THE BEST SHOOTER IN THE BUSINESS
Monday, July 21, 2008, 12:47 AM
Readers who might have thought I was stretching things a bit last week when I had Nicollette run in the Olympics with her shoelaces untied should look closely at this image, taken by my good friend, Rod Mar of the Seattle Times (image copyright Seattle Times). We were at the U.S. Track and Field Trials together when he looked closely at his shot of Diana Pickler running the 200 in the heptathlon and noticed that yes, her right shoe was untied (you can see the lace flopping at the bottom of the picture). Fortunately for Pickler, she did not trip as Nicollette did.
By the way, Rod is about as good as they get in our business (he finished second in the world last year in sports photography) and if you want to see some of his images and learn about life as a sports shooter, check out his blog at SportsShooter.com http://www.sportsshooter.com/members.html?id=20
Meanwhile, it's been a hectic past couple weeks for me. I got back from Eugene and the Trials one day and left for Copenhagen the next for a story on a Zambian boxer training there. I flew directly from Copenhagen to New York a couple days later and immediately went to Shea Stadium to do a video http://sports.espn.go.com/broadband/vid ... Id=2521705 followed by the all-Star Game (the travel schedule might explain why, as one reader says, I look like I was hit with a shovel in the video).
They were all great events but it wore me out a bit. Normally I get a lot of writing done on planes but this time I mostly slept. So that explains the delay in the next chapter, which will be coming soon. And yes, we are nearing the climax.
Also, I've been busy training for the RAMROD, the annual Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day bike ride. At 143 miles and more than 10,000 feet in elevation gain, it's as close as I’ll get to riding a stage of the Tour de France without having someone test my urine afterward.
Oh, and my wife just started a walking tour in Seattle. It's called Seattle Coffee Crawl, and it's a tour/sampling of downtown coffeehouses, plus a whole latte info on coffee and Seattle. The tours run Thursday through Monday mornings at 10, meeting at the Pike Place Market. Check out the website, seattlebyfoot.com, for more details. It's a great way to spend a couple hours if you’re in Seattle.
[ 1 comment ] ( 45 views ) | permalink |
( 2.8 / 6 )A NEW CHAPTER IN BETWEEN FLIGHTS
Wednesday, July 9, 2008, 08:43 AM
The latest chapter and some lingering thoughts from the U.S. Track and Field Trials. . . Counting the University of Washington student newspaper and various internships, I've covered sports for a quarter century and talked to a lot of athletes in a lot of different sports. But I must say the athletes at the Track and Field Trials were among the most interesting, well-rounded and thoughtful people I've ever come across. Maybe part of it is that don't get a lot of attention or money, so they lead relatively normal lives. Maybe it's because they not only went to college, they went to class. And perhaps it's because they also have traveled a lot for competitions, giving them a broad view of the world. But whatever the reasons, I met compelling athletes every day in every event. Ad if you're not paying attention to them because you feel the sport is dirty, you're really missing out.
Some people say the Trials should make exceptions for injuries, especially to reigning world champs such as Tyson Gay. And that might send a stronger team to the Olympics. But I kind of like the system the way it is. Sure, it's unforgiving, but so are the Olympics. They don't give you a second chance there so why should you depend o when at the Trials?
Anyway, enough of that. Here's the latest chapter . . .
24 COLLEGE AVENUE: THE ROAD TO CHINA
Chapter 28: “Goldfinger’’
Previously at 24 College Avenue: Former State College sprinter Nicollette Mayle has made the Olympics after being banned from competition for two years due to steroid use. . . . Former housemate Katie Maynard lost her right arm and left leg fighting in the war. She has received experimental carbon-fiber prosthetic limbs which helped her become a star pitcher for the Red Devils and make the U.S. Olympic team. . . .. Jill Thomas is a former State College point guard playing for the Mubai Olympic team, along with teammates Camila Brabrickovich and Chardonnay Knights. She also prevented Marcus, the smuggler from the World Cup, from stealing the Olympic torch during its relay through Mubai. Nonetheless, the Olympics opening ceremonies were disrupted by an exploding torch and a tasteless display of guerilla advertising. . . . Josh Williams has just graduated from State College with a degree in English, and is leading a tour group to the Olympics. . . ..
The stadium’s buzz halted as the athletes crouched into position at the start line for the women’s 400 meter run. Nicollette placed her fingers to the track’s surface. This was it, the moment of truth, the race she had been striving toward since the runs she and her father shared when she was a girl. In another moment, the starters gun would go off and the ensuing minute would determine whether her dream of the past 13 years would come true with an Olympic medal.
“Your shoelace is untied.’’
It was Monteego Bay, the Jamaican runner in the next lane. Nicollette couldn’t believe it. Bay was the reigning world champion and gold medal favorite, yet she was reduced to trying to mess with Nicollette’s concentration moments before the starter pistol? And to think it might work? How petty and desperate could Bay be?
“Yeah, right,’’ Nicollette said. Why did it seem that everyone named Bay was out to get her?
She lowered her head in concentration. She took a deep breath and listened for the starters gun. Relax, she told herself. Relax. Just wait for the gun and react.
Bang!
Nicollette exploded from the blocks and threw herself down the track. How many races had she run? How many laps around how many tracks? How many hours running in the rain? In the snow? In the heat and humidity of summer? How many times had she vomited from the buildup of lactic acid of a training session? She didn’t know. And she didn’t care. As a matter of fact, she wasn’t even thinking now, just running.
She entered the final curve in perfect shape, on pace not only for a personal best but a possible American record. The crowd was roaring. She was in position for a medal. Gold, silver, bronze, it didn’t really matter which, all she really wanted was to stand on the podium afterward and have a medal draped around her neck. All she wanted was a souvenir to take home and show off – “Oh, this? Just a little something I picked up when I was in China’’ – and then keep on her mantle for the rest of her life, something that she would look at when she was 80 years old and unable to run, something real and tangible that would provide proof of her athleticism and excellence as a youth.
And as they entered the final stretch, Nicollette was in second place, just a step behind Bay. Another runner was close behind but there was daylight between her and the rest of the field. Nicollette felt strong. She felt fast.
Relax, she said. Just relax and run to the line.
Nicollette was still in second place with 30 meters left. After 13 years of effort, she was just seconds from an Olympic medal.
And then she tripped on her shoelace – Bay, it turns out, had not been messing with her head -- and tumbled to the ground. Nicollette scraped her left knee, her right elbow and her left palm, but she didn’t feel any pain until after she saw the rest of the field race past her and cross the finish line. .
# # #
Katie thought about charging the mound but she worried that the umpires would kick her out of the game. She also doubted whether she could swing an effective punch with the pain radiating from where the pitch had hit her right bicep.
“That bitch hit you on purpose,’’ U.S. softball coach Ariel Stevenson said as she and the trainer helped Katie up.
Katie nodded and glared to the mound where she saw the Australian pitcher, Victoria Melbourne, glare back. “I know. She hasn’t walked a batter the entire Olympics and now she hits me right in the arm.’’
“Are you OK?’’ her coach asked.
“Well, my arm feels like it’s about to fall off, but other than that, I’m OK.’’ Katie started to brush the dirt from her uniform. “Anyway, I’ve had worse.’’
“You are one tough gal,’’ Stevenson said. She gave Katie a quick hug and turned to the umpire. “You just going to let their pitcher throw at our batters like that?’’
The umpire stared blankly, pretending he didn’t speak English.
“Funny how everybody speaks English when they’re drinking beer and trying to hook up at night but can’t understand anything when it’s inconvenient,’’ Stevenson said with disgust. She turned back to Katie. “OK, girl. Rub the arm and take your base. At least we finally have a runner. Now all we have to do is score you.’’
Good luck with that, Katie thought as she trudged slowly to first base. They hadn’t been able to touch Melbourne, the only pitcher who had been able to match Katie’s ability in the Olympics. The gold medal game was tied 0-0 with two out in the bottom of the seventh and the problem for U.S. was Katie hadn’t been exaggerating when she said her arm felt like it was falling off. Her prosthetic limb had been carefully fitted for what remained of her right arm and her thousands of pitches had taken a toll. The fitting was already in danger before the pitch hit her. But now? As Katie stepped on first base, she doubted whether she would be able to throw another pitch.
Katie also doubted that the backup U.S pitcher, Sedona Springs, would be at all effective in relief. Springs not only was out of synch from her lack of use – Stevenson had pitched Katie every inning of the Olympics -- she also was weakened from a bad case of the flu. If the U.S. didn’t score here, it seemed unlikely that they would be able to hold down the Australians for another inning.
But with the gold medal so close, Katie couldn’t bear to let it slip away. She had dedicated herself to winning the gold to honor her former sergeant, Kent Woodway, who had been killed in the insurgent attack that had cost Katie her right arm and left leg. There was no way she was going to let him down. But how to score? Melbourne already had one strike on the next batter, who looked helpless at the plate.
And then Katie had an idea.
# # #
For the first time since arriving in China, Jill finally would have slept through the night without awaking at precisely 4 a.m. when the sound of a chair shattering a nearby window brought her out of her slumber. She sat up and listened. She heard yelling and loud laughter followed by another window breaking and something metallic – was it a keg of beer? – striking the ground and rolling away.
The U.S. basketball team was back from a night partying again.
Jill would have been angry but she had to admit that she had enjoyed herself as well in the Athletes Village. How could she not? All the food you could eat. A tap that flowed all night. Some of the fittest and most attractive athletes in the world. And even a complimentary supply of condoms, a supply that her teammate, Camila Brabrickovich, had put to heavy use.
With so many distractions it was no wonder that the Mubai team had been eliminated from the Olympic so early. The Prince of Mubai’s dream had been to have a team win a medal but he was realistic and realized that just getting a team to the Olympics was enough of an accomplishment. And a major public relations bonanza. Even though Mubai had lost to the Americans by 20 points, the game drew enough attention that tourists had already booked every flight into the country for the next two months. So pleased with the increased tourism was he that the Prince paid his players another $50,000 bonus apiece.
Jill was enjoying the Olympics so much that she had no desire to leave the Village even though Mubai had been eliminated. She was initially disappointed to not have any more games but got over that when she found that the pickup games in the village were every bit as competitive and intense as those in the tournament. She planned to stay until the closing ceremonies, hoping to hook up with that one 110 hurdler she had met at the bar earlier in the night.
She just hoped the closing ceremonies went smoother than the opening ceremonies that had been interrupted by the exploding torch. Jill knew Marcus had been unable to mess with the torch when he attempted to steal it from her during the relay through Mubai but she wondered whether he had grabbed it and pulled some sort of switch later in another country. Why, she wondered, couldn’t people leave politics out of the Olympics?
Jill reached for the ear plugs, placed them into her ears and rolled over in bed. She had just gotten back to sleep when someone pounded loudly on her door.
“Open up, Ms. Thomas,’’ a commanding voice shouted. “We have some questions about just what happened to the Olympic torch when you disappeared with it in Mubai.’’
# # #
Josh hadn’t realized they took scalping laws so seriously in China but he did after spending a night in a holding cell after buying his tour group a set of tickets to see Nicollette run the women’s 400 meter run from an undercover agent. Overcrowded as it was, it wasn’t the cell that was so bad – it was the projectile Nora virus he suffered through after making the mistake of sharing a beer with that one very hot girl at the Swedish House. Josh had always heard that the body is 90 percent water but after two miserable days of vomiting and diarrhea (squat toilets really sucked), he figured he was probably down to 20 percent.
Actually, Josh’s illness was what would have bailed him out of jail. Overzealous Olympic security had arrested so many fans for scalping that there was no room left to hold everyone. With space at a premium a sick American college student was a candidate for early release. Especially one who had connections with Athena.
And Josh would have been released had a last-minute background check not revealed that he had been a housemate with Jill.
Next: Left On Base
[ 7 comments ] ( 332 views ) | permalink |
( 2.5 / 28 )HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!!
Friday, July 4, 2008, 08:46 AM
Whew. It's been a busy week. The US. Olympic Track and Field Trials, the Sonics situation and the start of the Tour de France (go Cadel!). The Soncis settlement isn't much of a deal for the fans. The city gets $45 million now with the outside possibility they get $30 million more in the future (don't hold your breath) while the fans get nothing. I was at the first official post-Sonics event at their former arena the night of the settlement -- a George Michael concert (yes, my wife dragged me to it) -- and it was rather odd seeing the retired Sonics jersey hanging in the rafters, giving new meaning to the term "retired jerseys.'' The Sonics were Seattle's first major league team and their departure is a blow but given how bad the team had been lately, it was almost as if they had been gone for awhile.
Anyway, more on that in my Page 2 piece http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/st ... ple/080703
As for 24 Colllege Avenue -- the next chapter will be up next week and we're nearing a climax.
Have a happy Fourth. Don't blow any fingers off.
[ 5 comments ] ( 238 views ) | permalink |
( 3 / 40 )MEANWHILE, BACK AT STATE COLLEGE
Thursday, June 26, 2008, 01:40 AM
24 COLLEGE AVENUE: THE ROAD TO CHINAChapter 27: “Migraine Headache’’
Previously at 24 College Avenue: State College linebacker Kenan Hill shook off an early season concussion to become the top pick in the draft and receive a $50 million contract. He was hurt and collapsed when he knocked heads during a mini-camp scrimmage. . . . Jenn Robbins has lost her long-standing gig as Bubby the Red Devil mascot after slamming into Golden State University quarterback Simeon Hearst with the Bubby-Mobile during a game. The quarterback has sued both State College and Jenn for $100 million in potential lost earnings as a pro football player. . . .Meanwhile at the Olympics, the opening ceremonies have been disrupted by an exploding torch and a tasteless display of guerilla advertising. . . .
“We’ll have more on the dramatic crackdown in Beijing and what it means for the Olympics right after this . . .”
Kenan turned away from the TV monitor and looked toward his housemate. “So why is it that we’re always stuck here in State College when our friends are having summer adventures overseas?’’
Jenn shrugged. “Just lucky I guess.’’ She sniffled, holding back a tear. “By the way, if I lose my case, could you pay off my share of the $100 million lawsuit?’’
“Sure, cutie. Course, that depends on whether they let me keep my money. And as angry as the team is, I wouldn’t count on that.’’
As crazy – and potentially dangerous – as the situation seemed for their friends at the Olympics, both Jenn and Kenan would gladly switch places with their housemates, past and present. They would gladly take their chance with tear gas and tanks and everything else that went with a government crackdown if they could only avoid the depositions both were scheduled to give that morning. The team that drafted Kenan was suing him to get back its signing bonus while former Golden State quarterback Simeon Hearst was suing the school and Jenn for $100 million over the knee injury she had caused by hitting him with the Bubby Mobile during a game.
Kenan looked down at his watch, a souvenir from his last bowl game at State College. “Well,’’ he said. “Looks like it’s time for me to go.’’ He stood up slowly and started for the elevators of the office building. He turned back toward Jenn. “Good luck, cutie. You’re going to be fine,’’ he lied.
# # #
Sal Ennis, the lead lawyer from the firm of Carmel, Pacific, Grove and Monterey, glanced at his brief, adjusted his tie and stared across the table at Kenan. His firm was billing the team $750 per hour (a discount rate at that) but he was about to earn his money by making this muscle-sculpted man squirm in his seat, wet his pants and beg for a merciful end to this deposition. But Ennis would not grant him that mercy, oh no. He would make the player and his duplicitous agent pay.
“Now then,’’ Ennis said. “Immediately after you banged your head you told the team’s trainer that your doctor had warned you that it would be dangerous for you to continue playing football due to previous injuries. Is that correct?’’
“Yes,’’ Kenan replied, his throat feeling as if it were coated with Velcro.
“This is important so let’s get this straight. When the team offered you a $50 million contract, you already knew that you had a concussion and that your doctor advised you against playing football?’’
“Yes.’’
“And yet you signed the contract anyway, knowing that you would not be able to live up to your part of the bargain? Doesn’t that strike you as slightly fraudulent?’’
Kenan nodded his head slowly.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hill,’ Ennis said. “You have to speak – nodding your head isn’t enough. Did you knowingly sign a $50 million contract to play football even though a doctor warned you that you should not play football?
Kenan looked down at his lap and fumbled with his hands. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Which is just as well because his agent was more than prepared to speak for him.
“Wait a minute. Hold on a damn second,’’ Blaine Reardan said. “I resent the implications you’re drawing about my client. Kenan’s lifelong dream has been to play professional football. He signed the contract with your team with the intention of doing just that, regardless of the risk to his health. And he did play until he was hit in the helmet during practice. You’re saying the concussion is his fault?’’
“We all feel for Mr. Hill but that doesn’t alter the fact that he was obligated to inform the team of any pre-existing medical issues that might prevent him from playing.’’
“Wait, did you say that you ‘feel’ for Mr. Hill? Don’t make me laugh. The team’s feelings toward Kenan only go as far as the money they fear they’ll have to pay him. Don’t pretend you care about his health. The league eats and spits out its players every year. Running backs who dazzled us with their powerful dashes through defenders at age 26 can barely walk up a flight of stairs at age 47. Quarterbacks who threw 60 mile touchdown passes at age 31 can barely grab a pen firmly enough to sign an autograph at age 52. Studies show that pro football players have a shorter life expectancy than crab fisherman. Does the league care about that? This young man signed a contract that would protect him in the case of the very injury he suffered. And if your doctors didn’t care enough for due diligence on his health – if you didn’t care to investigate further whether he might get injured, then that is your fault, not Kenan’s. He is the victim here.
“And may I remind you he suffered the injury WHILE PLAYING ON YOUR FIELD AGAINST YOUR PLAYERS. Rather than accusing him of breach of contract, you should consider yourselves lucky he doesn’t sue you for sending him out onto the field.
“So pay up your money and let this man get on with his life.’’
For the first time in his career, Ennis was speechless.
# # #
What little hope Jenn had allowed herself – and it was very little – evaporated as soon as the door of the meeting room opened and Simeon Hearst entered in a wheelchair.
“What the hell?’’ the State College assistant attorney said. “The injury was almost a year ago. He left the hospital on crutches. What’s he doing in a damn wheelchair?’’
“Relapse,’’ Hearst’s lawyer said.
Hearst rubbed the knee and glared at Jenn. “It hurts. Bad.’’
“Give me a break. If you think these cheap theatrics are going to influence your case, you can think again. This is absolutely ridiculous.’’
The lead attorney for State College held a hand up. “Just calm down. There’s no need to shout. Everything is under control.’’
“That’s right, that’s right,’’ Hearst said. “Everything’s under control. You’re gonna pay me $100 million and then we’ll be just fine.’’
It was Hearst’s lawyer’s turn to calm his client. “That’s all right, Simeon. But let me handle this. I would hate to get you riled up and possibly injure your knee any worse than it is all right.’’
The State College assistant rolled his eyes. Jenn felt like crying again.
“So,’’ Hearst’s attorney said, “are we ready to start?’’
“Before we begin,’’ the State College lead attorney said, “I would like to propose an offer that you might find very interesting.’’
Jenn’s head snapped around so quickly she almost caused herself whiplash. Offer? What offer? Her lawyers hadn’t mentioned any offer to her. What kind of offer were they suggesting?
“Don’t want to hear no offer,’’ Hearst said. “Just want my $100 million.’’
Again, his lawyer motioned for Hearst to be quiet. He turned back to the State College lawyer. “We’re listening. But this better be good.’’
“Oh, it is. It is, I assure you. But perhaps I better let this man explain it.’’
He walked to the door and opened it. And Jenn couldn’t believe who walked in.
State College athletic director Hudson Bay.
Next: Goldfinger
[ 13 comments ] ( 287 views ) | permalink |
( 2.8 / 33 )Next
