A couple weeks ago, my friend Dan and I went out to the Ballast Point Brewery for the first time. A lot of our coworkers go on a regular basis, so we decided it was time to check it out. The trip was a major success and I was really impressed with all of the beer. By far, my favorite was a special Black Marlin Porter that was aged in bourbon barrels. The smell of the bourbon really came out and brought out a ton of flavors in the beer. On the way out of the brewery, I decided to pick up a bottle of their standard Black Marlin Porter which had been sitting in my fridge. Until last night.
First of all, let's learn about one of the most overlooked kinds of beer- the porter. The porter style was born in England in the 1700s and was a heavily popular style during the time. The name comes from its popularity among the transportation workers. Interestingly enough, before Guinness was known as Guinness Stout, it was known as Guinness Extra Stout Porter. Porters at the time Guinness was first produced were classified as being either an "X" or as being the stronger "XX." Originally, Guinness was of the "XX" variety until the name was officially changed to Guinness Extra Stout. So what's the difference between a Porter and a Stout? A Porter is historically not as "heavy" as a stout and usually slightly lighter in color. However, Stouts and Porters have been intertwined since they both became recognized types of beer and to this day, people debate whether there is really a difference between the two.
On to the Black Marlin Porter. While drinking this beer, I learned something very important firsthand: Beer isn't always better when it's ice cold. Certainly, some beers (like Coors Light and beers of this quality) are way better if you don't let them get warm. However, Black Marlin Porter is not one of those beers. When I took the first sip, I was a little underwhelmed by the flavor. However, I remembered reading on beeradvocate.com that for many beers, it's better to let the beer warm a little to really bring out the flavors and aromas. So I gave it a few minutes and tried again. Total difference. I enjoyed it so much more than the first sip. Not only that, but the smell was full and rich. The taste is full of roasted malts and coffee. There's also a little sweetness behind it that held up the flavor nicely and kept it from falling off into the bitterness of the coffee and dark chocolate flavors. This was a really solid Porter, and while I didn't enjoy it quite as much as the bourbon barrel aged variety, it is a really solid porter. I always kind of had a perception of porters and stouts as being very heavy beers; beers you had to really work through and take deep breaths in between sips. This didn't feel that way at all though. It was surprisingly easy to drink for it's heaviness. Just a solid solid beer.
Final Grade: A-
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Run 2
There's nothing like dog shit to take the wind out of your sails on a good run. Total momentum killer. I'll explain in a second.
For me, running is a series of highs and lows. Throughout the course of the run, this can take a lot of different forms. The highs can be incredible. When you're in the middle of the run, you can find that perfect pace for your body and feel like you could run forever. Some people refer to this as runner's high. For me, that's the best possible feeling during a run. When you hit this point, you start telling yourself things like "I know I said I was only going to run 3 miles today, but hell, I feel like I could run a marathon." Of course if you're only used to running three miles, you're not going to actually be able to come close to a marathon, and your body is usually quick to remind you of this fact. Let's say you found your groove and you're "jamming" (as my friend from the team, Jeff, would say). Your head is telling you that you can run forever, but your body knows better. The process goes a little something like this: "I'm jamming, I'm jamming, I'm jamming"...cramp! And just like that, you've gone from an incredible high to a major low. Suddenly, you're struggling to make it the three miles you said you were going to run originally. If you are lucky enough to work out the cramp, then you're on your way back to another high, but it's never quite as high as the first, because you're constantly weary. Cramps are usually the biggest culprit when it comes to having my momentum killed. However, sometimes something much more sinister comes along.
I started the run today with the expectation that it wasn't going to be a very good run. Whether it was fueled by the guilt of not running for a few days or actually genuine, I woke up this morning really feeling like I wanted to run. However, faced with the grim fact that I made the mistake of eating Taco Bell last night, I was not expecting good things from my body today. At the beginning of the run, things were pretty much just as I expected. My muscles felt sluggish and I found myself practically waddling up the first hill near my apartment. I couldn't stop thinking that I probably looked like one of those ladies that run while lifting three pound weights. In the world of awkward runners, these women are the queen bees. They almost always wear visors and spandex and wear a plumage of colors that should have died in the 80s. If you've never seen them before, just know this: You really really really don't want to look like them if you're trying to be taken seriously during your runs.
I crested the hill in what I was sure was about 25 minute per mile pace and it was right about then that I hit my first high. Suddenly, my muscles woke up and I found myself "jamming." It felt really good, and while I expected it to die when I turned the corner to run up the next hill, I was shocked when it didn't. My body felt as in sync during a run as I can ever remember it feeling. I made it up the second hill and made the turn for the long straightaway before the last turn that would take me to the home stretch. Right after I started on the straightaway down La Jolla Village Drive, I hit my second low. Usually a low comes at the hands of one assailant, but this time, two things hit me at once: I got my first cramp (Curse you, Taco Bell!) and the sun decided to come out from behind the clouds. Double whammy. Despite the forces working against me, I made it through the straightaway and turned the corner down Town Center Drive at what I felt was pretty good pace. Then, magically, two things went right that led to another high: My cramp went away and two broken sprinklers sprayed my legs with water. Even though it felt much hotter out then when I started, I was feeling good again. I powered through the last hill with ease and was in full jamming mode when I reached the final stretch. I was so close to the end I could taste it. Right on cue, the Thrice song "Red Sky" came on my ipod. If you haven't heard this song, you should. If I ever choose the music for a movie one day and I need a song for a final scene in which the main character (who the audience assumed was dead) bursts through a curtain of flames in slow motion and kisses his romantic interest while she sobs and tells him that she knew he wasn't dead, "Red Sky" would be the song. It's nothing short of triumphant, and that's exactly how I felt coming down the home stretch.
And then, cruelly (some would even say completely unfairly), it hit me- Eau de dog shit. It smelled like the gardeners of the area had used mastiff dung to fertilize the area around me. And just like like, jamming mode was over. Instantly, my legs felt like lead, my stomach felt like it had been hit by a truck, and my lungs felt like curling up and dying.
This is not a completely unfamiliar phenomenon to me while running. A while back, right after the Hood to Coast last year, I was near the end of a run and completely oblivious to the fact that I was nearing a Carls Jr. at breakfast time. Eerily, the smell of breakfast at CJ's is nearly identical to what I smelled today. Coincidence? I leave you to reach your own conclusions.
Whether it's CJ's or a dog who possibly ate too much CJs, it doesn't take much to sabotage a good run. I don't know if I realized this until today, but I think that I don't really take note of smells at all when I'm running until a bad one comes along.
That all said, I think in the end I can take way more positives from the run today than negatives. While I wasn't exactly a speed demon on the road today, I felt infinitely better and more comfortable than in Run 1. I can already tell that I'm not going to need as much time to recover from this run, and I think that's a huge plus. As long as I don't feel too bad tomorrow, I'm planning on running again on Wednesday. Gradually, my goal is to up my mileage until I'm running a respectable distance on a regular basis. I'm going to get there before the race. I'm just hoping there aren't too many more surprises waiting in ambush for me like today.
For me, running is a series of highs and lows. Throughout the course of the run, this can take a lot of different forms. The highs can be incredible. When you're in the middle of the run, you can find that perfect pace for your body and feel like you could run forever. Some people refer to this as runner's high. For me, that's the best possible feeling during a run. When you hit this point, you start telling yourself things like "I know I said I was only going to run 3 miles today, but hell, I feel like I could run a marathon." Of course if you're only used to running three miles, you're not going to actually be able to come close to a marathon, and your body is usually quick to remind you of this fact. Let's say you found your groove and you're "jamming" (as my friend from the team, Jeff, would say). Your head is telling you that you can run forever, but your body knows better. The process goes a little something like this: "I'm jamming, I'm jamming, I'm jamming"...cramp! And just like that, you've gone from an incredible high to a major low. Suddenly, you're struggling to make it the three miles you said you were going to run originally. If you are lucky enough to work out the cramp, then you're on your way back to another high, but it's never quite as high as the first, because you're constantly weary. Cramps are usually the biggest culprit when it comes to having my momentum killed. However, sometimes something much more sinister comes along.
I started the run today with the expectation that it wasn't going to be a very good run. Whether it was fueled by the guilt of not running for a few days or actually genuine, I woke up this morning really feeling like I wanted to run. However, faced with the grim fact that I made the mistake of eating Taco Bell last night, I was not expecting good things from my body today. At the beginning of the run, things were pretty much just as I expected. My muscles felt sluggish and I found myself practically waddling up the first hill near my apartment. I couldn't stop thinking that I probably looked like one of those ladies that run while lifting three pound weights. In the world of awkward runners, these women are the queen bees. They almost always wear visors and spandex and wear a plumage of colors that should have died in the 80s. If you've never seen them before, just know this: You really really really don't want to look like them if you're trying to be taken seriously during your runs.
I crested the hill in what I was sure was about 25 minute per mile pace and it was right about then that I hit my first high. Suddenly, my muscles woke up and I found myself "jamming." It felt really good, and while I expected it to die when I turned the corner to run up the next hill, I was shocked when it didn't. My body felt as in sync during a run as I can ever remember it feeling. I made it up the second hill and made the turn for the long straightaway before the last turn that would take me to the home stretch. Right after I started on the straightaway down La Jolla Village Drive, I hit my second low. Usually a low comes at the hands of one assailant, but this time, two things hit me at once: I got my first cramp (Curse you, Taco Bell!) and the sun decided to come out from behind the clouds. Double whammy. Despite the forces working against me, I made it through the straightaway and turned the corner down Town Center Drive at what I felt was pretty good pace. Then, magically, two things went right that led to another high: My cramp went away and two broken sprinklers sprayed my legs with water. Even though it felt much hotter out then when I started, I was feeling good again. I powered through the last hill with ease and was in full jamming mode when I reached the final stretch. I was so close to the end I could taste it. Right on cue, the Thrice song "Red Sky" came on my ipod. If you haven't heard this song, you should. If I ever choose the music for a movie one day and I need a song for a final scene in which the main character (who the audience assumed was dead) bursts through a curtain of flames in slow motion and kisses his romantic interest while she sobs and tells him that she knew he wasn't dead, "Red Sky" would be the song. It's nothing short of triumphant, and that's exactly how I felt coming down the home stretch.
And then, cruelly (some would even say completely unfairly), it hit me- Eau de dog shit. It smelled like the gardeners of the area had used mastiff dung to fertilize the area around me. And just like like, jamming mode was over. Instantly, my legs felt like lead, my stomach felt like it had been hit by a truck, and my lungs felt like curling up and dying.
This is not a completely unfamiliar phenomenon to me while running. A while back, right after the Hood to Coast last year, I was near the end of a run and completely oblivious to the fact that I was nearing a Carls Jr. at breakfast time. Eerily, the smell of breakfast at CJ's is nearly identical to what I smelled today. Coincidence? I leave you to reach your own conclusions.
Whether it's CJ's or a dog who possibly ate too much CJs, it doesn't take much to sabotage a good run. I don't know if I realized this until today, but I think that I don't really take note of smells at all when I'm running until a bad one comes along.
That all said, I think in the end I can take way more positives from the run today than negatives. While I wasn't exactly a speed demon on the road today, I felt infinitely better and more comfortable than in Run 1. I can already tell that I'm not going to need as much time to recover from this run, and I think that's a huge plus. As long as I don't feel too bad tomorrow, I'm planning on running again on Wednesday. Gradually, my goal is to up my mileage until I'm running a respectable distance on a regular basis. I'm going to get there before the race. I'm just hoping there aren't too many more surprises waiting in ambush for me like today.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Stone Brewing Co. - Sublimely Self Righteous Ale
Last night while watching a very satisfying Game 1 of the NBA Finals, I finally got around to trying a bottle of Stone's "Sublimely Self Righteous Ale." It's been lurking in the depths of my fridge for a few weeks, so last night, in the name of doing my part to help clear out the fridge, I decided to drink it.
I'll admit it- I used to hate Stone beers. My only experience with them was the few that they gave away for free at UCSD during a student appreciation event called Bear Garden. At every Bear Garden, Stone supplies kegs of their Pale Ale and their standard IPA and every student gets two samples. I was really underwhelmed. Coincidentally, my work, Trader Joes, finally started carrying Stone beer and the only two we carry (besides bombers of Arrogant Bastard) are the very same Pale Ale and IPA. Needless to say, at $9.49 a six pack, I will be passing.
Then, about a month ago, my perception of Stone completely changed. It started when a friend from work posted a picture on his Facebook wall of a bomber (a 22 oz. bottle) of Stone's newest release, a Russian Imperial Stout. Interesting, I thought. Up to seeing the picture, I was completely unaware that Stone made anything in the way of seasonal beers. The next day, I picked up a bottle at Bristol Farms and gave it a try. I couldn't believe it was the same brewery that I had tasted at Bear Garden. The Russian Imperial Stout quickly became one of the best beers I have ever tasted. Absolutely delicious. I tried it with Kenny, a buddy of mine who knows way more about beer than I do and who is quickly becoming my Beer Yoda. Kenny happened to have some more Stone at home, so the next time he came over, we tried Stone's Old Guardian Barleywine and another seasonal beer they make called Double Bastard. Again, I was blown away by both of them. After trying one more of Stone's beers a week later, their Ruination IPA, I decided to revise my opinion of Stone. They are quickly becoming one of my favorite breweries.
On to the tasting. Stone's Sublimely Self Righteous Ale may not have been as mindblowing as their Russian Imperial, but it was pretty damn good. It poured a very dark and almost black brown color with a nice mocha colored head. For some reason, I wasn't expecting this. The ales I'm used to just don't look as dark as a Guinness. The darkness wasn't a bad thing at all, just surprising. The beer tasted like a good ale should, slightly sweet at the first sip and then giving way to a very hoppy (but not dry, which was nice) finish. I'm definitely used to my ales having a decent amount of hops and this one has that going for it for sure.
For anyone who doesn't know, hops are a funny little flower used in brewing that gives the beer a lot of its body. They're that slightly bitter aftertaste that you get when you're drinking a lot of different beers. You're going to taste hops in a pale ale. You may be blown away by the hops in an IPA. For me, I haven't always enjoyed hops. When I started drinking beer, I liked beers like Heineken, beers in which the hops weren't really that noticeable. Slowly, I have come to appreciate the hop to the point where IPAs are some of my favorite beers. I actually have a very special IPA in the fridge right now that I'll be reviewing soon. I'm not giving away what it is just yet, but let's just say I can't wait to review this one. Anyways, back to hops. Some people really hate hops. These people are way more likely to like a beer like Pyramid Hefeweizen or a Blue Moon than a Sierra Nevada. Then there are people who can't get enough hops. These people are known (mostly to themselves) as hop heads. I wouldn't say I'm a hop head, but my hop tolerance has definitely gone way up. The hops in the Sublimely Self Righteous Ale were pretty much just how I like them. They were right between having a floral and a citrus character to them, so they didn't weigh down the beer at all. This beer was strongly hopped, so the flavor lasted way beyond the finish and I could still taste the bitterness an hour later.
While this may not have been the best I've had from Stone, it certainly upheld their reputation in my book. It's a really solid ale, and at 8.7% (percent alcohol that is, most beers range from 4-12% or so and most are way below 8%), it will keep you happy no matter what your taste in beer is.
Final Grade: A-
I'll admit it- I used to hate Stone beers. My only experience with them was the few that they gave away for free at UCSD during a student appreciation event called Bear Garden. At every Bear Garden, Stone supplies kegs of their Pale Ale and their standard IPA and every student gets two samples. I was really underwhelmed. Coincidentally, my work, Trader Joes, finally started carrying Stone beer and the only two we carry (besides bombers of Arrogant Bastard) are the very same Pale Ale and IPA. Needless to say, at $9.49 a six pack, I will be passing.
Then, about a month ago, my perception of Stone completely changed. It started when a friend from work posted a picture on his Facebook wall of a bomber (a 22 oz. bottle) of Stone's newest release, a Russian Imperial Stout. Interesting, I thought. Up to seeing the picture, I was completely unaware that Stone made anything in the way of seasonal beers. The next day, I picked up a bottle at Bristol Farms and gave it a try. I couldn't believe it was the same brewery that I had tasted at Bear Garden. The Russian Imperial Stout quickly became one of the best beers I have ever tasted. Absolutely delicious. I tried it with Kenny, a buddy of mine who knows way more about beer than I do and who is quickly becoming my Beer Yoda. Kenny happened to have some more Stone at home, so the next time he came over, we tried Stone's Old Guardian Barleywine and another seasonal beer they make called Double Bastard. Again, I was blown away by both of them. After trying one more of Stone's beers a week later, their Ruination IPA, I decided to revise my opinion of Stone. They are quickly becoming one of my favorite breweries.
On to the tasting. Stone's Sublimely Self Righteous Ale may not have been as mindblowing as their Russian Imperial, but it was pretty damn good. It poured a very dark and almost black brown color with a nice mocha colored head. For some reason, I wasn't expecting this. The ales I'm used to just don't look as dark as a Guinness. The darkness wasn't a bad thing at all, just surprising. The beer tasted like a good ale should, slightly sweet at the first sip and then giving way to a very hoppy (but not dry, which was nice) finish. I'm definitely used to my ales having a decent amount of hops and this one has that going for it for sure.
For anyone who doesn't know, hops are a funny little flower used in brewing that gives the beer a lot of its body. They're that slightly bitter aftertaste that you get when you're drinking a lot of different beers. You're going to taste hops in a pale ale. You may be blown away by the hops in an IPA. For me, I haven't always enjoyed hops. When I started drinking beer, I liked beers like Heineken, beers in which the hops weren't really that noticeable. Slowly, I have come to appreciate the hop to the point where IPAs are some of my favorite beers. I actually have a very special IPA in the fridge right now that I'll be reviewing soon. I'm not giving away what it is just yet, but let's just say I can't wait to review this one. Anyways, back to hops. Some people really hate hops. These people are way more likely to like a beer like Pyramid Hefeweizen or a Blue Moon than a Sierra Nevada. Then there are people who can't get enough hops. These people are known (mostly to themselves) as hop heads. I wouldn't say I'm a hop head, but my hop tolerance has definitely gone way up. The hops in the Sublimely Self Righteous Ale were pretty much just how I like them. They were right between having a floral and a citrus character to them, so they didn't weigh down the beer at all. This beer was strongly hopped, so the flavor lasted way beyond the finish and I could still taste the bitterness an hour later.
While this may not have been the best I've had from Stone, it certainly upheld their reputation in my book. It's a really solid ale, and at 8.7% (percent alcohol that is, most beers range from 4-12% or so and most are way below 8%), it will keep you happy no matter what your taste in beer is.
Final Grade: A-
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Run 1
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.
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)