Many years ago, at a time when I wondered if my career had ended before it began, a helpful stranger dragged me back into the business and nudged me toward a job interview based solely on two second-hand references and one kind heart. That heart belonged — belongs — to Lenn Robbins, whose last day at The Post is Tuesday and whose friendship will be cherished long after he closes the door on a hell of a 16-year-run. Godspeed, pally. The next home-field Heineken is on me.
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I think it’s pretty clear by now that Bobby Valentine (below) is either one of the dumbest smart guys you’ll ever meet or one of the smartest dumb guys.
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Not so long ago, WFAN billed itself as “Your radio home of the Mets … Jets … Knicks … Rangers … and St. John’s.” The world is upside-down, my friends.
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I was afraid my poor overworked DVR was going to get confused last Sunday and wind up spitting out an episode of “Breaking Boardwalk Newsroom Donovan.”