Thanks to Dan Schlossberg for passing along this link for a unique video on the Yankees World Series victory from nytimes.com, as well as an explanation of the process.

After prayer and punch, Foreman takes Jewish victory lap

By Marc Brodsky and Gil Shefler

Yuri Foreman used his time wisely between rounds of his super welterweight world championship bout against titleholder Daniel Santos.

Not only did he take liquids and instruction from his corner, the Orthodox rabbinical student sought some divine assistance in the last 10 seconds of each 60-second break of the 12-rounder.

“God, please give me strength,” was his simple invocation.

Foreman related the tidbit at a Nov. 19 reception at a posh kosher steakhouse on New York’s East Side. The night before he was the guest of honor at a Jewish National Fund gala.

Think of it as an ethnic-themed victory lap for Foreman, 29, who found enough strength to win a unanimous decision on the night of Nov. 14 in Las Vegas for the World Boxing Association crown.

The Brooklyn boxer, via Belarus and then Israel, moved to 28-0 since turning pro seven years ago, even though most prognosticators figured he would fall to Santos.

At the reception, Foreman said he turns especially spiritual in the ring, gets “very close to God,” because “another guy wants to take your head off.”

Santos didn’t take off Foreman’s head, but the new champ, clad all in black for the Prime Grill fete featuring some sumptuous steak and chicken, did need 18 stitches (of course it was 18) to close a cut over his left eye.

Foreman’s spiritual mentor, Rabbi DovBer Pinson, said no other fighter can “balance spirituality and physicality” like Foreman, who he praised as a “gentle lion” breaking a lot of stereotypes about boxers and Jews.

What’s next for Foreman?

The fighter said he’d have to consult with his “second rabbi” and promoter, Top Rank’s Bob Arum. Foreman asked to know the veteran matchmaker’s Hebrew name.

“Reuven Moshe ben Shlomo,” Arum answered.

Should Foreman ever fight in Israel, Arum already has the bout named: “Next Year in Jerusalem.”

Attendees at the JNFuture’s 3rd annual gala event didn’t have to wait that long to hang out with the new champ. Foreman was the guest of honor at the event, held at a club in New York’s Soho district.

Organizers of the gathering, aimed at raising money for environmental causes in Israel, had booked Foreman well in advance of his title fight and were thrilled to have him there on one of his first public appearances since his victory in Vegas.

“It’s amazing to have him here,” said Gabrielle Carlan, one of the JNFuture promoters. “We’ve got a good turnout of 200-plus people, more than we had last year.”

Foreman’s wife, Leyla, told JTA at the event that she remained unusually calm during her husband’s fight.

“Most fights I’m very tense,” the Hungrian-born former model said. “But this time I had a good feeling. He had done all the training and all the praying right, what more could he do?”

Now eyes are on another observant Orthodox Jewish boxer with a shot at claiming a world champion boxing title, as Brooklyn’s Dmitriy Salita prepares to square off against champion Amir Khan in London on Dec. 3.

If Salita manages to defeat the heavily favored Khan in his own backyard, it would make an already great year for Jewish boxing even better.

More on Salita:

In a letter dated Nov. 19, Mayor Michael Bloomberg wished Salita luck in his upcoming title about against Amir Kahn.

On behalf of New York City, I want to wish you the very best as you head across the pond to Newcastle to take the Junior Welterweight Championship from Amir Kahn.

New Yorkers know that with hard work and dedication, the sky’s the limit. Throughout your stellar career you’ve always shown the fighting spirit that is so quintessentially New York, and is the reason so many world-class fighters have come out of the five boroughs. As someone devoted to faith — and your community — as you are to the ring, you’re also setting a wonderful example for others.

We’re very proud of you, and we look forward to welcoming you back to New York City as the new Junior Welterweight Champion of the world! All the best.

The Maccabi Haifa pro basketball team announced last week it would sponsor Salita in his quest. Logos of the team will appear on the fighter’s trunks, robe, and website.

“Dmitriy is a hero in the eyes of the Maccabi Haifa organization and the Jewish community in general,” said Jeff Rosen, Triangle Financial Service chair and team owner. “[We] will continue to support Jewish athletes who are making an impact in both the jewish community and their respective sport. We wish Dmitriy all the best for his upcoming fight and Maccabi Haifa is behind him 100 percent.”

Killing some time before my flight, so thought I’d give a preview (again) for entries in the near future:

• Interviews with the Jewish players
• Photos from camp
• The Shabbat Experience
• The fantasy of youthful endeavors

Like “regular” camps, we leave with new friendships, some souvenirs, and promises to keep in touch. I will go into more detail in the days to come, but just wanted to make a couple of quick points:

• My team, the Bombers, finished in second place. The early conceptions my teammates and coaches had at the beginning about our prospects were pleasantly surprisingly turned on their heads by the end of the session.
• The Kosher experience was outstanding. Ira Jaskoll and Julie Kremer truly did a great job coordinating everything from the food, to the game against the Yankee Legends played Friday afternoon instead of Saturday, to the arrangement for services and “kashering” the hotel.
• Kudos to Richard Kellner, one of our number, who received the first Catfish Hunter award. Bryan Hoch, who is down here covering the camp as the beat writer/camper for Yankees.com, wrote 

“Upon returning to our lockers this morning, there was a ballot for the Catfish Hunter Award, which is presented to the camper who best represents the spirit of the camp. I have no idea who everyone else voted for, but I scribbled in Richard Kellner’s name and it was an easy call.

“In the early innings of Game 1 on Tuesday, Kellner — playing shortstop for the Clippers — ranged back on a popup at the Himes Avenue complex and got under it before losing it in the blinding sun. The ball hit him directly on the nose and the result wasn’t pretty, requiring eight stitches to close up. Sure enough, when we took the field on Tuesday, he was back with us. That’s a gamer.”

Rich Kellner, a lawyer from the Los Angeles area, is down here with his brother, Steve, a pediatrician from Cedarhurts, NY. I first met Hoch more than a decade ago in the press box at Shea Stadium when he was a precocious 19-year-old with a Mets website. It was fun comparing notes, as it were, with him about our takes on the experience.

• As always, chatting with Ron Blomberg was a hoot. He dropped by the Shabbat dinner last night, though he declined to eat with us. Not a big fan of Jewish food, he said.

Anyway, it’s getting a little late here and I still have to pack. Look for photos, audio interviews, and more here on the blog and in the pages of the New Jersey Jewish News.

The Sheraton Suites has given us a room for our services and meals, which begin in about 10 minutes. Following tonight’s serv ice, Ron Blomberg, Marty Appel, and Irwin Cohen will speak about their Jewish live in baseball. More of the same tomorrow. After Havdalah, we’ll rejopin our teammates for a closing Banquet.

Good Shabbos, everybody!

There are two major purchases available here, aside from the gift shop: Still photos and videos.

Micheal Cerone and Tom Izor have been shooting campers — in a good way — since the first Fantasy Camp. They said their outfit, Sports Twin Photo, takes between 10,000 and 15,000 photos per weekly session: action, posed, with Yankee legends, special request: anything you can think up, they can give you.

Each day the campers can sit down at a computer set up especially for their team and look through the shots for possible purchase. All different sizes, with special effects, are available.

Tom Izor, left, and Michael Cerone operate Sports Twins Photos.

It’s not work to be taken lightly. In order to get the best shot, the photographers often put themselves in the line of fire, on the field and along the foul lines, while the action is going on. “The players are always getting in the way,” Cerone said, smiling.

Back in the day, photographers were allowed to stand on major league fields, albeit it in foul territory. But the Lords of baseball decided it was too dangerous — for the players. After that, the lensmen were practically herded up and put in “pens,” which are often too small to accommodate everyone. “Baseball is a game of inches,” Cerone, 72, said, “for photographers, too.”

When Cerrone started his Fantasy Camp gigs, he used film, with all the expense it entailed, including developing and processing. Now, with digital technology, his life is much easier, if not more lucrative because of the recession. ”God bless Photoshop,” he said.

From left, Gary, Javier, and Tim.

From day one, head trainer Gary and his associates Tim and Javier, massaged, taped, iced, heated, and medicated more than 50 percent of the campers, treating everything from pulled hamstrings to sprained ankles to, in my case, a calcium deposit that needed extra padding. Some of the guys feel they’re too tough, in too good shape to require such ministrations. Others are in there every time you turn around. They parade around the locker room with bags of ice taped to various body parts, making them look like a combination between the Michelin Man and Mr. Olympia.

Head trainer Gary assists another aching camper.

After the first day, I was so sore from catching one game and playing infield and outfield in the next that I could barely move my legs. I took a foul ball to the face mask that barely registered, followed by another foul ball off the forearm (unprotected), not to mention the constant up and down from squatting. Even getting on and off the bus on the way back to the hotel was an adventure. And I was one of the better cases.

The suggestion was made at the first camp meeting: “Start slow…and taper off.” But you can look at almost every camper and read his or her mind: that won’t happen to me. You figure you’re only here for a week; you can tough it out. That’s just crazy talk.

Each night is a call for a fresh application of balm (the trainers use a product called Atomic Balm which sounds as hot as it sounds, lasts forever, and increases in intensity the more you sweat) and a handful of Advil.

The trainer’s room is a tidy arrangement of tables, rolls of tape, assorted ointments, tools, and pills (all approved by MLB). Another room houses the hot tub and a trio of ice baths that look like large metal tubs with outboard motors on the inside. That’s quite an experience, one limited to less than 15 minutes, even for the hardiest among us.

The trainers are also responsible for stretching us out before each game. Participation is mandatory and sometimes like a game of Simon Says, as players do what they do rather than what they say.

I tell you what, all this gives you a better appreciation for all the little nicks, cuts, and bruises a player sustains in every game. Forget about the big stuff; it’s these nickle and diming that makes you feel mortal.

Julie Kremer, left, and Amysue Manzione

* * *

Julie Kremer, camp director, and Amysue Manzione, assistant camp director: Everything runs through these young women. They’re the administrative end, that keeps everything running smoothly, from arranging the Yankees players to scheduling the buses to dozens of little items that go unnoticed until something goes wrong.

Kremer worked in close association with Ira Jaskoll on the kosher component of this year’s camp, the first time the organization has offered such a feature. She has been in charge of the whole smear since 2004. “We had two kosher campers [in 2008; Jaskoll was one of them] that had called and they were interested in attending. They had concerns, obviously, because we weren’t providing kosher food. I said, if you arrange the food, we’ll go on with business as usual. Once camp was over, I spoke with Ira Jaskoll and he had the idea that we would offer kosher accommodations and on top of that we would go through the whole process of ordering kosher food, and on top of that, we would also provide Saturday services and Friday services as well.”

After services, the Kosher campers will have a few guest speakers, including former Yankee Ron Blomberg;, Marty Appell, former public relations director for the Yankees, and author of a recently published biography of Thurman Munson; and Irwin Cohen, author of seven books, and a former writer for a national baseball publication for five years before earning a World Series ring working as a department head for the Detroit Tigers in 1984. 

“Instead of the ‘Dream Game,’ [which pits the Yankees legends against the campers] on Saturday, we made a special dream game on Friday.” For most people, Kremer said, this was the highlight of the week, and since the games were normally scheduled for Saturdays, observant Jewish campers would be precluded from participating.

There are not enough Orthodox Jewish campers to make up a full team, so Kremer said

The response has been good, considering the economy. “I think we were right where we wanted to be,” she said. “Like everything, there’s that building process. And being where we are, I think it’s only going to get better for next year.”

The January session also has six observant Jews registered, she said. Jaskoll will once again serve as point man.

It’s something we’ve always talked about,” Kremer said. “It makes you a little nervous because it’s the first time we’ve done it, but we’ve done fine and the response has been great.”

Kremer, who is not Jewish, said this has been a learning experience. “There’s a lot I did not know and Ira’s been very good at teaching me what it’s all about, and it’s been great. We’re looking forward to next year.”

The bad news: it’s a calcium deposit.

That’s according to Trainer Gary, who gave me the once over after yesterday’s doubleheader. Whatever it is, it’s painful and prevents me from using my blazing speed (hey, it is fantasy camp, right?)

* * *

In a prefect world, we would all bat 1.000, strike out every opposing batter, and make every fielding play with style. But even here, baseball is a zero-sum game. Add up all the wins and losses and they’re the same. Although they don’t officially keep stats down here, I would say a good number of guys keep their own in their head. I have been “guilty” of that myself, as if it makes a difference in the grand scale of things, even at the professional sports level (sorry, for sounding so philosophical; didn’t get much sleep last night).

Anyway, up early to wait for the first bus so I can get to the trainer’s room for treatment.

In a high-price establishment, everything is taken care of for you. The accommodations, the activities,the laundry, the health care, the take-aways — and there are some nice takeaways. Seems to be something new every day. Today it was a pair of Nike running shoes and a hand-drawn caricature of the late Johnny Blanchard, a super sub for the Yankees of the early 1960s who was a staple at these camps for several years.

As in every social situation, a group dynamic begins to establish itself. There are one or two “alphas” because, hey, somebody has to take charge. That honor goes to Mike S., a toughie from the Monmouth County area who anchors third base. Then there are the quiet kids, in this case Craig, a software executive, and Bobby, a dentist, a pair of buddies from upstate New York, and John, D. a 60-something Southern gentleman from Tennessee. Three more friends — John M., Gene (known around here as “Gene and top of the order,” a nod to where he normally bats on their softball team), and Tony (the shortstop who doubles as the sub-Alpha). They’re the funny kids, quick with a self-deprecating joke. Nick, an accountant, is on the fence and can go either quiet or sub-Alpha. And, of course, Ira and his friend Rich who, at 75 is the elder statesman of the Bombers.

Which leads to another point: the reason we are all here. Without naming names, most are here for the sheer spectacle and enjoyment. If we happen to win a few games, so much the better. But if we were that good, we’d be the real ex-Yankees down here and not the paying customers. A few of the more competitive among us forget that, quick to annoyance when one of us makes an error in the field, though not so much at bat. It’s easy to win together; it’s tougher to lose. You hear quiet comments suggesting the finger of blame at this one or that, of an opportunity missed, but you know what? At the end of the week we all want to go home with pleasant memories of playing in a major league facility, puttin’ on the pinstripes, and pretending that we’re livin’ the dream, even if it’s just about sports.

Ouch.

Ouch.

I know I’m of a certain age, certainly no longer that of even an elderly professional athlete, but DAMMMMNnnn.

I stopped by the trainer’s room this morning, not for myself mind, you but just to ask head trainer Gary about the types and numbers of injuries he was seeing early on. Hamstrings, he said, because most of the guys do not stretch on a regular basis. We have mandatory stretching before each game, which has helped.

So in the first game, the Bombers extended their unbeaten streak to 3-0, taking the contest against the Bambinos, 7-4. I acquitted my employer and my faith well, going 4-5 with a couple of runs batted in, earning some kind words from the bubbly Jesse Barfield and coach Ron Shelton. MOT teammate Ira Jaskoll, who has earned the nickname”Rabbi” (what can I say, sports nicknames are frequently unimaginative and a bit, well, sarcastic, like tall a bald guy “Curly,” or a stout guy “Slim”), seems to take it all good-naturedly, as should be the case in this relaxed atmosphere. [Update: I later learned that Jaskoll is an actual rabbi, but I doubt the gentile players were aware of this.]

After the lunch break — somehow my kosher vegetarian meal wasn’t ordered — it was a brief rest then back to the main field for game two against the Thunder. We should have known we were in trouble when they gathered together for a group cheer. Sure enough, the first three guys got on and the cleanup hitter popped one over the left field fence, a legitimate shot. But again — and no sour grapes intended, the guy still had to hit the ball — the coaches are pitching what is basically batting practice.

I did not acquit my employer or faith as well in the second game, managing only one hit in four trips, with two RBI and, to my eternal chagrin, a strikeout. We ended up making it close (12-8), against the now 4-0 Thunder. This time I took advantage of the wonderful training facilities, getting ice treatment for a balky Achilles tendon and a bone bruise on my glove hand. I had actually dropped by a bit earlier the stupid accident of the week: sitting on my glasses. Fortunately they had an eyeglass screwdriver and were able to make the repairs.

Last night most of the Jewish campers ate together, Chicken or Salisbury steak for the meat-eaters, stir-fry tofu and couscous for me. Quite tasty. Jaskoll has done an excellent job, with Yankees camp leader Julie Kremer (who is not Jewish but is learning fast), in coordinating the meals. This morning was some sort of French Toast concoction which didn’t look that good but was actually quite tasty.

Other than the meals, which are delivered vacuum-sealed, the Jewish players are divided amount the teams. The only difference will be on Friday, when we play our two-inning game against the former Yankees. In fact, since there are just the six observant Jewish campers, we will need to recruit some Jews for a day, I suppose, to field a full team. On my team, Jaskoll and his friend, Rich Williams, sit at the far end of the section. I’m closer to the Gentile section, so I hear things. Am I being paranoid, supersensitive to the mumbles, said in jest, but perhaps more hurtful if spoken somewhat louder? After all, this is a locker room, where no topic is off limits when it comes to ragging on your teammates. I think I’ll reserve a bit of that until after camp is over. Now you know why most players wait until they retire to publish their memoirs.

Marty Appel will arrive tomorrow. Interested in what he’ll have to say of a Jewish nature.

Off to dinner: there’s a veggie meal with my name on it waiting for me at the kitchen.

Oh, one correction from the print edition of the paper: Elliot Maddox is not one of the Yankeesin attendance this time around. Pity; it would have made an interesting dynamic.

• The bases are miles apart, especially after playing softball for so many years.
• The bats weigh a ton, especially after using aluminum and other metal composites for softball.
• Wearing cleats all day cannot be good for your feet.
• Everything officially hurts. They say the older you get, the longer it takes for the pain to set in. If that’s the case, I’m actually feeling pretty young right about now. (I take that back, my fingernails don’t hurt. Anymore.)

The day started at 7, when we loaded the first of two buses to take us to George M. Steinbrenner Field. I must say I am very impressed with the level of organization. Prior to camp we had filled out forms re: sizes, and number preference, so when we arrived, everything was in readiness. A pinstriped uni, batting practice/road jersey, T-shirt, belt, socks, windbreaker and hat.

We all put on the pinstriped for the first in what will undoubtedly be many many many picture sessions. This was followed by a buffet breakfast, after which it was back to the locker room for an orientation session and to change into our uniforms of the day. For my team the Bombers, it was the home pinstripes.

Gary, the head trainer

Among these fine gentlemen, including clubhouse guys, trainers, photographers, and videographers, we met our next best friend, Gary — the trainer. He warned us to start slow and taper off. No joke. Some of these guys down here are quite competitive. It is my understanding that an entire team came down together. Jumping ahead here, but by days end, Gary told me he had seen at least 25 out of the 60 campers. One poor guy — one of the other Jewish players, in fact — lost a pop up in the sun at short and it hit him square on the nose. It wasn’t broken, but it did leave him with several stitches and a great story to tell.

So after a slew of photos, with our team, solo shots with our coaches, baseball-card type poses, etc., we got down to business.

The Bombers took on the Blanchards (named after the late Yankee back-up Cather who made several fantasy camp appearances). With 11 guys on our team, and no one offering to catch, I volunteered to do so, with no prior experience (which is why they call the gear “the tools of ignorance,” I guess.) I am proud — and relieved — to report that I made it through seven innings in the warm Tampa weather handling former major leaguers on the mound. Oh, who am I kidding — these guys were throwing from the bottom of the mound at batting practice speed. The rules here are designed for maximum enjoyment and minimum embarrassment. Campers pitch the final three innings, I suppose to move the game along at a brisk pace.

I took a foul ball off the mask, one of the thigh, one off the hand and totally flubbed a high pop-up that I could not locate. It landed about five feet from me, in fair territory, of course, and the runner made it to first safely. Still it was a good experience. I caught one camper-thrown inning, and he was bringing it faster than the coaches and figured I better quit while I was ahead. The Yankees actually provide “real” catchers for just such a circumstance.

At the plate, I went 1-3 as a clean-up hitter (totally arbitrary line-up) with a run scored in a 7-4 win. The hit came against Jesse Barfield, who was known for having one of the most powerful arms during his tenure in the Majors.

* * *

After a brief lunch, we hit the fields again. This time, we hopped on the bus to take us to the Yankees’ minor league facility a mile or so away where we took on the Clippers. This time I started at first base and served as the leadoff hitter. No doubt because of my blazing speed. Not. Went 3-5 including, depending on who you’re asking, a bases-clearing triple (the ball got by the right fielder on a tricky hop) as we swept the day’s games, 20-8.

Following a quick shower, I took in a Fantasy version of home run derby. Each team put up a couple of players to vie for the title. Then it was some bonding in a Yankees mini-restaurant (one of my teammates had a birthday today, so cake was served. Nice touch.) then back on the bus for the ride to the hotel for a well-deserved rest. Can’t wait to see how we all react tomorrow.

And let me tell you, it hasn’t been easy getting a connection to post this, so I hope ya’ll appreciate it.

So let’s do a quick re-cap.

Arrived yesterday after a pleasant plane ride (word of advice: Do not read Marty Appel’s bio of Thurman Munson while flying.) Ira Jaskoll, a professor at Yeshiva University’s Sy Syms School of Business, and his colleague and buddy, Dick Williams (not the major league manager from the 60s-80s) were on the flight as well.

A shuttle brought us to the Sheraton Suites were we signed in and were pretty much free until the cocktail party/dinner later in the afternoon.

Yankee "counselors" Mickey Rivers, Jesse Barfield, and Roy White

We met the Yankee Legends who serve as managers and coaches. My team — the Bombers — is led by Roy White and Jesse Barfied, with assistance from Ron Shelton, a veteran Yankee minor league instructor (and not the movie director, to my initial disappointment). Other Yankees here include Fritz Peterson, Mickey Rivers, Homer Bush, Chris Chambliss, Al Downing, Oscar Gamble (minus the giant Afro), Tommy John, Phil Linz (minus the harmonica), and, of most interest to the Jewish contingent, Ron Blomberg.

Ron Blomberg, left, and Ira Jaskow

Blomberg is a very affable guy, always smiling and laughing and making you feel like you’re his best friend. White has always been known as a quiet guy and Barfield is also friendly and jovial.

You wonder why these guys do it. For most, who played before the really big contracts, it’s how they earn their living now. I hope they like the gig. Not sure what they get paid, but it seems like easy money.

Reggie Jackson

Reggie Jackson showed up at the tail end of the dinner and regaled the audience with a few stories. Since I have no real interest in memorabilia or collecting, I didn’t hang around much after that, when Jackson was signing for the group.

So with the buses schedule to leave for the ballpark at 7 a.m., I headed off for a good night’s rest.