Posts Tagged ‘spectator sports’
Frozen Observations
Getting out of bed on mornings when the temperature outside is below zero and the first order of business involves walking a dog and tending to horses, takes an extra level of oomph that gets harder and harder to muster. Even Asher chose to stay in bed for an extra few minutes this morning after Cyndie opened the door of his crate.
But greet the day we must, and soon we found ourselves plodding along the North Loop trail on the snowless frozen tundra. I don’t know what depth the frost has reached at this point, but not very far beneath our land, the water table is still liquid. Hydrostatic pressure is pushing it up above ground where it freezes in slippery growing mounds on our trail.
Asher had no interest in lingering after the horses were taken care of because the pads of his feet were getting almost as cold as Cyndie’s fingers. The little black pigeon that I have taken to calling “Plucky,” must have been suffering from cold feet, too. After pecking away at the cracked grains beneath where Swings was eating and having spillage from Swings’ mouth shower its feathers, the fearless bird chose to perch on Light’s back.
To a bird’s feet, that must feel like standing on an electric blanket.
Our agenda for the day involves taking Asher up to the lake with us for a single overnight visit in order to meet a contractor tomorrow for a quote on carpentry work, both indoors and out. It’s tricky figuring out what to bring for such a short getaway that will still involve walking a dog in extremely cold temperatures.
We have horse duties covered for tonight and tomorrow morning, but that’s it, so we need to return by dinnertime tomorrow.
Tonight will be a big night for NFL fans as my Minnesota Vikings will be doing battle in Detroit against the Lions in a single-game competition that will determine Division Champion and playoff seeding. It is hard for my tiny mind to perceive that some people will be oblivious to the significance. It’s as if there might be other issues of greater importance in this world.
Not to the 8-year-old boy in me!
.
.
Interesting Conditions
Here’s something I find interesting: The NFL team I have been a fan of for my entire life, the Minnesota Vikings, has exceeded most expectations to reach 14 wins in 16 games in 2024. We fans always wish for success like this, but I never expected such impressive results to happen this year.
Even more interesting is the fact that the Detroit Lions, who have been the better team for the last two years, are in the same Division as Minnesota, and the schedule has us facing each other next week in the last game of the regular season that will determine the Division champion and number one seed in the playoffs.
Very interesting.
Meanwhile, our weather continues to hover around the freezing point, causing the persistent fog to freeze on surfaces overnight and melt to merely wet during the day.
The way it froze on the driveway was really interesting. When I stepped out just an hour later, most of that had melted. Most being the keyword because there were still slippery spots every so often, invisibly hiding in plain sight.
I’m ever so grateful that there is nowhere we need to be driving in these conditions.
Walking to the barn in the mornings is hard enough.
.
.
Time Out
Even though my home team didn’t play football yesterday, I watched games all afternoon and evening. The Vikings will play tonight. Might as well watch that one, too. There was a time when I wanted to be done with the NFL. I guess I’ve gotten over that.
I watch differently now, though. Outcomes are interesting but more meaningless for me. The fanaticism of some ticket buyers is almost scary by the looks featured in glimpses on the network broadcasts. I’ll wait until my team makes it to the Super Bowl to become fanatical.
If that were to actually come about somehow, win or lose, the results would still be meaningless.
Some NFL players have taken to wearing a puffy soft covering over their hard helmets. I hope it solves something for them enough to justify how silly they appear. It got me thinking: why don’t running backs wear soft outer padding over their torso? Entire uniforms could eventually start looking like the Michelin Man.
As a fan of spectator sports, I’ve developed a love-hate relationship with the NFL, but this year, I’ve been watching more games than ever. I’m not really sure why. Maybe it’s an attempt to reconnect with my youth. I grew up watching the games. I used to study the faces of the team roster in the gameday magazine programs and tear out the full-page portrait of featured players when I was a kid.
One of the things that annoys me about the present version of the NFL is the confusing variety of uniform variations for each team. Garish colors and hard-to-identify helmets disrupt continuity and mess with team identity in highlight reels. When it comes to team uniforms, I’m an old fuddy-duddy. One dark version and one light works just fine. Home and away colors. Leave it at that.
What I do appreciate about the games is that they provide a time-out from real life. It’s an escape for a few hours from things that matter. Like watching a movie or reading a good book, except it is happening live while I watch, and tens of thousands of other people are sharing the same experience simultaneously.
And sometimes, it can be a train wreck, yet I can’t get myself to look away. The NFL corporation has me under their spell despite my better judgment. And it’s because they hooked me when I was young.
.
.
Felt Hot
Yesterday was day two in the 80s and combined with the drought we are experiencing, it felt rather unsatisfying around here. Admittedly, being unsatisfied with warmth in October isn’t something we usually express, but it’s because the warmth was actually annoyingly hot.
At least we enjoyed the benefit of having our windows open overnight, so the hoots of our forest owls were easy to hear.
If I was still tied to a day-job, I would have called in yesterday and claimed a mental health day. Instead, I just showed up for chores a few minutes late. Maybe it’s because it was a Monday, even though Mondays are no longer the dreaded burden like they were for 40-some years of my gainful employment.
Of course, for Sunday sports fans, football game losses and Championship WNBA game 5 losses can easily cast a pall of gloom that carries over into Mondays. That is something that doesn’t affect dogs, horses, or spouses who can take or leave team athletic competitions with zero residual impact.
“Honey, our unbeaten streak is over!”
“Oh? Can you unload the dishwasher for me?”
Asher just wanted to go outside and run after his favorite yard ball with a rope through the middle of it. That is a game in which he requires a person to act like they want possession of the ball more than he does.
Yesterday, I would have preferred to unload a dishwasher.
Eventually, despite the heat, I managed to drag myself down by the road to do battle in some of our thickest undergrowth to eradicate more buckthorn shoots that had sprouted from stumps I had cut the year before. I coerced Cyndie into coming along to help point out locations because when I get in the middle of things, I tend to overlook opportunities that are often right behind me or practically underfoot.
After lunch, I made my way down along the fence line on the far side of the hay field with the pole chainsaw trimmer to clear out low-hanging box elder tree branches that were beginning to droop too close to the top wire. My desire to have those branches cut down has increased every day that I’ve walked Asher along that pathway for the last few months.
It feels so great to have them finally dispatched that I find I no longer care about what happened in Sunday’s sports competitions.
Although, carrying the heavy pole saw all the way back from the far side of the field in the high heat kept me from feeling too much in the way of jubilance.
The first thought I had when I eventually returned to the house was that it was too hot to be wearing socks. I’m hoping the local meteorologist’s claim that yesterday would be the last time we reach 80 this year proves accurate.
I am very ready for some weather that deserves warm socks.
.
.
Olympic Entertainment
Some people are faster than others. Some jump higher, shoot straighter, paddle harder, pedal stronger, and swim like fish. Some work better as a team, some as individuals. They are all impressive to watch. Their muscle is inspirational to see. I think the functional strength of gymnasts is the pinnacle of achievement.
There are so many more competitors than the few who earn medals and they’ve all trained to such a level worlds above and beyond the average person. It’s been suggested that the Olympics should include one average person in each individual event to provide a reference for the achievements of the elite performers. That would be something to see.
Too often, the difference between competitors who get medals and those who don’t is tenths or hundredths of seconds or points. That’s gotta be a mental challenge for those who’ve trained so hard and long yet missed out on a podium spot.
The collection of competitors from all over the world amp up the entertainment value of watching the Games in every way.
With these Games of 2024 in Paris, we’ve got the added treat of Snoop Dogg showing up on the NBC broadcasts as a super cheerleader at almost every event. Last night we caught a glimpse of him in the crowd during highlights of the Men’s Street skateboard competition.
These are no longer my father’s Olympics, that’s for sure.
.
.
Making Sense
One of the reasons I like writing poetry is because it allows for free-association thinking and lyrical syllable play without the constraints of forming logical grammatical sentences. When moved by global events, I aspire to communicate my visionary perspectives in as positive a light as possible. To achieve such a lofty goal, it helps if I feel I can actually make sense of what is going on.
It seems like it is getting harder and harder for me to comprehend global current events. As a result, you get a lot more posts about our weather, the horses, our dog, Asher, or how the grass mowing is coming along. The craziness in the greater reaches beyond my little world that does make sense to me lately is sports-related, as might be obvious from recent posts.
Results for my spectating yesterday didn’t go my way, except for one:
- Wimbledon: I was happy seeing Carlos Alcaraz claim his second straight title.
- Tour de France, Stage 15: I’m a big fan of Tadej Pogacar but I wanted Jonas Vingegaard to gain some time on him.
- Euro 2024: I was pulling for England.
- WNBA Lynx vs Fever: I wanted the Lynx to win.
- Copa America: I wanted the match to start on time.
I’ll be down to just one week left of Le Tour with the tournaments now completed.
At least there will still be weather to write about.
Not that I’m able to make any sense of the weather these days. At least it can be pretty to look at.
.
.
Sports Galore
It’s an embarrassment of riches in the spectator sports department this morning. Thankfully, it gives me a break from the wave of dramatic news of yesterday’s assassination attempt at a rally for the Republican candidate for President in the 2024 US election.
It’s hard to do justice to both the Men’s final in Wimbledon and the end of the mountain Stage 15 in the Tour de France while trying to complete today’s blog post. 🙄
This afternoon brings England vs Spain in the final Euro 2024 Championship match and the evening offers Argentina vs Columbia for the title of Copa America. Between those, I might be able to catch a glimpse of Caitlin Clark playing for the WNBA Fever against the MN Lynx.
I will justify not being outside mowing because last night’s rollicking deluge of a thunderstorm has saturated the grounds once again. There is standing water in the low spots.
Couch potato is me for a day.
.
.
Record Win!
It may be Independence Day in the US today but my attention is on the greatest bike race in the world, the Tour de France. Yesterday, there was a historic sprint finish on Stage 5.
Mark Cavendish beat some amazing sprinters to the line for his record-breaking 35th Stage victory in the Tour de France. At 39 years of age and after overcoming illness, injuries, and depression, Mark came back and achieved what most thought was never going to happen. I had long hoped for him to reach this milestone but I figured it would never come to be. It is so cool that he has proved me wrong.
What a spectacular accomplishment. Bravo and congratulations Mark! I will forever remember how thrilling it was to witness this fabulous sprint win.
.
.
Self Soothing
There are days when Cyndie and I put our energy toward helping our dog, Asher, learn to calm down on his own. Yesterday felt like a day I needed to practice a good dose of my own self-soothing. Between the US Supreme Court rulings and news of current early-season hurricanes, I put myself through unnecessary trauma by watching the US Men’s National Soccer Team’s futility in their crucial elimination loss to Uruguay in the COPA America tournament.
These are not the kind of warm and fuzzy inspirations that one prefers to be basking in while on a vacation at the lake.
If I wasn’t trying to eat healthy as a general rule, I’d binge on a too-large serving of our favorite ice cream from West’s Dairy in town to assuage my angst.
Has there been any encouraging news related to the SCOTUS in the recent past? From ethics disasters to blatantly political rulings that defy legal logic, it’s as if they are in a contest to see how much faith in the institution from average citizens they can destroy.
I’m not sure how much more news from the nine Supreme Court Justices I can take and still maintain my happy lookout on life.
I’d like to meditate on the beauty of a golden sunset but then I start thinking about Hurricane Beryl being the earliest category 5 Atlantic hurricane on record and my happy place gets blown away.
Breathe, John. You don’t need any ice cream.
The wind screaming across our lake yesterday didn’t help much in providing a calm and soothing atmosphere. Still, Cyndie and I got out for a walk around the properties in our association which soothed my nerves some after having watched Portugal eke out a victory over Slovenia on penalties after finishing extra time tied 0-0 in Euro 2024.
My exercises in self-soothing will get a fresh workout this morning after I watch the 4th Stage of the Tour de France which is already climbing mountains in the Alps. Oh boy.
Oooooommmmm.
For the record, I much prefer the stress of spectator sports over that of politics or climate catastrophes.
.
.
Vacation Mode
A few days into our stay at the lake we are beginning to get the hang of not stepping out first thing every morning to tend to our animals. Thanks to our friends, Pam and John, we lounge around like a couple of retirees at the lake while they are taking care of life on the ranch. Yesterday, I responded to an innocent query about tricks for cleaning up under the overhang at mealtimes. It’s almost embarrassing, the amount of detail I can provide to describe my technique as an Equine Fecal Relocation Engineer.
Alas, I get to focus my attention on all the excitement happening in Europe. Between the Tour de France cycling and the Euro 2024 football/soccer tourney, I can almost fill an entire day entranced by spectator sports. Luckily, I stepped out for a breath of fresh air after England’s overtime victory and got invited to join in another pickleball game. That gave me an excuse to miss the Spain v. Georgia match and got me off the couch before the day disappeared into night.
I only had enough shoe left to complete two games before needing to retire. The surface of our old tennis court is pretty rough and my shoes might be as old as the court. These Adidas have served me well for decades, so they don’t owe me any money. After many, many games of futsal on the basketball floor at the health club, I retired these shoes to the lake place for any pickup soccer games or activity on the tennis court.
Yesterday, they suffered a fatal flaw that even my duct tape patch technique that covered the toe won’t fix.
Game over.
Time to switch to the next oldest pair stashed up here for just this situation. You can never have enough old shoes stowed away as backups at the lake. It’s where I keep shoes that are past their “best if used by” date but not yet tattered enough to trash.
The left shoe shown in the photo above has now officially earned its credentials for being tossed in the trash. The right shoe may still qualify to be kept in storage for emergencies in case the next failure happens on the other foot.
It feels like we are on vacation when this is the only level of concern demanding my attention in a day.
.
.
Relative Something 