Month: April 2020

Veteran Bollywood actor Irrfan Khan, who rose to international acclaim with roles in such films as “Slumdog Millionaire” and “Life of Pi,” has died at the age of 54.A spokesman said Khan died Wednesday in a Mumbai hospital where he had been admitted earlier this week for a colon infection.  Khan sought treatment in Britain after he was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer in 2018.The native of India’s western desert state of Rajasthan broke into the Indian film industry in 1988 in the Academy Award-nominated drama “Salaam Bombay.”  Khan went on to star in a number of notable Bollywood films, including “The Namesake” “The Lunchbox” and “Paan Singh Tomar,” which earned him India’s National Film Award for best actor in 2012.In addition to “Slumdog Millionaire,” which won the 2008 Acadamy Award for Best Picture, Khan appeared in such Hollywood films as “The Amazing Spider Man,”“Jurassic World” and “Inferno.”His most recent role was the Bollywood film “Angraezi Medium,” a sequel to his hit 2017 film “Hindi Medium.” The new movie was released before India was placed under a nationwide lockdown due to the coronavirus pandemic.  
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When the coronavirus began raising concerns in China this past January, Taiwan’s professional baseball league set up a task force to help determine whether the outbreak would spread into nearby Taiwan and scuttle a scheduled 2020 season start in March.    After China sealed off its disease outbreak center Wuhan and hundreds of Taiwanese began fleeing back from Lunar New Year holidays in China around the start of February, the Taipei-based Chinese Professional Baseball League brought on a legal expert too. “We figured conditions were extremely serious,” commissioner Wu Chih-yang said in an interview. A veteran sports watcher anywhere in the world would assume at this point that the league delayed play until May, June or whenever. Pro baseball and basketball have put off play in the United States. Baseball has been halted for now in Japan and South Korea. The 2020 Tokyo Olympics will take place in 2021. But the Taiwan baseball league opened play just three weeks late, on April 11. Its five teams intend to finish all 240 normal season games before December even though at the present time the teams are playing the games without their usual crowds of thousands.   Here’s how the league beat the odds. As the disease spread in China in February and March, Taiwan’s league was trying to plan its normal season as well as two other series including one in preparation for the 2020 summer Olympics, which hadn’t yet been postponed. At the same time, the Taiwan government’s Central Epidemic Command Center was laying out ideas on how to manage large events such as ball games, but they were just suggestions, Wu recalled.  In view of the advice, the government’s suggestions and confusion after two brief season delays in March and Taiwan’s light coronavirus caseload, the league decided to start play with empty stadiums but enough atmosphere that viewers at home could imagine the real thing. Taiwan’s outbreak of the coronavirus-caused respiratory disease COVID-19 has reached 429 cases over a total 23 million population, one of the developed world’s lowest infection rates. It’s low enough to protect gatherings of athletes and other personnel, the league found. But crowds of spectators, who had averaged 6,000 per game in previous seasons, could spread the virus, Wu said.This Friday, April 24, 2020, photo, shows Chinatrust Brothers players during a game against Fubon Guardians with no audience at Xinzhuang Baseball Stadium in New Taipei City, Taiwan.Cheerleaders can get into the venues now because they’re known to the teams rather than strangers. They do enough dancing that TV and internet viewers can exercise in sync with their moves while watching from home, Wu said. Cheerleading, rah-rah music tracks blasted through the stadium speakers and empty seats in some stadiums decked with spectator-like mannequins add a sense authenticity despite lack of fans. One team has brought in six robots as drummers. “I think we’d all like more fans to come in and cheer us on, but there’s truly no way for that, due to the outbreak,” said Wang Wei-chen, an infielder with the Chinatrust Brothers team. “We’re lucky we can play games and let people see them.” Online viewing that hit 650,000 people during one game April 15 attracts brands to display ads in stadiums and promotes the sale of team-specific uniforms worn by cheerleaders, the commissioner said. “If they were losing money, no one would do this,” he said of the teams. Wu believes Taiwan’s professional baseball league is the only major one that’s playing in the world now. “We won’t of course call it glory,” Wu said. “We want players all over the world to stay healthy and then get through the disease outbreaks and be able to start their seasons smoothly, because actually to be the only one is quite lonely.” At the request of some teams, the league decided last week to add English-language play-by-play narration and commentary at each stadium, Wu said. That perk allows people in the United States and other countries without baseball to follow Taiwan’s games. “Taiwan baseball has gone down very well in America,” said Sean King, vice president of the Park Strategies political consultancy. “The relatively small number of Taiwanese teams enables viewers to get know the entire league after only a few games. The fact that Taiwan baseball’s even on shows the world what a great job Taiwan’s done against COVID-19.” That Taiwan’s league can play this month isn’t a diplomatic tool for the island that’s always keen to expand international recognition in the face of its more powerful rival China, however. It reflects “our success in public health policy advanced planning and implementation,” foreign ministry spokesperson Joanne Ou said. “It is just sport, never meant to be a tool of diplomacy,” Ou said. “It just happened to be the only one in the world to carry it out.” 
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He winds up and throws the apple core, aiming for the woods where he hopes a tree will grow. He overshoots his mark. It bounces across the hill of the next-door neighbors’ yard. “I’ll get it,” he says. But in these days of isolation and distance, that is a dicey proposition.Almost furtively, he scurries across the property line. He does not find it. I tell him that he must email the neighbors.For his email, he chooses the subject “Apple Issue.” He writes: “In this time of crisis, it is understandable that you wouldn’t want to touch a saliva-covered fruit. Therefore, if/when you find the apple core, if you would let me know, I would take it back.”He is 13. His name is Wyatt. He is my younger son. Other than his immediate family, he has not come within 20 yards of anyone he knows for nearly two months.My father was a naturalist. Much more, sadly, than I’ve ever been. He planted on our family property well into his mid-80s, when his knees could no longer take it.When I was little, he took me around the land that my wife and I now own, pointing out trees and identifying them as we walked through the backyard woods down to the rushing creek and back.He’d hand me sassafras leaves to chew and show me wild blackberry bushes to pick from. Today, on the property I inherited from my parents, a ginkgo tree — his favorite — looms over the front walk.After he died, I opened one of his reference books, “The Book of Trees.” Tucked carefully into the appropriate pages were dried leaves from his woods excursions.On his side, we come from a long line of cultivators — Ohio farmers, New York farmers, yankee farmers. My sister followed in their footsteps, to a fashion, becoming a molecular biologist after a thesis entitled “Dwarf Plants Produced from Treated Seeds.”Not me. I’m not a lawn-and-garden guy. The closest I’ve ever come to planting something was when I buried a crock of kimchi in the back yard in 1981, hoping it would ferment. That was the last we saw of it.An apple core-related email arrives from next door.”I suspect the deer will find and eat it before I find it. If I do come across it, I will let you know.”And: “If you want an apple tree to grow, I would suggest digging a small hole (2” deep) for each core and covering it with dirt. This is a good time of year to plant.”My son promptly eats another apple. Then he requests a shovel. He darts outside, ponders, picks a spot. He digs a tiny hole. He comes back in. Part of him seems 70. Part of him seems 7. “Dad, want to see me drop the apple core into the hole?”We trudge across the soaked lawn. Silently, I chastise myself for not being better at this stuff. I look over my shoulder at the south side of the house, at the narrow strip where my father grew peas in the 1980s and lost his wedding ring while attempting to cultivate cilantro in the 1990s. His green plastic wheelbarrow is still there. I’ve never moved it.The sassafras tree died during Reagan’s first term. The blackberry bushes disappeared while I was in college. The creek is still there, now usually dry.But now we have an apple core in the ground. Now we wait. Now, in this season of stagnation, there is growth to contemplate.I see myself coming back decades from now. Walking slowly across a better-kept lawn. Reaching up. Picking an apple. Taking a bite. Saying to a man now taller than me: “Hey, Wyatt. Remember the virus?”
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