November 24, 2005

Murray Chass On Baseball column discusses Florida Marlins manager Joe Girardi, who says he knew team would be making trades during offseason, denying reports that he is annoyed at departures of Carlos Delgado, Josh Beckett and Mike Lowell (M)

YOU probably didn't notice, what with all the excitement about the return of ''Project Runway,'' the release of a survey by a marketing company last week noting that Donald J. Trump had beat out Giorgio Armani and Donna Karan as one of the most trusted fashion names in America. That's right: Donald Trump, the real estate mogul, television star, hair aesthete and confessed ''germ freak.'' Even the editors of Women's Wear Daily seemed to be in a state of disbelief, since their report of the news was buried on the inside. It couldn't be true. Mr. Armani has worked his fingers to the bone to be a world-renowned designer; spent a fortune advancing the idea too. And what about Valentino, Karl Lagerfeld, Stella McCartney and those boys -- what are their names? -- Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana? They don't even make the list. Shut out of America. Ignored. Trumped. It's true.

This past summer, members of a Manhattan law firm went on a field trip to Danbury, Conn., where they spent an entire day at a range without swinging bats or golf clubs. The members of Kobre & Kim LLP were there not to hit and hack, but to lock and load, and to experience the thrill of firing pistols, rifles and even submachine guns. ''We do very aggressive litigation and trial work,'' said Michael Kim, a partner in the firm. ''So we prefer an activity that dovetails nicely with that aggressive culture, and hitting a little white ball on the greens doesn't do much for us.''

Decisions, decisions. The clock is ticking for millions of elderly and disabled people, who must decide whether and when to enroll in one of the new Medicare Part D drug plans that start Jan. 1, 2006. The Part D program, named for its place within the written Medicare law, for the first time brings drugs under the Medicare tent, which covers 42 million people. It has been widely portrayed as hopelessly confusing.

When Manfred Wennemer talks about the American auto industry these days, he sounds like a driver thankful to have survived a nasty pileup with a few scratches. His German auto parts maker, Continental, has avoided most of the jolts that have rattled its American counterparts. While Delphi and its biggest customer, General Motors, are struggling to stave off financial problems, Continental's profits are surging and its stock is hitting record highs.