27 February 2002

Alicia Keys wins Best New Artist Grammy! Thanks for playing, Alicia. The Starland Vocal Band is making room for you at the shelter. They say a Grammy does pretty well at the pawn shop.

Seriously, Best New Artist is like the death knell for musicians. Hootie and the Blowfish. Paula Cole. Arrested Development. Mark Cohn (no relation). Christopher Cross. The Beatles.

OK, some folks avoided the jinx.

I'm liking Jon Stewart as host, and the bluegrass rocks!

26 February 2002

I spent this past weekend in Washington, DC, for a trash tournament at GW. I love DC, but this was the umpteenth time I've been there and not done any sightseeing or gone to any of the Smithsonian family of musuems. I really have to change that soon.

In any event, flew down Saturday morning (nothing to note there other than I was at the airport incredibly early, more due to when I got a ride into Boston rather than security concerns), got to BWI, got picked up, and it was off to the hotel, possibly the nicest Red Roof Inn I've ever stayed at.

From the picture, you can't tell that the hotel is smack dab in the middle of Chinatown. I didn't even know DC had a Chinatown. And, from walking around during the afternoon, there didn't appear to be a lot of Chinese in Chinatown. Biggest reason for that, we figured, was the MCI Center (home of the Caps and Wizards), which apparenly hosted events that afternoon and night. I imagine there have to be some Chinese folks living there, as in an apparent sop to the community one of the MCI Center signs has some Chinese on it (we assume it was "MCI Center" in Chinese, but none of us know the language).

As some would expect from having a relatively new arena in the area, the neighborhood is gentrifying nicely. There are still a lot of small Chinese restaurants, but Starbucks and Fuddrucker's have popped into the neighborhood as well. I would especially point out the latter, thanks to their overpriced hamburgers (and combo meals that don't include the drink!). Once KaBloom shows up you can kiss the old 'hood goodbye.

Didn't do much else, though we did wander around the outside of the National Building Museum while killing time before checking in. We also stumbled across the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial, which was interesting in that the sculpture part of it seemed to have lions threatening cubs rather than protecting them, even if protection was the intent. Other than dinner at the Capital City Brewing Company (which I recommend), it was a quiet day.

The tournament went well inasmuch as we won, but was not the most logistically pleasant event I've been involved with. There's trouble afoot when driving to and from GW's campus isn't the most frustrating part of the day (suffice it to say Pierre L'Enfant was successful when devising a street plan that would counfuse an invading enemy, and what he didn't do the feds have finished by plopping buildings in the middle of streets). My top three issues with the event:

1. No opening meeting at all. Not even a "you get one lame per round, no other special rules, go play!" This led to some confusion, and prevented someone from asking about how they'd break a standing tie to determine playoffs. That problem arose when three teams tied for the last spot (and, for the love of Mike, please don't create a schedule where not all the teams that could be involved in such a tie don't play each other so head to head is invalidated).

2. Editing to make questions more "interesting" at the cost of accessibility. Example: we had a question about Sigourney Weaver and her dad Pat, who was involved in creating both the Tonight Show and Today. For whatever reason, it was changed to include a third required answer in the form of Doodles Weaver, Pat's brother and Spike Jones collaborator. If you've heard of him, you're the first person I've met who did. What compounds this problem is that my team is already known for writing difficult packs, and we'll get blamed for it!

3. The GW folks have devised a music quiz called Heavy Rotation where clips are played and you try to name the tune and the artist. I've no problem with it per se, but it tends to add an hour to 90 minute delay to things, which for a one day tournament is deadly, especially if (like this one) the tournament runs late anyway. With an announced end time of 6:30, I figured I'd have plenty of time to make my 8:50 flight. As it was, we probably didn't get on the road until about 7:45. Should they continue to do this, I may just stop going to the tournament, as I really don't want to have to start making flight plans for 10 PM or (worse) stay an extra night if I don't have to.

For winning the tournament, the team got one of those singing hamsters that trills "Kung Fu Fighting" while making karate moves and spinning a mace (which isn't a martial arts implement, but I digress). I was thinking of laying claim to it so I could face it off against the one my office mate has, but his is about twice as tall. So I begged off (Chris got stuck with it, as he seems to get stuck with most of the prizes), but did get a copy of M*A*S*H in Morocco, which was cool.

22 February 2002

There was a time in my youth when dark pronouncements from Moscow, or veiled threats spoken by men with last names ending with combinations like -ov, -enko, -chev, or the like would be taken with utmost seriousness.

Those days, my friends, are over. The Russians know this, and generally act accordingly. Vladimir Putin, current Russian president, knows that his country is still a major player, but has the lamentable task of keeping Russia's place in the world after the Soviet breakup. He's got to deal with a loss of land, people, and an economic situation that Argentines would recognize, albeit much, much longer in duration. Russia fears increasing regionalization, losing global standing in the face of an expanded NATO, the EU, a China more open to the West, and new nuclear players like India and Pakistan who are opening a new era of multilateralism.

Which, even with Putin's remarks to the contrary, is why the rumblings of the Russian Olympic committee call for at least semi-serious consideration. International sports is perhaps the one place where Russia still has considerable pull, even though their athletic machine is showing as much rust as the average Russian factory.

Now, we're not talking mass destruction or the sweep of T-80s across the Fulda Gap, but there is some credit to the idea that the Olympics, without Russia, wouldn't be a whole movement. Even with what they consider a lackluster performance, Russia is in the top 5 for medals at Salt Lake, and will add to their numbers before everything wraps up. Consider too that since competing as Russia in 1994, Russia's won 42 winter medals. Their summer numbers are even better, and if you throw in the Unified Team and the USSR, the numbers put them second overall, trailing only the US. Take the Russians out of the Games, and the Olympics are closer to the Commonwealth Games than anything else.

On the other hand, though, you have to consider how much of this is frustration and how much of it is legitimate bias. These haven't been the best 48 hours for the Russians, and their claims run the gamut as far as believeablity goes. Did Slutskaya skate well enough for gold? Perhaps, but good luck proving tampering if there's not a Frenchwoman on the judging panel. Should Larissa Lazutina been barred from the cross-country relay? Perhaps, but I have no idea if increased hemoglobin really is a side-effect of menstruation. And did the Russian hockey team get shanked by the refs in their 1-0 win over the Czechs? Probably not, given the lackluster play the Russians have shown during the tournament.

In all of this I also see a little bit of dike (that's DEE-kay, not the single syllable pronunciation that would refer to levees or her). Dike is the ancient Greek principle of justice, sort of an Athenian "what comes around, goes around."

I apply it in this case given the USSR's shady international sports history, from the variety of chemical means used to bolster athletes (shared with friends like Czecheslovakia and East Germany) to their "no, it's not biased at all" 1980 Games that rivaled Berlin in terms of putting the best face on a corrupt and dying regime. The Russians are now reaping what they sowed, and will hopefully let calmer heads prevail before pulling up stakes and bailing on the closing ceremony and possibly Athens.

So as much as we all want to snicker at the Russians for what we may percieve as a tempest in a teapot, it may not be a bad time to at least listen well and reassure them that they're being heard. Besides, if they don't stay in the Olympic fold, this just may bring the Goodwill Games back to prominence, and who needs that?

21 February 2002

So last night may have been the greatest night overall in Winter Olympics history, at least for the US (and in a few ways for folks not from the US, though I imagine Kim Dong Sung and the majority of South Koreans don't think so). Among the notables:

US Rules Skeleton Tragedy and triumph with the men, and Home Depot's favorite daughter striking medals with one of Ohio's finest. And and Irish guy finished 4th! Yeah baby! Now if we could just get Duncan Kennedy to come up with a new comment other than how snow slows sleds...

Who Wants to Work for the ISU? First all the figure skating crap, now it seems we can't get a men's short track final without controversy. It's international sporting's answer to Enron! At least the long track skaters are keeping it normal.

Speaking of Speed Skating They must have taken all the karma meant for the US alpine ski team.

The Triumph of the Hyphenated American African-, Cuban-, Mexican-, Transplant Recipient-, Raised By Hippies-, Mono Infected-, the list goes on.

The Best Event Not Shown on NBC Ice Hockey. You thought I was going to say curling, didn't you? That gets a close second. Though technically, ice hockey has popped up on NBC, but only (a) late, and (b) showcasing Americans. To get the full taste of yesterday's incredible day of puck-chasing, you needed the full family of NBC cable options.

Which is too bad, as you would have missed two great defensive games (Russia beating the Czechs 1-0 and Canada besting Finland 2-1), a smackdown (US over Germany 5-0), and the second biggest upset in Olympic hockey history (Belarus- yeah, Belarus- topping the Swedes 4-3 on one of the weakest goals let up in the tournament). The US gets a Russian rematch (22 years TO THE DAY of the Miracle on Ice) while Canada gets the free pass to the gold medal game by playing Belarus. Or do they?

Thanks for nothing, Coca-Cola! Speaking of curling, we were watching the US-Switzerland match on CNBC, but were on NBC when Coke did their "let's try to recapture the moment and fail" bit by playing highlights over music, which worked much better at Sydney thanks to the almost infinitely better song ("Beautiful Day" by U2, as opposed to something I guess is called "Another Perfect Day" by some whiners). Anyway, one of the clips they showed was the Swiss women curlers celebrating. No need to turn back to CNBC now! And where's my Pepsi at?

The Croatian Sensation Janica Kostelic is Queen of the Mountain with golds in combined and slalom, and a silver in Super G. One wonders if she'll strip down like her countryman did in celebrating his Wimbledon title.

Even Jimmy Roberts didn't suck! His bit on US success at this Games was hardly memorable (it took me a minute to even remember what he talked about), but it wasn't the usual combination of travesty and crap he pushes. Unfortunately for him, Jim McKay wallowed neck-deep in pathos in relating the story of the Shea family, but did so with more success than anyone at NBC would ever achieve.

So yeah, a fun day. A couple of other notes;

1. If anyone I know watches Julia Louis-Dreyfus's new sitcom, I will pummel them. Then again, if the ads indicate the level of "humor" to be found on the show, it may not last as long as Hank Azaria's sitcom did. And how many of you even noticed that Azaria had a sitcom other than The Simpsons?

2. US-Canada women's ice hockey gold medal game today. WATCH IT.

19 February 2002

OK, two things are pissing me off.

First: I'm very happy for Jamie Sale and David Pelletier, but can we please get them off the TV? There's Jamie and Dave getting their medals. There they are watching other Canadian skaters. And look, they're all over the ads for NBC's highlight DVDs. How did Jamie and Dave get onto the Canadian ski jumping team?

I've seen more of these two than I have of Jim McKay over the last week, and that's bad.

Speaking of bad, Jimmy Roberts continues his descent into being Pat O'Brien's sub on Access Hollywood based on his pointless, uninformative, wholly pathetic "report" tonight on the drama surrounding the US women's bobsled team. It's incredibly sad when a guy who was a decent journalist turns a story that's naturally full of drama and controversey and makes it something that wouldn't even pass muster in the slot between Friends and Will and Grace.

Which is saying something given the dreck that's populated that time slot. Does anyone even remember Union Square?

My other irritant is the Finnish figure skating judge (or judges). They continuously give marks that are unexplainably low. Take Canadian skater Jennifer Robinson. Her required elements gave scores from 5.0 to 5.4... except for the Finn, who tagged her with a 4.8. The Finns were also the people who put Alexander Abt of Russian 10th in the mens' competition, 5 spots lower than his actual finish.

I assume the latter case is the Finns getting back for decades of being stuck in the Soviet sphere of influence, but the other marks I can't explain geopolitically. Perhaps they're jealous that the rest of us get the sun for normal periods of time during the winter.
Update to a previous issue: Mike Tyson was granted a boxing license in DC today. Apparently, the Tyson camp didn't feel fighting in Georgia would be appropriate after the governor used the term "sexual predator" in discussing Tyson.

So much for there being no such thing as bad publicity.

DC's mayor, whose office has less power than your average board of selectment, sees this as an opportunity for travel-related industries to get some help, as hotels and restaurants will get fight fans for the bout. He didn't even consider the sort of boon this might be for bail bondsmen. I suppose there'll be famous people who could use some locals for their posse, too.

I am less confused about this turn of events than I am the Georgia license, as DC's local governement is notoriously screwed up. The mayor's office seems to have more control over things now, but during the second administration of Marion Barry most of the power went to a control board. In any event, if the populace elects a convicted crack used for mayor, giving a boxing permit to Mike Tyson seems like small potatoes.

Not to mention that Tyson would hardly be the most dangerous man in DC. Even Tyson should think twice before strolling down New York Avenue.
I got called out for an incident, so I missed a lot of tonight's Olympic coverage. Returned home just in time for ice dancing finals. Woo.

Tom Hammond was going on about how the French pair that eventually won use clips from Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech in their program, and he didn't think it was appropriate. The way I see it, if it's appropriate to have a bunch of football coaches read the Declaration of Independence during the Super Bowl pre-game, pretty much everything's up for grabs. My greater concern was how do you dance to speech quotes? There was music, but it was odd. The whole performance was of the sort that just solidified whatever stereotype people have of the French.

Two couples fell during their dances, which seems really funny given that these skaters should be the most graceful.

Earlier in the day I did catch some hockey, but did not see the final of the Canada-Czech Rep. game. See now that it was a 3-3 tie, and that Canada will play Finland next. For some reason that's seen as a good thing by the Canadians, but I think the Finns are playing sharper than the Russians, evidenced not in the least by Finland's win over them earlier today. In a lot of ways the Russians are having the same problems as the Canadians in terms of playing to their level of talent.

Even so, the Canadians are the major disappointment so far in men's hockey. Tie the Czechs, get pasted by the Swedes. And the Germans? Glauben Sie an Wunder? Nein. The Germans stormed back from a 3-0 deficit only to lose 3-2. In the post-game, the German coach said he'd rather play the Americans next anyway. He apparently didn't think about:

1. The US being undefeated on US soil in Olympic ice hockey, and
2. The 8-1 throttling the US put on Belarus, the other qualifyer, a team with better talent than Germany. Of course, that game hadn't been played yet, so I'll cut him some slack there.

How do you say "bust out the whuppin' stick" in German? Oh.

Büste aus dem whuppin ' Stock.

Idiot reporter note: while talking to Katie Couric on Today this morning, some reporter gleefully noted she was going to the US game against Bulgaria. Why did I not shoot for a job in TV journalism again? Oh yeah, my teeth aren't big enough.

Speaking of big teeth and stupid reporting, Rick Reilly is apparently going off the deep end. His latest column on the back page of Sports Illustrated is about polygamy in Utah among some fringe Mormons. Check it out yourself here. I have two questions regarding this column:

1. What does it have to do with sports, other than these people live in Utah during an Olympics being held there, and

2. Is Reilly enough of a butt-munch to think that most guys want more than one wife? Seems like most guys think one wife is plenty. Of course, there's always the Homer Simpson take on things.

Reilly mystifies me, given that one week he writes something that's great, and the next week it's like his dura's got a slow leak.

More curling props, this time to the US women, who crushed Norway 11-2 through 7 ends (that's when Norway packed it in). Among the many things I like about curling is the ability to concede, as it saves a whole lot of time. I would like to see this in other sports. The Carolina Panthers could have started conceding sometime around September 20th and not put their fans through 15 straight losses, for example.

Finally, curse count is up to 23. Dropped one during an argument tonight. * Sigh *

16 February 2002

I spent today at what is, in some respects, a highlight of the college bowl season: the CBI regional tournament for New England.

CBI (in long form College Bowl, Inc.) is what most people think of when they think of college bowl. Allan Ludden asking questions to smartly-dressed future ad execs from Princeton, Dean Jones getting everything right in those Disney movies, or any of a number of TV shows which has some hackneyed quiz game where the featured performer gets a clutch last second question to win.

It is the oldest, and generally the least favored, form of quiz competition. The reasons for this vary, but generally boil down to four things:

1. The questions are often misleading, based on some minor personage dredged out of the depts of either Encarta or the Congressional Record, or based on the info box on the front page of USA Today ("Hey, Ecuador is the world's largest per capita exporter of gypsum... that's a question!).

2. The volunteers are often clueless.

3. The format is generally disfavored, as there's a general shift (among teams that play regularly) to more academic based, untimed games of uniform length and subject distribution. CBI questions use a lot of current events and random crap, are timed, and often have packs that at least have the perception of being weighted towards a subject (that may stem from CBI not having a public distribution, but perception often equals reality).

4. It's expensive. Between the mandatory question purchase to run a campus tournament and the fees for the regional, you can spend over $700. Heaven help you if you buy equipment through CBI, because you're easily talking four figures at that point.

My day was spent primarily as moderator (the person who reads the questions). I was also coach/institutional rep for the Babson team, as each team must have some sort of full time staff person with them at the event (because who can trust four young nerds at loose in the big city?).

Of the above four points, the first one was in force all day. CBI questions are an acquired taste, and reward the player who is (a) fast, and (b) willing to ring in and say the first reasonable answer that pops into your head. They are not questions with a lot of nuance, or facts for that matter.

These conditions perfectly suited a guy named James from Providence College (aka "Rain Man" for his tendency to stare into space before ringing in very quickly), which is how they wound up going undefeated into the final match against... BU, host and perennial third place finisher. More on how that turned out later.

The volunteer issue was a little less critical than in past years, as the BU team was able to provide a number of competent people to take the roles required by CBI. Which is another problem with the format: it requires 4 people to run a game. You have the moderator, the scorekeeper, the judge, and a person who works the clock and recognizes people who ring in to answer questions.

Which gets to one of the major issues among people who don't like the format. When a player rings in to answer a question, they must wait for recognition. Never mind the light that's on in front of them, they have to wait for someone to spit out their school name and personal name. When the person doing this isn't very good, it leads to a lot of fumbling and the occasional recognition of someone who didn't ring in. Not to mention it's just a pain.

If that rule was waived, you could run a round with 3 people, as the scorekeeper could work the clock. In theory, if the moderators were good enough you could even dispense with the judge, which would get staff down to 2 per room, which is ideal.

But the sticking point in many regions, including this one, is the moderators. And to understand the reason for that, we have to delve a little into how CBI runs things.

CBI does not run the tournaments per se (at least the regionals). They are in a partnership with ACU-I, the Association of College Unions - International, which is a professional organization of all people who work in college and university student unions. It's these folks who run the tournaments, and in pretty much all cases this is the only tournament they run all year (unless they run the on campus tournament).

Because it's a professional organization, you have people within it who are long-standing members of the community. Throw in then you also have people who, through this partnership, have also participated in college bowl for a while. What this results in is a tournament run by an ACU-I member who, not surprisingly, leans most on the other ACU-I people.

The problem is that the best moderators are generally not ACU-I people. The best moderators tend to be the people who read more frequently, and thus can read faster, clearer, and with fewer mistakes. They are generally folks from schools with standing college bowl teams.

I don't claim to be perfect, but I will say that I think I do a better job moderating than someone who only reads 10 rounds a year, because I often read three times that amount in a month. Even folks who don't read with that frequency anymore are better moderators because they have done that, and retain the experience. Moderators who've never done this can't replicate it.

So what wound up happening at the regional is that there were 9 moderators, about half of whom only have regional type experience. A good chunk of the other half (myself included) apparently weren't even included in the original moderator count (if you take the pre-printed named on the "best moderator" portion of the team ballots as evidence).

But when the smoke cleared and we had an idea of who was around, we were assigned randomly. Meaning that you had as good a chance of someone who gets through 12 questions a round reading an important match, while a skilled moderator read elsewhere.

This generally worked out OK, though there were a number of byes created by teams that didn't show (Connecticut College) or quit during the day (Northeastern and Middlebury). One hopes the latter teams get some sort of penalty other than spending a lot of money for nothing. But it did lead to the problem of some moderators being out there who didn't always grasp the rules, or the idea that you should only accept the correct answer. There is one moderator who is especially egregious about this, and who has been noted by a range of teams over the years as a lousy moderator, but who continues to read mainly because he's been around forever and can rely on his status to keep coming back (those who've played in the region know who I'm talking about, and those of you who haven't have no idea who he is, so I'll leave it there).

Back to game play, Providence and BU faced off in the final, the first final ever for BU after 10 years where we mostly came in third after losing to Harvard in the semis. Notable exception was our very first year, where Joel Kitay sealed his fate by drawing a letter that had us play eventual national champion MIT in the first round of a double elimination tournament. Two and out.

BU's had quite the year so far, qualifying for 2 national tournaments, but on this day they couldn't make it three. James from PC was too quick (and too good at giving the obvious answer) and BU seemed to get the worst bonuses at the worst times (worst in that they were on material they didn't know, though some of the questions were probably written poorly, too). That bonus problem let PC off the hook in the first game, which they won close. BU won the second pretty well, but got jumped on early in the last game and couldn't fight back.

So Providence gets to go to nationals... at Kansas State. It's almost like losing the battle and winning the war, except BU could get a berth via wild card. Wouldn't the joke be on them them?

PS- curse count is at 18 and rising. I don't think I'm going to get credit for Lent if this keeps up.

15 February 2002

They appear to work, just have to get them aligned properly.
I'm trying to add links in the upper left hand corner to the pages for Cooch, the Bruce, and Greg Sorenson. Let's see if they work...
Curse count: 10!
The cursing count is now at 9. Like I said, harder than I thought.

Evgeny Plushenko, Danger Kitty called, and they want their hair back!

Seriously, what is the deal? How can you get to the world championship level of anything, never mind a sport where style and grace are so highly prized, and still have hair that Judas Priest recanted 20 years ago? Not to mention you're competing against a passel of males who are single, thin, and neat. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Moving to something completely different, I almost never quit on a book that I've started. Once I make the commitment to start, I very rarely decide to give up, a reflex probably akin to how you don't leave after waiting a long time for an elevator, as once you leave it'll show up.

That being said, I had to bail out on Storied Stadiums by Curt Smith, a former Bush Sr. speechwriter and baseball fan. It's written in this Ring Lardner meets crystal meth freak prose, very choppy and full of this slang/jargon which slows things down even more. One review says it gets better after the first 150 pages, but the way I look at it it shouldn't take that long for a book on what should be a highly interesting topic to become readable.

There's also blessed little information on the stadiums themselves, so it's not even like the book keeps to the framework it sets out in the title. And there are all the random quotes, many not even baseball related, that I think the author put in just to show how smart he is.

Thinking back, there are only two other books I can think of that I've bailed on (I'm sure there are more, just can't think of them now). One was E. L. Doctorow's World's Fair, the other A Passage to India by E. M. Forester. I've been told the latter is very good once you get through the first 50 pages, but I never made it past the first 25. All the reviews of World's Fair that I read make it out to be a classic of American 20th century literature, so perhaps I should go back and give it another try.

Thinking of the baseball book, I should try to locate the list of books I read during my baseball book a week phase from 1996. For those of you who didn't see me go through it, I was trying to get back into baseball after the strike year in 1994, when I was incredibly bitter about the sport (not that I was the only one). I read some really great books during that time, and read some crap. Perhaps for the coming season I can go back to that list and make suggestions and the like. But perhaps I'll bump it back to a book every other week; once a week was fine when I was commuting and had a couple hours on the train each day to read, but there's no way I could hold that pace now.

14 February 2002

I wrote a longish piece today about my relationship with Sarah, but a problem with Netscape (which I'm increasingly annoyed with) led to me losing it. It's kind of a rock and a hard place thing: I don't like using IE as it's a tool of the Dark One, but Netscape is quickly moving to obsolescence, and it's owned by another Evil Empire. Time to spring for something not controlled by Gates or AOL.

So Blogalicious is all about the love today, it being Valentine's Day and all. I will try to write again on the original topic: how Sarah and I got together and all of the time that went from there to this past summer, when we went public (or, as you'll see, it was more how I went public).

I should start by thanking an individual and a company. First, thanks to Matt Bruce for hosting a pair of college bowl tournaments during the summer of 1999, as Sarah came down to help at both and wound up staying with me (in the spare room!). Second, thanks to Boston Edison for sucking just enough to have a power outage that lasted from our return to campus after the second tournament until after Sarah left. For it was that power outage that led Sarah and I to stay up most of the night talking, planting in both of us the notion that perhaps there was more there than met the eye (though it wouldn't have taken much, given that we were sitting in the dark).

Time passed, emails were exchanged, hints dropped. And more hints dropped. And yet more hints dropped. Sarah is a very patient woman, although I have to admit towards the end I was kind of playing along, trying to make a decision between going for it and heeding a very clear warning.

This is where the secret part of things comes into play. In more than one meeting, the director of my department at BU told us, in no uncertain terms, that dating students was not allowed, and we could expect to be sent packing were we discovered doing so. In an area of student affairs where the gray area often dominates, that sort of clear language was a clarion call.

But I went ahead and started seeing Sarah. In the words of Buffy Summers, "Love makes you do the wacky."

The first date was a combination of the dorky and romantic. Saw the Imax film on Egypt starring Omar Sharif (a fave of Sarah's) and got dessert at Caffe Vittoria in the North End.

And then things went from there. It's kind of funny to think, but since that date we've done a few fun/romantic things, but we settled into our relationship quickly. Probably because we'd known each other for a couple years beforehand, and we'd spent so much time talking about things.

Talking, or more broadly "communication," is probably the cornerstone of our relationship. Neither of us is afraid to talk about things that bother us, and we're both willing to give answers that may not be popular but do address the issue at hand. We've never had a major blowout, thanks mostly to this ability to talk things out (there are those who say the occasional blowout is good, but I think they're thinking about the making up more than anything else).

Not that we're perfect. I'm a slob, and Sarah tends to nag (she's giving it up for Lent). But we do the best we can, and so far it's been pretty darn good.

Kind of funny to think I'm in love, given the general lack thereof previously. But there it is. I am in love, as sad, sweet, pathetic, joyous, and all together indescribable as it may be. Sarah often asks why I love her, and the only answer I can come up with is like that Potter Stewart did when writing about obscenity: I know it when I feel it. And I know that I am in love, and am very happy that I can say it now.

Sarah, if you're reading this (and I think you will, after I told you I had something that got lost), I love you. I couldn't say it publicly for too long, but I can now, and won't stop doing so.

Ever.

13 February 2002

During the hour and a quarter that I was at Babson's college bowl practice tonight, I cursed three times. The union of cursing and college bowl is obvious to anyone who's played, but this giving up cursing for Lent thing is going to be difficult.

Unrelated Olympic coverage note- From watching hockey on CNBC I've noticed that former channel 7 (WHDH in Boston if you're not from around here) anchor Liz Claman is now co-anchoring some early morning show called First Call. Given her work for the tabloid/action news coverage that she did here, if she told me the sky was blue I'd prepare for a world with clouds floating on a sea of puce.
For those who care, I went with giving up cursing for Lent. Gosh darn it, I'll make sure not to curse over the next 40 days, or I'll have to go fudge myself.

Also went and got the ashes for the first time in a long time. Got them from one of the Protestant ministers on campus (though it was a Catholic ceremony), so I hope they count. I assume the priest wouldn't have let other religious types do it if it didn't count. I will say that my guy drew a pretty good cross.

Of course, I had a turkey sandwich for lunch today, so the whole thing may be moot. I usually eat meat on one day I'm not supposed to during Lent, so I look at it as getting it out of the way early.
We interrupt what would be yet another Olympic recap for breaking news:

Mike Tyson was granted a boxing licence in Georgia. So much for "The South Shall Rise Again."

Seriously, what the hell are these people thinking? They don't have enough mayhem and rape in the state, so they have to import some? Why not have the Falcons pick up Darrell Russell while we're at it.

I could almost see the logic in this if it were yet another rematch with Evander Holyfield, but as the saying goes: once bitten, twice shy.

I'm looking forward to the day when cock fighting, bear baiting, and fishing with dynamite are all returned to their legal place in the Peachtree State.

Back to the Olympics:

No surprise that on the first night of men's figure skating, we see the return of the sappy human interest feature. If I were a woman, I would find Dick Ebersol and cold-cock him. The assumption that women will only watch sporting events when they're packaged up like a Hallmark made for TV movie is insulting. Can whoever's running NOW do something about this?

Too many ads, and the continuing mid-event NASCAR promos still need to go.

A technical innovation that I do like is when they put the skiiers side by side so you can compare runs and see the differences that led to a given result. The comparison of Picabo Street's run to the woman who won the downhill was excellent. They used this with the guys, too, also to positive results. If there's a way to adapt this to other events, it should be done post-haste.

The German hockey team lived up to my hype by winning their pool, besting Latvia 4-1 last night. That was with Latvian star Arturs Irbe, who finally got permission from the NHL to go to Salt Lake (this after his team was willing to let him go but was blocked by the league). I have to think this affected Irbe's play, as he did not look sharp. It could also be that he was rusty, given that I don't think he played for the Hurricanes during his Carolinian Captivity.

For winning their group, Germany advances to a new group that includes Canada, Sweden, and the Czech Republic. Thanks for playing!

Happy trails to Picabo Street, and a don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split 'ya to Todd Eldridge.


12 February 2002

And now for the other half, 4B: LENT

I'm in a bit of a state as to what I should give up for Lent. I've got a couple thoughts running around in my head.

The first is cursing. Which is a fine idea, but may run counter to the thinking that you should give up something for Lent that's not something you shouldn't be doing in the first place. I counter with the idea that perhaps things would have worked out better if, say, Ted Bundy gave up killing for Lent. Perhaps that would have set him straight. Bastard would probably still have fried, and rightfully so, but it may have saved a couple dozen lives.

The other option is soda. Sarah thinks this idea is "stupid," but is hard pressed to give reason why. I think she believes it's not "Lent-worthy," though she thought giving up ice cream wasn't stupid. I actually think this would be harder, as I usually only ate ice cream at lunch (don't even do that now), while I drink a lot of soda. I also think this may be healthier, from an empty calorie, blood sugar, and tooth decay perspective.

I also think Sarah feels like if I give it up she'll have to as well. I've tried explaining it to her that she can continue to drink soda, but she's not getting it. Anyone who can make this clearer to her please let me know and I'll get you in touch with her.

Come to think of it, I don't know what she's giving up for Lent. Or even if she has to, given that she's a non-denominational Protestant. Personally I think if she's really planning on coming over to us, she should give something up, too.

I've also entertained the notion of giving up giving things up for Lent. It's an old kid sort of thing, what you'd say you were giving up before your parents boxed your ears and somehow you wound up quitting bubble gum for the duration.

However, given the current state of diocesian affairs, I also feel like I should be able to skip giving something up this time around out of spite. Not exactly the most Christian response, and I can assume it's not going to get the Vatican seal of approval, but outside of writing a letter to Cardinal Law telling him to go stuff his cassock it's up there in the list of things that would make me feel better.

Moving on to issue 4A: MY CHURCH

Turns out that one of the half-dozen priests who got named in the widening scandal involving Boston-area priests who had a problem keeping their hands off of little boys was "in residence" (whatever that means) at St. James the Great in Wellesley. This, after some parish shopping, is where Sarah and I settled on for our semi-regular Sunday attendance. You can understand if we're less than enthusiastic about the way we made the papers.

Problem is that we're not big fans of the other two Catholic churches in town. One is St. John the Evangelist, which apparently draws families with young kids from the Wellesley Hills and Newton Lower Falls areas. It was the first church we went to out here, and it was OK, except for some of the detail things that tend to make or break church going. The church is oddly-shaped, with a huge wing going off at a 45 degree angle to the altar. The kneelers are padded with the least cushioning material known to man; I know my knee pain is small potatoes compared to the whole crucifixion thing, but why not just have no padding rather than make a cruel joke of it?

And there were all the kids. Many, many kids.

The other option is the nearby St. Paul Church. Problem there is that it's very high churchy, yet then goes in the completely opposite direction by SINGING THE LORD'S PRAYER. Honestly, if they just said it, I would probably be fine with the place.

Add on to this that Sarah is looking into coming over to play for our team, and needs to start some sort of adult ed program. As bad as my Sunday school was, at least it wasn't led by suspected pederasts.
Issue number three: OLYMPICS

Canadian pair gets screwed out of gold medal. Everyone who's surprised raise your hand.

A co-worked summed it up best when he noted that figure skating is to the Winter Games what boxing is to the Summer Games. Someone has to get screwed.

Then again, a screw job may be what it'll take for this guy to win gold.

Americans sweep men's halfpipe. Isn't that what they all share after the event?

Picks for tonight: Germany v. Latvia in hockey (CNBC, 9 PM) to see who goes on to the elimination round, men's 500 meter speed skating (starts 3 PM EST, but will air on NBC prime time at some point today), and men's figure skating short program (also lumped in to prime time coverage).

And props to the US men's curling team for their 10-5 takedown of Sweden.
Next topic: OSCARS

The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring leads all nominees with 13, while A Beautiful Mind and Moulin Rouge took 8 nods each. (In a nod to my predicting streak, I said Mind would get 8 nods, though I thought Ed Harris would squeak one out).

While I've not perused all the nominations carefully, I will say that I'm pleased that Rings got so many nominations. It's an epic movie the likes of which isn't seen much anymore (unless you count neopseudoepics like Titanic). That Peter Jackson was able to cut the first 100 pages of the book, make a movie that's over 3 hours long, and come up with something on a monumental scale is damn impressive.

The downside to the nominations is that many of them are technical in nature. The only acting nomination is a supporting actor nod for Ian McKellen, who plays Gandalf. It may help that he's the odds-on favorite to win, though Jon Voight's depiction of Howard Cosell in Ali is a real contender, too.

Supporting actor may be my favorite category, as the other two nominations went to Jim Broadbent for playing Iris Murdoch's husband in Iris (which I don't think played within 20 miles of my apartment), and to Ben Kingsley for his role in a film called Sexy Beast (which I saw trailers for, but also don't think was shown anywhere around here, at least for any period of time).

And then there's Ethan Hawke getting a nomination for Training Day. Huh?

Even with the leading number of nominations, I fear that Rings will get overshadowed by Mind, a decent film whose critical success I'm at odds to explain. Ron Howard dodged some thorny issues to make a film whose depiction of mental illness is at times great (such as the way we are eased in to the knowledge that there's a problem) and at times hard to take (a lot of the post-hospital, back at home in Princeton stuff strikes me as being a Markie Post away from Lifetime). As I've noted before, Ron Howard doesn't exactly make challenging films (you'd never mistake The Paper for All the President's Men), but he is an excellent craftsman, and has a Hollywood pedigree that makes him a good Oscar candidate.

I've not seen Moulin Rouge, but I'm confused at its awards success based on all the reviews I read when thinking about seeing it. Most saw it as daring yet flawed, an attempt at merging the musical with post-modern movie making that didn't quite work. I suppose we should try to reward such attempts. I still think Nicole Kidman should have gotten a nod for her work in The Others, but I'll have to take it on faith that her Rouge work is better.

Also, lots of nominations for Godsford Park, a Robert Altman ensemble film that is odd for him in that (a) it's not 4 hours long, and (b) it's full of British people. Some consider him a genius, other a senile crank. Doesn't matter, probably, as even if this movie is celluloid genius from start to finish it's got to fight not only big-studio films but the Mirimax machine behind In the Bedroom.

The lack of nominations for Black Hawk Down surprised me in these U!S!A! times, but there were a few apparent snubs:

* Gene Hackman didn't get a nomination for The Royal Tenenbaums, Billy Bob Thornton didn't get a nod for any of his work in Bandits, The Man Who Wasn't There, or Monster's Ball

* Baz Luhrmann made a film- Rouge- that was good enough to get 8 nods, but didn't get a director's nod. Ridley Scott and David Lynch got nods but their films (Black Hawk and the TV pilot turned feature Mullholland Drive) didn't for best picture.

* The Harry hype is officially over, as Harry Potter and the Sorceror's/Philosopher's Stone only got 3 nods, all technical/artistic.

I'll be writing more on this as we get closer to the awards, of course. In related news, Freddie Got Fingered picked up 8 Razzie nominations, impressive given that there's only like a dozen categories.
OK, lots going on, so I'll try to break them into doable bits.

BEANPOT BU regains its rightful ownership of America's most coveted crockery, beating Northeastern 5-3.

Not that it was easy. After 33 minutes or so of playing textbook hockey and a number of logic-defying saves by NU goalie Keni Gibson (OK, he's pretty good, even if he spells his name funny), BU went into a 7 minute period-ending funk that saw them give up two power play goals and Sean Fields not getting his glove on a softie that gave the Huskies a 3-2 lead going into the final period.

From reading game stories on Boston.com, it seems that a lot of people thought we'd win going away, and if Gibson didn't stand on his head for the entire first period, BU would have. Fourteen shots, pretty much each one a quality scoring opportunity. I have to admit surprise, as NU was 8-1-1 in its last 10, a run started with their 3-0 win at Walter Brown which I still think was the worst home game I've even seen BU play, even in the seasons where we sucked.

Third period was pretty evenly played, but BU managed to get even on a Mike Pandolfo goal (his penalty led to the second NU goal) and take the lead for good with a Justin Maiser roofer with under 2 minutes to play. NU missed an open net twice in the third period, some sort of karmic payback for BU not scoring 3 or 4 times in the first period.

Fields played well enough to win, but could have given the game away with his desire to be like Ricky DiPietro. Fields likes to wander, sometimes far enough out to look like he's leading the break. At some point he's going to have to realize his skating and puck handling are good but not good enough to come six feet out of the net or dally around with the puck while opponents bear down.

BU victory was iced with a late NU penalty and a BU open net goal with 2.5 seconds left, a goal apparently meant as a shiv in the gut to the NU fans, if Jack Baker's blowing kisses to the rafters was any indication. NU coach Bruce Crowder started his post-game by yelling at the refs across ice and then by sulking in the tunnel during the awards. Baby. It's rare that a coach should have to take lessons from his team as far as grace and sportsmanship goes, but I hope Crowder was watching his team as they sucked it up and stood on the blue line during the awards. They exhibited a level of class their coach doesn't possess.

I was a little off on my previous writing on this subject, as the win gives BU 24 of the 50 Beanpot titles. Not that anyone's counting.

10 February 2002

So after a couple of days of coverage, here's my take so far.

First, we're apparently back to the Memorex Games. Most of last night's coverage was taped, with the possible exception of the second run for men's luge.

I'm of two minds on this. On the one hand, taping does allow us to see events at a more convenient time, rather than missing stuff because we have to work or otherwise can't be in front of a TV all day.

On the other hand, the way NBC uses tape is the real problem. Consider that last night they crammed luge, speed skating, the men's downhill, speed skating, and women's halfpipe into 3.5 hours of coverage that also included interviews will all three US women figure skaters (as NBC continues to build the hype for the last event of the Games, which won't start for at least another 10 days), a preview of tonight's pairs final (featuring a North American pair seeking to end Russian dominance, because why say Canadian when you can get the word America in there in some context?), and taped bits from Jimmy Roberts and Jim McKay.

At least some of this could have gone in during the afternoon, when NBC gave us exhaustive coverage. From 3 to 5 PM. Consider that the ski jumping started at 10:30 AM Eastern. I don't know what you saw where you live, but in the Boston area you got infomericals from noon to 2 PM. Why show live Olympic coverage when you can see the wonders of the Paint Stick?

So my main beef with taped coverage is that it allows NBC to package coverage as it sees fit, showing whatever portions of an event they want. The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat is now the thrill of edited for time competition that best fits our programming model. I suppose it should be noted that NBC is at least showing events the US doesn't win, but given American lack of prowess in many of the winter events coverage would be sparse otherwise.

Going to the studio, Costas is in his better element as host, as his excess verbiage is kept in check. The taped pieces by Roberts and McKay aren't bad, as they at least touch on sports, rather than the True Confessions sort of crap that's dominated such segments in the past. I still don't care for Roberts much, though I'm less clear about what my problem is with him. It could just be his tone of voice and delivery make me want to sucker punch him. His piece on the "next wave" in British ski jumping after Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards was fine.

McKay is clearly better with the taped segments, and his piece on US downhill champ Bill Johnson was tremendous. For those of you who don't know the story, Johnson was attempting a comeback to make the US downhill team at the age of 41 and after being out of competitive world class skiing. He wiped out and suffered a serious brain injury, serious enough that he was not expected to live. As you might expect from a former Olympic champ, he fought through and survived, but his injuries had a profound effect on him. Most of his post-1984 memories are gone, and he has to go through a full regimen of therapies to regain his abilities to walk, talk, remember simple words and phrases. The story was moving and sad, with a little bit of hope, and is the sort of story that should be shown during the Olympics, rather than stories on how a current athlete overcame the heartbreak of psoriasis.

The best coverage for the first two days, though, comes from CNBC. They've been showing Olympic hockey, two games a night. At first you'd think that watching games like Latvia versus Austria would fairly suck, but rather it's been fun to watch. Unlike the NHL, the emphasis in Olympic hockey is skating and passing, rather than 60 minutes worth of neutral zone trap and dump and chase. There's less hitting, but hitting nevertheless (especially in the Germany v. Austria grudge match last night).

The story here is that Latvia, the last team to qualify for the Olympics, and Germany, who lost their top player, Washington Capitals goalie Olaf Kolzig to injury, are in contention to move on to the medal round, while Slovakia, with its raft of NHL stars, is done.

How did this happen? For Germany, it's been the play of goaltender Marc Seliger, who doesn't even start for his club team in Nuremburg. He shut out the Slovaks and held on against Austria to lead the Germans to a 2-0 record. For Latvia, it's been gritty play without its best player, goalie Artus Irbe, who is stuck with the Carolina Hurricanes until tomorrow.

Which leads me to a problem. The NHL, unlike Nagano, is not shutting down during the Olympics. Or, rather, not during the prelims, making it very difficult for countries with only a handful of NHL players to have them in the fold for these important qualifying games. The Slovaks would like to have a word with Gary Bettman, I'm sure, given that the bulk of their talent missed the first game against Germany, and were barely off the plane before they had to suit up against Latvia.

It's not a fair tournament when the best players are only available at the whim of their NHL clubs. The league should either shut down for the entirety of the Olympic tournament, or not shut down at all.

Looking at the overall picture, NBC's coverage has been satisfactory. Let's hope they better utilize the weekends, and give the tape machines a rest.

09 February 2002

As most of you know, I like the Olympics. A lot. Always have, as it appeals on both the athletic and international fronts. Which is why NBC's coverage of the Olympics has always annoyed me, as it doesn't focus on either. There were times during coverage from Atlanta and Sydney that NBC's Olympic coverage looked more like a marathon of Lifetime's Intimate Portraits.

And then there's the tape delay. I won't harp on this, other than to note during last night's opening ceremonies for the Salt Lake City Winter Games, Bob Costas was brimming with glee when he finally got to use the words "Australia" and "live" in the same sentence.

I have better hopes for these Olympics, as their location in the Mountain time zone would suggest that everyone in the US could see events live at times not too far off from prime time. My fear is that all the live stuff will get relegated to MSNBC and CNBC, and NBC will program as usual. But we've got two weeks and change to see how that'll work, so I'll reserve judgement.

What I will comment on, though, is the opening ceremonies. I have to admit a certain impatience with opening ceremonies in general, as they sometimes seem to work at cross-purposes. Everyone wants to see the athletes come in, and then see the flame get lit, but then there's all this Up With People stuff mixed with nods to the locals and their history to keep everyone happy.

Last night was no exception, as the ongoing theme of "the fire within" ran throughout the "artistic" portion of the ceremony, which included skaters representing the fire, icicles, eagles, choo-choo trains, bears, buffaloes, and some stuff which I think was left over from Albertville. It made precious little sense, but that's by and large how these things go.

I did like that much of this stuff took place while skating, keeping at least a tangential relationship to the sports that brought everyone there. Some of the artistic/cultural stuff wasn't so bad, either. The bear and buffalo that I refer to were done sort of like Chinese New Year dragons, with many people inside. Representatives of the five local native tribes got together for the first time (apparently ever) to play the flute and commiserate on casino location. And there were people dancing to Aaron Copland's "Rodeo," which most folks know from the beef commericals.

But then there were the Dixie Chicks playing along with them. And Sting and Yo-Yo Ma apparently paying tribute to the anterior cruciate ligament by playing "Fragile." R. Kelly did his usual proto-gospel stuff, dressed like Apollo Creed's stand-in. And LeAnn Rimes, who I didn't even know was in the music business anymore, came out and sang something. Couldn't tell you what, as by this time I had flipped over to The Simpsons to watch the episode where Sideshow Bob hypnotizes Bart to kill Krusty a la The Manchurian Candidate.

There were good parts, of course. The parade of nations is always fun, even if NBC felt the need to cut away from it three times for commericals. The group carrying in the Olympic flag was pretty damn impressive: John Glenn, Lech Walesa, Desmond Tutu, the Japanese guy who won the 500 meter speed skating event at Nagano, Cathy Freeman from Australia, Steven Spielberg, Jean-Claude Killy, and Jacques Cousteau's son.

That reminds me: when did the environment become a pillar of the Olympics? I mean, I'm all for trees and stuff, but something's funny here.

Which reminds me of another discordant note: the prominence of the doping issue in the Olympic Oath and in IOC President Jacques Rogge's remarks. I know it's been a huge issue, and I'm glad that the IOC recognizes that, but it was odd to hear references to not doping right in there among the usual words about competition and whatnot.

Back to the teams for a second: did you notice that the US got their hip togs from Roots, a Canadian outiftter? After the Canadians looked all hip at Nagano in their letterman's jackets and Kangol-style hats, it was clear that the US had to dtich the Levi's inspired jeans, wool-lined jacket, and cowboy hat look. That this change took place when the Olympics were finally in the West adds to the irony. Even with the change, the Canadians still outpaced the US sartorially, with their (maroon? cordovan? ) leather jackets and wide scarves.

The torch lighting was great. I'd head that Mike Eruzione was going to light the cauldron earlier in the week in a sort of extended grapevine fashion that also said he'd light it with the captain of the 1980 Soviet hockey team. That didn't happen, but having the whole team up there to do it was tremendous. They're like the New England Patriots of Olympic hockey (or is that the other way around?).

I think I would have enjoyed the whole thing more if NBC's coverage team wasn't so annoying. Bob Costas continues to believe the hype that he's the next Cosell or something, as he (a) couldn't shut up, and (b) didn't find anything too stupid to voice. Katie Couric (who is now apparenly blond) did her Today show best, but often lapsed into Macy's Thanksgiving Parade mode.

I felt the worst for Jim McKay, though. For people my age and above, McKay is the voice of the Olympics just as Keith Jackson is the voice of college football or Vin Scully is the voice of baseball (can someone PLEASE get him back on network coverage?). NBC got him on loan from ABC to provide his perspective, and add weight to coverage that may, if the past is any indication, be as light as the snow that covers the Wasatch Range.

That being said, his work from the booth was awful. Right out of the gate he couldn't even get through his introduction and greetings without losing place. His work on the pre-taped opening was vintage, giving some hope that his performance in set-pieces will be up to his normal standards. I fear that continued live work, either in studio or at venues, will present the same challenges as the opening ceremony did.

Oh, one incredibly tacky moment from the coverage that I almost forgot. In the middle of coverage on ski jumping practice runs, NBC throws in a promo for pole qualifying at some NASCAR race. Unless the cars are running down a 90 meter hill, I don't give a damn!

I would also like to note that the hour or so of "pre-game" coverage was by and large a waste. Jimmy Roberts asking softball questions to Michelle Kwan and Apollo Ohno is not entertaining.

Comment should probably be made about the level of nationalistic fervor on display during the opening. I don't think there was an easy way to deal with this issue. Soft-pedal things and you risk looking insensitive to everything that's happened since September 11. Drape everything in red, white, and blue, and we get the usual accusations of jingoism.

I'd have to say that the Salt Lake folks did the best they could with this. At times it seemed laid on a little thick (like the NYPD singing cop doing his medley of patriotic songs), but generally the level of pro-US sentiment didn't make me think we were forming new enemies.

So kind of a mixed bag for the opening. I was really hoping to see the Osmonds reunite for an all-star Mormon tribute to polygamy, but no such luck.

08 February 2002

I have a very short name. Two words, four letters each. Mark Coen. Seems very simple, doesn't it? After a lot of thinking, there are few people I know with shorter ones, the only one I know personally is this guy. Then there' s this Hall of Famer and this architect (which reminded me about this other architect).

So how is it that a name as short as mine gets misspelled so often?

The last name is the usual culprit, as there are many more C-O-H-E-Ns in the world than C-O-E-Ns (or perhaps just more here in the States). In any event, I have clear memory of having to correct the school librarian when I was in second grade as to the spelling of my last name. From there on out, I've pretty much taken to spelling it out for people from the start.

Spelling my first name with a 'c' at the end is less prevalent, but crops up from time to time. Of late it seems to ride in tandem with the last name misspelling in an all-or-nothing proposition. I had a trifecta going when I was at BU as a work-study not only spelled my name wrong, but screwed up my job title as well. He was not our best work-study.

Odder still is that one office on campus here went from spelling my name correctly to Marc Cohen at some point between semesters. Perhaps they've got someone new sending out reports, I don't know.

My other favorite are students who misspell my name in correspondence, even though my name is typed out on the letter they are responding to. Not as big at Babson, where most of my communication with students is by email, but at BU I'd say the student letters that screwed up my name outpaced those with the correct spelling something like 6 or 7 to 1. With that sort of thoroughness, it should not surprise you that most of these letters were related to judicial cases, and that the logic they contained usually mirrored the thought put into spelling.

Conclusion? None. Just felt like writing about this.

07 February 2002

Test worked. As you can now see, hopefully, I've added a link on the left there so you can email me if you want to comment about what an idiot I am. Or say something nice, if that's the case.
Testing something!
One of my post-Super Bowl fears has been realized.

You know the Britney Spears Pepsi ad, and how there were 4 or 5 ads that didn't get shown when they lost the on-line voting? They're showing up on TV now, without any sort of warning or care that people who bleed from the ears whenever Britney's warbling voice hits the air may be watching.

The surf-themed ad (or, as I call it, "Beach Blanket Bimbo") cropped up during Ed last night. Thankfully I was reading during the commercials, so I was able to deflect some of the severe mental damage.

Speaking of Ed, will some of you people start watching the damn show? It's funny, it's cute, and it's beginning to back off of the Warren Cheswick focus it had to start the season (for those who don't watch, Warren Cheswick is this generation's Skippy Handleman, but without the adoption and with a father played by Curtis "Booger/Herbert Viola" Armstrong).

If you really aren't familiar with the show, Ed is the story of a man in his early 30s who, after getting fired from his law firm and catching his wife in flagrante delicto with a mailman, goes a little crazy, returns home to Stuckeyville, Ohio, and embarks on a plan that requires him to buy a bowling alley and try to win the heart of the high school prom queen/sweetheart Carol Vessey.

My fandom for the show (aside from it coming from Dave Letterman's World Wide Pants) is the "there but for the grace of God go I" vibe. Although, as I think of it:

1. I was never fired from a law firm, having chosen to skip practice altogether.
2. Have never caught my wife cheating with the mailman, as (a) I am not married (yet), and (b) the mailman doesn't come to our building.
3. My hometown doesn't have a bowling alley.
4. I didn't have any interest in the most popular girls in my high school then, and I don't now.

Which basically leaves that I'm a male in my early 30s who may or may not have gone a little crazy (jury's out there).

In an event, I still like the show. And it has the guy who used to do the voice for the Pets.com Sock Puppet Dog (who is annoying but handled in small doses, thankfully).

06 February 2002

In all the Patriots hurly burly, I almost forgot to mention the Beanpot.

(Aside: I had to use that link because there is no official website for the tournament that I can find. Odd.)

For the one or two of you tuning in who may not know, the Beanpot is a college hockey tournament featuring the teams from BU, Harvard, Northeastern, and BC. It's the country's oldest such tournament, and this year sees its golden anniversary.

I won't get into the games too much, other than to note that Northeastern beat Harvard and BU beat BC in a fairly ugly game marked by (a) a shorthanded goal by BC, and (b) an own-goal by BC that shifted momentum pretty much for good.

BU-Northeastern was the first Beanpot final my freshman year. I didn't see it. The team my freshman year was pretty lousy; the first two games I went to were a pair at home against Maine, which we dropped by a combined score of 15-3. While I was hooked even in defeat, I figured that the average student wouldn't give one whit about the Beanpot (given our chances), so I sauntered down the morning of the ticket sale to get my ducats.

Only to find a couple thousand of my classmates already in line. Thus I learned the first lesson of the Beanpot: it is as much social occasion as hockey tournament. From that point on I've not missed one, regardless of if I had to sleep out, get vouchers, grub tickets from friends, whatever. It turned out that I listened to NU win their fourth and most recent 'Pot while working on an article for the Freep.

The next year saw us play Harvard, which was memorable on a few fronts.

First, as I was leaving my room to head down to the Garden, the phone rang. It was the Warren Towers residence life office, concerned that I'd not scheduled an RA group interview, and that the only open time was in a half hour. Could I make it?

Off came the sweatshirt, on went the coat and tie. Had to shave, find T change, and read the scenario. As it turned out I was the only person from that group to get an RA position, and was even wanted by the folks at Warren. Perhaps I am fated to work in student affairs after all.

The second memorable thing about this game was the horrid, excremental play of BU goalie Peter Fish. You can go on about Jason Tapp, but Fish was, without a doubt, the worst goalie to put on the scarlet and white since I've followed the team. And that includes third stringers like Andy Warren and Chris Bice. The highlight of the 9-6 loss to Harvard was Fish sweeping the puck into his own net.

The win was also memorable as it propelled Harvard on their national title run (even though they didn't win the ECAC title; a cookie to the first person to tell me who did win). BU would get the first solid "triple crown" in my memory for taking the Beanpot, Hockey East, and NCAA tourney titles.

From my years watching the Beanpot, a rule has emerged for who wins when:

Harvard Wins in years of Presidential succession, such as 1989 and 1993. It's not that they have to win in those years (they didn't win last year), but that's when they can win.

Northeastern Wins in years where the third digit is an eight. They've won four Beanpots, all in the 1980s. Should this rule stand, the Huskies have a long wait ahead.

Boston College Can win once a decade, as they did in 1976, 1983, 1994, and 2001. So it's another eight years for them.

Boston University Wins all they can.

Seriously, should the Terriers take the title this year, they will have won exactly half of all the Beanpots. They made up for not winning until the event's sixth year by winning six in a row from 1995 to 2000.

Anyway, the NU-Harvard match was the early game, a significant problem given that they bring the fewest fans. NU has a fairly rowdy core of fans, but not much else. Harvard has a smattering of students and alums, but the only time they get rowdy is when the cheese table is out of brie. If nothing else, Harvard's band has let their hair down a bit, having switched from crimson blazers to hockey jerseys. They still play an unusual selection of music for a pep band; the one song I clearly made out when they were playing was "Rule Brittania."

In any case, when I started watching their game (on TV), there was at most 2000 people in the stands. That may have been generous. The early game suffers sparse attendance, but this was low even by early game standards.

The BU-BC tilt brought more fans to the game, but one group was conspicuous in their depletion: the BC "Superfan," the gold-T shirt wearing student cadre. There was one section primarily made of them (who were thankfully in a section that the scoreboard blocked from my view), but they were much fewer in number than in years past.

Must have jumped off the hockey bandwagon and onto the basketball one.

So, for most of the game, the loudest factions in the Fleet were the BU fans and the remaining NU fans. They spent most of the first period jawing at each other, with the BC fans only chiming in when they scored.

BC's band is kind of lame, too. I've never heard our fans boo a band. They did on Monday.

Not much else to say about the night, other than this: at one point I had to go to the bathroom, and so walked passed the entry with the female pictogram and into the next open doorway.

The first thing I noticed was that the entire room was lined with stalls. As I was musing the lack of urinals, I realized something else.

"Hmm, these guys all have pretty long hair... uh oh!

I don't think anyone noticed, as I was able to make my retreat without comment or screaming or getting maced.

Now Boston.com has a headline celebrating QEII's "50 years on the throne." Are they just not seeing it, or are they trying to ignore the potty humor?
Fun with Yahoo! headlines: "Queen marks 50 years on UK throne"

One word: fiber.
If there are any Kiwis out there, happy Waitangi Day.

05 February 2002

June 11, 1986: an estimated 1.5 million people crowd Boston to celebrate the 16th NBA title won by the Boston Celtics. A high school junior from Manchester, Massachusetts, attending Boy's State, thinks that he'll have to go to the next one.

Jump forward 16 years.

That teen, now an adult, takes a day off from work to join an estimated 1.25 million to celebrate the first Super Bowl title for the New England Patriots. What the hell was he thinking?

He was thinking that he missed the last one, and will be damned if he has to wait another 16 years for another chance to do this. He'd be 49, for criminy's sake!

The day started with an uncomfortable portent, as Sarah got a flat tire while driving to the T station. Thankfully, she'd just signed us up for AAA (you can chew on the incongruity of a non-driver belonging to AAA), so I called and got roadside assistance, with little added fuss (outside of Sarah having to drive into work on a donut and then go to Sullivan Tire after work to get things fixed).

With that taken care of, it was off to the Woodland T stop. I went in with two of my office-mates: Brian, the RD I share an office with, and Jason, who's in charge of student organizations, and who is, hands down, the most commited Pats fan I know. We got to the T stop, parking lot was full. We scavenged for a space on a side street (thankfully not that long) and we got on the T, which was free (making me wonder if the MBTA wouldn't be in less fiscal trouble if they'd bother to charge during events).

Our original plan was to disembark around the Rattlesnake Bar and Grill, where WEEI had set up, and then mosey down to City Hall Plaza. Some discussion on the T led to a change of plans, and we went right to the plaza. We got there at 10:30 or so. We got a spot about 50 feet from the stage, but given its location in the lowest part of the plaza, and the crowd already there, we couldn't see much of anything.

For all the talk I've seen about the "tight security" for the event, the police presence was hardly overbearing. Most people were smart enough not to bring bags or other items that would require searching. In fact, I kind of wish the police were more of a presence, as I'll discuss in a bit.

We settled in to wait for a couple of hours. The tedium set in quick. A saving grace came in the guise of a guy who climbed up a light pole and nestled in among the two large domes on top. Funny thing, though: the light fixture isn't really secured onto the pole. It just kind of sits there. On more than one occasion during his ascent, we thought he'd take the top off and hurtle to the ground clutching it. But he prevailed, to the cheers of the crowd.

And, proving the fickle fate of publicity, within 15 minutes people started throwing crap at him. A variety of projectiles fashioned from free signs were the least of his problems, as a rain of plastic bottles (empty) and coins started going his way. He stood his ground. The police were asking him to get down. He wasn't budging.

I'm not sure if it was the bottles with stuff still in them, or the football he took to the genitals, but he changed his mind. One problem: he couldn't get down. He made a few feints, kidding about getting down, apparently to annoy the cops, but when he did actually try to climb down he couldn't. The crowd exhorted him to jump, but he couldn't.

Working with the cop and a number of fans, he finally got his leg over the light fixture and got down. I assume he was put in custody, but he may have just gotten a talking to.

The day wore on. Noon passed. The pushing began.

It's a common phenomenon at concerts, as people try to work towards the stage. It played out on the plaza as well, as idiots who showed up late tried to horn in on good spaces. Sadly, there were more of them than there were of early arrivals. I will say I've been in worse pushing situations (at a BU hockey Midnight Madness, of all things), but this is where I'd have liked to see some representatives of law enforcement work to remove the folks at the back who were driving this thing. If you should talk to someone who was at the plaza, and they mention that they pushed their way towards the front, please do me a favor and kick them in the gonads as hard as possible. If it's a woman, improvise.

The planned time for the parade to reach the plaza was between 12:30 and 1. They arrived closer to 1:30. The team then graced the collective throng with roughly 20 minutes of celebration.

20 minutes. After waiting almost THREE HOURS.

And what did I see. Nothing. Seriously. I have to tape the rebroadcast tonight to actually see what the hell went on. OK, I did see some snatches of the celebration, but off the view screen of a guy videotaping it about 8 feet in front of me. And with my eyesight, I probably saw less than I think I did. I will say that Jason saw pretty much all of it, and given his level of fandom it's probably for the best that of the three of us, he got the best view.

Pushing aside, the crowd was pretty well behaved. In looking up the date of the last Celtics celebration, there seemed to be problems with drunk people either throwing bottles (I assume glass, but no material type was named), or breaking down barricades, or throwing firecrackers near police horses. From where I was, I saw nothing along those lines. Could have happened elsewhere, but on my part of the plaza everyone was too close to do anything really out of line.

Oh, and I have a question. Who in their right mind would take small kids to this sort of thing? With crowds that could easily crush adults? Several kids had to get out of the crowd (in one case a father led out something on the order of a half dozen kids, none over 10). On the way home I saw one guy who'd brought an infant (or early toddler, can't tell where that change takes place). I like the idea of a family celebration, but would think that anyone with half a brain would avoid getting into the middle of things.

All said, today's celebration was more than a good time (I did have fun), it was an excellent example of group dynamics in action. At times the crowd was a cross between Lord of the Flies and Hitler's Nuremburg rallies. It's also pretty clear that in large crowds, the lowest common denominator takes control. And given some of the people there, low may not be descriptive enough a word.

All in all I'm glad I went. Because I never have to go again.

Though I'd like to see us have more opportunities, so I can take the day off and watch from home.

04 February 2002

Brian Murphy is almost, almost, off the hook.

Murphy, for those of you not familiar with him, writes the "Weekend Water Cooler" for ESPN.com's Page 2. My beef with him goes beyond what most people's beef is with him, which is that he's a crappy writer, his "Water Cooler" conceit is lame, and that he uses this proto-hip hop white boy talk when he writes, which makes his prose both annoying and culturally insensitive on top of its general lack of quality.

My additional problems with Murphy are:

1. His self-hating of Irish Americans. Every mention he makes of being Irish-American, or of Irish-Americans, involves alcohol, violence, and alcohol-fueled violence. Now I'm not denying that the Irish have a fondness for the drink, or that there isn't an amount of pugilism in the Irish history. It's just that you can say the same thing about a number of cultures. God knows the Germans don't like to drink beer and act war-like.

2. His categorization of the Boston area as some sort of seething underbelly of gang violence. This theme runs through any number of his columns, for reasons I cannot comprehend. I can only assume that in his short tenure covering the NFL, he was traumatized by some of the more "colorful" denizens of Foxboro. He also fixated on an incident of Red Sox fans going batty during the playoffs a few years back. That's one incident in a CENTURY OF BASEBALL!

3. He once said that Boston was just like Cleveland, but with suburbs. I've been to Cleveland. Lowell compares positively by comparison.

4. He talked a lot of smack about the Pats. Not that he was alone, but he seemed to take it to a degree above the norm.

So in his column today, Murphy tries to play all nice, giving us "maximum props" (please see what I said about his use of pointless vernacular) and whatnot. But I doubt his sincerity (and his taste) given the following:

A. He offers up virtual St. Pauli Girls to his "Cooler-dwellers." Making damn sure I'll never become one. And what right-minded person of Irish persuasion isn't going to offer up Guinness, or at least Harp?

B. He continues to mewl on about how the Pats didn't belong in the game, never mind winning it. As we used to chant at Walter Brown: Score-Board!.

C. Tom Brady is Joe Montana without the talent. C'mon, he's a second year player forced into the starting role. Let's cut him some slack before we start tossing around talent-related comments. Unlike last year's Super Bowl winning QB, he's got a job locked up for next year.

D. The claim that the Pats are the least talented team to win the Super Bowl. One of those Giants teams has to qualify here. Or the LA Raiders team that upset the Redskins. Even the Ravens have to get some votes here, as their offense was even less impressive.

E. The "slate gray skies" are actually quite sunny today. As they were yesterday. Cold does not equal a lack of sun.

F. Anyone over the age of 17 who gets all hot and bothered about Britney Spears needs counseling. He might as well get one of those lifelike animatronic sex dolls whose name I can't remember (so sorry, no link).

In a completely unrelated note, I think if my dad were still around, he may not have been after the past six months of football. Notre Dame played like crap and went through an ugly coaching fiasco, and the Pats (his second least favorite football team ever, after BC) win the Super Bowl. I'd have enjoyed needling him about the latter, though I think he'd have heard quite enough from all of his friends.

(Quick example of what I mean: we went to the same Super Bowl party when the Pats were playing the Pack. Amid all the red, white, and blue there was one small table done up in green and gold. One guess who it was there for. My dad sat there the whole game. He was quite gracious in the win, inasmuch as he could be when he was really rooting against a team.)
Team of destiny? Damn straight.

In case you were on Neptune or hiding in a cave outside of Kandahar for the last few weeks, the New England Patriots flipped the proverbial bird at the vast majority of football fans, media, and hangers-on by beating the St. Louis Rams 20-17 in Super Bowl 36 (or XXXVI for the purists). I've been waiting patiently for giant rifts to come forth from the earth, or for the fabric of space-time to be rent from whatever multidimensional frame it rests on.

When did the Pats win this game? Before they even went to toss the coin. When the Pats came out of the tunnel and passed on individual introductions so they could be introduced as a team, that to me sealed the deal. They've focused on the team identity all year, it became a major theme throughout the playoffs, and to not jettison it for some face time before the biggest game of the season illustrated that they were focused and ready to play some football.

Any variety of websites can give you better description or analysis of the game, so I'll leave it to them. I will note at this point that in my pick, the first thing I pointed to was the importance of getting the Rams to turn the ball over. Seventeen of the Pats' 20 points came from turnovers.

Tom Brady was named the game's MVP, a decent choice albeit a little surprising, as the MVP often is someone who puts up big numbers or makes a big play. Brady won for doing pretty much what he's done since taking over- being cool under pressure, throwing short passes accurately, and managing the offense to do just what's needed. Adam Vinatieri and Ty Law (8 tackles [7 solo] and an interception return for a TD) would have been more conventional choices. Part of me thinks the whole team should have gotten co-MVP honors. Everyone gets the Escalade for a week, and the excise taxes are made bearable by being split 53 ways.

There's not much more I can say about the holding call on Willie McGinest that negated Tebucky Jones' fumble return for a TD other than I hope he enjoys Houston.

But perhaps I'm being a little hard on him. Let's not forget that both Ty Law and Lawyer Milloy had interceptions in their hands prior to the fumble play, but couldn't hold on.

Nah, McGinest still screwed up royally. Maybe a third round choice and future considerations?

As for the non-game stuff, the ads were, as a whole, better than last year, but there weren't any that blew the group away. Bud had some good ones (Cedric as Cyrano and the bowing Clydesdales), Blockbuster's dancing rodents were cute, and the Barry Bonds/Hank Aaron ad was pretty funny. Pepsi needs a new angle; the Britney thing is kind of played out.

Also, if any of you switched over to see the Playmate Fear Factor, shame on you. Shame. On. You. You missed what might have been the most energetic Super Bowl halftime show ever, as U2 displayed a fire not seen since their performance at Live Aid. Thank God they've decided to be a rock band again. They also managed to balance energy and solemnity in a way I didn't think possible when they played an extra-long intro to Where the Streets Have No Name while a roll call of all the September 11 victims rolled on a huge screen backdrop.

The Rams showed an odd mix of frustration, anger, and respect in post-game, as Marshall Faulk went on at length about how the only team that could beat the Rams was the Rams, but later (after having some time to reflect) he managed to talk about how the Patriots made more plays than the Rams did. Much of what he said reminded me of BU's Frozen Four run back in, what, 1996, when they knocked off Michigan and Hobey winner Brendan Morrison whined in a post-game press conference that "sometime the better team doesn't win."

Note to Brendan, Marshall, and anyone else who's thinking that way: the best team is the one with the lead when time expires. Today (well, yesterday), that was the New England Patriots.

See you at the parade.

02 February 2002

The time has come, said the Walrus, to put your 10-0 playoff record on the line and pick a winner for the Super Bowl.

Somebody get me a ball gag for the Walrus.

Anyway, with the game being tomorrow, here we go.

New England Patriots v. St. Louis Rams There's not much more one can say about a match-up that's spawned a week's worth of ridiculously detailed coverage. But I'll do my best to pile a few hundred more words on top.

The Rams have a hyperkinetic offense, the NFC's top defense, and a roster that, from top to bottom, is filled with players about whom you can rarely say "he sucks." The Pats have an average offense, an average defense in everything but points allowed (which is the one stat I'd imagine a defense would want to excel), and a roster that reads like part football team, part Federal Witness Protection Program. Part of the reason for that, of course, is that the Pats were expected to stink the NFL up this year, so no national games for them.

The Pats are a two touchdown underdog to the Rams. As has been pointed out only about nine million times since the week started, this Pats team, like the other two that went to the Super Bowl, traveled to New Orleans under big odds to play an NFC juggernaut. Those first two times they lost by the expected margin (or much worse), and the pigskin cognoscienti see history repeating itself.

That's why I'm picking the Patriots to win.

There's no logic to it. I can try to justify the pick with stats and player information (which I'll do in a bit), but the main reason I'm taking them is that the Patriots are the NFL's version of Rasputin. You think they're going to roll over and die, and they just keep on going. Could the Rams be that metaphoric multiple gunshot wounds, poison, and drowning that finally did Rasputin in? Not this week. The Pats will do something to win.

For those seeking rational reasons, I'll give you the following:

1. Over the last 3 seasons, the Rams are 33-1 when they have the better turnover margin. They are 10-11 when the margin is tied or theirs is worse. You can't imagine that the Pats are ignorant of this, and will do everything in their power to swing the game this way. The DBs will play more aggressively, which has the possibility of big plays for the Rams' blazing wideouts, but given the Pats' low turnover rate, I see them getting at least one more than the Rams.

2. The Rams are a bit banged up. They've got a sub starting at one tackle, and All-Universe tackle Orlando Pace hasn't practiced much this week (strained his MCL against the Eagles last week). Az Hakim hurt his ankle in practice, while Issac Bruce had a little groin problem. I think the Pats can exploit the line weakness beter than the receivers (whose injuries are less severe), which may also play into forcing turnovers by making Warner throw when he's not ready.

And let's not forget Kurt Warner's ribs, which are supposedly fine. Should he get his cage rattled and his ribs get re-injured, the field general mantle falls on Jamie Martin. Hmm, perhaps there is someone on the Rams roster who you can say sucks (assuming we have any info to make that judgment about Martin to begin with).

3. The Pats' offensive line is under-appreciated. Matt Light is banged up, but the unit as a whole doesn't get the recognition it should for helping to bring back the running game and protecting whoever is under center. They'll play a role tomorrow.

So there's my "factual" reasons for picking, which, like most of the other games, will probably prove wildly innacurate. But as long as the result is the same, I don't care.

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