Inside the world of Sid Hartman

Yeah, good point, I doubt Lupica is banging out columns in his 90s.

 

He might be. I was just reading the Will Leitch piece about Sports on Earth shutting down, and Lupica was writing for them for some reason. Some people are just word machines.

 

An asshole.

But a connected one with an inspiring amount of energy. And venom.

For some reason, he made some rude comments at me in a Vikings locker room after another post season loss. This must have been 1999 I'm thinking. Out of nowhere.

I spent the next five years jawing back and forth with him all over the Twin Cities in post-game settings. He probably never even knew my name but he would always have something rude for me. So I gave it back to him.

Peak amusement. A Twins home opener. Metrodome press box. Sid gets bored with the game and walks over to a freezer in the cox which, apparently, he believed had ice cream sandwiches in them. I'm watching this from the third row of the press box.

No sandwiches.

Now he's irritated.

He walks over to the overhead TV that is showing the in-house feed of the game.

He's trying to change the channels to something more interesting.

I can't resist.

"Hey, Sid." I say. "Diagnosis Murder is tomorrow night."

The writers in the press box start howling.

Sid turns around and locks eyes with me.

"You little fucker! Who let you in here? What kind of shitty operation are the Twins running to let you in here?"

After that, I would call into his dreadful weekend show two or three times a year and offer a Jim Rome Jungle-Style hot take. Flustering Sid was high comedy to me back then.

 

Based on this threat, it sounds like somebody should have knocked Sid the fuck out at least once during his 97 years. Maybe more than once.

 

Nothing will ever be better than the first date story, but this is as close as one can get without having sex on the staircase,

 

Good point. And you would know this. How long did Shirley Povich work?

 

I respect his work ethic. That's also part of his DNA. It's insecurity. I have that same motivation by fear of being irrelevant. I get it.

Still an asshole.

Minnesota sports media has had the same 7 or 8 people the last 25 years who run the agenda. Sid, Reusse, Barriero, Rosen, Schmit, Shaver, Sansevere. They're like Supreme Court justices.

Some of those guys aren't even on the job they were known for and are still plugged in.

Days before Denny Green left, I was working with one of the SupCos listed above.

A rumor of the exit was floating and this one guy pulled out his old cell phone. Make two phone calls - All he said was "uh huh. Yeah. Sure. Uh huh. Thanks."

It broke that day. I was floored by his plugged in all those guys are. They all mark their telephone poles.

 

That's Sid Hartman pictured with newly-retired Eric Decker. Judging by the uniform, and what looks to be the inside of the Metrodome, the picture would be from 2008. That would put Decker at 21 years old and Hartman at 88 at the time of the photo. Today, Sid Hartman is 98 and still working. He still attends many press conferences and asks questions. Still has a weekly column.

 

My father was born and raised in Minneapolis, in the same north Minneapolis neighborhood Sid was raised and where most of the Minneapolis Jews lived. All the Jewish families knew each other, so my dad knew him, even though he was a few years older than Sid. My father sold newspapers when he was a little kid, which I’m sure made him feel like he had a other connection to Sid.

I remember my dad talking about occasions when he’s run into Sid downtown and how he shared his analysis of whatever game was of interest at the moment - Twins, Gopher football and basketball for my father. He was quite pleased when Sid mentioned him on the radio one day.

I don’t care if he’s an asshole.

He’s part of my Minneapolis home and my memories of my father.