Spectator Games

That magical two weeks that comes but twice a decade has returned. Thirty-six thousand hours of Olympic sports will be televised on seemingly endless NBC channels, and I simply cannot get enough. Beyond the basketball team, Phelps, and maybe a tennis or volleyball player here or there, these no-name human specimens have been training for 4+ years to have a minute of fame, be quickly forgotten, and have a piece of metal on their mantle as the rest of their life pales in comparison to that jubilant 60 seconds. Best case. Worst case they're depressed for life.

Is this honestly not the greatest landslide spectator victory in history? I'm starting to feel like it's the Colosseum with Russell Crow's predecessors fighting for a chance to not be eaten by a lion. Last night the US female gymnasts painfully filled the space between Phelps world records. They had an insurmountable lead over third place Romania, but the media somehow believed they could compete with China's fourth-grade students. As Alicia fell off the beam then sat on the floor, it was clear the US was playing for silver. Oh well. That was honestly my reaction. I think I went and got a glass of water, and that was it. This girl has spent countless hours in the gym repeating the same routine a thousand times for one chance to be remembered for a week. She would have to break her ankle, stick a landing, and win the gold to become Keri Strug (anybody care where she is now?), but the downside is every person outside the small world of family and friends says "oh well," and moves on with their same life that developed normally while she was in the gym. Wow. That is why I can't get enough. The irrationality, impossibility, motivation, determination, lack of celebrity, and pain. All for country, sport, peace, accomplishment, pride, fame, or, from my perspective,...entertainment.

Thank you to all the athletes. I genuinely hope you either win gold or find a good shrink.

Prettywoman

Have I ever recommended Tristan Prettyman? She's phenomenal, and only second to Missy Higgins in my female singer/songwriter category. She's playing the House of Bules on Monday, August 11th if you're in Chicago.

Madly on YouTube

Changing of the Guard

An epic battle. The greatest Wimbledon final ever. The most electric tennis match in years. These are just a sample of the recent praise I have heard about the Nadal-Federer final yesterday. If you missed it, definitely catch the replay on ESPN Classic tonight. Yes, that's what we call an instant classic.

The script was enticing even before a ball was hit. Federer would break the record of five straight Wimbledon titles with a victory. Nadal would match Bjorn Borg's French/Wimbledon combo, which hasn't been replicated in 26 years. The debatable best ever padding his resume, or the young phenom winning his favorite tournament for the first time. It was the only sporting event I can remember being passionately attached without care for the outcome.

Well, these boys certainly didn't disappoint. The first set was all Nadal, but Federer was positioned to draw even in the second before dropping two consecutive service games, and reversing a 4-2 lead to lose 6-4. I wondered if we were headed for a French repeat with Nadal winning in straight sets, but after that nobody would flinch. Two sets without a break, and Federer had to draw even against championship points in two tie breaks. The final set would not finish until a second rain delay pushed the final games into darkness, six hours after the first point. The longest match in Wimbledon history would only draw longer as the fifth set cannot be decided with a tie-breaker. Eventually, Nadal's conditioning seemed to prevail taking the set 9-7. Absolutely amazing!

The crowd held on every shot, and erupted with every winner. Simultaneously chanting Rafa and Roger blended into unbiased encouragement. When the final "out" was called, Rafael fell to his back, and every spectator rose to their feet. An endless standing ovation was celebration or respect, but nobody seemed upset. Roger's father was clapping with a smile as Rafael jumped past him to hug his parents, and Roger's girlfriend gave him a congratulatory pat as he walked past.

As expected, the speeches were humble and respectful of the opponent. These two are clearly class acts and phenomenal for the game. The only questions outstanding for me are: Is this the greatest rivalry in the history of tennis? Is Federer the best to ever play? Will Nadal be able to consistently perform at this level to overtake Federer and secure his place as the greatest ever? Or, will Roger fight back from consecutive major losses to reestablish his dominance? The debate is exciting, and the US Open should be phenomenal.

For All in Perspective, this is Clarke Michalak reporting. God bless, and good night.

Numero Uno

Despite a 1.7% chance, the Bulls have the number one pick in the 2008 NBA Draft. I've waited for this moment since our 1999 selection of Elton Brand. It should be a phenomenal celebration. However, here's my suggestion: trade the pick. Beasley is lazy, and we don't need Rose to be our fourth guard. These players could be extremely valuable to another team, and we should trade it away for a proven superstar. Mabye package up some of the 8 decent players we have to get a big-time forward or center. Garnett need another move? Is their room for Yao and Fukudome in the same city? Dwight Howard, Stoudemire, or Dirk frustrated with their situations? If we must keep the pick, my choice would be hometown Rose, but then still trade Heinrich, Hughes, Sefolosha and Gooden for one of the big dawgs above. I definitely like this lineup: Rose, Gordon, Deng, Thomas, and Nowitzki.

Ain't No Thing

Created by a member of our fraternity in our fraternity. Presenting Slangston Hughes of 211 Entertainment.

A Tale of Two Cities

After living in Chicago for over three months now since a move from NYC, I feel capable of making a trivial comparison or two. There are honestly 50 differences between the two cities, and many are more substantial than these, but let's get down to the basics: food and hair.

For some reason, NY does pizza and Chicago sticks to hot dogs. Why?- I have no clue. There is a pizza slice counter on every corner in Manhattan, and the same frequency of Vienna Beef shacks in Chicago, yet you'd be hard pressed to find the same in the other city. Some people will try to justify this with the dirty water dog vendors in NYC, Chicago's preference for deep dish, or even the absurd argument my friends made that "New York has the best water, so our pizza and bagels are superior," but I'm still baffled. Don't you think American tastes are similar enough to have a couple pizza slice joints in Chicago or a Vienna Beef hot dog in New York? Manhattan is the most diverse place in the world- bar none. I think they could find a few hot dog enthusiasts whom prefer a quality hot dog to Gray's Papaya.

Second question: Why aren't there any barbers in Chicago? There are so many in New York that you can get a good haircut for $10 within a block or two of your Murphy-bed apartment. In Chicago, you have to seek them out, make appointments, and pay $30. I have gotten five haricuts from four different places since returning, and still am not satisified. I think there is a lucrative business opportunity for any NY barber. Move to Chicago, double your rate, and pay lower rent and living expenses. You'll still be undercutting the competition, and I'll be your first regular.

Roller Coaster of Emotion

If being a Cubs fan teaches you anything, it's temperance. The club posted a division-leading 15-6 record on April 23 after winning six straight, but then dropped 8 of 11 and their first place position as quicky as it was achieved. So, who cares? Isn't this typical Cubs baseball. Aren't you supposed to say "well, I only hope they win the game I attend at Wrigley," and be satisifed if they can even do that? The Red Sox fans are the bitter ones that get all caught up on record. Not us. Not here. Loveable losers, not frustrating losers.

For some reason, I'm having a hard time accepting that this year. Maybe it was the pre-season Sports Illustrated prediction of a World Series victory, or that last week they published the same forecast stating Fukudome was our savior. Maybe it's because I genuinely believe we have one of the best lineups in baseball and a strong rotation. Maybe it's the 100th year since our last ring (if they even had gold in 1908). Maybe it's the painful nature of most of our losses. Maybe it's the idea that current ownership is selling the team, so they should be willing to pillage our entire farm system for one run at glory.

Heck, it's probably all of those, but it isn't fun. Yes, I am able to laugh when Soriano whiffs two fly balls in a single Cardinals game or Fontenot tries to run, but not when Kerry Wood blows saves. I promise to return to indiference in 2009, but not this year. Not when it's our turn.