learned the biggest truth about baseball's continuing wrangle with the issue of steroids: Honesty will get you nowhere.
What honesty got Giambi last week was a date with former Sen. George Mitchell, the leader of baseball's official investigation into the use of performance-enhancing drugs. Mitchell must be tickled about it, because 15 months into his investigation he hadn't talked to a single active player, which was making it difficult to find stuff to put between the covers of his report. Plus, it was kind of embarrassing.

Then along came Giambi, who was quoted in a USA Today article on steroids last month, saying he was "wrong for doing that stuff."

That was the money quote as far as commissioner Bud Selig was concerned. He finally had someone to tie to the railroad tracks, someone who would allow him to look and sound like a tough guy. And, perhaps more to the point, he finally had someone he could feed to Mitchell, so that baseball's pretend investigation wouldn't look so blatantly toothless.

Selig huffed and puffed and threatened Giambi with suspension and punishment - which Giambi would have fought and won, by the way - but eventually settled for adding the player's name to Mitchell's empty appointment book.

"I will take Mr. Giambi's level of cooperation into account in determining appropriate further action," Selig said, doing his Mr. Stern Commissioner impersonation.

What Selig and the rest of baseball should have focused on was not merely that Giambi admitted using steroids during its heyday of abuse, but also on what he said about the entire issue of closure.

"What we should have done a long time ago was stand up - players, ownership, everybody - and said, 'We made a mistake,' " Giambi said in the article. "We should have apologized back then and made sure we had a rule in place and gone forward. . . . Steroids and all of that was a part of history. But it was a topic that everybody wanted to avoid. Nobody wanted to talk about it."

Apparently, that is still the case. Baseball, under Selig's leadership, is content to issue a meaningless report (someday) and then declare the war over. Giambi's suggestion that management accept some of the responsibility for what happened is going to take place when runners circle the bases clockwise.

Selig will sigh and bemoan the fact that a few misguided players might have cheated, but he will never admit that he and baseball's front office were either too stupid, too greedy, or too afraid to confront the issue when pop-armed freaks were destroying the game's precious records.

If Selig was to take Giambi's advice, he would offer amnesty, not the threat of punishment, for those who came forward to give fans an honest accounting of what happened. As it is now, the effect of steroids on the game is like the submerged portion of the iceberg. No matter how big it is, the imagination can make it bigger.

Coming forward, though, doesn't seem like a good option. The truth teller, as Giambi learned, is dragged onto the commissioner's carpet, browbeaten in public, and forced to testify in a court that has no rules at all.

Giambi, in a statement issued by the Players Association, said he would be "candid about my past history regarding steroids," but, much to the relief of some other players, added, "I will not discuss in any fashion any other individual."

That means Selig and Mitchell can continue to flog Giambi - "We got one! We got one!" - but the overall effect is merely cosmetic.

Meanwhile, Barry Bonds is just six behind Henry Aaron's career mark of 755 home runs. The Web site of the San Francisco Giants is imploring fans to cast votes to add Bonds to the All-Star Game roster. (Reminding them that, in baseball's ridiculous system, fans can vote up to 25 times for each e-mail address they have. Think the Giants' office interns are cranking out the votes?)

Bonds, who hit a home run every 6.5 at-bats in 2001 when he set the single-season record of 73, has four home runs in his previous 102 at-bats, including a homer Friday against the Yankees. He was homerless last week during a three-game series in Milwaukee, with Selig watching from the shadows of a luxury suite.

The record will be broken, though, and it will be broken by a man who cheated to break it. That is my opinion, and it will remain nothing more than opinion because baseball doesn't really want the truth out there. Baseball wants the truth to go away.

Anyone who, like Giambi, felt that honesty was a reasonable option got a real lesson last week. Honesty gets you nothing but a lecture, a threat, and a long conversation with George Mitchell. And that's a man with plenty of time on his hands and lots of empty pages upon which to write your name.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contact columnist Bob Ford
at 215-854-5842 or bford@phillynews.com.

Read his recent work at http://go.philly.com/bobford.

Former All-Star Beck dead at 38

Former All-Star Beck dead at 38

Longtime MLB closer found in his home on Saturday
By Barry M. Bloom / MLB.com

SAN FRANCISCO -- Rod Beck, a former reliever for the Giants, Padres, Cubs and Red Sox, has passed away, the Giants said on Sunday. Beck was 38 years old.
Beck's body was found in bed at noon on Saturday by two female friends who were visiting his North Phoenix home and there was no sign of foul play, said Sgt. Andy Hill, a spokesman for the Phoenix Police Dept., which was dispatched to the residence along with medics from the Phoenix Fire Dept. The Giants were informed of Beck's death on Saturday night and told the players, announcers and front-office staff, who were openly talking about the death prior to Sunday's 7-2 victory over the Yankees at AT&T Park.

"It comes as a complete shock," said Barry Bonds, who played with Beck on the Giants from 1993-97. "We all just found out. He was a great guy, great for us when he was here."

No cause was released, pending an autopsy and possible toxicology report, Hill said, adding that an investigation is standard when a dead body is found alone. Also, Hill said undisclosed evidence was confiscated from the scene by investigating officers. Beck had a history of substance abuse and went into drug rehab only months before his career ended with the Padres in 2004, when current Giants skipper Bruce Bochy was the manager in San Diego.

Beck came up with the Giants in 1991 and holds the team record for most saves in a single season with 48 in 1993, although his career best was 51 for the Cubs in 1998. His 199 saves with the Giants is second in club history to Robb Nen, who finished with 206, and his 286 saves during his 13-year career places him 22nd on Major League Baseball's all-time list.

A three-time All-Star with the Giants, Beck was nicknamed "The Shooter" by his teammates on that 1993 team that won 103 games but lost the National League West title on the last day of the season to the Braves.

"Because he was a gunslinger, man," said Mike Krukow, the former Giants pitcher and current announcer who retired in 1989, before Beck joined the team. "That's the way he approached everything. He had a huge heart, a Hall of Fame heart."

Beck was estranged from his wife, Stacy, who traveled to California, where the couple's two daughters were in camp.

The Giants were told about Beck's death on Saturday night by Rick Thurmond, Beck's agent, who requested that the team refrain from issuing a formal statement until the girls were informed.

"Rod became a fixture in the San Francisco community where he spent most of his career," Thurman said on Sunday. "Shooter was a hard-nosed, blue-collar kind of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve, and that is what made him so endearing to baseball fans everywhere."

The Giants family has been rocked by a number of deaths in the last year or two, including Tom Haller, Ed Bailey, Jose Uribe, Chris Brown, Pat Dobson and Harmon Burns, the team's majority owner. Beck's was the latest to digest.

"Everyone in the Giants organization is deeply saddened by the loss of a dear friend," Peter Magowan, the team's managing general partner, said. "Rod Beck was a true Giant in every sense of the word -- from his dedication on the field to his selflessness away from the park. Today, our hearts go out to the Beck family. Rod will be deeply missed."

"He was just a regular person," added Brian Sabean, the team's general manager. "I don't want to say he was almost like a civilian in the clubhouse, but he wasn't at all like a baseball player. He loved cowboy boots, he loved kids, he loved country music and he loved to smoke cigarettes. He was an upbeat personality who respected the game, loved the game and loved the Giants. His stay here certainly set the tone for a lot of things we were able to do."

Likewise, the Padres have had their share of bereavement. Since Alan Wiggins died in 1991, Eric Show, Jack Krol, Mike Darr and Ken Caminiti have all perished young. Bochy, then a backup catcher, played with Wiggins and Show and when Krol was a coach on San Diego's 1994 NL pennant-winning team. Bochy managed Darr, Caminiti and Beck during his 12 seasons in the San Diego dugout.

Wiggins, Show and Caminiti all suffered drug-related deaths. And Beck was barely beginning his second season with the Padres when he went into rehab. He was released by the team on Aug. 24, 2004, and never pitched in the Major Leagues again.

"[Beck] went out and got some help, I know that," Bochy said on Sunday. "In '04, during the spring, he had some problems. That's when he went into rehab, but I don't know where."

The previous season, with Trevor Hoffman recovering from shoulder surgery, Beck was reclaimed off the junk heap and saved 20 games in 20 chances. It was one of the top feel-good stories in San Diego of an otherwise dreary 2003 season, the last for the franchise at Qualcomm Stadium in Mission Valley.

"This is a bad day in baseball to lose a guy at such an early age who's done so much for the game," Bochy said. "[In San Diego], what a job he did for us. We were desperate at the time for a closer. I know he and Trevor became very good friends. He was such a warrior on the mound. Anybody who played with Rod Beck can tell you just what a great teammate he was, what a big heart he had."

Beck grew up in the Los Angeles area and was drafted in 1986 by the A's, who traded him to the Giants two years later. His San Francisco run ended when he became a free agent after the NL West-winning 1997 season, and he signed with the Cubs. Beck was on the mound against the Giants a year later and closed the NL Wild Card playoff game at Wrigley Field, putting the Cubs back into the playoffs for the first time since 1989. But he was traded to Boston before the 1999 season was complete.

Though his Cubs tenure lasted less than two years, he was fondly remembered in Chicago. Last Sept. 2 at Wrigley, Beck was invited back for a Giants-Cubs game to throw out the first pitch and sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."

"I heard the stories that he said, 'I'll pitch every day,' and that's the attitude I have towards pitching," said Cubs reliever Scott Eyre, who like Beck, lists the Giants and Cubs on his resume. "He pitched every single day and he saved every game for weeks straight. He went out there with nothing, and still had all the confidence in the world."

Beck's Boston tenure was equally as short, lasting little more than two years before he blew out his right elbow. But "The Shooter" still had his impact.

"I'm just a little lost for words," said Jason Varitek, the Red Sox catcher, who played with Beck during those years. "He didn't have the same fastball by the time he got to Boston, but you learn different ways to succeed. He could pitch. More so, he was just such a great teammate. A great person to be around. I just can't say enough about what a great teammate he was."

Beck missed the 2002 season after having Tommy John surgery, but in early 2003 he tried to rejuvenate his career with the Triple-A Iowa Cubs. In Des Moines, he became a mini personality, living in his mobile home outside the outfield fence and drinking beer with fans when they dropped by to visit.

"He came there and his stuff wasn't what it was, but he had the savvy and the desire, even in Triple-A," said Mike Quade, the Cubs' third-base coach now and the Iowa manager back then. "It wasn't easy for him. He had a trailer and lived outside the ballpark. He was a fun-loving guy, a competitive guy, and he loved life."

With Beck's passing on Sunday, that's undoubtedly the way he will be remembered most.

Barry M. Bloom is a national reporter for MLB.com. MLB.com reporters Carrie Muskat and Ian Browne contributed to this story. This story was not subject to the approval of Major League Baseball or its clubs.