Monday, March 19, 2012
chock full of solid reporting nuggets. Some of our favorites:
How did we not know about this? Henceforth this blog will refer to Jeffrey Loria and Samson as Big Stein Jr. and Lil' Napoleon.
During his short-lived, tumultuous stint as an executive with the now-defunct Montreal Expos, his brash style earned Samson a nickname: Little Napoleon.
Not gonna lie, I love that. Athletes can handle trash talk - they hear it all the time. Owners and GMs, however, rarely get it, so any heckling they receive is more likely to be noticed and or hurt them. Samson got GREAT value for his heckling.
He grew up in New York a fierce Knicks fan. While other fans might razz the point guard, Samson would heckle the general manager or owner — always from seats close to the floor.
That quote will stand out to many, but that is far from unique among professional schools. Anyone who's been to law school or business school (or grad programs in humanities and social sciences) has a few former classmates who could pull the same trick, barely preparing but still standing out in discussions by virtue of some forcefully-articulated opinions. They are often universally resented. No shocker to me that Samson was one of these dudes.
"I can tell you that David did not come to class prepared all that often," said Cardozo [Yeshiva Law School] professor David Rudenstine, who had Samson in his Federal Courts class some two decades ago. "But David would have strong, well-informed opinions. It was always a marvel to me that he could strike me as someone who was skating on top of the material, but had very precise and perceptive opinions."
Claude Raymond: Too awesome for words.
At the end of each season in Montreal, the Expos would stage a ballgame for staff, the radio host said. Former pro pitcher Claude Raymond — an icon still in Montreal — would take the mound for both sides. One year, Samson came down to the field, grabbed a bat, and dug in, his tie flung over a shoulder.
"Raymond threw one right at him," Melnick said. "He drilled the Expos' president."
Afterward, Melnick insists, the pitcher was "treated like a hero by most of the office staff."