FINALLY, JUST IN TIME FOR THE OLYMPICS, 24 COLLEGE AVENUE CONTINUES
Wednesday, August 6, 2008, 05:20 AM
Thanks for your patience in awaiting this chapter -- it has been hectic -- and I hope you had a chance to read my Page 2 screed against closers, the most over-rated position in sports http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/st ... le/080805. I'll have plenty more on ESPN.com (and hopefully this site as wel) in the coming weeks on the Olympics, including my solution to saving the Games.In the meantime, here's the latest chapter (and yes, we're damn near closer to the end).
24 COLLEGE AVENUE: THE ROAD TO CHINA
Chapter 29: “Left On Base’’
Previously at 24 College Avenue: Former housemate Katie Maynard lost her right arm and left leg fighting in the war. She has received experimental carbon-fiber prosthetic limb that helped her become a star pitcher for the Red Devils and make the U.S. Olympic team. But the arm is wearing out as Katie and the U.S. play in the gold medal game. . . . Josh Williams has just graduated from State College with a degree in English, and is leading a tour group to the Olympics. He’s been jailed by Chinese police for scalping tickets and his association with former housemate Jill Thomas. . . . A former State College point guard playing for the Mubai Olympic team, Jill prevented the Olympic torch from being stolen during its relay through Mubai but the Olympics opening ceremonies were disrupted anyway when the torch exploded in a tasteless display of guerilla advertising. . . . Two years after being banned from competition for using steroids, former State College sprinter Nicollette Mayle made the Olympic team but tripped on her untied shoelaces in the final. . . .
Katie wasn’t sure what the umpires would do but with her prosthetic arm ready to literally fall off, backup pitcher Sedona Springs severely weakened by the flu, two outs in the bottom of the seventh, the score tied and Australian pitcher Victoria Melbourne mowing through the U.S. lineup, she knew she had to do something.
So while the first baseman looked on in disbelief, she carefully detached the arm from its holder. And then Katie started running to second base.
The Australians were stunned by Katie’s audacity. What the hell was the American thinking? Melbourne reacted swiftly and fired to the shortstop, who slapped a tag on Katie several steps in front of second base.
“You’re out!’’ the base ump hollered.
“No, I’m not,’’ Katie protested. “I can’t be out if I’m touching a base when I get tagged.’’
“So?’’ the umpire said. “She tagged you five steps from second.’’
“Maybe,’’ Katie replied. “But my arm is still touching first base.’’
The umpire looked back to first base, where sure enough, he saw Katie’s prosthetic arm exactly where she left it. Right on the bag.
And with that, Katie took off toward third base.
# # #
“I demand to speak to my embassy,’’ Jill said when the Chinese official closed the door to the cramped interrogation room.
“Ah, but would that be the American embassy or the Mubai embassy?’’ the official said in precise English without a hint of an accent. “It seems you can’t decide which country you claim as your own.’’
“I’m an American,’’ Jill said. “I’m just playing for the Mubai team. I’m hardly the only athlete competing for another country.’’
The official sat down across the bare wooden table from Jill and slowly pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a drag, smiled with pleasure and looked at Jill with some irritation. “Oh, I’m aware of the practice. Athletes who aren’t good enough to earn a spot on their own nation’ teams sell their services to another, weaker country. I wonder. Do you feel pride or shame?’’
“Oh, give me a break,’’ Jill said. “I just like to play ball, anywhere and anyway I can. And before you get so high and mighty, it’s not like there aren’t Chinese athletes competing for America.’’
“Former Chinese athletes,’’ the official said. He took another drag on the cigarette and blew out the smoke. Jill coughed slightly.
“Why am I being held anyway? If it’s about the broken furniture in our dorm, it was the men’s basketball team.’’
“No, it is not about the furniture,’’ the official replied. “Unfortunately for you, it is about a far more serious matter.’’ He took a final deep drag and put out the cigarette by crushing it against the back of his hand.
“Tell me,’’ he said. “What did you do with the Olympic torch when you disappeared with it briefly during the relay through Dubai? And who helped you insert the explosive device?’’
# # #
The Australian shortstop tagged Katie repeatedly as she ran to third base but the umpires were so confused that they didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, Katie had been tagged several times, apparently out by a mile each time. And yet, on the other hand -- the literal other hand -- her prosthetic right arm was safely on first base.
As Katie rounded third and the Australian coach and players started screaming, the umpires pulled out their rule books and scoured the pages. They searched desperately for a rule that would cover such a situation.
“What the @#&% are you doing just standing around?’’ the Australian coach shouted. “She’s clearly out, dammit! Call her out!’’’
“Just hold on a minute,’’ the home plate umpire said. “We’re looking for the rule on this.’
“But you can’t just let her circle the bases! For God’s sake, we tagged her out seven times already!’’
Actually, it was eight times by then. And the ninth time came just before Katie emphatically leaped onto home plate with both feet as if she was Fred Flintstone abruptly braking his car.
# # #
“So,’’ Josh’s interrogator asked as he paged through a gray folder, “did you and Jill Thomas dream up this protest together?’’
“What are you talking about?’’ Josh said, his voice rising with fear. “I told you, I didn’t have anything to do with the torch exploding during the opening ceremony. If I had, do you think I would have stayed in China any longer than necessary?’’
“Who can say what you would do,’’ the official said. “You Americans are inscrutable. But don’t you find it an amazing coincidence that your old housemate disappeared with the torch for several hours during its relay through Mubai and that both you and her are at the Olympics together?’’
Josh squirmed. “But we aren’t here together. She’s playing for the Mubai basketball team and I’m leading a tour group of the Olympics. What incentive would we have in disrupting the Olympics when the only reason we’re here is to see them or play in them? I’m just a tour guide with a group of sports fans.’’
The thought of his tour group brought a painful twist to his stomach and this one had nothing to do with the Nora virus that had incapacitated him in the jail cell. Two days had passed since the police picked up Josh for scalping tickets and he had no idea what had become of his tour group in the meantime.
“Just a tour guide,’’ the interrogator said. “Then could you please explain your association with this man, who is on a worldwide terrorist watch?’’
The interrogator drew a photo from the folder and tossed it face down on the table. Josh picked up the photo, flipped it over and felt like vomiting when he saw the face.
It was Marcus.
# # #
The American softball team was just as confused as the umpires. Had Katie lost her mind on the basepaths and cost them their only scoring chance of the game or had she just scored the gold medal-wining run? Not knowing what to do, they stood in the dugout until coach Ariel Stevenson gestured for them to rush onto the field.
“I don’t know what just happened or how the umpires are going to rule,’’ Stevenson said, “but I know it won’t hurt if we act as if we just won the game. It’s like when an inside pitch just whizzes past you. Act as if it hit you and the ump may give you first base.’’
Still a little unsure, the team ventured onto the field and greeted Katie at home plate.
“We did it!’’ she shouted. “We won! We won! We won!’’
Katie’s teammates looked at the umpires, who were still huddled in the infield with their rulebooks. Katie slapped high-fives with her remaining arm and as she did, the players got progressively excited. Perhaps Katie was right. Maybe they had just won the gold medal.
“I’m not sure whether we’ve just seen the U.S. win the gold medal or the strangest ‘You Make the Call’ in softball history,’’ the network broadcaster said in the press box “Or maybe we saw both.’’
After greeting all her teammates, Katie dropped to her knees and pointed to the sky with her left hand. “This is for you Sarge,’’ she said, bursting into tears at the thought of her deceased sergeant. “I wouldn’t have had the strength to make it this far without having known you. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have thought of that.’’
“Thought of what?’’ the on-field reporter asked, thrusting a microphone in Katie’s face.
“Leaving my arm on first base,’’ Katie said, tears streaming down her face. “Sarge, that’s Sergeant Kent Woodway, he loved to come up with bizarre sports questions when we were sitting round he base between operations. And one night he asked whether a wide receiver with an artificial leg could leave the leg just inbounds and legally catch a pass behind the bench. I’ll never forget how hard we laughed when I asked whether we were talking college or pro. So when I was on first base, it just hit me that you could apply the same situation to softball.’’
“Fantastic story,’’ the field reporter said. “Tell us more about the sergeant.’’
Katie gladly did so, telling the world about what a fine leader and exceptional man Woodway had been, how he had died serving his country and how she was dedicating her gold medal to him. “I know he’s watching this whole thing,’’ she said with a gulp “Because I can feel him with me.’’
“Well, I hope it’s a gold medal,’’ the reporter said. “Here come the umps now and it looks like they’re ready to make their ruling.’’
# # #
Nicollette leaned her head against Higgins’ chest and cried some more.
“I had it, Higgins,’’ she said. “I had that medal in my grasp. And then I tripped over my @$%& shoelace. All that work, all that running, all that sacrifice, all those years and it all goes to hell because I didn’t tie my goddamn shoelaces!’’
“Hey, it’s OK, baby,’’ Higgins said, stroking the back of Nicollette’s head. “I know how hard this is but it’s all right. You achieved your dream. You competed in the Olympics. Do you know how many kids across the world have that same dream? Do you know how many don’t make it because they lack the talent, the perseverance, the character and the heart to keep at it for so many years? But you made it. You won the moment you walked into the stadium. And you don’t need any medal to prove it.’’
Higgins was laying it on thick, hoping his words would help. For the most part, he believed what he was saying but a small part was also cursing himself for not getting Nicollette a pair of Athena’s new sprinter shoes that didn’t have any laces. He wisely left that thought unspoken.
“I know, I know,’’ Nicollette said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “But it just feels so bad right now. I don’t know how I could hurt any more than I do, or how it could get any worse.’’
Moments later, Nicollette learned just how it could get worse when an Olympic official approached and handed her a cup. “I’m sorry, Ms Mayle,’’ he said. “But you’ve been randomly selected for drug-testing. If you could come with me?’’
Nicollette nodded and then burst into tears again. “Do I really have to pee into this? Can’t you just collect my tears?’’
“It’s all right, Nicollette.’’ Higgins said. “It’s just one more test to go along with the hundreds you’ve taken for Athena over the past year. Just go ahead. Ill be right here waiting for you.’’
As he watched Nicollette walk away Higgins caught a glance of a face in the crowd. He squinted to make sure it was who he feared it was. Sure enough, it was him. But what was he doing here? Higgins bit his lips and hoped that Nicollette didn’t see him.
The last thing she needed right now was to see TrackFan.
Next: TrackFan Revealed
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( 2.9 / 20 )AS CLOSE AS I'LL COME TO RIDING A MOUNTAIN STAGE IN THE TOUR; AND A BELATED FAREWELL TO THE MAN WHO MADE BRAD LIDGE RICH
Thursday, July 31, 2008, 11:36 PM
Here I am, overlooking the Tatoosh Range in Mount Rainier National Park.
If I've been a little remiss with my blogs lately (If?), it's because in addition to my day job, I've been training for the RAMROD, the Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day, a 154-mile bike ride with 10,000 feet in elevation gain. And although it has been a cool summer here in Washington, we hit the weather perfect Thursday, a short window with clear skies and temperatures in the 60s -- ideal biking conditions. Not counting food breaks (no bathroom breaks for me -- my bladder is camel-like), it took me just under nine hours to complete. Which isn’t bad but probably a good three hours longer than a pro cyclist would need. And any time I felt cocky about my pace, I would pass a sixty-something man or woman and re-evaluate my progress.
Anyway, I'm also getting ready for the Olympics, which includes finishing up 24 College Avenue. So look for the concluding chapters beginning in the next couple days.
And I meant to do this earlier, but here's a belated mention of the passing of legendary baseball writer Jerome Holtzman last week. I keep waiting for some closer to acknowledge Jerome by finishing up a game and pointing to the sky and shouting, This one is for you, Jerome!'' Alas, it hasn't happened, though Jerome is the man most responsible for closes making the millions they do. As most people know, Jerome developed the save back in the 1960s -- it became an official stat in 1969 -- though he probably didn't appreciate how the stat would lead to the most overrated role in sports -- the closer. For more on that, check Page 2 next week.
I have several lasting memories of Jerome. One is from the owners meeting held in Minneapolis in 1995 (or was it 1994?). Jerome and I were both covering the meetings, as was some wild-looking dude who claimed to be writing for the "World Wide Web.'' Neither of us had heard of the thing and as he explained it to Jerome and me, we couldn't help but wonder whether the guy was completely whacked or whether we were seeing the end of our jobs in newspapers. As it turned out, I was seeing the end of my newspaper job but also the start of a fabulous new opportunity (I began writing for ESPN.com – then Starwave – a year later).
Jerome also loved to smoke cigars, especially after a ballgame when he was on deadline. He also had a habit of humming loudly as he wrote Together, the two habits could be rather challenging if you had the misfortune of sitting next to him on deadline, which I did during the 1993 World Series. On the one hand, it was very annoying. On the other hand, he was Jerome and you just didn't complain about such things -- it would be like acting with Paul Newman and bitching that kept talking about his salad dressing. Still, it made for a right of passage, sort of like when Bert Blyleven gave me a hot foot.
Anyway, we’ll miss Jerome. And for a great read, track down a copy of his fascinating oral history of early sportswriting, “No Cheering in the Pressbox.’’
That’s it for now. Have a great weekend.
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( 3.1 / 32 )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.
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( 3.1 / 38 )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
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( 2.8 / 58 )Next
