LA Times media columnist Tim Rutten castigated the sports journalists of America over the weekend for not covering "the transformation of baseball clubhouses into the plush equivalent of crack houses." Then he went on to recount a blind item about a "very veteran National Hockey League defenseman," who told him decades ago that "If I were a racehorse, they'd never let me on the track." Well, that's the first time that quote appears on Nexis, so we're gonna assume that either Mr. Rutten was writing for the Podunk Weekly or that he also turned a blind eye to sports doping. [LAT]

"Major magazine looking for an assistant to supporting their Director of Public Relations," reads this Craigslist ad, posted this afternoon. The position, which is either a "fantastic opportunity" or an "excellent opportunity" (Perhaps both excellent and fantastic! Probably neither!) entails working "side-by-side with some of the top industry professionals in PR and publishing." Also it's a six-month contract job, because God forbid anyone hire anyone ever. This "major" magazine has offices in both L.A. and New York, which narrows it down to quite few. Could Vanity Fair's Beth Kseniak be hiring? (Maybe if you get the job she'll let you clean up the parking lot after the Oscar party!) Vogue, W, and Details are also possibilities. It's Friday afternoon and we got nothing—any ideas?

The Times "City Room" post on the "fraught world of the personal assistant" has turned into a commenter blind item party full of hilarious tales of terrible mistreatment from potentially murderous former PAs. Won't you help us identify a couple of the assistees?

Which hipster-nightlife photographer totally named Merlin Bronques threw a major hissy fit in front of the elevators at the incredibly boring Shindig party last night? "What the fuck is your problem," he shrieked, violently jabbing the 'down' button. "I told you to hold the fucking door for me!" Dude. It's just Halloween. ("Last Night's Party is so not even cool anymore," muttered a girl in the elevator. Harsh!)

It's apparently been the best-kept secret in town that Chris Jones, the managing editor of Portfolio.com, gave notice a full month ago—the staff were supposedly only told yesterday. And now, says WWD: "high-level discussion is said to be under way about divesting [Portfolio editor Joanne] Lipman of oversight of the Web site, with a possible new reporting structure to Portfolio.com's general manager, Ari Brandt, on the business side. (Like Jones, Brandt came from Yahoo!, where such reporting structures are in place.)" Well sure—we hear that meetings with Lipman can be so trying that people stomp out of the building for a breath of fresh air afterward. Plus! Bonus blind item for ya! What Portfolio editorial employee was spotted hanging around outside an old boss's office last week, eagerly waiting for a chance to talk privately?

We're still obsessing over that Ben Widdicombe blind item: "Which very senior Manhattan media executive looks like he might be about to go public with that office affair everyone has been talking about?" You know what we keep forgetting about? Conde Nast CEO Charles Townsend is in divorce proceedings in a Miami-Dade court. The Herald doesn't list a cause for the filing. He used to work with his wife at Family Circle! (Also we forget that he's a commodore of New York Yacht Club! Bwa.) Now that is something even less than circumstantial evidence if we've ever seen it. But don't men always make the same mistake twice? [Miami Herald]

Very slight forward movement on a recent blind item: Remember gossipboy Ben Widdicombe's "Which very senior Manhattan media executive looks like he might be about to go public with that office affair everyone has been talking about?" Well, think Conde Nast. That's as far as we've gotten—but we're not letting this one go.

"I need help not blowing this exciting opportunity, please. i do not know how to amass the team of people I need to make the most of my fame potential. An upcoming event in my life is going to be splashed across the news nation and perhaps world wide.... I want a publicist and a manager who specializes in making a somebody out of nobody with something to offer—in terms of personal branding, think Lauren Conrad from 'The Hills' meets Ann Coulter meets Suze Orman." [Ask Mefi]

Guy #1: Man, I don't know what to do! I can't get rid of my crazy ex! We've been broken up for almost a year now and I told her, 'I don't want to see you or speak to you any more,' and she said, 'I'm going to make your life miserable.' Then she had the audacity to send my current girlfriend a message on Facebook saying, 'We need to talk' and asked my current girlfriend to call her. Then, a few weeks later, she shows up at my office. And just this week she send me a text saying, 'I know we're not speaking, but do you want to come out to dinner with me and meet my mom?' What do I do?!
Guy #2: Oh my god, restraining order?!
Guy #1: And the sad part is that she has a dating column!
Guy #2: You mean she is giving other people dating advice?
Guy #1: Yup. [Overheard In New York]

Last week, we posted a memo that the Times sent around to staff outlining its latest diversity initiatives, including the establishment of a "Diversity Advisory Council." Note, however, that diversity at the Times, for all intents and purposes, means racial and gender diversity; even though there are a bunch of "affinity groups" where gays, lesbians, and whoever else can have a kaffeeklatsch, the gays aren't ever included in the diversity calculations. (God forbid the liberals should count the gays like they do the blacks!) Which makes the email we got after we posted the item all the more fascinating.

It was said that in order to host a book party last night, the painter Gray Foy had to remove approximately 700 objets from the sprawling apartment on the sixth floor of the Osborne, on West 57th Street, that he had shared for 27 years with the longtime Condé Nast writer and editor Leo Lerman, who died in 1994. Yet every conceivable surface—tables, shelves, walls—was covered with trinkets and statuettes, photographs and paintings and drawings, candelabras and candlesticks, miniature fake pastries arranged around a samovar, Tiffany lamps, framed butterflies and other insects, books, "good Russian silverware," gnomes, decorative boxes, and in one of the three bedrooms, a now-empty hornet's nest, hanging delicately on the corner of a large mirror.

Last week, we wondered at the paranoid startup entrepreneur who didn't want anything — not his name, not his company's name, or any other identifying info — mentioned in a Mercury News piece on Battery Ventures' Roger Lee. No one stepped up to the plate, so we'll make our own guess-hay. And we're looking at young Alastair Rampell of Trialpay.

In the Merc article, all we know about the mystery man is that he is 25 years old and has close-cropped hair. His company is six months old, has an office in downtown Mountain View, and has in fact taken money from Battery Ventures.

As you can see from the photo above (or from this one), Rampell certainly favors the close-cropped hair. Rampell is listed as being 19 years old in this September 2000 article in BusinessWeek, which would put him at or about the right age. Trialpay went beta in July 2006 (making it about six months old, in those terms) and is indeed located in Mountain View. And TrialPay got $3.1 million from Battery Ventures in December.

A circumstantial case, but a case nonetheless. Got a better clue? Say so.

In this week's "Executive Pursuits" Times biz column, 55-year-old Harry Hurt III becomes a ballerina. His teacher? "Sex and the City"-scribe Candace Bushnell's husband, for some reason! And apparently, a lot of people—a lot of famous, important people—made fun of the Hurtmeister when he told them he was going to learn ballet for his latest stunt.

In this Mercury News profile of Battery Ventures' Roger Lee, we get this amusing tidbit:

Since interest continues to percolate regarding the anonymous billionaire discussed in Michael Wolff's (no, not that Michael Wolf) Vanity Fair article, here's another round of guesses. When last discussed, we declared a toss-up between Mark Cuban and Barry Diller. Remember, the two key hints are "appropriately larger-than-life character, remarkably fit" and "he knew nothing whatsoever about the newspaper business, or news." After the jump, a few more names get dumped into the mix.

We asked for your guesses as to the identity of the mystery billionaire mentioned in Michael Wolff's Vanity Fair article, and you adroitly caught on to the resonant void of the name(s) we didn't float ourselves. The key bits of trivia were "appropriately larger-than-life character, remarkably fit" and "he knew nothing whatsoever about the newspaper business, or news. Zip. Nada." Aside from unlikelies such as Warren Buffett and Edgar Bronfman Jr., the most cogent guesses after the jump.

In Vanity Fair, Michael Wolff pokes around for reasons to explain the surge of interest among rich folk for buying media (though he ignores the copious free tail factor). The article begins and ends with Wolff enjoying an "off-the-record visit" with an anonymous billionaire who fits the bill. A few details make their way into the prose, since Wolff doesn't really want to keep the guy's name secret; where's the Media Titan cachet in that? So let's examine the billionaire tidbits:

Stephen Dubner, co-author of Freakonomics, has a question for you, prompted by a recent dinner at the midtown Benihana. Who is Celebrity X?

We just have to drop our know-it-all facade here for a second and admit that we were probs totally wrong about the slant of David Patrick Columbia's Tinz Mortimer,31 literary allusion the other day. We don't actually know anything about rich people who go to parties for a living. But he sure does! And today he's got another blind item. We have to say, we really appreciate this man's blind item steez. No tacky Ted Casablancas "Toothy Tile"-ish nicknames, no Post-y "WHICH young blonde recently divorced popstar" unsubtlety. No, DPC is mad subtle. So subtle, in fact, that we have nooooo fucking clue what he's talking about:

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