FOR THE RECORD

FOR THE RECORD

We're not normally inclined to take issue with the monthly Patrolmen's Benevolent Association ads that question the fairness of our coverage, but one portion of last week's is so misleading that it warrants a reply.

The union's ad questions our assertion that the PBA "has been outmaneuvered by the city" in the current round of bargaining by being forced to buck an existing contract pattern for other uniformed unions, most notably the Uniformed Firefighters Association. As proof that this is not an insurmountable hurdle, it claims its last arbitration deal "left egg on the faces of all those who 'promised' that the PBA would not do any better" than a pattern previously set by District Council 37.

The ad conveniently sets the barrier low: through the 40-year history of formal collective bargaining, it has been rare that the PBA has not done at least slightly better than DC 37. The most misleading part of the union ad, though, is its assertion that the 2005 PBA contract award "was valued for each active officer at a full 7% better than the [DC 37] pattern."

Technically, this is true, since the PBA award granted two 5-percent raises over a period when DC 37 members got just a 3-percent raise in base salary, preceded by a $1,000 bonus.

The key phrase in that PBA claim is "each active officer." What it doesn't mention is what happened to those who hadn't yet been hired but have come on the job over the past 20 months. As part of the award, the union had to consent to reductions in starting salary and the pay scale that currently stand to cost each of those newer cops $48,000 during their first six years on the job. In comparison, a less-severe stretch of the pay scale agreed to by DC 37 during that period cost its new members an average of $6,900.

And so any assertion that the PBA beat the pattern revolves around the fact that it skewered its unborn for the benefit of incumbents. Was the generous pay raise for active officers worth the hosing future hires got?

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The death of former Yankee shortstop and announcer Phil Rizzuto Aug. 13 provoked a remarkable wave of tributes from those who saw him play or, more often, were entertained by a broadcaster who was distinctly not a journalist, sprinkled his accounts with unabashed rooting for his old team and frequent digressions into non-baseball matters, made early exits to beat the Yankee Stadium traffic to the George Washington Bridge, and used phrases that became part of the language of the city.

We remember a game perhaps 35 years ago against the Red Sox that was scoreless entering the bottom of the ninth when Yankee first-baseman Danny Cater stepped to the plate. Mr. Rizzuto's play-by-play was something like this: "There's a line drive to deep left. If it's fair, that's trouble. It's - STAY FAIR!"

Mr. Cater's shot struck the foul pole for a game-ending home run.

In 1983, we were driving home from upstate on the 4th of July, listening to the radio broadcast of Bill White and Frank Messer as Dave Righetti held the Red Sox hitless.

In the eighth inning, Mr. Messer, abiding by the baseball superstition that it's bad luck to actually mention a possible no-hitter, gave listeners a roundabout idea of what was transpiring by noting that normally the Yankees' 6-0 lead at that point would have fans swarming toward the exits to avoid traffic after the game. Instead, he declared, "I don't think a single soul has left Yankee Stadium."

To which Mr. White interjected, "Maybe one."

And finally, from 12th-grade English class at Sheepshead Bay High School in 1971: Elise Morgan, the school's reigning political activist, who a year later at 18 helped coordinate George McGovern's New York campaign for President, was wrestling with whether "Huckleberry Finn" was racist.

After her third or fourth, "on the one hand, Huckleberry this, on the other, Huckleberry that," she suddenly slapped herself in the face and said, "Omigod, I sound like Phil Rizzuto."

As the Scooter might have replied, "Holy cow, who woulda figured her for a Yankee fan?"