Connect with us

Uncategorized

Jerry Izenberg covered 53 Super Bowls. His memoir covers his Jewish Newark upbringing.

(JTA) — Over the course of an illustrious 72-year career as a newspaper reporter, Jerry Izenberg has just about seen it all.

The longtime columnist for The Star-Ledger in Newark, New Jersey, Izenberg covered the first 53 Super Bowls. He’s been to 58 Kentucky Derbies, not to mention numerous Olympics, World Cups and boxing matches. He considered Muhammad Ali a close personal friend.

But the fiery 92-year-old, who still contributes to the paper as a columnist emeritus from his home in Nevada, doesn’t approve of the term “journalist.” He’s a newspaperman.

He dropped the name of Samuel Pepys, the 17th-century British diarist, as a contrast.

“Every day he took his big diary, and he wrote what he did this day, what he was planning to do later — that’s a journalist,” Izenberg told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “I’m not in my world. I’m in the world of other people trying to interpret and to repeat what values they have or what lack thereof they have.”

Izenberg’s latest story breaks that rule. His 17th book, which hits shelves on Monday, is a memoir about his Jewish upbringing in Newark. Titled “Baseball, Nazis, and Nedick’s Hot Dogs: Growing Up Jewish in the 1930s in Newark,” the memoir centers on Izenberg’s relationship with his father Harry, a World War I veteran and former minor league baseball player who passed on his love of the sport to his son.

Izenberg’s father emigrated to the United States as a child, leaving Lithuania with his family to escape anti-Jewish pogroms. As his sportswriter son recounts it, Harry discovered baseball even before he could speak English.

The Izenbergs’ love of baseball transcended all. When Jerry got his first baseball glove at ten years old, it was a milestone that in his father’s eyes surpassed even his bar mitzvah. (Maybe unsurprisingly, Izenberg would later skip bar mitzvah tutoring to play baseball after school.)

“He had given me a lifetime gift — a simple game and a simple shared love for it,” Izenberg writes in the memoir. “It remains there, bright and shining in memory eighty-three years later. In the soul of my memory, I see our kind of shared love of baseball again. It never fades.”

Jerry Izenberg and his father Harry shared a bond over baseball. (Book cover courtesy of The Sager Group, LLC; photograph courtesy of Jerry Izenberg)

The pair’s passion for baseball was closely intertwined with their Judaism. Growing up in Newark in the 1930s and 40s, Izenberg was a fan of the New York Giants baseball team (which left for San Francisco after the 1957 season). They featured a lineup filled with Jewish players: Harry Danning, Harry Feldman and Sid Gordon.

But in the pantheon of Jewish baseball during Izenberg’s childhood, there was a clear king, and — much to the chagrin of Izenberg’s father — he played in Detroit. Hank Greenberg, the greatest Jewish hitter in baseball history, was at the peak of his Tigers career from 1935-1940, winning two most valuable player awards on his way to the Hall of Fame.

At the Izenbergs’ dinner table, there were only a few select topics that were allowed to be discussed: baseball and the Nazis.

In 1938, Greenberg was chasing all-time great Babe Ruth’s single-season record of 60 home runs, which Ruth had set in 1927 with the Yankees. Greenberg would ultimately reach 58 homers, falling just short of history, while drawing several walks in the season’s final games.

“My dad was convinced that was antisemitism,” Izenberg said. “And I said to him, later on when I got into the business and I knew people, ‘did it ever occur to you that the guys who pitched against him didn’t want to be the guy who threw his 60th home run ball? They’d be linked to him forever.’ My father said, ‘That’s an interesting theory, but you’re full of crap.’”

Of all the anecdotes Izenberg shares of his memories with his father, one non-sports related scene stands out. And it has to do with that second dinner table topic.

One Saturday in 1939, Izenberg and his father went to the Newsreel Theatre in Newark, where audiences gathered to watch news and sports highlights of the week. That day, the theater showed footage of the infamous Madison Square Garden rally held by the German-American Bund, the American Nazi organization.

Izenberg remembers leaving the theater with his father, who was visibly angry. His father talked about how the Nazis — or, as he called them, mamzers, Yiddish slang for “bastards” — had to be stopped.

“I’m an 8-year-old kid, and I say, ‘But dad, they’re in Germany,’” Izenberg recalled. “And he looks at me, he says, ‘They’re not in Germany, they’re here.’ And he was right.” Indeed, following Hitler’s rise to power, Nazi-sympathizers could be seen marching down Newark’s streets.

The move theater incident is illustrated on the book’s cover — and was followed by a frequent father-son ritual: getting hot dogs at the popular chain Nedick’s.

To Izenberg, the virulent antisemitism of his youth — including the Bund, the reemergence of the Ku Klux Klan and the rise of Father Charles Coughlin, the antisemitic “radio priest” — is a corollary for the current state of antisemitism, which is again on the rise in the United States, punctuated, he said, by the 2017 antisemitic white nationalist rally in Charlottesville, which he blames on former President Donald Trump.

Izenberg said he doesn’t believe any law can force people to love or even like one another, but that “you could legislate people and pressure people into keeping their damn mouth shut.”

He went on: “And for 30 years, we had that. We got relief from antisemitism… And then one day in Charlottesville, that son of a bitch gave them the license to say whatever they want. And that was a trigger that lit the flame of antisemitism, which then began to grow all at once. It was always in their minds. But it was not fashionable. They made it fashionable.”

Despite the anti-Jewish sentiment that was ever-present in his youth, Izenberg said he has not faced antisemitism in his journalism career. As a columnist who has covered just about every sport, Izenberg has received his fair share of criticism — most notably having his car windows smashed by two men who did not approve of Izenberg’s defense of Muhammad Ali, when at the height of his career the boxer stirred controversy with his support for the Nation of Islam and his refusal to enlist in the military.

Jerry Izenberg, right, and boxer Muhammad Ali were close personal friends. (The Private Collection of Jerry Izenberg)

Izenberg has written about social issues frequently throughout his career — especially race relations — a tendency that he said is inspired by the value of “tikkun olam,” or repairing the world. It’s an idea he learned from Rabbi Joachim Prinz, the famous activist leader who spoke just before Martin Luther King Jr. at the 1963 March on Washington.

After leaving Nazi Germany, Prinz settled in Newark, on the same block as the Izenbergs. He would become a close family friend, and even offered to help Izenberg prepare for his bar mitzvah, despite the fact that his family belonged to a different synagogue.

Izenberg said he is guided by tikkun olam, “because I know [Prinz would] want me to keep it in the back of my mind, and my father would, too.”

“I’ve always tried not to fix the world — I don’t overrate myself that much — but I could fix the little part of it, the space that I take up,” he added. “And my job was a pathway to that.”

Izenberg’s decades-long career in sports journalism has earned him numerous accolades, including induction into 17 different halls of fame, among them the International Jewish Sports Hall of Fame and the National Sportscasters and Sportswriters Association Hall of Fame.

Along the way, he’s worked with and alongside a number of notable journalists, including ESPN reporter Jeremy Schaap, who previously hosted “Classic Sports Reporters,” for which he invited veteran sportswriters like Izenberg on the show to discuss various topics from sports history.

“For someone like me who really treasures that art form, Jerry was one of its master practitioners, and he’s still doing it, which is amazing,” Schaap told JTA.

Schaap hailed the breadth of Izenberg’s career, which he said epitomized the kind of big-city sports columnist that has become increasingly rare in the digital age.

“He’s a maniac, there’s no other way to put it,” Schaap said with a laugh. “All those Super Bowls, all those fights… the energy, the enthusiasm, the passion, all those things, in addition to the skills, makes him unique and has made him unique for decades.”

Schaap added that he and Izenberg shared a sort of unspoken bond over their Jewishness, and that Izenberg has taught Schaap a few Yiddishisms over the years. Izenberg’s tendency to slip Yiddish into his prose is evident in the memoir, from a comical retelling of his bris in the prologue to the frequent frustrated “genug” (“enough”) he heard from his mother as a child.

Ultimately, Izenberg said his parents represent the tachlis — the bottom line — of the memoir, and what he hopes readers take away from it. Izenberg said writing the memoir was cathartic for him, and that it even serves as a sort of love letter to his father.

“We were not, you know, ‘I love you dad,’” Izenberg said. “We were very respectful, but we didn’t express it. I tried to express it in this book. I hope I did.”

The release of Izenberg’s memoir is in no way a sign that the nonagenarian is slowing down. Even though he claims he works less than he used to, Izenberg said he plans to write six columns about next weekend’s Kentucky Derby.

He already has plans for his next few books, too — including a biography of New Jersey’s own Larry Doby, who was the second Black player in the MLB and first in the American League.

“I’ve had a great life, and I’m having a great life, but I ain’t done yet,” Izenberg said.


The post Jerry Izenberg covered 53 Super Bowls. His memoir covers his Jewish Newark upbringing. appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Viktor Orbán may fall. Netanyahu should be next

At first glance, Hungary may seem like a small central European country with limited relevance to Israel. But political trends can cross borders, and a shift in one society might herald something broader.

The defeat that polls are predicting for Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, a towering icon of the global populist right, could spell trouble for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu as well.

For 16 years, Orbán has been widely seen as the most successful architect — indeed the prophet — of illiberal democracy, devising a system that preserves elections but systematically tilts the playing field, turning a country’s leader into a seemingly elected authoritarian.

Since returning to power in 2010 — like Netanyahu, Orbán also served a term starting in the 1990s — Orbán’s party, Fidesz, has rewritten constitutional rules, weakened the judiciary, neutered institutional checks, cultivated a loyal media ecosystem, and fused political power with economic patronage.

Orbán has also pumped out an obsessive narrative whereby the Hungarian nation is in danger from progressives, cosmopolitan Europeans, migrants and Muslims — dangers that, naturally, only Orbán can see clearly and fight well. The meta-narrative, bizarre in currently peaceful Europe, is one of constant crisis, of nerves ever on edge.

And it has worked wonders, yielding something that looks like democracy while functioning as autocracy.

Until now.

If Orbán loses this weekend’s election, his defeat will send a message across the world and particularly to Israel, where Netanyahu has carefully followed his model.

Populist systems thrive on polarization. They convert politics into a series of existential battles — identity, culture, survival. In such an environment, challengers who attempt to outbid the populist in ideological intensity often fail. They reinforce the terrain on which the incumbent is strongest.

Orbán’s defeat would show that what can prove more effective is something quieter: a shift away from ideological maximalism toward questions of competence, propriety and everyday governance.

An almost-perfect system

When perfected, the opposition in the kind of system Orbán pioneered has an almost impossible time returning to power. Admirers around the world have looked to Hungary not for its economic model or foreign policy, but for a blueprint for how a modern elected leader can entrench himself so deeply that removal through the ballot box becomes nearly impossible.

For years, Orbán’s system appeared invincible. He was reelected in 2014, 2018, and even in 2022, amid inflation and economic strain, and facing a rare unified opposition. He succeeded in amplifying a narrow majority in the last election into almost a two-thirds majority in parliament through districting and electoral “reforms” which he had put in place during his previous terms.

The lesson drawn by many observers — supporters and critics alike — was that once entrenched, such leaders do not lose, since the system becomes self-reinforcing. But now that certainty has begun to fray.

Israelis will recognize the contours of that story.

Over the past decade or so, as Netanyahu began to face serious legal trouble that has since landed him in court on bribery and other charges, his mania for holding on to power went into overdrive — and he adopted the Orbán playbook with precision.

Israelis have witnessed sustained attacks on the judiciary; efforts to restructure the balance of power; the delegitimization of legal and media institutions; and a politics increasingly organized around permanent cultural and existential conflict. During the last vote, in 2022, Netanyahu largely hid his intention to drag the country in this direction; should he win again, this will be interpreted as a mandate. The “Orbánization” will go into overdrive.

Israel has not yet become Hungary: its institutions remain more pluralistic, its media more combative, its political system more fragmented. But the direction of travel is clear.

How the system fails

In early 2024, a controversial Orbán-engineered presidential pardon — linked to a figure associated with a child abuse case — punctured his carefully cultivated image of moral authority and care for traditional values. It was simply, for many, too much.

Into that breach stepped challenger Peter Magyar, who is not a traditional opposition figure, which is a key point. Magyar comes not from Hungary’s fragmented liberal camp, but rather from within Orbán’s own orbit. A former insider of Orbán’s Fidesz party, Magyar understands the machinery. His political movement, the Tisza Party, rose with remarkable speed, transforming into a credible electoral force within months. It currently has a growing lead in the polls.

Perhaps the most important aspect of Magyar’s rise is how he has campaigned. Previous Hungarian opposition efforts focused heavily on abstract democratic principles, including rule of law, institutional checks and media freedom. These are vital issues. But against Orbán’s emotionally charged narratives or sovereignty and national survival, they failed to mobilize a broad electorate.

Magyar instead has traveled extensively, visiting hundreds of towns and villages, engaging with practical grievances: failing public services, rising costs and bureaucratic dysfunction. The implication is that Orbán has hubristically lost touch. Magyar’s message has been almost technocratic in tone: He wants, he says, to make the state function again for ordinary citizens with regular concerns.

If Orbán were to lose, it would be, in effect, because Magyar is a centrist with practical, citizen-focused ideas — sidestepping entirely the identity issues that Orbán peddles.

The lesson for Israel

Magyar cannot easily be dismissed as alien or threatening by Orbán’s base. For Israelis contemplating a post-Netanyahu future, this is instructive.

For years, one of Netanyahu’s greatest political strengths has been his ability to frame opponents as fundamentally “other” — as disconnected from national priorities, or as representatives of a different, even suspect, ideological camp. A challenger who reframes the conversation — toward competence, integrity and the basic functioning of the state — may find a different kind of opening.

Hungary and Israel are not the same; the dangers Netanyahu weaponizes politically are vastly more acute. But he and Orbán represent something that has been widespread around the world: a rebellion against the establishment, and a message that says an elected government can do close to anything it wants in the name of “the people.”

It is a proposition that exists at the most vulgar democratic baseline: that of majority rule. It cares little for the niceties of liberal democracy: checks and balances, rule of law, minority rights, equality under the law, guaranteed protections and individual freedoms.

Orbán’s genius, eagerly embraced and copied by Netanyahu, has been to convince enough people that majority rule is basically all that matters. Majority rule is critical when one is attacking the establishment, the elites, the intellectuals, the journalists, the professors, the experts, and the judges who preside at one’s trial.

If Orbán loses on Sunday, it could bode ill for Netanyahu in the Israeli election that must be held by October, and good for a world that desperately needs to return to a more nuanced understanding of how government is supposed to work. It would suggest that the fever that sustains Orbán and Netanyahu alike has started to break.

The post Viktor Orbán may fall. Netanyahu should be next appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Hungary is poised to topple an authoritarian leader. American Jews have something to learn

An aspiring authoritarian, who has spent more than a decade shaping his country through a political project of popularist grievance and personal enrichment, may soon meet his electoral end.

That elected leader is not President Donald Trump, but Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, who has ruled Hungary consecutively since 2010 (and who previously served as prime minister between 1998 and 2002). Hungarians will go to the polls on April 12, and Orbán’s Fidesz party is polling well behind the conservative, pro-European Tisza. That Trump, who is closely allied with Orbán, this week dispatched Vice President JD Vance to Budapest to campaign for Orbán may not be enough. (While there, Vance baselessly claimed EU interference in Hungary’s elections, turning back to the same old Trump playbook.)

There is much that Americans can learn from the Hungarian experience of years spent under the governance of someone accused of dismantling rule of law, a person whose inner circle has grown rich during his time in office. But American Jews in particular should pay attention. Because Orbán’s administration has used antisemitism as a political tool throughout his time in power, and is desperately turning to this hatred once again on its way, possibly, out the electoral door.

Examining the different purposes for which Orbán has employed antisemitism is instructive. The essential lesson: Antisemitism deployed by powerful people is often an attempt to evade accountability for their own bad actions.

The Orbán administration has tried to rewrite history so as to paint Hungary as a perpetual victim or victor — never a country responsible for misdeeds like, say, allying with Nazi Germany prior to being occupied by it. Orbán, like other politicians interested in historical revisionism, has tried to make adherence to his specific retelling of Hungarian history synonymous with being a true Hungarian. Anyone who challenges his vision is, in it, an enemy of the state.

For no one has that been more true than Hungarian-born Jewish billionaire philanthropist George Soros. In past elections, Orbán has inflated Soros to the status of a political adversary, campaigning against a spectral version of him instead of his actual political opponents. This approach, rife with antisemitic dog whistles, has been alarmingly effective.

“We are fighting an enemy that is different from us. Not open, but hiding; not straightforward but crafty; not honest but base; not national but international; does not believe in working but speculates with money; does not have its own homeland but feels it owns the whole world,” he said of Soros in the 2018 campaign, invoking any number of longstanding antisemitic tropes.

When Orbán’s authoritarian efforts extended to cracking down on liberal institutions and civil society, he turned again to antisemitism in the form of Soros conspiracy theories.

Under attack by Orbán, Central European University, the university that Soros founded, has mostly been pushed out of its original home of Budapest. When the Hungarian government passed legislation to criminalize helping those who wanted to claim asylum in the country, it was called “Stop Soros” legislation. NGOs in Hungary have long been smeared for receiving money from Soros’ Open Society Foundations, accused of being proxies through which Soros is “targeting” Hungary.

Recently, Orbán has pivoted, making Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy the new scapegoat of his antisemitic conspiracy theories.

He has charged that support for Ukraine is expensive and even dangerous, and pushed the idea that Orbán and Fidesz are all that prevents such support from leading Hungary to disaster. Orbán and Fidesz have erected billboards showing Zelenskyy smirking with an outstretched hand, in a pose reminiscent of the antisemitic “happy merchant” meme. Perhaps most tellingly and menacingly, Fidesz has put up posters with Zelenskyy’s face, blazoned with nearly the same words that, almost a decade ago, accompanied campaign posters with Soros’s visage on them: “Let’s not let Zelenskyy have the last laugh.”

As Hungarians are asking what, exactly, the last decade and a half of autocracy have accomplished for them, their governing party appears to be suggesting that it is the only thing standing between them and the machinations of a nefarious Jew. Antisemitism can be many things, but in Hungary, again and again, it has been an attempt to trick citizens out of asking what good Orbán’s government has done for them.

This playbook has clear resonances in that deployed by Trump.

When threatened, Trump and his allies repeatedly turn to blaming Soros. They have used the idea of Soros as a sort of universal bogeyman to try to explain away Trump’s felony charges and to justify violence against citizens protesting ICE. The Department of Justice has tried to find ways to push for prosecutions of Soros and his allies, on far-fetched charges possibly including material support of terrorism.

What Orbán and Trump have both bet on is that dog whistling about all-powerful Jews will distract enough voters from noticing while they help themselves to their country’s rights and riches. If Orbán is defeated on Sunday, his loss will send an essential message to Americans: that strategy can only sustain a leader for so long.

Flailing about and sowing the seeds of antisemitic conspiracies cannot change the stubborn fact that neither Soros nor Zelenskyy is in charge in Hungary: Orbán is. Hungarians seem to see, now, that all that talk about Soros didn’t make their lives any better. Neither will going after Zelenskyy.

We can hope Hungarians remember that as they go to the polls. We, American Jews, should remind others, and ourselves, of it here, too. We often focus on trying to communicate that antisemitism is hateful and unfair toward American Jews. Perhaps, in addition, we should try to point out that Trump’s antisemitism, like Orbán’s, is not only hateful, but a hateful deflection.

The post Hungary is poised to topple an authoritarian leader. American Jews have something to learn appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Israel Expels Spain From US-Backed Gaza Coordination Center as Diplomatic Rift Deepens

Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez speaks during a press conference after attending a special summit of European Union leaders to discuss transatlantic relations, in Brussels, Belgium, Jan. 23, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Yves Herman

Israel has expelled Spain from the United States’ Civil-Military Coordination Center (CMCC) in Kiryat Gat, a hub established to coordinate humanitarian operations in the Gaza Strip, marking a sharp escalation in an already deteriorating diplomatic rift between the two countries.

On Friday, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu announced Spain’s expulsion from the CMCC, framing the move as a response to Madrid’s increasingly anti-Israel stance and what he described as continued hostility toward the Jewish state.

“Spain has defamed our heroes, the soldiers of the [Israel Defense Forces], the soldiers of the most moral army in the world,” Netanyahu said during a press conference. “Anyone who attacks the State of Israel instead of the terrorist regimes … will not be our partner in the future of the region.” 

“I am not willing to tolerate this hypocrisy and this hostility,” the Israeli leader continued. “I do not intend to allow any country to wage a diplomatic war against us without paying an immediate price for it.”

In a press release, Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Saar confirmed that the United States had been informed ahead of time, adding that the decision followed Spain’s serious harm to the interests of both Jerusalem and Washington.

The Spanish government has also been informed of the decision, though it has yet to issue any public statement or official response.

“Spain’s obsessive anti-Israel bias under [Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez]’s leadership is so egregious that it has lost all capability to serve a constructive role in implementing US President Donald Trump’s peace plan and the center operating under it,” the top Israeli diplomat wrote in a post on X. 

Established in October 2025 as part of US Central Command, the CMCC was set up to coordinate and manage the flow of humanitarian, logistical, and security assistance from the international community into Gaza under Trump’s peace plan for the enclave.

Since the start of the war in Gaza, and increasingly amid the war with Iran and broader regional escalation, Spain has launched a fierce anti-Israel campaign aimed at undermining and isolating the Jewish state on the international stage.

Earlier this week, Sánchez publicly condemned Israeli strikes in Lebanon and the widening regional escalation tied to the Iran conflict, renewing calls for the European Union to suspend its association agreement with Israel and urging an end to “impunity for [Israel’s] criminal actions.”

The Spanish leader also accused Netanyahu of breaching basic humanitarian norms, saying his “contempt for life and international law is intolerable.”

Spanish Foreign Minister José Manuel Albares has also publicly condemned Israel’s military campaign, describing the conflict as “the greatest assault on the civilization built upon the humanist ideals of reason, peace, understanding, and universal law over the abuse of power, brute force, and arbitrariness.”

In a phone call with his Spanish counterpart on Friday, Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi praised Spain’s “principled and honorable” stance on what he called “US-Israeli aggression against Iran,” urging countries to take a firmer stand against what he described as war crimes.

“Spain’s valuable stances in defending international law and human values ​​have been noted and praised by the Iranian nation and the international community, and will never be forgotten,” the top Iranian diplomat said. 

Even though Spain welcomed the recently announced US–Iran ceasefire, Albares said, “Madrid will not applaud those who set the world on fire just because they show up with a bucket to put out that fire.”

As part of its broader anti-Israel campaign, Spain had recently closed its airspace to aircraft involved in what officials described as a “reckless and illegal confrontation” – another move welcomed by Iran’s Islamist government.

In one of its most controversial recent moves, Madrid also announced this weej the reopening of its embassy in Tehran.

According to data from Spain’s Ministry of Trade reported by Servimedia, the Spanish government exported more than €1.3 million worth of dual-use materials to Iran in 2024 and the first half of 2025, including explosive components, laboratory reagents, and specialized control software.

Continue Reading

Copyright © 2017 - 2023 Jewish Post & News