At first, this looked kinds of fun. Then funny. And then frightening like all get out.
I have gone skydiving, but this looks like a wee bit more danger than I’d like to get into.
(via BB)
Oct 132009
Oct 092009
Ridiculously funny promo video for the putative sport of “cross-country snowboarding.” I found it on a sports blog at the Toronto Star, but it’s originally from Fuel TV, and yes, it’s fake, but oh so plausible.
I thought the best part was around 1:25, when they talk about not “stepping out” — for any reason. But then they busted out the Body Break parody.
Oct 082009
Only in Japan.
Oct 072009
I am absolutely mesmerized by this video. On a trip to Alaska, this skiier takes a first descent of some fresh powder — but almost immediately runs into trouble. An avalanche sends him tumbling, falling 1,500 feet in 20 seconds, and burying him under a metre of snow — more than enough to “entomb him”, as the poster of this video (who was there) writes:
The chute that he got sucked through to the skier’s right was flanked on either side by cliff bands that were about 30m tall. He luckily didn’t break any bones and obviously didn’t hit anything on the run out.
He was only buried for 4 and a half minutes which is incredibly short. I cannot stress these next sentences enough; that in and of itself to be unburied in ONLY 4:28 is miraculous if you have any understanding of being caught in an avalanche and what it takes to be found. It could literally be some kind of “world record” ….
He also got very lucky to be honest. In the time that he’s buried, you can hear his breathing already accelerate. The ruffling noise back and forth is his chest rising and falling and the noise that his jacket makes. The intermittent whimpering noise you hear is him trying to swallow and get some air since the avalung wasn’t fully in his mouth and instead just to the corner of his mouth. Still sends chills up the back of my neck. Oh…the luck? They located him so fast because his right glove came off just before he came completley to rest and there was an excellent visual of course.
And then the digging out is utterly amazing. I don’t think that you could’ve paid a Hollywood crew to stage something better. The fact that he could’ve been facing any 360 direction and yet he’s looking right up into the sun-filled blue sky with that first full scoop away of the shovel is borderline spiritual.
It’s tough to watch the camera struggle to keep up with the avalanche, crashing between white and blue and black until it settles down and you realize — this guy’s buried alive.
It’s tougher to listen as he struggles for a very long time, alone, trying to swallow snow to stay alive. But imagine how long and how lonely it must seem to him.
Stay with it — after a few minutes, you can hear the digging, you can hear the skiier call out, weakly, “Help!” and you get a gigantic emotional release as muffled voices come through the snow, offering reassurance that everything’s going to be okay and then finally, finally, gloved hands reach down and brush the snow off the lens of the camera.
Sep 132009
Last weekend, in the Labour Day Classic, the Saskatchewan Roughriders thumped the Winnipeg Blue Bombers by a score of 29-14.
(For readers who don’t know, the Canadian Football League hosts a number of particularly nasty rivalries on Labour Day weekend, including Winnipeg/Sasktchewan, Calgary/Edmonton and Hamilton/Toronto.)
The week after the Labour Day Classic is often a time for the rematch, giving the other team home field advantage. In the case of Winnipeg/Saskatchewan, this rematch has been christened the Banjo Bowl. And it’s today. (Live stream from the Winnipeg Free Press)
Seeing as how my dad is from Winnipeg and my mom is from Saskatchewan and my last name is Hamilton, I spent my youth trying to find a CFL team to root for. Although I live in Manitoba, we’re about half-way between Bomber and Rider territory, so I could legitimately lean either way.
Finally, though, my dad’s apparent waning of interest in football, combined with my uncle’s (on my mom’s side) ever-green exuberance, has won me over to the Roughriders’ side. Plus, although the Riders play in Regina, I’m heartened by the fact that they play on behalf of the whole province — unlike the Perimeteritis-afflicted Bombers.
To make amends for not supporting my paternal football team, I do tend to occasionally pick up Labatt Blue, as far as I know the only beer named after a sports team in the world.
Now, though, there’s competition for my alcoholic team loyalties — yes, Rider Pride, the wine.
Although it apparently comes in a Chardonnay as well, I was lucky enough to get a sample of the Merlot. It’s a 2008 vintage, from Chile, and if you pay attention to the label, it was actually imported through Alberta, so I don’t know what you can say about the Saskatchewan bona fides. Some suggest that a chokecherry, rhubarb or dandelion wine would have been more a propos, and I worry about the “whine” homophone plus the fey attitude of the beverage as a whole, but I guess not every team can have its own beer. And I’m not sure that’s it’s legal to sell liquor-soaked watermelons.
That said, a good wine has two or three times the alcohol content of most beers, and a robust red could be just the thing with a thick tailgated steak. Even the Chardonnay would be a fine accompaniment to a spicy plate of nachos.
The deep colour of the Rider Pride wine was promising, but right from the start, the wine’s nose, or aroma, was on the vinegar side. It was quite sharp, and a little off-putting. (Rider fan jokes go here, for all of you Bomber fans.) I decided before sampling that I would read what the back of the bottle said.
After some standard “Riders fans are the best” suck-upping, the wine promises “ripe tannins and a long finish …. Fruity undertones and a rich and creamy texture.”
Well, that sounded pretty fine. And the proposed accompaniment — light meat dishes — sounded like it would go well with the barbecue we had planned.
But there was still the small issue of the not-all-that-great aroma. Time to put it to the test.
Well, this tester described the wine as having a taste like old shoes. Perhaps it’s a locker room allusion?
I wouldn’t go that far. But there was little enough to recommend about this wine. It’s unfortunate, because I would really like to crack open a bottle and enjoy it as I watch the Riders thump the Bombers. But this Merlot had a harsh, almost chemical taste to it. It was strong, sure, and it would stand up to spicy football foods — even a smokie with sauerkraut, I’m sure — but it wasn’t a delight to quaff at all.
Perhaps we just had a bad bottle. Or perhaps this was a bad year, and next year’s bottling will be superior.
But I can’t shake the feeling that this wine — at $15.64 a bottle — is simply an inflated cash-grab by a money-hungry Albertan.
Aug 262009
Caster Semeya celebrates her gold medal win prior to the beginning of the current gender controversy. (Photo by David J. Phillip)
Earlier this week at the World Athletics Championship in Berlin, the women’s 800 meter event was won by the South African athlete, Caster Semenya. The 18 year old won the gold medal by an amazing 2 second lead. Of greater international interest, however, is the suggestion that Semenya might not be a woman. This seemingly odd accusation arose from a commonplace drug screening test that found the athlete had testosterone levels three times higher than normal for a female, triggering the need for a gender-verification test.
When I first heard this news story, my immediate mental image was that of a stark, laboratory-like, sterile white room and some poor athlete forced to pull down their pants in front of a panel of doctors. All of whom would be holding clipboards because that’s how you can tell they are professionals.
Of course, the reality is much different and much more complex. Time magazine explains that the simple binary test I envision is not how it is done, nor is the issue as uncommon as one might think.
In his paper “Intersex and the Olympic Games,” Rob Ritchie, a urological surgeon at Oxford University, notes that in the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta — the last Games in which all female athletes were subjected to gender testing — eight female athletes were found to be genetically male. Seven of them had androgen-insensitivity syndrome (AIS), a condition in which a genetic male is resistant to androgens, the male sex hormones that include testosterone. In such cases, the testes never descend from the abdomen and the genitalia may resemble female genitalia.
Not only might professional sports be the only career path that requires gender testing (unless your career goals include becoming the Pope), but it might be the only one where you can find out that you are not the gender you thought you were.
But back to the point: even if an individual has AIS, does that make them “not-female” and unable to race against other women, or is it categorized as a genetic abnormality?
Olympic officials do not consider AIS to necessarily confer an advantage. The seven genetically male athletes with AIS at the Atlanta Olympics were allowed to compete as women. However, the incidence of AIS in Atlanta — seven cases among 3,000 athletes — compared with the rate in the general population, which is 1 in 20,000, suggests that partial AIS can boost athletic ability, Ritchie says. “But,” he adds, “it’s never been proven that women found to be genetically male have any physical advantage above what might otherwise be seen in the extremes of genetically female women.”
Therefore, if being genetically male due to AIS does not preclude women from competing as women, how will it be determined if Semenya is female or not?
The IAAF’s evaluation of Semenya will include an endocrinologist, a gynecologist and a psychologist. Whether Semenya is genetically male will be only one of the factors considered. The test will also likely include a psychological profile to see whether she feels herself to be a woman.
The results of the test are not expected for several weeks. In the meantime, I cannot even begin to understand the sorts of emotions that a young adult might go through as the entire world waits to hear the outcome of their gender test.
Jul 112009
Jun 152009
I was engrossed by a recent study, reported in the New York Times: Golfers facing identical putts will make them more often when they are putting for par, than when they are putting for birdie. In other words, golfers try harder to sink a par putt than a birdie putt:
Of course, it makes no sense at all: each stroke counts as one on a scorecard, whether for eagle or triple-bogey on any particular hole. The goal is to finish with the fewest strokes, regardless of what each might be artificially termed. All else being equal — distance from the cup, one’s proximity to the lead or cut, the course difficulty and so on — putts should be handled the same way.
Statistically, after correcting for every other variable, the study found that golfers made their birdies about 3 per cent less often than their par putts. Big whoop, right? But as the Times points out, with about nine birdie attempts per round, that adds up to a one-stroke difference in each tournament — a difference that could mean hundreds of thousands of dollars in prize money over the year.
It’s an economic principle known as loss aversion: Essentially, players fear making a bogey so much they try extra-hard on their “last chance” for par. (It’s also a great opportunity to post a Simpsons clip.)
Jun 082009
This is kind of cool: after a full 18 innings of baseball, the San Diego Padres had burned completely through their bullpen and had even gone to the well for Friday’s starter, making him throw two innings against the Arizona Diamondbacks.
With nobody left, they were forced to call on their shortstop, who had luckily been a former high school pitcher:
Josh Wilson appeared calm and collected when he approached the mound for the Padres in the 18th inning Sunday at PETCO Park….
With no other options remaining, manager Bud Black signaled for the shortstop and former high school pitcher to head to the mound.
“We always look for emergency-type pitchers, and he was the guy,” Black said. “He was the logical choice.”
Amazingly, Wilson’s only been a Padre since mid-May — and he was called to pitch against his former team. Even more amazingly for an infielder, he actually pitched once for the Diamondbacks in early May. What are the odds?
Sorry to say that despite some fine pitching, he hung too juicy a strike out over the plate, and lost the game by giving up a three-run homer.
(Vintage Padres logo from this site, which I blogged about recently.)
Apr 242009
Ahhh, Busch Stadium in St. Louis. Home of the Cardinals. Home of the 80th All-Star Game.
I may never end up going there, but I do like baseball, and I’ll bet it would be a great time. Could you imagine? Get a nice seat, settle in for a great ball game, decide that maybe a brewski would taste good on this warm August day. Ha! It’s Busch Stadium — you know what kind of beer I’d get:
Yup, a cold Busch beer at Busch Stadium. Awesome.
Except, also, exceedingly difficult, at least according to a writer at the Riverfront Times:
Until this year the “cold as a mountain stream, smooth as its name” beverage had been available at nearly all of the dozens of stand-alone beer vendors found inside the ballpark’s concourses. This year those same vendors only offer Budweiser, Bud Light and Bud Select. And they do so only in 16-ounce, plastic bottles that sell for $7.75. … When I asked a vendor Wednesday night where I could get a Busch beer, she informed me that only three locations in the entire ballpark serve the libation.
Yikes! A spokesperson later clarified that there might be 10-15 locations where you can get Busch, but that’s still dwarfed by the number selling Budweiser. To put it in perspective, you can also get a St. Louis micro-brew, Schlafly, at about the same number of locations.
Interestingly, the writer also notes that the 16-ounce plastic bottles work out to a cost of 48¢/oz. Last year’s Busch tallboys were 24 ounces for a mere dollar more ($8.75) — which works out to a relative bargain at 36¢/oz.
No word on the cost of peanuts and Cracker Jack.
(Stadium photo from Flickr user Joe Penniston. Beer picture from Flickr user Speed-Light.)
Apr 182009
The New York Times — quality journalism for quality people — directs me to the tradition known as Donkey Ball:
a quirky twist on basketball in which humans ride donkeys. Called donkey ball, the pastime has been around since at least the 1930s, kept alive by fewer than a dozen family businesses that truck the donkeys to school gyms across the country in exchange for a cut of ticket revenue.
As the video above shows, it’s more of an excuse to ride donkeys in the gym than it is a real competitive sport. In fact, despite hundreds of YouTube videos, I had to search long and hard to find one that actually appeared slightly like basketball, and not just teens screaming with laughter as their peers tried to mount donkeys and either fell or were kicked. Entertaining, sure, but not Donkey Ball (unless kicked in the testicles?)
The New York Times says that the practice is starting to draw the ire of animal rights people. But the article is long on hyuck, hyuck, and short on finger-wagging.
I think the real problem is a lack of quality activities for rural kids (besides hillbilly heroin). Parents: This is your child on 4-H!
Apr 142009
Apparently on Monday, a dead goat was found hanging from the outstretched hand of the Harry Caray statue at Wrigley Field.
This also happened in 2007. I don’t know if it’s to remind the Cubs of the Billy Goat Curse, or to try to dispel it, but dead goats on statues is freaking weird.
I also don’t get the Harry Caray fascination. I guess he’s kind of adorable, but a statue?
Apr 062009
I don’t post much sports on here, so when I do, you can be sure it’s worth a look. I cannot believe how incredible this goal was. Since I don’t follow Brazilian soccer, I’m taking all my info from this New York Times post on the subject, but I’ll summarize:
- That incredible striker is 30-year-old Edinaldo Batista Líbano, known as “Grafite”
- That was his second goal in three minutes, and it put his team up 5-1 with about 12 minutes to go
- This means his team has now won eight straight (nine unbeaten) putting them in a tie for first
- They’ve done it at least partly on Grafite’s league-leading 20 goals so far this year
But seriously — that was an incredible goal. Watch it again.
UPDATE: Original video was removed, so I’ve found a replacement. Ignore the first 10 seconds, which is an ad.
Mar 082009
How else to explain the two songs I’ll post here, except in light of the fact that the Winnipeg Jets departed town and so did the military, leaving the Winnipeg Arena to be torn down and Kapyong Barracks to sit there like a thumb in your eye.
Here’s a track from erstwhile Winnipeg punk band Propagandhi:
Propagandhi – Dear Coach’s Corner
And here’s a video from Winnipeg band The Consumer Goods, in a similar vein:
(Full disclosure: I have given The Consumer Goods’ albums glowing reviews in the paper, and when they came through Brandon, I arranged and promoted a show, including putting the band up at my house.)
As you can hear, the two bands’ musical styles couldn’t be more different. And yet they’ve both got the same thing sticking in their craw: why is a kid’s game being co-opted to sell Canada’s military?
In my mind, there’s no real mystery: anyone who’s even glanced at a minor hockey team knows that they are run like a fascist dictatorship, that they are semi-military in their hazing and other rituals, and that there is a macho hockey culture that wouldn’t be out of place in the movie “300.”
But both bands hate the flag-waving, nationalistic fervour that has come to be associated with what they think is a kids’ game. And it intrigues me that both are from Winnipeg.
Also, both single out Coach’s Corner host Don Cherry as a main target. There’s certainly no more rabid xenophobe on television today, that’s for sure.
“Fuck Don Cheery.” That’s the Consumer Goods.
Propaghandi is slightly less direct. Addressing their song specifically to Ron MacLean, they refer to Cherry as a “sad old man,” and ask MacLean to explain “the distinction between these mandatory pre-game group rites of submission and the rallies at Nuremburg. Specifically the function the ritual serves in conjunction with what everybody knows is in the end a kid’s game.”
Yikes!
Writing from a city where “proudly supporting the troops” is nearly as required as wearing clothes in public, it’s easy to get dispirited when you see how people can get whipped up into a patriotic frenzy by troops rappelling from the rafters at the Winter Fair. There’s a lot of “if you’re not behind the troops, you can get in front of them” sentiment, and many people here don’t even care to listen to arguments about the validity of “the mission.”
It worries me when people can’t be critical thinkers. As Propagandhi puts it: “If diversity is disagreement, and disagreement is treason, well don’t be surprised if we find ourselves reaping a strange and bitter fruit.”
Feb 252009
Photo from a New York Times series examining the true impact of the Chinese Olympics.
China’s Olympics were stunning — a tour de force from start to finish, by every single account that I’ve read. It’s incalculable just how much money they poured into the venues, the accommodations, the atheletes themselves, and spectacle that surrounded the Games. (Some calculations peg it at $43 billion, but I think that’s low. It’s still triple any other host city.)
Now the question is, how much of that was wasted? I’ve read often that Olympic host cities, even if they go into debt over the Games themselves, are left with a net benefit, in terms of actual buildings and athletic facilities that can be put to good use for years to come. I just visited the Stade Olympique in Montreal a couple of years ago — and its subway was top-notch. That’s 33 years on, and still providing benefits.
Calgary is still using its Saddledome and alpine facilities — in fact, they’re renting out some 88 Olympic facilities to the Brits for 2010.
Vancouver hopes to use the athletes village for social housing.
But China might be left with some gigantic white elephants. From the LA Times:
Six months after the Games ended, [Beijing] continues to dazzle by night, with neon and floodlights dancing across the skyline. By day, though, it is obvious that many are “see-through” buildings, to use the term coined during the Texas real estate bust of the 1980s.
… 500 million square feet of commercial real estate has been developed in Beijing since 2006, more than all the office space in Manhattan. And that doesn’t include huge projects developed by the government … 100 million square feet of office space is vacant — a 14-year supply.
Yikes. The “Bird’s Nest” stadium? Empty except for one day this year. A less-than-a-year-old baseball stadium? Up for demolition. The press centre? “Cavernous” and “empty” says the Times:
The makeover of Beijing for the Olympics led to an estimated 1.5 million residents being evicted from their homes, according to the Geneva-based Center on Housing Rights and Evictions.
In this vibrant capital city of 17 million, there is an insatiable demand for housing, yet prices remain far out of reach of most residents …. Homes are being advertised for more than $1 million in gated communities …. Two- and three-bedroom apartments are offered for $800,000 …
The average salary in Beijing is less than $6,000 a year.