What are we talking about today?

I'll get back to theme days once I find a groove of posting regularly. In the meantime, most of my posts are about some variation of books, bikes, buses, or Broadway. Plus bits about writing, nonprofits, and grief from time to time.

This blog is mostly lighthearted and pretty silly. It's not about the terrible things happening in the world, but please know that I'm not ignoring those things. I just generally don't write about them here.
Showing posts with label Sport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sport. Show all posts

20 August 2017

Change Comes in Pieces

I wrote this post in 2012 for the alumni site of Adventures in Missions (AIM), the short-term missions program for young adults that I participated in straight out of high school. AIM gave me incredible experiences and lifelong friends. Alas, the alumni site did not give me a storage place for my words. This piece came up in my Facebook memories a few days ago, but when I clicked through to re-read, I got an error message and then remembered that the alumni site is no more. 

Since I don't want a perfectly good 700 words to go to waste, I'm reposting it with a few tweaks but no updates that bring us to present day. So here's a bit of time travelling back to Austin during London 2012.

In the last 24 hours, I’ve watched 14 different sports. Right now, I’m flipping between three channels on my TV and two live feeds on my computer, and I have TV Guide, NBC Olympics, and London 2012 windows also open so I won’t miss anything. You might say I’m a fan.

My earliest Olympic memory is of fellow (eventually) Longhorn Mary-Lou Retton in ’84, but it wasn’t until ’88 that I understood that these mysterious Olympics were something special. And like everybody else, I couldn’t have been more into ’92. The Dream Team. The Unified Team. Kristi Yamaguchi and Viktor Petrenko. Dan and Dave. Janet Evans. Kim Zmeskal. It was an amazing year.

And then it got better, I thought—the IOC separated the Winter and Summer Games into different years, so we had an oh-so-short wait before the next Winter Games. I was delighted at first, but the closing ceremonies had more of a sense of finality than usual, because there were no forthcoming Summer Games. A two-year gap didn’t seem so short any longer.

In some ways, the Olympics are better than ever because each set of Games gets its own year, without the world’s attention being divided between the two. But the price for making both versions more special was that The Olympics as a whole have lost some of their mystery. The rarity and sense of occasion is diminished when the Olympic rings never vanish from Coke cans and McDonald’s wrappers. A little bit of the excitement and anticipation is lost, because it’s always an Olympic year.

But why should my post-AIM life make me think of the Olympics? In many ways, my time in Scotland was no different from anyone else’s field time: I learned. I grew. My personal horizons broadened. More importantly, my spiritual life expanded as the bounds I had placed on what God could do were dissolved again and again. But my heart broke into pieces.

There’s a gorgeous story about Dr. David Livingston, one of the pioneers of western missionaries to Africa. His compatriots in Scotland wanted to give his body a proper burial in the country of his birth, but the African people he had devoted his life to were not wild about the idea. Their ultimate solution was to send Dr. Livingston’s body back, but keep his heart. Why? “His heart belongs in Africa,” they said.

Yes. This. Exactly.
As short-term missionaries, we left our hearts behind when we came home. But I’ve found that two years of my life wasn’t sufficient for Glasgow to have all of my heart. There’s a piece of my heart at Spring Mill Bible Camp, my teenage safe haven. Bits of my heart live in Denver City, where I spent so much time as an AIM student and assistant, and at South Plains Church of Christ, where Chadwick and I were members for 8 years. Slivers of me sit at South Plains College and the University of Texas. You’ll find pieces of my heart with Chadwick at our little apartment on the edge of Austin and at workplaces like BikeTexas and the Wound Care Center. Even more bits of my heart are scattered across the planet right now, attached to people I love who have touched my life and left me as a better person. A better follower of Jesus. Better able to love the next person I meet.

Maybe that’s why, even as a mere observer, I feel such an affinity with the Olympic Games: not just because of the passion and dedication of the athletes, not just because of the excitement and joy and emotion of giving one’s whole self to a single moment. It’s because despite the storms, through some horribly wrong days and because of wonderfully right ones, and in contact with many hearts and minds, the Games change, and grow, and keep striving to be better.

Don’t be afraid of scattering your heart. Don’t shy away from leaving pieces of yourself behind. It hurts when your heart breaks, but that pain is not worth comparing to the glory that awaits us at the time when we will again be made whole.

29 April 2017

Y is for Yeatman #AtoZChallenge

Join me on the A to Z Challenge: I'll share a different thing from my new home, Cincinnati, every day for 26 days in April.

Yeatman's Cove is, according to the sign I read while down there, the place the first settlers landed from the Ohio in what would become Cincinnati. However, good luck finding confirmation of that anywhere on the internet.
Yeatman's Cove these days is one of a string of linear parks that stretch for two miles along the river, and if I weren't still in mourning for my beloved Town Lake Trail I would probably appreciate those two miles a lot more. As it is, well, it's still a nice spot even if I am unfairly comparing it to something 1000 miles away.

At Yeatman's Cove, we have the Serpentine Wall:

So named because it looks like this: ~~~~~~~~ Except it doesn't have quite that many wiggles, but you get the idea. The wall, in addition to looking like a set of bleachers and therefore being a great place for sitting, is also for flood prevention--Cincinnati's past contains some historic floods that resulted in loss of life and property, and obviously that's not a thing we want repeated. So the wall is one of several levees that keep the city high and dry in case the river gets a bit antsy and overflows its banks.
There was some nasty-looking debris that had washed up here that I didn't
want Sharlie rolling through, so here's where I stopped. Incidentally,
here's where the water stopped, too. So it's working great.
That's the Taylor Southgate Bridge, which lies between the Purple People Bridge
and the Roebling Suspension Bridge. It has a bike/ped path, so I still like
it even though it's not my favourite.
Flood stage for the river is 52 feet, measured from the Roebling Bridge, and I don't really know how they do that (which is probably why I'm not in charge of it).

Yeatman's Cove got its name, not from the first settlers, but rather from Cincinnati's first tavern, which Yeatman built here near the river, presumably for easy access for the men who wanted to get drunk after working on the river all day.
It's a city park now, so getting drunk here is highly discouraged. There
are two sports stadiums just a mile up the road that can help with that.

21 April 2017

R is for Reds #AtoZChallenge

Join me on the A to Z Challenge: I'll share a different thing from my new home, Cincinnati, every day for 26 days in April.

I very nearly skipped right over R and went straight to S, because even on my best days the alphabet and I aren't really on speaking terms, and today... is not one of my best days. So. Here we R.

Today's post is, in fact, an homage to person you should either thank or blame, depending on how you feel about me living in Cincinnati. For all the people who ask, "How did you end up in here?"--well, I almost didn't, but at some point my friend Bill said, "Have you thought about Cincinnati?" and went on to tell me about all the stuff Cincy has that I enjoy, like a whole bunch of theatre and a growing bike culture. And while it's gratifying to have friends who remember things that I like, I think it's even more true that Bill knows and loves Cincinnati well enough to know that a wide range of people and personalities can find a home here.

So! That being the case, and since Bill is a huge Reds fan, this post is for him. For me, well, I literally am surprised anew every time I see their logo, y'all. Can't remember what it looks like from one day to the next. Barely even remember what sport they play, most days. But I made my way down to the riverfront earlier this week on a game night, not on purpose, and when I texted a couple of the pics to Bill he said, "I'm watching it right now!" (I was not, but I was downtown long enough to hear the fireworks go off when something good happened. Bill said it was probably a grand slam. I had to think for a second to remember we weren't talking about tennis.)

Front door. A little girl in full-on Reds gear gave me a weird look
as she passed me, possibly because I was standing on the Reds' doorstep
wearing a Wizard of Oz t-shirt. 
I did just enough research to know that the Reds are the oldest franchise in Major League Baseball, and also that I probably should have been paying closer attention on Opening Day. Y'all... I keep finding stuff out a couple weeks too late. This has to be some sort of malady that can surely be cured with... I don't know, a better calendar? Friends who will just presume I don't know anything? Google alerts?

Round the back. Those mini-murals on the wall are to do with the
Flying Pig Marathon. They're great, but nothing to do with this post.
The local bikeshare system is called Red Bikes, but unlike the Pacers Bikeshare system up the road in Indianapolis, the Red Bikes don't seem to have anything to do with the baseball team. They're just red. Why, I don't know, because it seems like a fairly critical missed opportunity.

This dude has a plaque with his name on it, which I immediately forgot.
He's probably tired of holding that bat up.
I'm sure if I live here long enough, I'll go to a game eventually. Preferably with someone who will tell me what's going on, since this isn't tennis and that's pretty much the full extent of my baseball knowledge.
Wait, they sing? Y'all may be speaking my language
after all. Do they also build barricades?
Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is in honor of somebody.
Who? No idea.
There you have it--my thank-you post for the person who told me Cincinnati was worth looking into. Turns out he was right.

05 February 2017

They Tell Me It's Super

I realised a few days ago that my already sparse knowledge of American football has become even sparser in the last year or so, and I'm pretty sure that's because God loves me and has surrounded me with people who have other interests to talk about. (And believe me, I did my time with the people who can't talk about anything else.)

Football is basically this, right?
But without the singing
and the major character death?
However, I still managed to scrounge up a couple football-related stories this season that I'm not sure I ever shared. The first one happened when Jennie & I got back from our fun-filled weekend seeing Wicked, and we arrived at Billy & Jennie's house in time for Texas (my alma mater) v Notre Dame (who live in my home state).

Me: Are they at home?
Billy: ...
Me: That means something different for you than it does for me, doesn't it?
Billy: Yeah. They're in Austin.
Me: Great, so they're at home.
Billy: No, they're not.

But it gets better, because when he got up to go refill his drink or whatever, I said, "Oh, is it intermission already?" and without even blinking, he said, "Yep." Y'all, I make a lot of fun of my brother, because as his older sister it is my sacred duty, but he really is a treasure. It wasn't until much later that night when I mentioned that I appreciate his ability to translate Su-speak into English that he said, "Oh, you mean like when you called halftime 'intermission'?"

Yes. Exactly like that.

Speaking of people who are treasures. Thanks for
putting it into my language, Tony Awards.
(Some bright spark on Instagram said this is demeaning
and insulting. To be clear: that's only true if you're actively
looking to be demeaned or insulted. Have a laugh, would you please.)
Story #2 happened when my parents were moving my stuff into my Cincinnati storage unit, which happened to be up the street from one of the two professional sports stadiums in town. Dad asked, "Is that the Bengals or the Reds stadium?" I said, "Do either of those two teams play tennis?" He said, "Right. Never mind," and asked a friendly-looking pedestrian instead. (It was Bengals stadium. Sometimes I manage to remember for minutes at a time who the Bengals are.)

Enjoy the game, y'all. I still don't even know who's playing. (Don't tell me. I treasure my ignorance.)

21 November 2015

On the Sport Involving Feet

This post is brought to you by recurring guest blogger Bill Hill: friend, former classmate, Twitter user extraordinaire (@MrBillHill), and all-around good guy. He was looking for a spot to empty his brain and I was looking for someone to write things for Cheekyness while I'm NaNoWriMo-ing. Bill occasionally blogs at Bill's Universe II.

Part of me feels annoyed when I look at this cartoon. It assumes that every American is bored by the game of soccer/football, which is obviously untrue. As much as ESPN may be hawking and exaggerating the overall effect, it is true that soccer/football is gaining popularity here in the States. If there’s anything I like about this cartoon, though, it’s the idea that the sociopolitical element is completely subverted in favor of a value judgment. The soccer/football player frames the sport as primarily a cultural or linguistic product, and the American’s response unveils the needless artificiality therein. It’s that idea I’ll be discussing today – the idea that soccer/football is first and foremost a sport, and that all its geopolitical entanglements only limit our ability to evaluate the game.

There are plenty of angles to start with, of course, but the best place to begin is the name.

1. The name of the sport should be used to relay information, and not to communicate any sort of social, cultural, ideological, or geopolitical viewpoint.

I think everyone understands by now that soccer is virtually a term used only in America.  When we were in second grade, this was almost like a trivia item – ‘Did you know that soccer is called football in England?’ In 2015, though, this is pretty common knowledge. And of course, it doesn’t only apply to England.

What’s really odd, though, is how the Difference-of-Name has actually begun to bother some people. I recall one macro image, for example, in which an indignant soccer ball cried out to an American football, ‘Find your own name!’ Moreover, the term soccer is sometimes treated with contempt and mockery. Certain English commentators, if I’m not mistaken, treat the word as if it’s some kind of cultural handicap: ‘Ha! You Americans use the term soccer! What’s wrong with you people?’

Guess what? When it comes to the terms soccer and football, both are useful terms.

Football is useful because:
a. this term is a decidedly accurate description of the general game-play
b. this term (or some linguistic variation) is used in the majority of global nations

Soccer is useful because:
a. it is a long-standing British term which originally referred to Association Football
b. it prevents unwanted confusion (particularly in the U.S.) between soccer-football and American football

The term soccer does not exist as a symbol of geopolitical defiance, nor are those who use the term typically ignorant of the alternate name. 

On one hand, the term soccer still existed in England for the better part of the twentieth century – therefore the idea that soccer is an American invention is nothing short of an old wives’ tale. On the other hand, anyone who thinks that this is a ‘stubborn America’ issue – that America should ‘adapt’ by phasing out the term soccer – needs to remember that there would be needless confusion with regard to American football. It would be like saying, ‘The nation of Mexico must adapt, and start using the English word see instead of ver!’ Besides how utterly presumptuous that would be, it would also be inconsiderate toward the potential confusion between see and sí. Therefore it is not stubbornness or ignorance which lets the term soccer survive in America – again, most people know by now that the term football is much more common – rather, it is practicality.

When someone calls the sport soccer, then, try and remember this: It is needlessly close-minded and combative to argue over what term they should be using instead. Think of it like this: A French-speaker approaches an English-speaker and says to them, ‘Bonjour!’ It would be incredibly unnecessary for the English-speaker to reply, ‘You are the only country in the world that has developed the term Bonjour! How dare you use such an unconventional phrase!’ With soccer/football, it is the same; the name of the game should summon the concept of the sport without inviting any sort of cultural/geopolitical criticism.

But I’m sad to say that the issue extends far beyond the name of the sport:

2. Any judgment concerning the game of soccer/football applies merely to the sport itself; it is not a comment on any sort of cultural or geopolitical issue.

Unfortunately, our society seems to have bought into this tiresome philosophy: ‘If you decide you aren’t interested in the game of soccer/football, it means you are xenophobic – too stubborn and close-minded to enjoy something culturally different.’ Maybe if there were someone who refused to watch a single minute of soccer/football on television (simply because it was unfamiliar), then this philosophy might apply. If we’re being intelligent and realistic, however, we know that isn’t what people mean when they say they don’t enjoy soccer/football. They’re making a judgment about the game, and saying (in so many words), ‘The game of soccer/football is a relatively uninteresting procedure.’

If this were a doctoral dissertation, I would probably conduct a statewide survey to illustrate the idea. Since this is a blog post, though, I’ll give you my own personal analysis of the sport:
I believe that the game of soccer/football is relatively uninteresting. The top-tier players clearly exhibit impressive athleticism, but essentially, the game itself provides a lackluster showcase for their skill-set. The most ‘exciting’ plays are often those where the athletes maneuver the ball past their opponents; unfortunately, the vast majority of these plays do not culminate in a direct scoring attempt (and most often, are eventually followed by a change of possession). The result is that even the athletes’ more impressive motions are usually without significant consequence. While successful goals are often entertaining (and sometimes spectacular), these goals do not occur commonly enough to enrich the suspense of the overall game-play. Essentially, the extended periods of inconsequential activity (as well as the fluid alteration of ball-possession) limit the game’s ability to demand attention and/or engagement. I watch the World Cup every four years to follow the interesting playoff narrative, but as for the sport itself, it provides little in the way of entertainment. 
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not trying to convince you that soccer/football is uninteresting. I have plenty of friends who truly enjoy soccer/football, and I respect their individual tastes. I’ve only written that paragraph to illustrate the nature of sports-related judgments – judgments apply only to the game. Did I mention anywhere that soccer/football is uninteresting because it is popular in Europe? – Did I ever say that soccer/football was unwelcome in America? – Was there any comparison between soccer/football and more ‘Americanized’ sports? No, no, and no. The judgments relate to the game, and everyone should be free to make those judgments. Picture it this way: Someone says they don’t want any rice with their dinner, because they aren’t very fond of rice. Imagine how ridiculous it would be if someone replied, ‘Aha! So you disapprove of Eastern culture, eh?’ Not only would that be absurd, but you would also probably be suspicious about the cultural attitude of the person who said it.

I already know how some people would respond, though: ‘You may think that your judgment is based on the sport, but your judgment is actually a result of American indoctrination. Without being surrounded by a xenophobic American culture, you would have no notion that soccer/football is any less interesting than other sports.’

Wrong, wrong, and wrong. Now once again, if I were submitting this post as an article for an academic journal, I would conduct some sort of sociological research. But for the purpose of this blog post, I can look to myself for the counterargument; essentially, I am Walking Disproof of the ‘You’re-Bored-Because-It’s-Foreign’ argument.

How? Well, I look to the game of Rugby. Growing up, I had never even heard of Rugby. It wasn’t like soccer, which was part of every school’s athletic program; it was a totally foreign product. I think I first saw a game of Rugby when I was a High School Freshman – before then, it was nothing more than a rarely-heard encyclopedia term. But when I saw it, I sort of fell in love with it.

Rugby is fast, tense, and exciting. Not every possession results in a score, but even the less eventful possessions are marked by fast pace, hard hits, and desperate scrambles. The players tend to converge on the ball, giving the sport a highly contingent narrative centered around the game-play’s nucleus. If a player can get a solid run headed into the open field, there’s enough risk and variability that the game-play is suspenseful as a result.

At least in my case, then – and I imagine in others’ – the ‘Foreign = Boring’ rule holds no water. I don’t find soccer/football uninteresting because of its cultural context; I find it uninteresting because of what happens on the field. The judgment of sports, then, should be entirely separate from the geopolitical landscape – and we shouldn’t resent people’s feelings on soccer/football any more than we should resent what someone’s favorite color is.

What’s really funny is this: Xenophobia toward American football seems to be encouraged and celebrated here in the States. ‘Pah! American football,’ people will say. ‘Just a stubborn little American habit – nothing interesting about it at all.’ These are the same people who like to remind us (and flaunt before us) that ‘Soccer is the world’s most popular sport!’ Interestingly, their own logic suggests that they’re the xenophobic ones. If American football is so different – so quaint and unusual when weighed against other global hobbies – then doesn’t an aversion to American football suggest sticking within the global comfort zone? – that is, refusing to enjoy something only because it is culturally unfamiliar? It’s almost like going to the obscure village of North Ninsasprinsapo, and eating some food you have never heard of before: roast baganakwan. You taste it, dislike it, and then say ‘How close-minded the people of this village are! They eat this peculiar food, and don’t eat what the rest of the world eats!’ What you’re really doing is proving how close-minded you are. If you’re desperate to prove how sensible ‘the rest of the world’ is, you’ve obviously got a problem accepting your own surroundings. This is ultimately why we should refrain from entangling our sports-related judgments with the sociopolitical climate – an inability to distinguish these concepts is a kind of stubbornness in itself.

That’s probably a good stopping point, even though there are plenty of other things to say. If I had another blog post to write, I might explore why people treat soccer/football as such a competitive force with other sports, when really we are free to love any number of games without needing a competitive hierarchy. I think that is a blog post for another day, though. And for now, I leave you with the immortal words of Sigmund Freud, who reminds: ‘Sometimes a soccer ball is just a soccer ball.’

19 April 2014

Q is for Quiet.

It's the A to Z Challenge, where every day I share my favourite book or book series that starts with the day's letter.

Quiet Strength: The Principles, Practices & Priorities of a Winning Life, Tony Dungy.

I hate American football, with all that is within me, and I still managed to love this book.







What's your favourite 'Q' book?

27 January 2014

Fuel to the Fire

Last week, I realised I was going to miss kind of an important deadline at school, so I dashed off an apologetic email to a prof (and then was too nervous to check my email for three days) and then spent the rest of the week stressed out and trying to finish off the project that was already late.

When I finally checked my email, I found out things were not as dire as I had thought they were. But the project is finished and turned in, and I'm exhausted

Seriously:

Chadwick asked me this afternoon if I was feeling okay, and I had to explain to him that while he's grown accustomed this week to me racing about in an adrenaline-fueled panic, which was aided by my own insistence in getting up in the middle of the night for two weeks to watch Australian Open matches, that's not actually my norm. In fact, I've spent most of the day trying to remind myself that I have no reason to be stressed out today, because by some miracle I'm caught up with all my homework right now and even have a handle on things at work. (For normal people, being caught up during the second week of the semester would not require any miracles. Not me, though.)

It can't possibly be this healthy for 21st-century people to burn through our adrenal glands this fast. But I hate to be left out, so I'm sure I'll be back on it in a couple of days.

What do you do to handle your stress?

13 November 2013

Ten Things

You've probably seen this on Facebook: "Like this and I'll give you a number!" with a list of X things you may not have known about the person. Well, if I'm going to do that sort of thing, I like to bring it to the blog instead. So, ten things about me that I may not have shared before:

Source.
1. I have a pair of tennis balls in my living room. They're for rolling my feet over after I run or other times when they feel less-than-great. These tennis balls have never seen a racquet.

2. I started watching tennis during the MLB strike in 94-95. Until that year, I couldn't get enough of baseball. Now, I can't even remember why I liked it so much.

3. I see people reading books on the bus or the train that are either on my to-read list or my have-read list and I'm desperate to start talking to them about it. Sometimes I manage to refrain.

4. I have a vase full of dried flowers on my dining room table. My sister thinks this is morbid.

5. Chadwick and I decided when we got married that The Lord of the Rings complete boxed set would be the first DVDs we would buy, once all three movies were out (we got married right after Fellowship of the Ring came out in theatres). It's been 12 years and we own a couple of DVDs because other people have bought them for us. We have still never bought any ourselves.

6. On our second viewing of Fellowship of the Ring in the theatre, Chad and I sat in front of three teenage girls. At the end, one of them said, "I liked the blonde. What was his name? Nicholas?" I doubled over in laughter because I thought that was more socially acceptable than dumping popcorn over her head.

7. I almost became a member of Team "If You Haven't Read The Book, You Don't Deserve To See The Movie" that day. I still feel that way when I see people on the interwebs raving about Harry Potter and it's painfully obvious they've never so much as laid eyes on the books.

8. I failed at being a vegetarian because I lack imagination when it comes to food.

9. When I see children misbehaving in public, I have to run around a corner or open a book in front of my face or something so the kid can't see me laugh. I'm afraid that sometimes the poor parent sees me and misconstrues my reaction as disapproval. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

10. I'm a serious fan of musicals but do not necessarily think that the originator of a role is the bar by which all others are judged. Well, that's not entirely true. I do think that, because I also think the originator's performance gives subsequent performers something to build on and it's almost inevitable that the originator's performance will be surpassed sooner or later. You won't find me in the "the original actor is always the best" club.

What's something the internet may not know about you? Please share!

29 July 2012

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow...

...Sorta.

So I watched the opening ceremony, of course, on Friday night. After Beijing's spectacular opening ceremony four years ago, I remember all the articles and podcasts in the British media saying basically, "Well, we'll never top that! Pressure's off." Which I admit is a refreshing change to the "We must be better! We must be louder! We must be fancier!" approach that the U.S. tends to take to everything.


So, I didn't think the opening ceremony was going to have the wow factor of the Beijing version, and it didn't, but I enjoyed it all the same. The hymns that the kids sang--Danny Boy in Northern Ireland, Flower of Scotland in Scotland, Guide Me O Thou Great Redeemer in Wales, and Jerusalem in England-- were fabulous. I found out afterwards that a segment honouring, among others, the victims of the 7/7 terrorism in London, was cut from the NBC broadcast. You can see the video here, and while I don't at all agree with the ridiculous headline on Deadspin, it does at least have the whole song.


I decided to risk NBC's ire and swipe
one of their photos. Most teams
looked like flight attendants or like
they had escaped from their
boarding school. Mexico managed
to be fun! Source.
And since I brought up the NBC broadcast... maybe it's time for another network to have a go at the Olympics. The commentators on Friday night (Bob Costas, Matt Lauer, and Meredith Viera) were obviously jaded/bored/uninterested. Among the many, many criticisms of their commentary on Twitter (to which I happily contributed) were that they narrated it like the Macy's parade; they they talked down to the audience (example: "This may not make sense to you since you're not British" or "You can Google him if you want"-- gosh, thanks); and that they made jokes about many of the nations, especially the smaller nations, which bordered on insulting. I wish they'd learn to be silent from time to time.


Anyway, I got up early on Saturday to catch the cycling, some of the swimming qualifiers, and as much tennis as possible. I'm so happy to have cable TV when the Olympics come round. I also don't mind watching prerecorded stuff in prime time, although I take exception to Bob Costas saying they're showing things "as it happened" when of course they've done plenty of editing. We're really just getting extended highlights. But yay, we have the internet now, so I can watch it online if I want to.


Today? More of the same! I love weekends. Swimming, gymnastics, Tennis!, and more cycling. And whatever else I can fill in the corners with-- yesterday I watched some archery, fencing, boxing, basketball, and a bit of volleyball as well. And that's why I love the Olympics so much-- plenty of sports for all tastes, nonstop for two weeks. It's brilliant.


Somebody at work suggested last week that we could hook up a computer to the big screen and have the Olympics on at work. I pointed out that that's a good way for me not to get any work done.


Do you watch the Olympics? What's your favourite (if you can narrow it down-- I can't!)? Do you enjoy mocking the commentary?

27 July 2012

It's Finally Here!

Source.
The moment we've all been waiting for since the last time the torch was extinguished... London 2012 starts today! Yes, I'm one of those people. The ones who know when every event is on, and can tell you who the favourite is, but who they want to win instead, and who will probably annoy you silly for the next two weeks.

But, it's also Friday, so I would be remiss if I didn't make some suggestions on how to green up your Olympic viewing. Here goes:

1. Go watch at a neighbour's house. Then, your two houses will only need to use half as much electricity as before. Of course, you could achieve the same effect if your neighbour comes to your house to watch, but then it's on your bill instead of theirs.

2. If your neighbour isn't keen on this suggestion, sit in his/her backyard with binoculars. Don't worry about spilling popcorn on the lawn; the birds will eat it!

3. If you must watch alone, turn off all the lights in the house to compensate for the extra electricity you'll be using.

4. Buy bigger bags of snacks instead of smaller ones. They'll last longer and you'll save on packaging.

5. And don't bother cooking anything. Then you won't have to do any dishes, either.

6. Borrow a flag from a local high school instead of buying your own. Return it after the Olympics are over. This is easiest if you go after dark.

7. Just wear the same clothes for the whole Games. Less washing and you aren't moving from the couch anyway, right?

8. If you actually take any of these suggestions, you totally deserve what happens to you. Have fun and happy watching!

26 July 2012

James

This name has come into some disgrace in the past week. On the other hand, it's also held by what sometimes feels like every second person in the English-speaking world, so I'm sure it's had some glory this past week, too.

James
From New Testament Greek to Latin to English, James traveled quite a road from his humble beginnings as a variant of Jacob, which means either "supplanter" or "may God protect". Seven kings of Scotland (and two of England) and six U.S. Presidents have been named James, not to mention a couple of apostles and one of Jesus' brothers (the author of the epistle James in the New Testament), unless you're Catholic, in which case James probably a cousin of Jesus'. Currently the third most popular boys' name in Scotland and Northern Ireland. It was the most popular boys' name in the U.S. from 1940 until 1952, and was in the top five from 1880 (the beginning of record-keeping) until 1980. That's why every other person is named James, methinks. Currently, it's the 17th most popular name for boys in the U.S. Incidentally, it peaked as the 318th most popular for girls in 1928. Clearly, James gets around.

Don't worry, Australian friends; I
haven't forgotten Captain Cook.
Source.
Famous Jameses: Geez. If you go here, you can see a list of a bunch of famous Jameses, complete with pictures. (Does anybody else think James Franco looks a lot like James Dean?) A few that I particularly like: Jim Henson, J.M. Barrie, Jamie Murray (tennis player; older brother to Andy Murray), Jimmy Fallon, James Van Der Beek, James McAvoy.

Fictional Jameses: James and the Giant Peach, James Potter (Harry Potter), James Russell (Chalet School), James Bond, James T. Kirk, (Captain) James Hook.

My Jameses: In addition to about a dozen friends and acquaintances called James, I do tend to use the name a lot in writing. So far, I'm holding off in my current WIP, but I've had so many Jameses that I've pretty much lost track of them all.

Are you a James? Do you feel like you're surrounded by Jameses?

Sources:

16 July 2012

Trophy People

You might say I'm a bit of a sports fan.

I'm not a tennis player, but
I watch some on TV.
Source.
Normally, when someone says "a bit" like that, it's meant as a casual understatement. In my case, it's more or less true. I live in Texas, the land of American football, and I'm from Indiana, the home of basketball, but I don't spend much time with either sport. (Just to clarify: I love basketball and support my hometown-ish team, the Indiana Pacers, but I rarely take the time to watch a game. I catch the highlights after.) I watch tennis and soccer, especially European teams, and cycling when I'm at home while it's on. I'm pretty sure that most people who call themselves "real sports fans" would not consider me to be a member of the club.

On the other hand, one reason why I love the Olympics so much is because of the chance to see such a variety of sports in such a short time. I like to think of myself as a diversified sports fan.

Anyway! I get irritated sometimes about how the general public acts toward athletes. It's almost as though the general public feels ownership over athletes, as if we are owed al the details of their lives and nothing is permitted to remain private. For instance, last Sunday before the Wimbledon final, a reporter asked Andy Murray what he and his girlfriend had done for dinner the previous night. When Mr. Murray said, "None of your business," Twitter suddenly filled up with comments about what a horrible sportsman he is. Erm, no. It really isn't anyone's business theirs. His sportsmanship has nothing to do with answering personal questions.

Of course, for Andy Murray, the public have no problem finding things to complain about. It started long before that, with the English press berating him for saying that he supported Anyone But England in the World Cup (coincidentally, that's who I support, too), and him finally getting exasperated and pointing out how much time he spends in England and how many English friends he has, which led to a backlash in Scotland about him being so pally with the English. For goodness' sakes.

And we do it in the US, too: I've lost count of how many times I've heard people complain about athletes not "respecting the fans" because they look bored during a press conference or have to hurry away or whatever. Seriously? I like that athletes thank their fans and acknowledge that other peoples' support is an encouragement and a help to them. But I don't for one moment think that elite athletes owe fans anything. We aren't there during their hours of training, we're not the ones getting up early and working out to the point of exhaustion, and most of us aren't in the family/friends circle. They're not obligated to devote their spare time to their fan base.

I understand that the reason athletes get paid what they do is because people make sports valuable. Without fans, there'd be not ticket sales, no contracts, no prize money. Granted. But that still doesn't make their private lives public, and it still doesn't mean fans have first dibs on an athlete's moods or time. And I think we need to get that and be okay with it.

What do you think?

14 July 2012

Homeade Ade

I've been scouring the web for a good recipe for sports drinks (like Gatorade). As with so many other things, I'm a little bit fussy about my homemade-ness (although my standards went down after two weeks of searching): I wanted something that could be stored as a powder, not as a liquid, so that eliminated a lot of really good recipes that called for orange juice as a base. I was also hoping to find something that did not call for having Kool-ade or Tang or a similar prepared powder for flavour, because that adds in preservatives and artificial colours. Finally, budget ruled all. I wanted something cheaper than buying a massive container of Gatorade powder, which is what I've always done in the past (and it's not terribly expensive, btw; here in Austin, you can get 24 quarts' worth of powder for about $8); if I'm going to make something at home, by golly, it has to be cheaper than buying it at the store.

Nutrition facts, as
calculated by SparkPeople.
I found a delightful website called Sports Girls Play that had a recipe that was similar enough to all the others I had seen, and also had an analysis of the ingredients, the nutrients, and a short spiel about Gatorade itself (see that post here). I tried it as written first, but the saltiness was a bit overwhelming to someone who's used to the sweetness of Gatorade. I added a couple more tablespoons of sugar to get this recipe:

3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp Morton Lite Salt
1 pkg Flavor-Aid (or any drink powder; use the amount called for to make two quarts)

The recipe calls for Kool-Ade, but the Flavor-Aid is much, much cheaper: I bought a 12-pack for 92¢, compared to Kool-Ade at $1 for five (and any powdered drink mix that you like will work). I mixed it up in my former Gatorade container and use one tablespoon of mix per 8 oz water, which is the amount also recommended on the Gatorade package--the actual recipe on the site calls for mixing it up into two quarts of water straight away, which I don't want to do. Also, using one tablespoon per 8 ounces of water makes it taste fine, but it does mean that I'll end up getting more than two quarts' use out of the batch. I'm totally cool with that.

For excessive sweating,
this by itself is not quite
enough. Source.
For sweaty bicycle trips home in the 90-100° weather, I up the ratio of powder to water just a bit. As a runner in a sweaty climate, I live in fear of hyponatremia, and I'll risk going overboard on the sodium a bit to make sure I'm not going underboard.

On the budget side, after I added up the cost of ingredients and divided by the number of servings, I came up to 8¢ per serving for the Gatorade powder, and 2.7¢ per serving for this recipe. Obviously that will vary a bit depending on what the prices in your part of the world are like. In the end, I got two out of three of my criteria, so I'm calling that a success.

Do you use sports drinks at all? What kind do you like?

15 March 2012

Closing Streets

Jack from BikeTexas, telling a cyclist
what kind of work we do.
A couple of weeks ago, Chad and I went with BikeTexas to Síclovía in San Antonio. For a few hours on a Sunday afternoon, a major street through downtown San Antonio was closed to motor traffic and open to walkers, skaters, skateboarders, runners, cyclists, dogwalkers... you name it, people were out doing it. There were people near us playing something ping-pong-ish in the road. Children deployed their sidewalk chalk. UT San Antonio Pharmacy students had a hula-hoop and jump rope station.

The parade at Síclovía.
Taking advantage of the closed streets.
That yellow thing in the corner
is Jack's (above) cargo bike.
BikeTexas was "renting" out bikes-- they were free for people to take and use, so long as they left us with some credit card information in case they and the bikes didn't come back again. (They all did.) Chad helped with the bikes, at his first BikeTexas event, while I was at the membership/petition-signing booth. I'm not very good at the spiel, by the way, but I did get credit for one guy becoming a member. (The abbreviated spiel: A lot of BikeTexas' funding comes from the dues people and organizations pay for us to do bicycle advocacy on their behalf. We need members!)

GE's logo thing.
A robot at the GE booth.
I'm not sure what it does,
because it was standing
still the whole time.
Also in the closed-streets department: A bunch of streets in downtown Austin are closed this week for South by Southwest. Ordinarily, a closed street brings me delight, since I can walk across it without fearing for my life. Not so during SXSW: The closed streets are clogged with pedestrians, bicycles, pedicabbers, and food vendors, so getting around is not as easy as it sounds. Yesterday, the whole of BikeTexas rode from our office across downtown for a GE Mobile Fridge (I think that's what they were calling it) event. They were making some non-conventional bike racks, which as I understand it will eventually be deployed around Austin.

At the GE event. These are a couple of the bike racks;
in the background is the workshop where things were
happening!
Everyone who works for BikeTexas always wears a helmet while riding, in a "set a good example" kind of way. So there was quite a train of helmeted riders trying to cross town yesterday, and we mixed in with a bunch of other cyclists on the way, some with helmets, some not. So many helmeted riders in one place are such an unusual sight that a pedicabber behind me said, "Wow, everybody's wearing helmets; that's awesome. All except for that [deleted]. He's gonna get killed."

And finally, a closed-street event that isn't a marathon or SXSW is coming to Austin: We're getting our very own Viva Streets. What's more, it's the weekend of graduation. That means I get to drag my entire family downtown to see what all the fuss is about, plus they'll get to meet all the lovely people I work with at BikeTexas. And, of course, it means I'll get to enjoy the festival without having to stand at a booth. Yay!

The Viva Streets route through Austin. Are you going to be in town
May 20th? I know a fun place you can go! Source.
Have you ever been to a street-closing event? A massive music/film/whatever festival? Something else really fun that I'd love to know about?

30 May 2011

Congress Avenue Mile

Once a year, the fastest mile runners in the state of Texas all come to Austin in late May to show what their hard work has brought them to. They start in front of the state capitol and zoom all the way across the river, a gradual downhill mile. They grimace, they sweat, they dig deep, they probably don't even bother breathing more than necessary as they race each other, as they race themselves, to the finish line.

In under five minutes.

I've been hearing about this little race for months and wanted to watch. There are a whole bunch of categories: 40 & over, 39 & under, elementary school, middle school, family fun run, and elites. But the highlight of the day, the crown jewel, is the high school championship at the end. Students get into this race by invitation only, and they are divided into four teams: West, East, North, and South. Now Chad and I have spent all but one year of our Texas lives in West Texas, so that's who we were planning to cheer for. As we walked down the street to our chosen cheering spot, we saw three of the four teams warming up, and were wondering where our West Texans were, when from around the corner came a young lady with a West singlet who had obviously just come from warming up.

Just imagine this street
with running teenagers
instead of cars. That's
what it looked like.
Chad: Are you the only West Texas runner?
West: No, but I don't really do group warm-ups. I had to go do my own thing.
Chad: Cool. We'd seen every team except West, so we wondered where you guys were!
West: giggles
Me: Good luck! We'll be cheering for y'all.
West: Thanks! (She ended up finishing second, by the way, so warming up by herself seems to have been a good choice.)

There were not many spectators at this race, which really surprised me. Apparently one only goes to the Congress Avenue mile to run or to watch one's child run, and for the general public to turn up and cheer is unusual. Just doing our part to Keep Austin Weird, I always say. But really, I can't understand why anyone who likes running and lives nearby would want to miss it. Watching the fastest teens in Texas was so inspiring-- these young people have worked so hard, early and late, to get where they are. They're the living answer to those who would write off "kids these days". My only regret after watching them is that I can't get to Indiana often enough to watch one of my young cousins-- Eldest Cousin's (yes, it's a terrible nickname) firstborn is also a runner, and could hold his own with these Texan teens. So since I can't watch Running Cousin (another terrible nickname), I watched these students instead. It was remarkable. And when we went running afterwards, Chad kept warning me against being so revved up and going out too fast. Oops.

What inspires you to work harder? Doesn't have to be running related-- it can be anything!

30 September 2010

How to Be an Elite Athlete

Now I know what to do before my next marathon: Eat Weetabix! And wear a giant stuffed costume.


















And while on the subject of Weetabix, here's my favourite advert of theirs (although they are all brilliant):


15 September 2010

My University Has a Football Team?

UT's first game of the year was, I believe, against Rice.

For all I know, it might equally well have been against Barley, Wheat or Quinoa. I'm fairly certain it was an away game, and my classmates assure me that UT won. I have every sympathy with my linguistics instructor, a doctoral student who tries so hard to care about the stuff undergrads care about: The next class day after the game, she asked, "How was everybody's weekend? Didn't we play... somebody?" The class giggled, but I think they did at least appreciate the effort.

I know about the first home game of the year, though; there were lots of signs, tents, charter buses, and bewildered out-of-towners on campus to announce the coming festivities. And, in case I had missed all those clues, Capital Metro provided this public service announcement: DELAYS EXPECTED. UT vs WYOMING FOOTBALL GAME. Ah, that clears it up. I can always rely on my bus company to keep me informed. (Really, I can. They're pretty fabulous that way.) And, my classmates tell me again, we won last weekend as well.

I discovered about 10 years ago that the best time to go shopping for anything in Lubbock was during a Tech game. I'm hoping the same holds true for the Longhorn games; otherwise, what's the point? I just hope I never need to use the library during a football game, because thousands of screaming people might impair my concentration.

25 August 2010

A Gyro, a Handball & some Shaved Ice walk into a Su

I forgot to mention in my previous post that sometime during the afternoon Chad & I were wandering Guadalupe (don't pronounce the "e" on the end; I don't know why, except that Austin is weird) Street looking for some food and we ran across a Jordanian restaurant, of all things. While we stared at the menu in "uncertain" mode, the owner recommended his #1-selling item: It was a Gyro with lamb and beef in it, and some various seasonings. I forget what he called it, but it was fabulous. So if anyone comes to visit us, we will probably take you there for lunch at least once.

At the end of the last post, Chad & I were halfway up one of UT's 243 hills. We were on our way to meet up with another group who I plan to join on campus: Koinonia. Not to be confused with the LCU social club of the same name (and I don't join "social clubs," anyway), this is one of the Christian organizations on campus, and from what I have seen, it's the only Christian group that was geared up and ready to go in terms of welcoming new students; they've had activities going on all week.

Tuesday's activity was "Shaved Ice and Sports", and while the "sports" part normally sounds scary to me, it was pretty much the only thing we had to occupy our time between the organization fair and Gone to Texas. So, we went along, met a few friendly people, and were assigned to the blue team. (Yay!) Our first contest was to come up with at team cheer, and the blue team won! Unfortunately, that was the last thing we won.

The intrepid Blue Team, during a break.

The first game was called "Handball", and it was essentially Ultimate Frisbee with soft foamy balls instead of flying discs of doom. And it was much, much more fun than I anticipated. It started raining while we were playing, but it hardly mattered, because we were all already dripping with sweat anyway. After a few games of handball, we stopped playing for a while because the shaved ice arrived.

Well, you can't actually see a ball in this picture. But that's what the game looked like. :)

Then, we played a game called "Braveheart", which apparently Koinonia plays at all of their game-playing gatherings. It was essentially dodgeball, but with yoga balls instead of the rubber things you used to use in primary school. Also more fun than I anticipated.

And while we were having a great time with Koinonia, we had to head off for Gone to Texas.

29 June 2010

It's okay to stop watching. Now.

So, the World Cup is going on, in case you missed it.

Which means once again, we must endure the yammering from sportswriters who are of the American football-and-basketball persuasion. I grow weary of hearing the same complaints every four years about how boring soccer is to Americans and what a waste of ESPN broadcasting it is.

And then the other side gets annoyed and comes back with smug comments about the stupidity of people who don't understand what football is all about.

So, as is my custom, I think truth probably resides in the middle. So, if you enjoy the World Cup, great. I'll be at your house on Saturday to watch. If you don't, fine. Change the channel.

The reason the whole argument annoys me is this: It once again shows that human beings, and especially, it seems, the ones who live here, feel threatened by an opposing viewpoint. So, we have to come out swinging instead of acknowledging that other people feel differently about something.

There are so many sports available to choose. In this country, you can probably find people who enjoy the same thing that you do in most places. I know for sure in Lubbock that we have people who play cricket, lacrosse, field hockey, plus the whole spectrum of "normal" sports. In a place with this much diversity in lifestyle, interests and hobbies, and an argument like "Your sport is boring!" "No it isn't!" has no place. It's not like you don't have another option.

So, I shall enjoy the World Cup. And Wimbledon, and the Tour de France, plus any other soccer, tennis or cycling I can find on TV. And sooner or later, American football will return to the sports channels, and I'll do what I always do.

I'll change the channel.

27 June 2010

Still sad, but not too disappointed...

Wow, my blog got a mention and a link on the Bible class email. Guess I better say something profound, like... um... Family Builders rock!!

Well, they do, as it happens, but I'm trying to put some normal stuff between my sappy posts. So, I'll put that one off for a few days. Besides, the SpyPros do get top billing, so Family Builders will have to wait. No one actually said that this blog was interesting.

Yeah. So, the US is out of the World Cup. Which is a real bummer, because two of our three games in the group stage were fantastic and I was hoping for more of the same in the knockout stage. Sigh.

But, my hopes were only to get out of the group stage, so I guess next time I'll set my sights higher.

Watching the final game of the group stage was fun; I had it on the computer next to mine (with permission!) and was watching while working. As the game progressed and I knew we needed to win in order to advance, I was getting more and more tense. So when we finally scored, in minute 92, for goodness' sake, I jumped up & down like I'd done it myself, although I did remember that I was in a doctor's office and that screaming of any sort was a bad plan. My coworkers assured me that my face went all red (nothing new for me) and that I had one very large grin on my face.

The US v Ghana game was less pleasing, of course. Toward the end, when we once again needed a goal to stay alive, one chance after another brought "Oh"s of disappointment and one high-pitched shriek (me) from the crowd gathered at Market Street.

Chad was not sympathetic to the loss, but fortunately we do have soccer- and World Cup-loving friends who shared my mourning.

And then England lost today, which helps ease the pain considerably, since I am a member of Team Anybody But England.

So, I'm going to be like everyone else and default to Brasil as the team I want to win (since Mexico has likewise passed into the night). And change the paint on my face to St. Andrew's cross, in support of Andy Murray at Wimbledon.