Me and my running - a year in

I’ve dropped reference to it a few times on Facebook and Twitter, but I’ve got to expound on my running routine and what it means to me. It’s become pretty important and has definitely yielded results, which has proven both good for my health and good for my attitude.

From an early age through most of high school, I hated running. Hated it. I liked playing sports but I hated the effort needed to run; I barely did more than was necessary because pushing my fat-kid physique past where it hurts was…well, painful. It took a real “ah-ha!” moment in high school to get past that first mental hurdle. Playing rugby senior year I got in the best shape of my life — not just from running but all-around physical conditioning. I felt fantastic.

That shape came and went during college, but my senior year I was again doing well since I was playing soccer pretty often. I still hated running for the sake of running, but I could go out and play soccer for at least two hours and not keel over dead. I weighed about 250 pounds, felt great…and within a few months had let that slip.

Over the following years I tried to go running and stay in shape at various points but with little success. I hit my nadir in the spring term of 2010 during MIM. After losing weight walking around Asia in March, I shot back up – and got as heavy as I’ve ever known. I would be kind and say 290 pounds, but that was through one eye on the scale. I can safely say it got higher than that and I probably cracked 300 pounds. I’m a big guy, but that’s far from healthy.

Big me soaring for a catch in the 2010 Portland Footy season. Image from Portlandfooty.com

It was around that time I got involved with the Australian Football club in Portland, now known as the Portland Steelheads. Aussie rules is a very different sport from any I’d played before but I took to it quickly, enjoyed playing the game, and made friends with others on the team. I have to thank Will and James for getting me into the club, and also all the others on the team for inspiring me to keep with it and get better. I even helped put together an off-season exercise and running game to encourage club members to go running (or to go play other sports), and to do it with others on the club. Despite not being in incredible shape there was never anything but encouragement from the club, and I really miss getting the chance to play having left for Japan.

It was from that running game I started to get the bug to go running in general. I started with really short intervals around the track at the Portland State gym, but after graduating, continued on the trails in the park near my parent’s house. To say I’ve changed my opinion on running is an understatement. I’m now running on a fairly regular schedule, and I’m also running farther and faster than ever. This time last year I never thought I could run 5K without stopping; now, that’s a short run.

This past weekend was my first ever road race. I have to thank my friend, Kim, who’s a veteran JET teacher and works in the next town over. She has been a great help in many regards since I moved to Japan, but she also pushed me to set a goal with my running. As soon as she found out I ran to stay in shape, her next words were, “you should do a race with us.” Kim and other teachers in the area have done running races in Kyushu before, and I was getting drafted into the group with (what was to me) a daunting challenge looming.

But reaching for the challenge proved to be well worth the effort. In August I would never have said I could do a 10K; now, I’m crazy enough to consider doing a half marathon in April. I’ll probably just do a 10K again but the thought exists and doesn’t seem unreasonable. I have the confidence to try and reach that goal, too.

I’m now under 250 pounds and continuing to lose weight and gain fitness as a runner. I’ve found something I really enjoy, an activity that's really easy to do all around the world and that is great for my health. I finished the 10K this past weekend under my goal time, and averaged 10-minute miles. Not exactly Olympic level of running, but for me, it’s an achievement. Sometimes you just need to get the ball rolling.

Heart vs. Head

Welcome back to Seattle, Junior.

One of the underlying storylines in sports in recent years has been the building movement of statistical analysis. Ever since Moneyball was released in 2003, the argument has come to the forefront and divided some lines - especially in baseball, where traditional thinkers like to judge with their eyes only. It's been gaining steam in basketball, too, in recent years, but the stronghold of "sabrmatricians" (the term for such stat-heads) is on the diamond.

Statistics say that Ken Griffey, Jr. is going to be a very, very average player for the Mariners this year, and that he should avoid seeing the field as much as possible. If you were being even more cynical, you'd say he should only ever face right-handed pitchers, too. That's what parsing through the numbers and statistics available to fans and analysts say, at least.

The romantic, the fan, the one seeking out a story, that person thinks Junior returning - quite possibly for his final season - is going to be awesome, regardless how he does this year. "He's coming home!" It's like being transported back to 1998 again, to see Griffey in teal and blue smashing home runs out of shiny, new Safeco Field and patrolling center field, pulling a Spiderman impression and leaping up against the wall to steal a home run.



That bat twitch. The effortless swing. The casual trot out of the batter's box as another home run is crushed. Sure, the memories are just that - memories, sugar-coated, and so very sweet - but if we don't have those sweet dreams as fans of sports, all we have are box scores.

I fully admit to wanting Griffey to come home to Seattle for purely selfish reasons. It's like wanting to go back and re-live the best childhood memories. I want that Ken Griffey, Jr. who was on the poster in my bedroom to walk back out on to the field when Opening Day comes, but that's a fantasy. You can't go back home in the same way again, but the nostalgia trip will be great for all involved.

Sure, statistical analysis is great - incredibly useful. But without nostalgia - great play-by-play calls, amazing images, wonderful memories - sports are almost meaningless. There's room for romanticism alongside the science.

Cash Rules Everything Around Me - Sports succumbing to the bottom line, v. 4,146,900

AC Milan midfielder Kaka, a former World Player of the Year and Ballon d'Or (European Fotballer of the Year), is the target of the most recent example of money being thrown around in sports like it's Monopoly. Photo from goalvideoz.com

"Cash rules everything around me/C.R.E.A.M. get the money/Dolla dolla bill ya'll." Arguably the best-known song from the Wu-Tang Clan's breakout debut album, "C.R.E.A.M." is also applicable as a refrain when absolutely silly amounts of money are thrown around in the world of sports.

It's applicable often nowadays, considering the amount of money teams make, what the salary caps are in American sports, the budgets of big-money NASCAR and Formula 1 racing teams, and the amount of money bidded on players in European soccer. I don't know if it's wrong or right, but there's certainly a lot of money being thrown around.

Take our boy Kaka there as seen above. He's a star playmaking midfielder for Italian giants AC Milan, lifted the Champion's League trophy in 2007, and won a World Cup as a young substitute for Brazil in 2002. He's a silky-smooth passer and dribbler without the flair of a Cristiano Ronaldo or Robinho, but the capability to drive a team from the heart of midfield. He won both the FIFA World Player of the Year and the European Footballer of the Year, the Golden Ball (Ballon d'Or), after the 2006-07 Champion's League-winning season, and is clearly a player most any team in the world would love to have in its side.

Which still doesn't quite excuse nouveau-riche Manchester City's ~$155 million bid for him (link to BBC Sports). Of course it's not the player's fault, and one would hardly blame him if he decided to accept City's offer. However, this move would more than double the record transfer fee and certainly challenge the deal New York Yankees 3B Alex Rodriguez has as the richest for a team-sports athlete in the world.


Current world transfer-record player, former France playmaker Zinedine Zidane, being introduced after Real Madrid paid Juventus 46 million pounds ($67 million) for his services

The names at the top of the record transfer list are not entirely shocking when one thinks about it. Real Madrid are the New York Yankees of international soccer; 9 European cups, nearly 30 Spanish Liga titles, and a grand history of expensive stars. Juventus are the "old lady" of Italian football, Inter are the rich little brother in Italy (well supported but falling short in title chases numerous times), Barcelona are the old enemy to Madrid in Spain and have a history of splashing cash, and Manchester United are quite possibly the best-known soccer team in the United States, thanks to star players like Cristiano Ronaldo, Wayne Rooney, and of course, at one time, David Beckham.

But two other names stand out. Manchester City, the squad looking to more than double the transfer record to sign Kaka, have already added a big-name Brazilian star in the form of Robinho, signing him from Real Madrid in August for 30 million pounds. Lazio, though - who were injected with cash in the late 1990s in order to push the Roman side into the Italian title chase - mirror Manchester City rather well, down to the traditional home colors of sky blue.


Former Lazio owner Sergio Cragnotti poses with one of the players his largesse brought to the Roman side, Czech winger Pavel Nedved.

Lazio were powered forward by the largesse of Italian food magnate Sergio Cragnotti, who spent early and often in a search for the Italian scudetto. While Lazio had always been one of Italy's "Big Six" (along with Juventus, Inter, AC Milan, AS Roma, and at times Fiorentina), Cragnotti wanted to rocket the team into the stratosphere.

The well ran dry and it left Lazio stumbling; they seem to have recovered and made the Champion's League in 2007-08, but have done so without spending huge.

Sound familiar? Manchester City were purchased in late August by a group that consists of the royal family of the city of Abu Dhabi, one of the United Arab Emirates. Oil-rich and expanding into tourism and finance to diversify its economy, Abu Dhabi's royal family has a multi-billion dollar bankroll behind them thanks to oil production. Now, they're trying to play a virtual video game with the Premier League and see if, like on the PC games, attracting all the best players in the world with lots of money will lead to success.

Of course you can't help but think of the impact this has on sports in general. If it works, and Manchester City - traditionally well-supported in England but without a great history of winning titles - qualifies for the Champion's League and challenges for titles, then the "money cheat code" method of ownership could be proven correct.

Regardless of the opulence it's representative of the sports world at large. TV money has poured into a variety of sports since the late 1960s, and with it has come an era of previously-unheard of success. The NFL practically has a license to print money in the United States - and yet ticket prices are only ever going up. Major League Baseball had 10 teams with payrolls higher than $100 million in a year, and that includes the Yankees, who broke $200 million.


The New York Yankees' Alex Rodriguez is currently the highest-paid team sport athlete in the world; will Kaka's salary match his?

What can be done about it, though? Short of salary caps staying at an equal level and nobody deciding to break the salary caps with tons of money, that is; in leagues without salary caps, like Major League Baseball and European soccer, there's nothing to it. If it works as a business decision and you can afford it, who's to stop you spending that much money? Welcome to the free economy.

It's a tough situation. Stop supporting sports because of the money being thrown around? Stop supporting the highest levels of athletics and focus on semi-pro, or more minor leagues? Or go along, wary, hoping that when the bubble bursts, your team will be in decent financial shape?

It's a tough decision. Especially as, during all great booms, it looks like the money will never dry up.

Put me in, coach

If I learned one thing from the coverage I did last week for the Trentonian of the Little League Softball World Series, it is that I am not a cynical sports writer quite yet.

I’ve been guilty of thinking that the TV production values brought to the World Series of both baseball and softball isn’t very healthy for the kids involved, but from what I saw out at Alpenrose Dairy (which sits right at the border between Portland and Beaverton) I’m fortunately a bit wrong about that. I was a bit peeved after the championship game because I needed to talk with the coach of the Robbinsville, N.J., team I had been covering, and I couldn’t get to him; however, it wasn’t because he was avoiding the press, but because the teams – including coaches and players – were all busy doing post-championship awards ceremonies.



I actually got a hold of Robbinsville coach Jim Freeman on the field right after the ceremony ended, as the LLSBWS staff was trying to rodeo all the fans, families, players and coaches on the field to engage in the world’s largest chicken dance. No, I’m not kidding. No, I did not stay, because I was on deadline. Whether that’s fortunate or unfortunate is not for me to say.



The above photo was from the semi-final game that the East representatives from Robbinsville, N.J. won; the photo below, after losing the championship game almost exactly a day later. Definitely a range of emotions.



Note that I said I interviewed the coach, not the players. I talked with some of the players after the game the night before – when they won to reach the championship – but out of respect I didn’t even think about talking to any of the girls after the game. It’s not because they’re girls – I would have done the same if I were out in Williamsport, Pennsylvania this week for the Little League baseball World Series – but because they’re 12 freaking years old. They’re not even college students, let alone high school students. After a pool play game, I saw a girl get pulled off the mound because she was starting to get tired as pitcher, get substituted out to shortstop, and missed a following play because she was crying about it. Sometimes you have to have a little sympathy about your subject matter.



I wasn’t just writing, I was also flexing my photographic muscles and shooting a sport I hadn’t shot before. It was fun; working around the limitations of my camera was an interesting challenge. Compared with the professional (or nearly professional) camera bodies some reporters and professionals were walking around with, I felt as if I was walking into a war zone with a squirt gun. Nothing like getting outgunned by gear that is easily $4000 more than my more entry-level setup.



As a photographer, I’m starting to understand the limitations to my gear and how it effects me and my work. There’s the obvious – I don’t have long enough telephoto lenses – but the other really big hurdle was my camera’s meager 2.5 frames per-second burst limit. Pro bodies push 6 FPS at least. That means you get that action shot instead of being just ahead or just behind the real moment that you need frozen in time.



At the least, though, covering softball reminded me that, yes, sports can still be fun and played “for the love of the game” – and that these top levels of youth sports have not sold out to crass commercialism. That a family and team of volunteers can still run the World Series is a wonderful thing in this era of sports-as-business.



All photos ©2008 Doug Bonham, with the full set available on Flickr available here.

This is what the Olympics needed

Usually I'm the first to really groan about media over-exposure, but sports fans have definitely benefited from the expanded coverage available the last few years. Now out-of-town fans can watch their team, albeit for a premium, and people of looser morals and greater computer technical abilities have a good crack at watching most anything they want on the plethora of international streams on the Internet.

And this has only helped out the Olympics this summer. Between coverage on all of their affiliates (CNBC, MSNBC, NBC, Universal on HD, etc.), Americans have a great deal of Olympic coverage available on TV. However, the real ace in the hole is the online coverage that streams almost every sporting event that they can through their main online hub, nbcolympics.com.

Most of the fun of the Olympics is seeing sports that you don't generally see - not even on ESPN 2 at 3 in the morning. Not even sports that gain marquee attention most every Olympics - swimming, track and field, and gymnastics standing out - but stuff like women's weight lifting, or fencing, or handball. Or badminton! I watched some of that with my dad yesterday morning and it was awesome in HD.

Not everything needs to be news

I'm so utterly tired of one of the best football players of all time right now.

Brett Favre has created a hurricane of interest in the past few months, and the eye is now settled directly on Wisconsin. I think ESPN is running a news update every time Favre sneezes or goes to the bathroom (I think John Clayton is on that beat for the World-Wide Leader). He has single-handedly stolen all of the attention away from every other team in the NFL, which is almost unfathomable.

I'm just tired of it. I'm tired of the hyper-analysis of every move in this chess game, I don't care about every single detail, and I hate that it can hijack sports news coverage so easily. I hate that there's an almost-constant "FAVRE" ticker on ESPN. I hate that I'm writing this column.

With all due respect to all the incredibly talented athletes out there, please, please, please take your contract squabbles out of the media's eye. I just don't care anymore, and I'm sure even the most hardened NFL junkies are starting to get soured. If the people around Favre hadn't started squawking to the press, if Favre himself had come out and said "I'm going to go negotiate with the team and we'll talk when I'm done," if the agents hadn't whipped everyone into a frenzy, I'd have much more sympathy of the plight of the ancient quarterback.

As it stands, this is a black mark on his legacy and a sad way to keep a fanbase chasing its tail.

It isn't just the NFL that is falling prey to this. European soccer is rife with players going to the press and trying to work their way out of deals and hogging the sports pages. Manny Ramirez just earned about two weeks worth of press coverage leading up to his deadline-day trade to the Los Angeles Dodgers. It's ridiculous.

I'm all for the freedom of player movement and in now way would I ever advocate to a return of the pre-free agency days, but come on, have some respect for your teams. I'd have more sympathy for Favre if he had kept the talk in the board rooms and between himself, his agent and the Green Bay Packers. As it is, it just stinks of attention grabbing, with the dogs baying for blood up in Bristol, CT.

I can't wait for real, meaningful football news to get started.

Why we play video games

I love sports. This is not a secret. I love to try and play sports, but - shock of shocks - like 99% of the world, I'll never be good enough of an athlete to play at the top level. Kicking around a soccer ball in the backyard pretending to win the World Cup, or taking a free throw and imagining it's to seal Game 7 of the NBA Finals for my hometown Blazers; these sort of moments are dreams, and will be nothing more.

Or, hell, the dream of being able to play like this:


On my to-buy-and-read list: the biography of Pistol Pete, called "MARAVICH."

I can't do those moves. Certainly not in a game, and I'd probably pull muscles I never knew I had stumbling over myself trying even one of them on a playground.

Video games can help you live the fantasy, live the dream. I'm not going to pretend that spending time learning a sports game is even equatable to the hard work athletes have, but damn if it isn't satisfying to pick up a game, improve, and win virtual championships, titles, score goals, dunk a basketball, throw a long-bomb touchdown pass. It's armchair virtuosity at its finest. Make-believe to the nth degree.

sports are cruel

Money makes the world go 'round.

Despite making no legitimate effort to find a solution in Seattle, Clay Bennett has weaseled a way out of the Key Arena lease for his ownership group and the Seattle SuperSonics will be no more starting next season.

Even though I'm a diehard Trail Blazers fan, I just can't be happy about this at all. Seattle has won a championship, the Sonics are the city's oldest sports franchise, and, oh yeah, there's stacks of evidence that Bennett's ownership group never attempted to reconcile their arena "problem." Never mind that Key Arena is less than 15 years old in its current incarnation (which is just older than Portland's Rose Garden, for what it's worth), and that it wouldn't take much to improve the arena to "current NBA standards," whatever those are.

I care, but it's frustrating. Sports are a business, and a rather expensive one at that. People want to make money from this. I get it. But after seeing the way Portland has turned around its franchise - namely, rebuilding ties to the community and not letting burned bridges stand in disrepair - and seeing Bennett and his set of flyover state carpetbaggers gleefully holding torches while they exit stage east, I can't help but get a bit frustrated by it all.

Oh well. I can rest assured knowing that, at the NBA owner's meeting vote back a couple months ago to let Bennett take the franchise to Oklahoma City, Portland owner Paul Allen was one of just two dissenting voices. The other? Mark Cuban. I guess my respect for the Mavericks' owner has gone up as well.

Goodbye, Sonics; I hope to see you again some day. And fuck you to whatever this franchise will be called from here on out. I hope they get a shitty nickname, it'll make them easier to hate.

the more things change

It's rather appropriate to talk about things coming full circle when I've got a head full of simple astronomy (thanks, UO for making me take basic science classes to fulfill graduation requirements!) and about half of what's been talked about the last two days involves mass and how things go around in orbits.



This time last fall, I was living with the decision to follow my Portland Trail Blazers and the Association - especially through the scope of places like Deadspin and that ever-wonderful hall of justice, Free Darko. This time last year I was living off Oklahoma win hangovers while reading FD previews of The Lig, and figuring out how to pronounce LaMarcus Aldridge. I was still grasping for hold in something new.



Now? Now, I'm trying to get out of learning mode and into the role of a sensei. I know my team inside and out; nothing is new and fresh, it's sorta played out. The rush of finding out about FD and reading a back-log of Shoals is replaced with the dull throb of a drip of material. There's no novelty factor.

But I've dealt with that before - it's just a different manifestation of a need to grasp onto a storyline in order to pay attention. I lost track of the Mariners when their season went down in flames; there was no story. Last season for me, the story was finding out about everything; this year, it's seeing how the Blazers improve, if any superstars will move (MARION WATCH WEEK THREE: ALL CLEAR ON THE WESTERN FRONT), how the Nuggets will do with a full season together, THE CELTICS, how Gil does, etc. This is, as the Masters of the Klondike always say, a league of stars and stars have stories to tell.



Meanwhile, I'm still trying to avoid going out and buying needless, overpriced but infinitely cool basketball-style ware. Seriously - look at that jacket. I think one of my roommates has the original thing circa Goodwill. Meanwhile, just to fully finish off my FD love, I think I might have to go get a 'SWAG' t-shirt from the FD Outlet. Swag at a hundred and climbin', baby.

Meanwhile, the Ducks moved up five spots without even playing. WTF. Keep on keepin' on, guys. Don't stop to smell the Roses just yet.

joy and sadness

Joy



Saturday reminded me of all that was good about college football and, by extension, sports in general. A scorching late-summer day, tens of thousands of fans wearing their school's colors (including those brave souls who dare tread on OUR HALLOWED GROUND in enemy hues), beers and burgers at the tailgate, the student section always standing and leading the noise factor, and - best of all - the home team, your team, blowing out their opponent.

The Ducks made a big push to earn even more recognition with their 52-21 blowout of Fresno State last Saturday. The same Fresno State team that took Texas A&M to the wall in three overtimes the previous week folded over like a house of cards in a hurricane against the Ducks. Even more impressive was the defense - not necessarily for the stats, but for their swarming, attacking style to pressure the line of scrimmage, harass the Bulldogs' quarterback, and shut down the run game. This was an almost-perfect game, and hopefully the team won't sit back on their laurels and pat themselves on the back too hard.

Sadness



A true rallying and auto racing legend died Sunday. Scottish-born rally racer Colin McRae passed away in a helicopter accident near his home in Scotland.

McRae - and his young son - both passed away too young (McRae himself was just 39 and still racing on occasion - his long World Rally Championship career had afforded him such a luxury as choosing what he wanted to do with his time). He was a licensed helicopter pilot and behind the sticks for the crash.

This was not the first crash in McRae's life - in fact, his nickname while still competing in rally racing was "McCrash." While this had a negative connotation, it also was given with reverence - YouTube clips abound showing McRae rolling his rally racer, kicking it back into gear and continuing to drive its nuts off. A few clips even include when he continued on a stage with just three wheels through the stage, where he could get the car fixed at the end.

Rally racing in general is hardcore - you have to be very talented and very brave to hurtle a four-wheel-drive car down narrow forest roads, sideways - and McRae was legendary for taking that stance even further. While some fans derided him for breaking machinery, those same people (and plenty of others) are heralding him for the dedication he showed in his driving style to press that hard, that close to the edge of adhesion.

Part of my auto racing viewing diet during middle and high school was WRC coverage on Speedvision (now Speed Channel), when Finland's Tommi Makkinen and Colin McRae were two juggernauts fighting for rallying supremacy. Makkinen in the Mitsubishi usually had the upper hand, but McRae was spectacular - seemingly in the lead or out of the rally. All, or nothing.



Racers like that seem to be fewer and fewer. Ayrton Senna was a god in that sense - he seemed to have super-sensory ability at judging that line. McRae may not have had as much ability as Senna, but by hell did he have more talent than most. Though he was moving more and more into the periphery of rallying and auto racing, he didn't deserve to pass on so early in life. He will be truly missed by racing fans and his family and friends.

Man, Greg Oden, why you gotta do a thing?

Nooooooooooooooooooo. No, no, no, dear god why. Between the Mariners imploding, and Oden’s knee, man, I’m one bad Ducks loss from needing 24-hour suicide watch.

Promise. The excitement of the new “big three,” Aldridge, Roy, and Oden, lasted just three months before it hit its first bump. Well, maybe the opposite of a bump, as it involves the lack of cartilage more than anything else, and I don’t know if that’d categorize as a “bump” or a “dip.” I’ll check up on that.

But still. Sam Bowie. Arvydas Sabonis. BILL WALTON. Greg Oden? Dear god, don’t tell me he’s the next Cursed Blazers Big Man. Don’t tell me there’s a curse, period, because I’m going crazy enough trying to remain calm.

I’m trying to invoke Jason Kidd, Amare Stoudemire, and Oden’s current teammate – Darius freaking Miles – trying to realize and say yes, you can come back from this with time and the right work ethic. Oden has the work ethic – now he just needs time. He just needs time. It was just a small part of the knee, and hey, there’s nothing else wrong! Nothing else. Nothing else. Nothing…

Nooooooooooooooooo whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. I think I’m officially wailing over this right now, like some goddamned widow. My first reaction was a jaw drop; the next was just sheer sadness. Writers, like The Oregonian’s John Canzano and the ever-famous Bethlehem Shoals, are musing on the ‘why’ behind reactions like my own, and I think the answer is two-fold.

One, I’m sad as HELL I won’t have the chance to see him play. If he returns for next season, there’s a very good chance I’m in Japan for his rookie year, and that sucks. But the other facet is this humanizes the kid even more. Going through such adversity (especially with the way I’d imagine he’ll go through it) makes him a more sympathetic character, especially because he is apologizing for the injury! Remarkable.

So I’ll go dry out the tear-soaked Oden jersey I picked up earlier in the summer and relax. If Amare Stoudemire can come back strong, and Jason Kidd can put up ridiculous numbers (averaging a triple-double in the first round of last year’s playoffs? Nuts!) then I think a kid who can’t even drink, with a minor version of this injury and a great work ethic, will come out fine.

With some luck, we might all just get through this together.

a weekend of highlights

stop! hammer time!

reason my weekend ruled #1: the Ducks showed up for some serious work last Saturday. I don't think I can say much more that the big sports outlets can say, but I'll add a few brief comments on the two most important areas of Oregon's game.

1. Dennis Dixon came back from playing baseball much of the summer ready to play some football. Maybe his zen-like dedication to a shitty batting average taught him that failure is acceptable? Maybe Chip Kelly's offense suits him better? Maybe he's off (or on) some medication? Maybe everything just clicked? Who knows. I'm watching for aligned stars or seventh signs. I don't care how it happened, but he looks like he's captured his form.

Now, if you can come back to me in November and I'm saying the same things, then we'll be in business. Week by week, he has to prove he can still do it - the problem last year was meltdowns mid-season.

2. The defensive line looked like it could stop somebody for once. "We eat today, coach!" tackle Jeremy Gibbs yelled during a pre-game taped part about defensive coordinator Aliotti, and boy, did they. We all knew the secondary was going to be good, and I felt the linebackers would mature well enough this year. The question is the line, and they looked, err, questionable during the Houston game.

Now, they look like they can put up a serviceable fight. And that's all we need to lock down a lot of teams. If they can keep teams to ~150 rushing yards total in a game, I'm happy.

Highlight #2: Dreamcast Day!

I don't know whether this counts as a highlight or a holiday (or both?), but yesterday was 9/9/07, which marks the eighth anniversary of the Sega Dreamcast's launch.

Why is this so important to me, you might ask? The Dreamcast was the turning point for me. This was where I matured as a gamer - before, I knew what a fighter was, now I was learning move sets for Soul Calibur and Street Fighter Alpha 3. I also started to take racing games a bit more seriously...though honestly, I look back at Sega Rally 2 and Sega GT and shake my head. Test Drive: Le Mans has held up well, though, and still warrants a good play-through, even though somehow I lost my main data save but still have an almost-complete Le Mans race...whatever.

I also matured in my knowledge of games, gaming culture, and the industry. It's no coincidence I started reading EGM in 1998; it's no coincidence that was around the point I stopped paying attention to what the EB geeks were saying at the mall. This was also the rise of the Internet; I remember IGN Dreamcast being a daily stop (back when IGN was still worth it) and lamenting EGM's lack of online presence. Oh, how little I knew about the future. Anyways. Messageboards and news sites on 56K were how I learned what gaming really was, in 2001 I signed up on a forum that I'm still a part of the community for, and I haven't turned back since.

I have the Dreamcast to thank for me being a true, hardcore gamer. Beyond the great games, beyond the innovation, it's left an indelible mark on my life - it made me hardcore. For that I will always remember Sega's little white console that could and it's rather nine-ful release date.

college football season's ruthless return

I think ESPN has finally jumped the shark and landed in the deep end: they are doing 25 straight hours of on-the-air live coverage to celebrate the start to college football season.

yeah, I barely believe it either. on the one hand, it's absurd; but on the other? AWESOME.

college football has returned; it only seems right for what is sometimes an absurd sport that ESPN would go to absurd lengths. Then again, what else inspires as much passion, spirit, pride and vitriol as college football? In the United States, absolutely nothing, on a regular, nationwide basis; sure, Yankees-Red Sox, Dodgers-Giants, Spurs-Anyone in the NBA, etc., etc....but college football rivalries and passion aren't limited to certain areas; it's nationwide.

as a full-bore West Coast homer, I can say with certainty that, yes, we care just as much as the South does about college football; maybe we just don't go to the same extremes as they do, but the passion exists. Nothing else quite gets the Northwest in the same sort of lather, short of a Seahawks Super Bowl run.

And now it has returned. I still have a day of putting finishing touches on The Emerald's "GameDay" football supplementals, and I have a wedding to take care of this weekend...but dammit, college football is back, and if our satellite TV isn't upgraded in time, I'm going to get pissed....and possibly unhook the satellite, re-hook some bunny ears, and hope I get reception.

by the way, I'd be a bad Oregon fan if I didn't post this:



Best. Clip. EVAR.

around the horn, sports edition

so a sports-specific update: lots has been going on (and I've been writing about a good deal of it), so let's cover some bases and update some stories...

Mariners defying all odds, now just 3.5 games out



Or, "maybe I should ride the Mariners hard in columns some more." I wrote one hell of a worried column about the Mariners last week, and what happened after that? 8-game win streak (!), one of my two season wishes comes true and Hargrove resigns (!!)...and then they regress to form, get kicked in the balls twice in KC but JARED FREAKING WASHBURN shut out the Royals to get the last game of the series today.

This is where I raise my hands in futility, say "fuck it" and put my Mariners hat back on. You know, I'll take winning 9 out of 11 - including eight straight against two of the top teams in the AL, the BoSox and the Blue Jays - no matter how it happens. All I want for it is to keep happening.

Oregon explodes, Rip City is back



I believe I called this one. Okay, that's not exactly a call, as much as it is a written orgasm, but stick with me here.

The point is that not only do I as a person who's a Trail Blazers fan (not to mention a fan of my hometown - PDX 4 LYFE... or something like that) feel excitement from this, but I can sense it welling up and coming to a head in Portland. The city's opinion about the team has completely turned around in a two year span, and I simply can't believe it. Now I want to buy a Blazers jersey; now I'm proud to be a fan of the only pro sports franchise in the state.

I just can't wait for the ride to start in early November. Gotta get to a few games next year for sure.

Hello, goodbye



Just as I've welcomed one massively talented star onto one of my teams, another takes off searching for pastures new. Yep, Thierry Henry - one of my all-time favorite athletes and one-time captain of my soccer team, Arsenal - has taken off for Barcelona.

I harbor little ill will. He's done so much for the team, the team has done so much for him...it's just saddening is all. Maybe I'm the nostalgic type who wanted to see him finish his career as a Gunner, but hell, what else does he have to prove here? I don't know. I don't know.

It's like dealing with a bad break-up...you're never quite sure how to feel afterwards. I doubt, however, that if he were to return to Highbury Emirates Stadium next year in a Champions League match, he'd get the same reception as Ken Griffey, Jr. got in Seattle a few weeks ago.

HELL YES

He looks like a 40-year-old...he's dominated the college game WITH HIS OFF HAND...and he's younger than me...


(image from trailblazers.com/nba.com)

THE BLAZERS WIN THE DRAFT! THE BLAZERS WIN THE DRAFT!



MOTHERFUCKING GREG ODEN WILL BE A BLAZER!!!!!

NOTHING can take this away from me right now. NOTHING.

can't we all get along?

Two logos, same school, very different meanings

There is a metaphorical and literal divide here at the University of Oregon between the academic and athletic sides. Divided by close to a mile's walk and a river, the main campus and the athletic department housed near Autzen Stadium epitomize an argument being made all across the United States in large colleges and universities: Are athletics more important than academics to a university? Should they take a precedent?

Yes and no. Yes, as athletic department budgets have skyrocketed (Oregon's budget has increased from $15 million in 1994 to more than $41 million this year), obviously the importance of top athletic departments (and, let's face it, that means the profit sports - football and men's basketball) are very important as marketing tools and ways to keep alumni involved. No, athletics are not more important than the studying being done on campus, but it is in my honest opinion as a college student that professors have FAR more important things to worry about distracting students than a football game during dead week.

It is indeed over games during "Dead Week" (specifically the weekend right before finals hosting the annual Civil War game against Oregon State, moved there due to a game being moved to Thursday night for television schedules) that the argument has returned to the spotlight on campus. And my view echoes that of many other students: this isn't the end of the world, as many professors have thought, and won't mean the end of academic credibility; let's face it, college students will find ways to distract themselves from studying for finals. Hell, it was my opinion freshman year that if I didn't have a Monday final or paper due, that was just one more day for partying - bonus!

And let's throw any argument of "retaining academic purity" (or anything along those lines) for
the student-athletes right out of the window; not only do they have much more academic help than the average student, for many of them they are athletes first and students second. This isn't to say that all of the players on the profit sports aren't here to get an education, just that the reality of college sports has shifted some priorities; not bad, not good, just different.

However, it is a worrying sign, especially here in Eugene. While there are signs that show that alumni who donate to athletics also donate to academics, the fact that it seems influence is being wielded by a select few is worrying. It's always worrying in any other facet of life, but in such a vulnerable time and place things could turn ugly soon.

I understand that it doesn't make professors look quite as good to their colleagues when the priorities seem to shift like this; however, the focus needs to be more on students - the ones who come here to get an education, and a very good education it is still - and the reality is that major athletic programs only add to college experience and can never take away. If a student can't get their act together around the Civil War game for finals week, they wouldn't be able to get their act together when left to their own devices to find a means of procrastination; the problem isn't the game, it's on the individual's priorities.

get your motor runnin'

One day, my car will get onto the inside of Portland Int'l Raceway and see some action. Until then, it will wait with baited breath. Photo by Doug Bonham.

It's no secret at all that I love sports. And another fact for sports fans is that, oftentimes, what inspires a young man or woman to follow sports is a link from a parent - I'm partially a baseball fan because it came from my dad, just as my dad was a baseball fan because his dad was. For many Americans this comes for basketball, football, or baseball...not as often does it come up for auto racing.

There are two hobbies I've had for longer than I can literally remember: cars and auto racing, and video games. When I go to races now and see fathers with their little sons, who have great big earphones to protect their ears, I get both nostalgic and a little jealous - nostalgic, because I remember when that was me, and jealous because I wish I had that sweet ear protection back in the day; I just had ear plugs, which rarely worked (now, though, I go au natural. Ear plugs are for wusses).



It was over 100 degrees, and a Saturday after a week of 100-degree days, but I still loved seeing the ALMS last year. Shame I was one of about 20 people there. Photo by Doug Bonham

As with many other aspects of my life, my relationship with auto racing rotates around an axis of love and hate. I love the American Le Mans Series and Champ Cars; I hate that they draw about as well as a Vanilla Ice cover band. I love following Formula 1 racing from around the world, but hate how much it costs: not only in even dreaming of traveling to a race, but in how much digital cable costs to receive the network that carries F1 in the US, SPEED Channel (strangely, it's on basic cable both on the Oregon coast and in the Columbia River Gorge; yes, both my grandparents have SPEED, while I don't. SHIT).

This means I turn into something of a junkie when it comes to watching actual racing on TV. I knew the Champ Car race was going to be on ESPN Sunday afternoon, but it started earlier than I thought it would; when my roommates (flipping between baseball, playoff basketball, and bad movies on TNT and Comedy Central) hit ESPN and the race, I went berserk. "LEAVE IT HERE" I almost screamed, foam spewing out and hitting the screen and my roommates.

of course they didn't understand. To them, and many of the uninitiated masses, auto racing is simple: how hard is it to drive a car around a track? Well, it's pretty damned difficult to do that for nearly two hours and do it quickly, but that's another argument. The aesthetics to watching racing are a bit more subtle; it's not as immediately rewarding, but watching a really good battle for position is as rewarding as anything else in sports. Much like with soccer, it's not the frequency of actual scoring (or passes) that matters, it's the build up: watching two drivers (or more sometimes) dicing for position before a decisive pass is attempted.

this is one of two legs upon which I stand and loathe NASCAR: passing is cheapened to the point where it is unrewarding and almost counter-productive to watch a full NASCAR race. The other leg is its horrible spread of commercialization; F1 handles their commercial side much better, while involving as many (if not more) blue-chip companies in the process. NASCAR is the carnival-caller mentality blown up ad naseum, which the NFL suffers from as well to a certain degree.

I still harbor dreams of doing some amateur SCCA autocrossing and light-caliber racing with my own car at a later date, but that's almost going to be another lifetime from now. Until then, though, I will follow auto racing with the eye of somebody mature enough to understand politics and savvy enough to understand the subtleties of the sport, while maintaining the wide-eyed youthful enthusiasm I've had ever since I first stepped foot at Portland International Raceway with my dad to see the Indy Cars.

chips on shoulders and history

First thing's first: the Ducks take their two games in slightly more-dramatic-than-necessary style in Spokane, and march on to meet UNLV (quoth Billups, "RUNNIN' REBS KEEP RUNNIN'") in the Sweetness that is Sixteen.

so there's the nuts and bolts. Two issues to tackle, though, and both deal with my neurotic fandom of the Ducks (and, really, sports in general).


you know, I'm amazed he can jump so high with his teammates on his back. AB rising up in Spokane. Photo: John Givot, Daily Emerald

when it comes to sports analysis, there is only one real rule I try and take seriously: Less is more. Hyper overanalysis of trends and history can only produce so many positive results. You can’t take historic trends too seriously, because those are not the teams on the field right now and I’d wager many of those players don’t give a crap about who did what 14 years ago. Rivalries are one thing - banking on Team A losing to Team B because they’ve lost on the road to Team A 14 of the last 16 meetings, including seven in a row, is asinine. I try and avoid it at all costs.

At the same time, though, as a sports fan I have a healthy streak of militant superstition.

imagine how torn I am seeing a post like this, which is from sports blog Just Call Me Juice and was blogrolled this morning by Deadspin. Click through and find the similarities shocking.

how the hell am I supposed to reconcile that? History repeats, yes, but the Ducks don’t have the major size and assured lock-down defense Florida had (and still has); however, the signs are there…but for the Ducks to get to the Final Four the Gators would have to lose, either to Butler or Oregon in an Elite Eight matchup.

If anything can save my sanity, it's this:

Don't believe the hype...OR the Pac-10.

Digger, Pat Forde, and most any other mother fucker with a suit and an ESPN paycheck has pulled against us against Winthrop and now against those Runnin' Rebs. minus Andy Katz, who loves him some Oregon basketball for one reason or another, but still: how is it that only one guy (who might or might not be a homer) is taking the HIGH seed in this game? Since when did a higher seed get so disrespected?

Fuck, I tried to not do that but did you SEE WHAT I JUST DID THERE? Yeah, evoking ghosts of last season. Re-insert some above paragraphs on mind-fucks and fandom as you will.

However, here's the crazy thing: I don't care that the talking heads don't like what we're doing, because you know what? The Ducks *need* that pressure, or otherwise they'll become like my lazy, pot-smoking roommate: enough talent to do whatever he damn well pleases, but no motivation. Right or wrong, the Ducks' motivation comes from being underdogs, and I'll be damned how a team that was at one time No. 7 in all the land can be regarded as an underdog against a Mountain West powerhouse, but hey, if that's what gets a W on Friday, that's what matters.

now back to what apparently really matters: digging myself so far into Japanese studying I'm dreaming of kanji radicals in my sleep.

eye of the tiger, cutting down the nets

can't stop the rock

Bryce Taylor must have woken up Saturday morning in LA, looked in the mirror and said: it's time. He must have had the steely eyed determination and the "O" logo in his eye, just like they edit in for the pre-game videos for Duck football games on the jumbotron - except that was REAL.

because I have never seen such an unconscious performance in a basketball game, both by a team AND by a single player.

Bryce did not miss a shot Saturday afternoon. Think about that: go outside and take ten shots at a basketball hoop and see how many you miss; add in the pressure situation BT was in - conference title game? check - and, oh yeah, defense...for those that don't know, shooting 50% in a game is ridiculous, so not missing?

quoth NBA Jam: He's On FIRE!

It must be the shoes, then. So it is decided.

learning to fly

you ever see that credit card ad, where it has people and everything going "Someday..." and has this puppy awkwardly skating through a kitchen, with graphic text going "Someday, a back lawn"?

yeah, cute puppy, right? Focus on the puppy, keep that puppy in mind, for that puppy is fully representative of the Portland Trail Blazers.


"you may be 'so fresh,' but you're not 'so fresh comma so clean clean"

its obvious I have a deep love of my hometown team; I believe the technical term is "homer." Regardless, if this were the Portland, Maine Trail Blazers we'd be up near the top of the Leastern Conference, Zach Randolph would be an All-Star, and Brandon R.O.Y. would already have had his coronation as R.O.Y. The East is weak, and that teams like Boston and the Knicks get press coverage is due to location and history as opposed to talent.

the history might be debatable (this is where Clyde the Glide, Arvydas Sabonis, 'Sheed, etc. all drop down and remind you about the 20-plus year playoff stretch, AS IF YOU FORGOT), but the West Coast Snubs are not. If this team was in a bigger media market, it'd be all over the press; as it is, we're stuck in above-average mediocrity, not doing well enough to warrant "Cinderella Story" press coverage, not doing poorly enough to slip into the ping-pong ball mire. Without the Toronto Raptor-esque playoff run (wholly due to the weak division they play in), the Blazers are the quiet before the storm; they are the silence before the storm.

They will probably be the Jazz two years from now, except young and without Jerry Sloan.


spraying passes like a spanish steve nash

the mix of talented youngsters (three out of five starters are in their first or second years in the Association), good team chemistry multiplied by being good human beings (Mike Barrett's blog has mentioned them joking that they're "Choir boys" on the team plane) and a town that will eat both up means the West should look out next year. Let's break down some positions here:

-Jarrett Jack: I've got to admit, it's getting better; it's getting better all the time.
-Brandon Roy: R.O.Y. ain't nothing to fuck with.
-Ime Udoka: Perfect glue guy and 6th man next year.
-LaMarcus Aldridge: I already have two alternate last-names for him: Awesome and All-Star. He's certainly going to be that.
-Zach Randolph: ...is this good without playing defense. Yikes.
-Sergio Rodriguez: Once he gets more confidence in his shot, and gets fully on the same page as the team, will be AWESOME. Keep in mind he's 9 months younger than *me* and playing in the NBA.
-Two-headed white center: Needs to be more consistent and less injured.
-Darius: Needs to go away, now.

So, really, all we're looking at is getting more production out of the walking wounded and figuring out how big the tab is going to be to get Miles out of town. Everything else is on the up-and-up.

I think I can deal with that.

I don't know if the league can, yet, though.

I usually hate to parrot PR/marketing campaigns, but hell, the 'Zers have a good line up on their web site right now: Right coach, right team, right direction. Of course it's the right time to be a season ticket holder; sunshine, rainbows, and fucking Rip City coming back. It's a fresh morning.


women go crazy for a sharp-dressed man

[bill simmons]you could go into war with a man like that leading you.[/simmons]