Today was my first "official" run, that is the first to be recorded in this journal. Coincidentally, this was also my first run off of a treadmill in around 6 months. Up to this point, every run I've done in the last 6 months (all 4 of them) has been on a treadmill in our complex. When I was training for the Hood to Coast the first time, I did a lot of my training on a treadmill in the complex of one of my friends. His treadmill was infinitely better than the one here. Before assuming (like I did before I started running on the one here) that all treadmill running is the same, think about the difference between running on a treadmill while looking out of a window versus running on a treadmill while looking at a mirror. I think you can probably guess what I have at the complex here.
When you're running on a treadmill, the best thing you can possibly have to keep you sane is any kind of distraction. Treadmill running sucks, we all know it. But if it's the only kind of running you have time for, you need something to keep you from remembering what you're actually doing for the 15 minutes to an hour or more that you're running. With a window in front of you, you have an instant distraction. No matter what you're watching, even if it's the gardener weedwhacking outside, you're in a constant state of distraction. You can look at your mileage or your calories burned, but it's all at your discretion.
Now think about running on a treadmill while looking at a mirror. If you've never done this before, I'll give you a short transcript of my thought processes while I'm running on the treadmill here:
"This sucks...Why am I sweating so much? I just started running two minutes ago. Why are my arms jiggling like Kelly Clarkson's? What kind of straight guy compares his arms to Kelly Clarkson's? What kind of straight guy compares any part of his body to Kelly Clarkson? Why am I thinking about Kelly Clarkson?..."
Two words- BAD NEWS. It's on the same level as waterboarding- torture or not, it's a nasty way to punish someone.
The only possible escape from watching yourself slowly perspire and degrade is to look at the mileage. But this is even worse! Try running a mile on a treadmill while doing nothing but watching your mileage slowly creep up. I guarantee it will seem like the slowest mile you've ever run.
Fast forward to last night. My girlfriend and I had dinner with our friend Brian, who I recently recruited to become the twelfth member of the Hood to Coast team. I asked Brian how his training was going and he basically told me that he felt he would be ready to run the race today if he had to. Instantly, I decided that I would take the first real step to getting ready for the race in the morning. What I forgot was that this decision was made right before eating pounds (literally) of spicy shrimp, crayfish, and sausages. So when I took the first step this morning, I was instantly reminded of my poor eating choices.
That said, the run could have gone worse. I think that the most important thing after a run is to pull a positive from it. I know, I know. Cheesy. Still, I think it's true. Without any kind of positive, what's your incentive to ever lace up your running shoes again? It doesn't always have to be something huge like "I just broke 5 minute mile pace for 3 miles" or "I just beat that Kenyan guy next door who won the Dallas Marathon last week." Pulling the smallest positive can be all you need to do it again the next time, even if it's as bleak as "Well, I got hit by a bus and broke my hip, but at least I got out there!"
So here's my positive: I finished. I may have felt like I was running uphill the entire run. I may have had a bus downshift right as it passed me and fill my lungs with exhaust. The high point of the actual run may have been seeing an ad on a bus bench on which someone had blacked out a realtor's teeth so he looked like a pirate. The low point may have been having a 50+ year old Mexican woman clutching a huge purse pass me with no effort in an attempt to catch a bus. But I finished. Run 1 is complete.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Hooray Running! Hooray Beer!
In a few months, I'm going to be running the Hood to Coast race for the second time. While I couldn't be more excited about the race itself, I find myself now with three months until the race begins and with only a handful of runs under my belt. Not good. Something has to change before the race begins and I'm thinking that maybe I can use writing as a motivation for my running. From now on, every time I run, it's going on here. My posts may not be super exciting or super long, but hopefully they will become a motivation for me and, if I look on here and notice a lack of posts about running, I'll know to get out and run again. That's my hope. We'll see how it goes.
So where does the "Hooray Beer!" part come in? For a while, I've been looking for a theme of some sort for my blog. While "random" is sort of a theme, I've kind of been wanting to take on something a little more specific. I didn't want to just turn this blog into a running journal (boring), and I didn't want to just turn this into a beer blog (done before). So, I figured why not do both? Therefore, the name of the blog is hereby changed to "Hooray Running! Hooray Beer!" One of these is a real "hooray" (for now). Hopefully by the time Hood to Coast comes around, both of these will be real"hoorays".
You may think that running and beer don't (or shouldn't) have anything in common, but they do for me. The point of this blog is that (hopefully) by the time the race comes around, I'll know a lot more about both running and beer. I've loved beer for a long time but I've never known much about what I was drinking. Don't get me wrong, I can tell a lager apart from a lambic, but I want to really learn about beer and the process of brewing. As I learn more about beer, I'll post my new knowledge on here, along with reviews of all of the beers I try along the way. And as far as posting random things like I've been doing up to this point, I may still throw in a few every once in a while.
So there you have it. Running and beer: A bad combination for most, but not for me. Maybe I need to work on that slogan.
So where does the "Hooray Beer!" part come in? For a while, I've been looking for a theme of some sort for my blog. While "random" is sort of a theme, I've kind of been wanting to take on something a little more specific. I didn't want to just turn this blog into a running journal (boring), and I didn't want to just turn this into a beer blog (done before). So, I figured why not do both? Therefore, the name of the blog is hereby changed to "Hooray Running! Hooray Beer!" One of these is a real "hooray" (for now). Hopefully by the time Hood to Coast comes around, both of these will be real"hoorays".
You may think that running and beer don't (or shouldn't) have anything in common, but they do for me. The point of this blog is that (hopefully) by the time the race comes around, I'll know a lot more about both running and beer. I've loved beer for a long time but I've never known much about what I was drinking. Don't get me wrong, I can tell a lager apart from a lambic, but I want to really learn about beer and the process of brewing. As I learn more about beer, I'll post my new knowledge on here, along with reviews of all of the beers I try along the way. And as far as posting random things like I've been doing up to this point, I may still throw in a few every once in a while.
So there you have it. Running and beer: A bad combination for most, but not for me. Maybe I need to work on that slogan.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Finding Humor in Horror
In 2002 the movie "The Ring" came out in theaters. Up until then, I had never seen a real horror movie. The movie generated a lot of buzz when it came out and after hearing how scary it was from a lot of friends, I decided to go see it. To this day, I don't think a movie has ever scared me as much as "The Ring" did.
Since then (and largely because of how much I enjoyed "The Ring") I have become absolutely hooked on horror movies. Up until a few days ago, I assumed horror movies were so appealing to me because of their originality as a genre. Fans of horror movies love being scared. We go to a horror film hoping that it's going to give us a sort of rush without subjecting ourselves to any real physical danger. A horror movie isn't going to give you the warm and fuzzies like a romantic comedy; it's not going to get you pumped like an action movie; it's not going to make you feel exhilarated like an adventure movie. A horror movie is (hopefully) going to scare the crap out of you. And that's how the fans like it. Or that's what I thought. Then, a few days ago, (don't ask me why) I was thinking if there wasn't something beyond just being scared that would bring so many fans to this genre. And then I thought of it- Schadenfreude.
By now, I'm pretty sure almost everyone knows what schadenfreude is- taking pleasure from the misfortunes of others. We've always loved this, even if it only recently became part of most of our vocabularies. Think of "America's Funniest Home Videos." Growing up, I loved watching AFHV. There were literally not enough ways for guys to get kicked in the balls and for people to light themselves on fire to keep me entertained.
What do AFHV and the genre of horror have in common? More than you'd think. For one, there's almost always the perception that the person who is getting hurt or embarrassed (or killed in the movies) "deserved" it. If someone is walking in front of the camera and another person runs in and kicks them in the balls, it may be funny to some (the "Jackass" crowd), but usually not to people who watch AFHV. However, if someone is about to do something that everyone knows is a bad idea (and especially if they say something like "Hey guys, watch this!" first), and it results in them getting hit in the balls, then it's funny.
In horror movies, you have things that I like to call "the givens." Pretty much, if you do one of these during the course of a horror movie, you're toast.
1. Leaving the main group- There is literally nothing that "the killer" loves better than picking off people when they're stupid enough to wander off.
2. Saying "I'll be right back"-...no you won't.
3. Having sex- Hope it was good because you're probably not ever doing that again.
4. Dropping your keys when you're trying to get into a car- Just never a good idea.
5. Getting a flat tire- This is almost always going to lead into something that isn't going to go well for you.
6. Being Paris Hilton- If you saw "House of Wax," you know that it can be tough being Paris.
7. Being a bully- I have a theory that most horror writers were bullied and/or always picked last in their P.E. classes and that their scripts are really just their ongoing fantasies about what they would do to their aggressors if they were given the chance.
8. Being the romantic interest of the protagonist- You may think you’re a Casanova, but chances are, you’re about to be Casa-ovah. Ok, bad joke. But seriously, if the main character falls in love with you, chances are, you’re done for.
9. Taking a shower- Think “Psycho” or “The Grudge.” Usually when a pretty girl goes into a shower in a horror film, she doesn’t come out looking quite as “pretty”.
10. Being a minority- I’ll be honest, I wasn’t going to include this one. However, when I was thinking of the “givens” I couldn’t help but notice that nearly every minority in American horror films gets killed off. Usually, they make the mistake of committing one of the other “givens” first, so the director has “reason” to kill them off. Still, kind of strange that I can’t remember the last American horror movie where a minority made it all the way to the credits.
So what do the givens mean as far as “schadenfreude” goes? Whether we like to admit it or not, we like to judge, and horror movies are the perfect arena for it. If a character does something stupid, then we as an audience blame them for their idiocy and infer that they “deserved to die.” This leads to “schadenfruede”- A character who is clearly an idiot or jerk gets killed off in a gruesome way and we subconsciously laugh because he/she “deserved” it. If we want to hear about people getting killed who did nothing wrong we can turn on the news. If we want to see people get killed who “deserve” it, we watch a horror movie. Now, in reality do these people really deserve to die? Simply put, no. You decide if this type of logic makes any sense. Here are some examples of things horror fans would say to the characters who get killed off in a horror film if they could:
“Well maybe if you and Miss March didn’t have sex in an abandoned barn, you wouldn’t both be hanging from meat hooks right now.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t pantsed the main character in the opening scene you wouldn’t be eating your own entrails right now.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t gotten a flat tire you wouldn’t be in six pieces.”
Alright, stop. I’m not condoning sex in abandoned barns or pantsing at all, but if I saw someone do these things, my first instinct wouldn’t be to kill them. What does it really come down to then? Here’s my theory. The biggest reason we go to the movies is to be entertained. While we love a story that intrigues us and makes us think, with 10 movies coming out a week, we’ve lowered our expectations. And what’s the next best thing to a good plot? Characters that are relatable. I think that what our reasoning really boils down to is a need to relate to the killer. If we can get the tiniest glimpse of reasoning behind the killer’s actions, we can have enough justification to watch them wreak havoc on (fill in the name of a bland sounding tiny town) for an hour and a half.
Recently, there has been a stretch of horror films where the killer’s actions have absolutely no justification. For the most part, these are the kind of horror movies that I don’t really like. Though this may go back as far as movies like "The Exorcist," if I had to pick a film that started the trend in the mainstream, it would probably be “Saw.” In “Saw,” the killer kidnaps people who lead lifestyles of addiction and tries to get them to realize the value of life through a sick game in which they will die if they lose. The story behind “Saw” was definitely interesting, but “Saw” is far from the fun feel that horror movies like “Scream” have. The last movie I saw that didn’t justify the killer’s actions was one called “The Strangers.” The plot of “The Strangers” is basically three villains picking a house at random to terrorize. The inhabitants of the house (Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman) have done absolutely nothing wrong and probably behave exactly as any of us would have in their situation. Perhaps the appeal of movies like this is how real they are (the strangers is actually based on a true story). But maybe that’s not the best direction for the genre to go. It seems that the horror genre has split into two camps- one which likes pure horror with nothing in the way, and one which likes some entertainment and humor thrown in along the way.
For me, and for most other people who like “schadenfreude,” horror is a genre that is at its best when it doesn’t take itself too seriously. “Funny” and “scary” don’t seem like things that should go together, but they couldn’t be more important to a good horror movie. We need the humor to lighten the mood and settle our nerves until the director is ready to scare us again. Whether you’re a member of the “schadenfreude” horror camp (like me) or the pure terror camp, I think we can all agree that horror is an important and overlooked genre. And even if we can’t agree on whether or not “the givens” should be included in new horror films, I think we can agree that there’s one thing that horror films can do without: Paris Hilton.
Since then (and largely because of how much I enjoyed "The Ring") I have become absolutely hooked on horror movies. Up until a few days ago, I assumed horror movies were so appealing to me because of their originality as a genre. Fans of horror movies love being scared. We go to a horror film hoping that it's going to give us a sort of rush without subjecting ourselves to any real physical danger. A horror movie isn't going to give you the warm and fuzzies like a romantic comedy; it's not going to get you pumped like an action movie; it's not going to make you feel exhilarated like an adventure movie. A horror movie is (hopefully) going to scare the crap out of you. And that's how the fans like it. Or that's what I thought. Then, a few days ago, (don't ask me why) I was thinking if there wasn't something beyond just being scared that would bring so many fans to this genre. And then I thought of it- Schadenfreude.
By now, I'm pretty sure almost everyone knows what schadenfreude is- taking pleasure from the misfortunes of others. We've always loved this, even if it only recently became part of most of our vocabularies. Think of "America's Funniest Home Videos." Growing up, I loved watching AFHV. There were literally not enough ways for guys to get kicked in the balls and for people to light themselves on fire to keep me entertained.
What do AFHV and the genre of horror have in common? More than you'd think. For one, there's almost always the perception that the person who is getting hurt or embarrassed (or killed in the movies) "deserved" it. If someone is walking in front of the camera and another person runs in and kicks them in the balls, it may be funny to some (the "Jackass" crowd), but usually not to people who watch AFHV. However, if someone is about to do something that everyone knows is a bad idea (and especially if they say something like "Hey guys, watch this!" first), and it results in them getting hit in the balls, then it's funny.
In horror movies, you have things that I like to call "the givens." Pretty much, if you do one of these during the course of a horror movie, you're toast.
1. Leaving the main group- There is literally nothing that "the killer" loves better than picking off people when they're stupid enough to wander off.
2. Saying "I'll be right back"-...no you won't.
3. Having sex- Hope it was good because you're probably not ever doing that again.
4. Dropping your keys when you're trying to get into a car- Just never a good idea.
5. Getting a flat tire- This is almost always going to lead into something that isn't going to go well for you.
6. Being Paris Hilton- If you saw "House of Wax," you know that it can be tough being Paris.
7. Being a bully- I have a theory that most horror writers were bullied and/or always picked last in their P.E. classes and that their scripts are really just their ongoing fantasies about what they would do to their aggressors if they were given the chance.
8. Being the romantic interest of the protagonist- You may think you’re a Casanova, but chances are, you’re about to be Casa-ovah. Ok, bad joke. But seriously, if the main character falls in love with you, chances are, you’re done for.
9. Taking a shower- Think “Psycho” or “The Grudge.” Usually when a pretty girl goes into a shower in a horror film, she doesn’t come out looking quite as “pretty”.
10. Being a minority- I’ll be honest, I wasn’t going to include this one. However, when I was thinking of the “givens” I couldn’t help but notice that nearly every minority in American horror films gets killed off. Usually, they make the mistake of committing one of the other “givens” first, so the director has “reason” to kill them off. Still, kind of strange that I can’t remember the last American horror movie where a minority made it all the way to the credits.
So what do the givens mean as far as “schadenfreude” goes? Whether we like to admit it or not, we like to judge, and horror movies are the perfect arena for it. If a character does something stupid, then we as an audience blame them for their idiocy and infer that they “deserved to die.” This leads to “schadenfruede”- A character who is clearly an idiot or jerk gets killed off in a gruesome way and we subconsciously laugh because he/she “deserved” it. If we want to hear about people getting killed who did nothing wrong we can turn on the news. If we want to see people get killed who “deserve” it, we watch a horror movie. Now, in reality do these people really deserve to die? Simply put, no. You decide if this type of logic makes any sense. Here are some examples of things horror fans would say to the characters who get killed off in a horror film if they could:
“Well maybe if you and Miss March didn’t have sex in an abandoned barn, you wouldn’t both be hanging from meat hooks right now.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t pantsed the main character in the opening scene you wouldn’t be eating your own entrails right now.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t gotten a flat tire you wouldn’t be in six pieces.”
Alright, stop. I’m not condoning sex in abandoned barns or pantsing at all, but if I saw someone do these things, my first instinct wouldn’t be to kill them. What does it really come down to then? Here’s my theory. The biggest reason we go to the movies is to be entertained. While we love a story that intrigues us and makes us think, with 10 movies coming out a week, we’ve lowered our expectations. And what’s the next best thing to a good plot? Characters that are relatable. I think that what our reasoning really boils down to is a need to relate to the killer. If we can get the tiniest glimpse of reasoning behind the killer’s actions, we can have enough justification to watch them wreak havoc on (fill in the name of a bland sounding tiny town) for an hour and a half.
Recently, there has been a stretch of horror films where the killer’s actions have absolutely no justification. For the most part, these are the kind of horror movies that I don’t really like. Though this may go back as far as movies like "The Exorcist," if I had to pick a film that started the trend in the mainstream, it would probably be “Saw.” In “Saw,” the killer kidnaps people who lead lifestyles of addiction and tries to get them to realize the value of life through a sick game in which they will die if they lose. The story behind “Saw” was definitely interesting, but “Saw” is far from the fun feel that horror movies like “Scream” have. The last movie I saw that didn’t justify the killer’s actions was one called “The Strangers.” The plot of “The Strangers” is basically three villains picking a house at random to terrorize. The inhabitants of the house (Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman) have done absolutely nothing wrong and probably behave exactly as any of us would have in their situation. Perhaps the appeal of movies like this is how real they are (the strangers is actually based on a true story). But maybe that’s not the best direction for the genre to go. It seems that the horror genre has split into two camps- one which likes pure horror with nothing in the way, and one which likes some entertainment and humor thrown in along the way.
For me, and for most other people who like “schadenfreude,” horror is a genre that is at its best when it doesn’t take itself too seriously. “Funny” and “scary” don’t seem like things that should go together, but they couldn’t be more important to a good horror movie. We need the humor to lighten the mood and settle our nerves until the director is ready to scare us again. Whether you’re a member of the “schadenfreude” horror camp (like me) or the pure terror camp, I think we can all agree that horror is an important and overlooked genre. And even if we can’t agree on whether or not “the givens” should be included in new horror films, I think we can agree that there’s one thing that horror films can do without: Paris Hilton.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Still My #1
Tiger Woods is still my favorite golfer.
I can see why people give me funny looks (and sometimes disgusted looks) when I say this. A lot of people, my roommate included, think there must be something wrong with me. "Really? After all that he's done?" people say. Really, and here's why.
First of all, let me make one thing clear: In no way am I defending Tiger for cheating on his wife. It's something that rightly made a lot of people mad and it's something that he's going to have to deal with in private (and in public) for a long time. Simply put, he screwed up. But here's my question: does he really deserve all that he's had to put up with since the truth came out?
Up to Tiger's crash in late November last year, he had been in the tabloids about as much as I have. After all, he's a golfer, how exciting could his personal life be? After the crash, we got our answer: very exciting. Soon, he was being bombarded by paparazzi and media and his life got a whole lot crazier.
Question: Can you remember any non-politician getting this much media attention for cheating on his wife?
The last athlete I can remember getting attention like this was Kobe Bryant during his rape case. But Kobe was being accused of a crime. There was nothing criminal about what Tiger was doing. Morally wrong? Yes. Criminally? No. So why would Tiger get so much attention when he didn't break any laws? Two reasons.
Reason 1: He's Tiger Woods. Tiger is probably the most famous athlete in the world. He's sport's first $1 billion dollar man and he's a notoriously private person. If you're a member of the paparazzi and you're looking to go after someone big, there's no one bigger than Tiger. Once the paparazzi smelled blood, it was all over.
Reason 2: He plays golf. Golfers are the pretty boys of the sports world. Think of every sports scandal you can before Tiger's. Did any of them happen in golf? Football has people like Brandon Marshall,Terrell Owens, and (fill in the blank) of the Cincinnati Bengals. Baseball has Milton Bradley and Roger Clemens. Cycling has Floyd Landis. Skiing has Bode Miller. Basketball has Ron Artest and Kenyon Martin. Sports are supposed to have their bad boys. Can you think of one golfer (besides John Daly) who has made a headline for anything besides winning a golf tournament? Golfers are supposed to be boring. They're not supposed to have wild secret lives. But Tiger did and he's getting shelled for it. What's strange about this is that athletes in every sport cheat on their wives. And yet how many athletes have been forced to hold news conferences to confess to cheating?
I know what you're thinking, So he's still your favorite golfer...why? Glad you asked.
I started playing golf in 1996. Coincidentally, this was the same year that a young golfer named Tiger Woods turned pro. A year later, he won his first major championship: The Masters. I remember hearing a lot about Tiger and once I started watching him, I knew there was something different about him. For one thing, he didn't seem like a golfer. Tiger had an intensity to him that I had never seen in anyone else. I was just getting into golf, and I had always thought (like so many other people) that golf was a boring sport to watch on TV. However, I found myself glued to the TV whenever Tiger was playing. It didn't matter if it was The Masters or the Byron Nelson, I was watching if Tiger was playing. Maybe he didn't always win, but you knew that at some point during the round, he was going to do something special. It was like watching a hockey game because you wanted to see a fight. Maybe the rest wasn't nail-biting, but you knew at some point, it was coming. And when it did, you could always count on Tiger react in the perfect way. You never knew exactly how it was going to go down. Was he going to unleash his trademarked fist pump? Was he going to scream and hug his caddy? Was he going to grab a t-shirt gun out of his bag and start shooting red nike shirts into the crowd? You never knew. During the 2000 PGA Championship, Tiger was being challenged by a player named Bob May. Everyone knew that Tiger just had to win, but May kept playing good golf. Eventually, it went into a three hole playoff, and that's where the real magic happened. On the first playoff hole, Tiger had a long birdie putt to go one shot up on May. When the putt was about halfway to the hole, Tiger started running after it, finger pointed at the hole. The putt dropped, the crowd went nuts, Tiger picked the ball out of the hole, gave a fist pump and let out a scream and just like that, you knew it was over. There were two holes left in the playoff and May was only down by one shot, but everyone knew it. No one was coming back from a shot like that. Most players are lucky to have a career defining shot. For David Toms, it was the hole-in-one during the PGA Championship which he later went on to win for his first and only major. For Shaun Micheel, it was the shot he nearly holed from the fairway to win the PGA Championship a few years later. For Tiger, there isn't one. For anyone else, that putt would have been the shot. It was incredible. For Tiger, it's just another to add to an ever-growing list.
There's something different about a tournament when Tiger Woods is a part of it. Everyone knows it, even if the players won't admit it sometimes. There's an electricity in the air that just doesn't seem to be there if he's not playing. Go to a tournament that Tiger's playing and you're bound to know where he is on the course at any given time, no matter where on the course you are. They're called Tiger Roars, and you can hear them from miles away. They happen when Tiger does something special. When he does, every bit of energy in the crowd is released and they go nuts. Maybe it's a birdie, maybe it's a long par putt, maybe it's a chip in. Whatever it is, everyone on the course is going to know it just happened from the roar the crowd makes when the ball goes in the hole.
I was lucky enough to be on the 18th hole at the US Open at Torrey Pines when Tiger made his putt to send the tournament into an 18 hole playoff the next day. That day, things weren't looking good for Tiger. He was limping around the course like someone had Tonya Harding-ed him and he seemed unable to really get anything going (probably because of his leg, which was later found to have a broken bone in it). Despite these things, he wasn't throwing away strokes. He was staying within reach of the leader, Rocco Mediate. He came to the 18th hole, a par 5 over water, needing birdie to tie Mediate. I was waiting under a huge scoreboard near the fairway with one of my best friends and his girlfriend and we had been trying to get updates on Tiger's standing for a long time before he got there. Finally, when he reached the 18th hole, we learned that he needed birdie. When Tiger hit his third shot safely on the green, the crowd went nuts and everyone waited in nervous anticipation as he walked to the green. We were all jostling in my section, trying to stand on little hills, roots, legs of bleachers, each other...anything to see what was going to happen when Tiger putted. He took a few minutes reading the putt and right before he hit the ball, I stood on my tip toes and was able to see everything. The second the putter touched the ball, everyone started yelling for it to drop. A few seconds later, it did and there was absolute pandemonium. Never in my life have I heard anything so loud in my life. Tiger was screaming and missing high fives with his caddy. We were screaming and missing high fives with each other and strangers. It was something I doubt I will ever come close to experiencing again at any other sporting event. Shaking his head in the scorer's tent, Mediate turned away from the TV he was watching and said the words the all of us there were thinking the minute Tiger hit the putt: "I knew he was gonna make it."
Maybe Tiger Woods isn't a fantastic human being. Maybe he swears a lot on the course and throws clubs and cheats on his wife. Maybe he doesn't give autographs and high fives to kids and kiss babies like everyone wants him to. But what he does give us just may be better. Tiger gives us moments unlike any we have seen or experienced before. Standing behind the scoreboard on 18, I didn't need him to sign my hat or take a picture with me or kiss my dog. I needed that putt to drop because every bone in my body was telling me that it was going to. Something inside me that loves this crazy game called golf and grew up idolizing a man named Tiger felt like it needed that birdie to survive. Something would have felt so wrong inside me watching someone other than Tiger hold the trophy after all that Tiger had been through for this tournament. Could I still have faith in a game in which someone who deserved to win as much as Tiger did that week lost? I didn't know and I didn't want to find out. I needed that putt to drop.
And it did.
And that is why Tiger Woods is still my favorite golfer.
I can see why people give me funny looks (and sometimes disgusted looks) when I say this. A lot of people, my roommate included, think there must be something wrong with me. "Really? After all that he's done?" people say. Really, and here's why.
First of all, let me make one thing clear: In no way am I defending Tiger for cheating on his wife. It's something that rightly made a lot of people mad and it's something that he's going to have to deal with in private (and in public) for a long time. Simply put, he screwed up. But here's my question: does he really deserve all that he's had to put up with since the truth came out?
Up to Tiger's crash in late November last year, he had been in the tabloids about as much as I have. After all, he's a golfer, how exciting could his personal life be? After the crash, we got our answer: very exciting. Soon, he was being bombarded by paparazzi and media and his life got a whole lot crazier.
Question: Can you remember any non-politician getting this much media attention for cheating on his wife?
The last athlete I can remember getting attention like this was Kobe Bryant during his rape case. But Kobe was being accused of a crime. There was nothing criminal about what Tiger was doing. Morally wrong? Yes. Criminally? No. So why would Tiger get so much attention when he didn't break any laws? Two reasons.
Reason 1: He's Tiger Woods. Tiger is probably the most famous athlete in the world. He's sport's first $1 billion dollar man and he's a notoriously private person. If you're a member of the paparazzi and you're looking to go after someone big, there's no one bigger than Tiger. Once the paparazzi smelled blood, it was all over.
Reason 2: He plays golf. Golfers are the pretty boys of the sports world. Think of every sports scandal you can before Tiger's. Did any of them happen in golf? Football has people like Brandon Marshall,Terrell Owens, and (fill in the blank) of the Cincinnati Bengals. Baseball has Milton Bradley and Roger Clemens. Cycling has Floyd Landis. Skiing has Bode Miller. Basketball has Ron Artest and Kenyon Martin. Sports are supposed to have their bad boys. Can you think of one golfer (besides John Daly) who has made a headline for anything besides winning a golf tournament? Golfers are supposed to be boring. They're not supposed to have wild secret lives. But Tiger did and he's getting shelled for it. What's strange about this is that athletes in every sport cheat on their wives. And yet how many athletes have been forced to hold news conferences to confess to cheating?
I know what you're thinking, So he's still your favorite golfer...why? Glad you asked.
I started playing golf in 1996. Coincidentally, this was the same year that a young golfer named Tiger Woods turned pro. A year later, he won his first major championship: The Masters. I remember hearing a lot about Tiger and once I started watching him, I knew there was something different about him. For one thing, he didn't seem like a golfer. Tiger had an intensity to him that I had never seen in anyone else. I was just getting into golf, and I had always thought (like so many other people) that golf was a boring sport to watch on TV. However, I found myself glued to the TV whenever Tiger was playing. It didn't matter if it was The Masters or the Byron Nelson, I was watching if Tiger was playing. Maybe he didn't always win, but you knew that at some point during the round, he was going to do something special. It was like watching a hockey game because you wanted to see a fight. Maybe the rest wasn't nail-biting, but you knew at some point, it was coming. And when it did, you could always count on Tiger react in the perfect way. You never knew exactly how it was going to go down. Was he going to unleash his trademarked fist pump? Was he going to scream and hug his caddy? Was he going to grab a t-shirt gun out of his bag and start shooting red nike shirts into the crowd? You never knew. During the 2000 PGA Championship, Tiger was being challenged by a player named Bob May. Everyone knew that Tiger just had to win, but May kept playing good golf. Eventually, it went into a three hole playoff, and that's where the real magic happened. On the first playoff hole, Tiger had a long birdie putt to go one shot up on May. When the putt was about halfway to the hole, Tiger started running after it, finger pointed at the hole. The putt dropped, the crowd went nuts, Tiger picked the ball out of the hole, gave a fist pump and let out a scream and just like that, you knew it was over. There were two holes left in the playoff and May was only down by one shot, but everyone knew it. No one was coming back from a shot like that. Most players are lucky to have a career defining shot. For David Toms, it was the hole-in-one during the PGA Championship which he later went on to win for his first and only major. For Shaun Micheel, it was the shot he nearly holed from the fairway to win the PGA Championship a few years later. For Tiger, there isn't one. For anyone else, that putt would have been the shot. It was incredible. For Tiger, it's just another to add to an ever-growing list.
There's something different about a tournament when Tiger Woods is a part of it. Everyone knows it, even if the players won't admit it sometimes. There's an electricity in the air that just doesn't seem to be there if he's not playing. Go to a tournament that Tiger's playing and you're bound to know where he is on the course at any given time, no matter where on the course you are. They're called Tiger Roars, and you can hear them from miles away. They happen when Tiger does something special. When he does, every bit of energy in the crowd is released and they go nuts. Maybe it's a birdie, maybe it's a long par putt, maybe it's a chip in. Whatever it is, everyone on the course is going to know it just happened from the roar the crowd makes when the ball goes in the hole.
I was lucky enough to be on the 18th hole at the US Open at Torrey Pines when Tiger made his putt to send the tournament into an 18 hole playoff the next day. That day, things weren't looking good for Tiger. He was limping around the course like someone had Tonya Harding-ed him and he seemed unable to really get anything going (probably because of his leg, which was later found to have a broken bone in it). Despite these things, he wasn't throwing away strokes. He was staying within reach of the leader, Rocco Mediate. He came to the 18th hole, a par 5 over water, needing birdie to tie Mediate. I was waiting under a huge scoreboard near the fairway with one of my best friends and his girlfriend and we had been trying to get updates on Tiger's standing for a long time before he got there. Finally, when he reached the 18th hole, we learned that he needed birdie. When Tiger hit his third shot safely on the green, the crowd went nuts and everyone waited in nervous anticipation as he walked to the green. We were all jostling in my section, trying to stand on little hills, roots, legs of bleachers, each other...anything to see what was going to happen when Tiger putted. He took a few minutes reading the putt and right before he hit the ball, I stood on my tip toes and was able to see everything. The second the putter touched the ball, everyone started yelling for it to drop. A few seconds later, it did and there was absolute pandemonium. Never in my life have I heard anything so loud in my life. Tiger was screaming and missing high fives with his caddy. We were screaming and missing high fives with each other and strangers. It was something I doubt I will ever come close to experiencing again at any other sporting event. Shaking his head in the scorer's tent, Mediate turned away from the TV he was watching and said the words the all of us there were thinking the minute Tiger hit the putt: "I knew he was gonna make it."
Maybe Tiger Woods isn't a fantastic human being. Maybe he swears a lot on the course and throws clubs and cheats on his wife. Maybe he doesn't give autographs and high fives to kids and kiss babies like everyone wants him to. But what he does give us just may be better. Tiger gives us moments unlike any we have seen or experienced before. Standing behind the scoreboard on 18, I didn't need him to sign my hat or take a picture with me or kiss my dog. I needed that putt to drop because every bone in my body was telling me that it was going to. Something inside me that loves this crazy game called golf and grew up idolizing a man named Tiger felt like it needed that birdie to survive. Something would have felt so wrong inside me watching someone other than Tiger hold the trophy after all that Tiger had been through for this tournament. Could I still have faith in a game in which someone who deserved to win as much as Tiger did that week lost? I didn't know and I didn't want to find out. I needed that putt to drop.
And it did.
And that is why Tiger Woods is still my favorite golfer.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Say What?
I was browsing around espn.com last night in the hockey section and found what has to be the front-runner for headline of the year:
"Bruins sign Satan to bolster offense"
As if that wasn't enough, when you click on that link, the headline for the article itself reads:
"Satan at Bruins' Sunday Practice"
(Note: There is a player named Miroslav Satan. Still, tell me that's not the best headline you've seen all year.)
"Bruins sign Satan to bolster offense"
As if that wasn't enough, when you click on that link, the headline for the article itself reads:
"Satan at Bruins' Sunday Practice"
(Note: There is a player named Miroslav Satan. Still, tell me that's not the best headline you've seen all year.)
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Strict Joy
A long time ago, someone who loved music very much told me that when they got an album, they just hoped for one good song on it. I was just getting into music myself, and I was a little shocked. "How pessimistic," I thought. "Why get an album if there's only going to be one song that you like on it?"
However, as I began to compile more and more albums, I started to think that maybe they had been right. I would hear a song on the radio, rush out to buy the album hoping for it to be filled with similar songs, and almost always wind up disappointed. I still refuse to completely admit that my friend was correct in her assumption. With a lot of the albums out there though, it seems to be that there are far more instances in which she was right than wrong. Since I heard her say that, I've spent many years hoping that every album I get will have more than one great song on it. Over the past ten years, my list has included albums such as: Coldplay's "Parachutes" and "Viva la Vida," Jack Johnson's "In Between Dreams," Thrice's "The Artist in the Ambulance," Thursday's "War All the Time," Arcade Fire's "Funeral," and Radiohead's "In Rainbows." There are definitely more to add, but the list is small, and the list of albums where there are more than three or four "great" songs is even smaller. However, today I am proud to add another to the list.
Anyone who has seen the movie "Once" doesn't need me to tell them that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova work well together. Though not romantically involved anymore, they still form the band "The Swell Season" and their music is as beautiful as ever. Their new album "Strict Joy" is without a doubt one of the best albums out this year and made it onto my list with one listen.
No one likes a one trick pony, and lately it seems like that's what a lot of bands have become. There are so many bands I can think of that are immensely talented, but when you buy their new album, you know exactly what you're going to get before you listen to the first song. It's because of this trend that the surprising range of songs in "Strict Joy" caught me so pleasantly off guard. The songs range from Hansard singing alone with an almost Damien Rice sort of sound in some, to the flamenco inspired "Paper Cups," and from the mystical and almost mythical sounding "Fantasy Man" to the flat out gorgeous and sad "I Have Loved You Wrong." Irglova has the uncanny ability to change the sound of her voice to match the emotions of the song. In "Fantasy Man," her voice is soft with an almost gypsy-like quality to it and seems so delicate that it could crack at any moment. In "I Have Loved You Wrong," her voice seems stronger, but retains a sadness as she confesses: "Forgive me lover for I have sinned, for I have loved you wrong." Coupled with Hansard's restrained harmonies, the song is hauntingly beautiful and maybe the best of the album. Despite the pained and sometimes yearning lyrics that may or may not reflect how the duo feels about each other, there is an unmistakable air of hopefulness to the album that ultimately holds it together. Whether it's the lyrics coming around to resemble optimism or the music itself failing to sink to the emotional lows of the lyrics, I can only say one thing to the end result: "You're on the list."
However, as I began to compile more and more albums, I started to think that maybe they had been right. I would hear a song on the radio, rush out to buy the album hoping for it to be filled with similar songs, and almost always wind up disappointed. I still refuse to completely admit that my friend was correct in her assumption. With a lot of the albums out there though, it seems to be that there are far more instances in which she was right than wrong. Since I heard her say that, I've spent many years hoping that every album I get will have more than one great song on it. Over the past ten years, my list has included albums such as: Coldplay's "Parachutes" and "Viva la Vida," Jack Johnson's "In Between Dreams," Thrice's "The Artist in the Ambulance," Thursday's "War All the Time," Arcade Fire's "Funeral," and Radiohead's "In Rainbows." There are definitely more to add, but the list is small, and the list of albums where there are more than three or four "great" songs is even smaller. However, today I am proud to add another to the list.
Anyone who has seen the movie "Once" doesn't need me to tell them that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova work well together. Though not romantically involved anymore, they still form the band "The Swell Season" and their music is as beautiful as ever. Their new album "Strict Joy" is without a doubt one of the best albums out this year and made it onto my list with one listen.
No one likes a one trick pony, and lately it seems like that's what a lot of bands have become. There are so many bands I can think of that are immensely talented, but when you buy their new album, you know exactly what you're going to get before you listen to the first song. It's because of this trend that the surprising range of songs in "Strict Joy" caught me so pleasantly off guard. The songs range from Hansard singing alone with an almost Damien Rice sort of sound in some, to the flamenco inspired "Paper Cups," and from the mystical and almost mythical sounding "Fantasy Man" to the flat out gorgeous and sad "I Have Loved You Wrong." Irglova has the uncanny ability to change the sound of her voice to match the emotions of the song. In "Fantasy Man," her voice is soft with an almost gypsy-like quality to it and seems so delicate that it could crack at any moment. In "I Have Loved You Wrong," her voice seems stronger, but retains a sadness as she confesses: "Forgive me lover for I have sinned, for I have loved you wrong." Coupled with Hansard's restrained harmonies, the song is hauntingly beautiful and maybe the best of the album. Despite the pained and sometimes yearning lyrics that may or may not reflect how the duo feels about each other, there is an unmistakable air of hopefulness to the album that ultimately holds it together. Whether it's the lyrics coming around to resemble optimism or the music itself failing to sink to the emotional lows of the lyrics, I can only say one thing to the end result: "You're on the list."
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
A Moving Find
I recently moved to a new apartment. Whenever I move, I find tons of stuff that I have no recollection of ever having. This time was no different. During the course of moving and throwing stuff out, I found a bunch of old assignments that I did for writing classes. Things that I completely forgot that I had written. Reading back over something you have no recollection of writing is always an interesting experience. If you're lucky, you have some moments where you're pleasantly surprised by your writing. If you're not, then it's at least a chance to see how far your writing has come. Either way, it can be an interesting experience. Here's one of the stories I found. The assignment was to come up with a scene in which there are two characters and each one knows something that the other doesn't. This is what I came up with.
“Do you want any more juice?” she asked, crossing the tile floor of the kitchen to where he sat, halfway through that morning’s paper.
He looked up for a moment and smiled weakly. “No, I’m fine, thanks.”
She whistled and pulled her small glass with ladybugs frosted on the outside towards her and poured herself some juice. He glanced up from the opinion column.
“Since when can you whistle?”
“Since forever, silly.”
“You’re in an awful good mood today.”
She looked at him, surprised. “Well why wouldn’t I be? It’s such a nice day and it’s so quiet in here, just the two of us.”
He looked up from his paper again and glanced around.
“It is quiet in here. I wonder if Sergeant Tibbs is awake.”
“Ugh! That bird is all you talk about,” she moaned.
He didn’t seem to notice and went back to the paper. She walked back across the kitchen and began scrubbing a bowl in the sink, letting the soapy water seep through her fingers. She glanced out the window.
“Honey, where’s Mr. Tumnus?”
“What, that cat?”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen the baby all day and I set out his foie gras hours ago, but it looks as though he hasn’t touched it.”
“You spoil that cat too much. One day, it’s going to have to learn to live on its own,” he said. “That damn cat eats better than I do.”
She turned towards him.
“Well maybe if you talked to me half as much as you talk to that bird, things would be different. Anyways,” she said, turning away from the sink, “I have to go to work.”
She walked towards the door and grabbed her black coat, felt for her keys in the pocket, and then blew him a kiss and walked out the door. As soon as she was gone, he put down the paper and walked towards the guest bedroom. Condensation had begun to form on the ladybug glass, and the only sound in the kitchen was the soft ticking of the Felix the cat clock that hung above the sink. Their screams pierced the silence simultaneously, and they both ran into the kitchen at the same time.
“You ran over my cat!”
“Well I was going to get the paper and he was in the way!”
“You had to drive to get the paper? You know he likes sleeping in the driveway! Your car is still on top of him!”
“Well you’re the one who killed my bird and wrote a suicide note to me from him!”
“Honey, he looked kind of depressed last night when I saw him. Maybe there was something he wasn’t telling you,” she said quietly.
"Sergeant Tibbs can't write! And there was box of rat poison next to his cage!"
A Strange Occurrence
“Do you want any more juice?” she asked, crossing the tile floor of the kitchen to where he sat, halfway through that morning’s paper.
He looked up for a moment and smiled weakly. “No, I’m fine, thanks.”
She whistled and pulled her small glass with ladybugs frosted on the outside towards her and poured herself some juice. He glanced up from the opinion column.
“Since when can you whistle?”
“Since forever, silly.”
“You’re in an awful good mood today.”
She looked at him, surprised. “Well why wouldn’t I be? It’s such a nice day and it’s so quiet in here, just the two of us.”
He looked up from his paper again and glanced around.
“It is quiet in here. I wonder if Sergeant Tibbs is awake.”
“Ugh! That bird is all you talk about,” she moaned.
He didn’t seem to notice and went back to the paper. She walked back across the kitchen and began scrubbing a bowl in the sink, letting the soapy water seep through her fingers. She glanced out the window.
“Honey, where’s Mr. Tumnus?”
“What, that cat?”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen the baby all day and I set out his foie gras hours ago, but it looks as though he hasn’t touched it.”
“You spoil that cat too much. One day, it’s going to have to learn to live on its own,” he said. “That damn cat eats better than I do.”
She turned towards him.
“Well maybe if you talked to me half as much as you talk to that bird, things would be different. Anyways,” she said, turning away from the sink, “I have to go to work.”
She walked towards the door and grabbed her black coat, felt for her keys in the pocket, and then blew him a kiss and walked out the door. As soon as she was gone, he put down the paper and walked towards the guest bedroom. Condensation had begun to form on the ladybug glass, and the only sound in the kitchen was the soft ticking of the Felix the cat clock that hung above the sink. Their screams pierced the silence simultaneously, and they both ran into the kitchen at the same time.
“You ran over my cat!”
“Well I was going to get the paper and he was in the way!”
“You had to drive to get the paper? You know he likes sleeping in the driveway! Your car is still on top of him!”
“Well you’re the one who killed my bird and wrote a suicide note to me from him!”
“Honey, he looked kind of depressed last night when I saw him. Maybe there was something he wasn’t telling you,” she said quietly.
"Sergeant Tibbs can't write! And there was box of rat poison next to his cage!"
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