NTSF 114: Giving Thanks and Looking Back on a Great Year in Sports…

The frantic scrambling of fingers over the tiny keys on a phone — a pocket computer, really, truth be told, as the thing hadn’t made an actual phone call in days — searching for scores, news, updates. On the bus, walking to work, in free moments and moments he should be working, the phone is working instead, dialing up its voodoo out of the vortex.

The laptop sits packed in its case, inside the backpack, yearning for some wi-fi to feed it… feed the internet, crank the vortex into overdrive, varoom some video through the ocular cavity to bounce around inside the brainpan. It’s been weeks since it tasted anything live, feeling spurned yet frisky whenever it finds itself unsheathed in the decorous halls of Knight Library. And still it does little these days but type, type, type… clack clack clack.

The phone gets little better treatment, and we won’t even start on the last time the television actually saw more than a rehashed video piped through its cathode-ray tubes. Technology, that greatest of accomplishments in widening the horizons of our sports spectator potential… all damned when we sit there with scratchy cell reception in the storm fumbling around a mediocre feed, nothing on which to FEED…

… feed …

. . . feed . . .

. . feed . .

.

Life can be hell sometimes when you’re forced to come to grips with the futility of paying for something dysfunctional and realizing you’ve been living on a nickel’s worth of potential reward for a dollar’s outlay. So the house is truly wireless, nothing but the persistent tap tap tap BlackBerry droning on into the night finding what it may.

You know, each of the past several years have seen me put out one of those “What am I thankful for?” columns that really just feel like fluff. Sure, it’s great to be thankful… but perhaps it is more important to give thanks for the changes which have come up in our lives, the ones that have been beneficial as well as the ones that have provided some of the more painful growth lessons we must all confront in life. After all, it is all those sentiments which are distilled down into two- or three-hour segments in the athletic field, that synthesize in their purest form all these emotions that tangle messily throughout our daily lives.

So what has changed in my life over the past year — besides the fact that the internet just won’t work at my house, something for which I’m really not thankful? Well, first of all, this column is coming to you on a new site than it did last year at this time. The learning experiences gained in steadfastly going forward with Informative Sports were instructive, just as making the July transfer over to Sports Nickel have brought new chances for growth as a writer, a publisher and an editor. I’m thankful that I’ve had the opportunity to learn new systems, to play around in new formats, and that I’ve been able to pool my resources and aptitudes with another group of like-minded individuals while still keeping the essence of what we were trying to build at ISC.

The switch has seen this column itself evolve, as I first went for the sweeping coverage in a weekly capsule, to thinking about more nuanced daily coverage anthologized in the weekly forum, to recognizing that neither is the right approach for my situation. What is past is prologue, they say, and I’m looking to get to the meat of a story. So I guess you could also say I’m thankful for the infinite patience of a small yet dedicated core group of readers, that have kept coming back week after week, in all this column’s incarnations — from the humble blog beginnings at FanNation to the growth into more long-form productions at Informative Sports and onward into its still-evolving offerings here at Sports Nickel. Thanks for bearing with me…

… and thanks for bearing with me as I’ve embarked on and survived one of the greatest challenges I’ve ever undertaken. I know I’ve been shoddy in my output here at Sports Nickel the past month, both in this column and elsewhere on the site by normal standards. But it wasn’t for nil.

I’m thankful that my wife is always pushing me to expand my boundaries as a writer, as a cook and as a human being. A few months ago she was surfing around the internet, looking for new writing opportunities, when she discovered a self-imposed challenge called National Novel Writing Month. To put a long story short, the goal was to write a 50,000-word rough draft of a fictional story down within the 30 days of November. Now I’m a guy who likes to keep his coverage un-fictionalized, in the realm of reality… but at the same time it got me thinking that at least seeing if I could evolve a fiction out of base knowledge and letting the story take me where it will could be good training.

For what? For writing in the style of journalism that has always captivated me most, that New Journalism of heightened literary significance as perpetuated in the covers of magazines in that high-water mark of the 1960s and 1970s and still surviving amongst some champions of the faith to this day.

All those who have come before and those who inspire in the present give me hope that one day this writing can be more than merely a conglomeration of characters across a screen, that sooner or later the words will find their way onto the page, onto the pressed pulp of paperhood that seals something with greater permanence than the ether of the cerebral vortex ever can. So I’m thankful that I’ve managed to extrapolate to myself where I really want to focus with my writing, putting into play the possibility for two manuscripts ready for publication considerations soon after the new year.

I succeeded with the novel attempt… in a way. I reached my 50,000 (actually 50,431 was the final count) words on the evening of November 29, a day to spare in the marathon pace. But this thing is definitely rough. That might be the most fascinating part of the endeavor — the grand sense of accomplishment in agreeing to the goal and having neutral third-party verification to prove you pulled it off… coupled with the knowledge that there is still so much work to be done to see the real finish line.

So the work continues on, but I’m sure thankful I have a decent enough rough sketch of what I hope could flesh out into a viable fiction. After all the reticence toward fiction and insistence on real-life reportage and — watch me end up realizing my dream of manuscript publication first with a story I made up myself.

I guess it’s sweet fate. The birth of modern literary journalism was in a way a (wildly successful) attempt to extend the novelistic tools into journalistic endeavors. Maybe I just need to start honing that side of my brain more, I’ve discovered this past month…

As winter draws closer in the Willamette Valley and Eugene melts off the blanket of snow befallen on its soil earlier than any year I’ve spent over the past half-decade in the area, I appreciate the (current) roof over my head. Perhaps no other facet of my life has changed more than my residence in the past ten years, and while 2006 saw some semblance of anchoring as we returned to Oregon it nevertheless was anything but the end of nomadic wanderings — they have merely stayed confined to bouncing between locales around the metropolitan area, from our arrival staying with my wife’s various family members the first few months to the first off-campus duplex, to that first apartment where we resided at the time we got married to the half-a-house on the hill where we first saw real snow in these parts, down the hill for a short stint in Springfield before arriving where I currently sit in the Friendly Area neighborhood of town. In some perverse way I’m thankful that I’ve become so adept at moving on the fly, and that we’ve managed to stay in one area even if we can’t pin down a specific locale to set up shop.

Here’s another weird one: I’m thankful that I can get this far into a weekly non-traditional sports column without mentioning sports once. What events meant the most to me this past sports year? Let’s just rattle some of ‘em off… we’re never going to capture them all, even if I belt out 50,000 words at you on the subject. Maybe you’ll have to wait for the (next?) book to get ‘em all. But let’s take a stab at some of the things that were best about this year in sports:

• January: I don’t quite know why, but the Australian Open might just be my favorite of the four Grand Slam events. It admittedly comes too quickly on the heels of the previous season, but there’s always bound to be more shockers in Melbourne than elsewhere. And when journeymen and women make it deep into tournaments it can be the difference between breaking even and actually making money that year, as I detailed in one daily dispatch. Maybe it is just the fact I’ve had television or an outlet to watch each of the past three years, or that it airs live in the evenings here and into the night when I otherwise have nothing to watch. Maybe it is the fact that my wife loves watching tennis with me, and that there’s nothing quite like televised tennis from Down Under to stave off the rainy-day Eugene blues. But once again Australia snagged my attention and kick-started my goal of producing a book about this year in international sport…
• February: Nodar Kumaritashvili’s death in the days before the Vancouver Winter Olympics forced us all to recognize that sports, and especially the Olympics — while a pursuit for citius, altius, fortius — are not meant to be a blind grab for speed and glory and the cash that sometimes (though not always) comes with it, devoid of any sense of safety or even tradition. It showed us that track construction at the Whistler Sliding Centre and future tracks to come should be about more than merely being faster and longer and more dangerous than their predecessors. I’m thankful that the Vancouver Olympic Organizing Committee took the unprecedented measure of shortening the track to reduce speeds back to swift-yet-still-sane levels and that they awakened to the futility of unpadded reinforcements — belatedly, but before a second Kumaritashvili could perish. Thankfully his death, while a pall over the Games, was not in vain… and that they were able to recuperate from the tragedy to present a golden face of sporting excellence for the worldwide audience…
• March: All hail Lance Mackey, who put the accenting touch on his own inspirational cancer survivor story with a record-breaking fourth consecutive Iditarod championship over Jeff King. The second-generation Iditarod champ was out of the lead for most of the 2010 edition, but turned up the pace and passed King just 400 miles from the finish line in Nome while the fellow former winner rested his dogs. I’m thankful for guys like Mackey, guys who overcome the risk of death itself to not merely survive but thrive in their chosen field of competition. Hopefully we’ll get to see another amazing battle in 2011 between these two men and others like 2009 runner-up Sebastian Schnuelle — and maybe, if the winds blow right and luck prevails, Mackey can even extend his streak of dominance to an even half-decade…
• April: April showers bring… cobblestones. I’m definitely thankful for cobblestones — especially bicycle racing conducted over the cobbled stretches of Flanders and northern France. And this year, one man proved better than all others in a duel of former champs. Tom Boonen, himself a former winner of both the Tour of Flanders and Paris-Roubaix, had this to say: “If you give him a few meters, you won’t see him again.” When a guy known for his own explosive bursts away from the pack to win alone says that it really means something. Thank you, Switzerland, for producing a cyclist of such rare talent as Fabian Cancellara. And likewise, thanks to both Cancellara and Boonen for the epic showdowns, and may more await in our future…
• May: As spring rains burned off here in Eugene, this fan of the nerazzurri was treated to the ultimate reward for any fan of European club soccer… Inter Milan advanced past Barcelona in the semis, and Bayern Munich in the final, to capture their first UEFA Champions League crown in over forty years. Soon thereafter the team’s architect, Jose Mourinho, would bolt ship to try to resurrect Spanish giants Real Madrid, but for one glorious night (which coincided with the first ever Champions League final broadcast live on network television in the United States) Inter were champions. Diego Milito provided the ammunition that ended the continental drought, and the “Italian” team — without a single actual Italian in its starting 11 — lived up to its Internazionale designation in capturing the domestic league/domestic cup/Champions League treble for the first time in the country’s history…
• June: Summer rolled around and soccer stayed on the brain as Africa finally received its long-awaited opportunity to host the FIFA World Cup. Sure, at times the officiating left something to be desired. Plus, the tournament lost some luster before it even started with the rash of injuries that sidelined stars like Ghana’s Michael Essein. And American fans were thwarted once again from seeing their team go deep in the tournament in their best opportunity since the very first go-around in 1930. But the vuvuzelas, love ‘em or hate ‘em, and the passion of the world’s massed fans in South Africa gave this particular edition a unique flair that won’t soon be forgotten. And thankfully it was the high-energy Spanish passing spectacle, rather than Dutch thuggery, that prevailed in the final…
• July: July always means Tour de France time for me, having covered the grand tour daily during its 23-day journey ’round Gaul for each of the past three years. While we’re left wondering after the fact whether Alberto Clenbute… er, Contador doped his way to a third maillot jaune, the race in real time nevertheless was as captivating as ever. Contador and Andy Schleck waged an epic duel in the Alps and Pyrenees, their Astana and Saxo Bank teams everything a leader could wish. And the fact that Contador’s win is even in question? This might be the best fact of all, that in no sport as much as cycling is even a champion held to the highest possible scrutiny…
• August: Finally, we saw Tyson Gay — the American sprinter plagued with injuries the past few years — racing at his physical peak, and just in time to wipe a little of that aura of invincibility away from Usain Bolt. Competing in the finals of the Bislett Games in Stockholm as part of the IAAF Diamond League series, Bolt and Gay distanced themselves from the rest of the field. But back problems kept Bolt from getting enough power into his signature finishing kick, and the window was open for Gay to deal the Jamaican his first loss at 100m since before the Beijing Olympics. It is results like this that make me thankful races aren’t run on paper — because I have a feeling nobody really wanted to give Gay a chance in this one. Let’s hope both are healthy and in top form for next year’s IAAF World Championships, along with Bolt’s countryman Asafa Powell. When all three are toeing the line it is must-see spectacle…
• September: No story was more inspirational at this year’s U.S. Open than the run to the men’s doubles final by Aisam-Ul-Haq Qureshi and Rohan Bopanna, the “Indo-Pak Express”. From two cultures that found themselves divided in the 1947 partition of the Subcontinent as Britain relinquished their grip on the empire, they have joined forces to espouse an anti-war, pro-cooperation platform built on the teamwork sports can proliferate. The Bryan brothers might ultimately have prevailed for the championship, but in defeat Qureshi and Bopanna were considerate, eloquent and everything a parent hopes their child might grow up to become. I’m thankful we were witness to such an impressive spectacle by a burgeoning partnership, and may the Indo-Pak Express flourish on into the future…
• October: As the leaves fall and autumn takes its chill plunge into its place in the calendar, football in all its guises resounds around the globe. From Europe’s top teams and leagues to the pro and collegiate game in the United States, the variations on the sport all enjoy this time of year as the moment when seasons of every ilk kick into high gear. I’ve been a local witness to a possible national-title run all the way to the crystal pigskin. My teams are all back in the top divisions of their respective Euro domestic leagues. Life doesn’t get much better than a year where all your favorite teams are a success…
• November: One of the tightest battles at the top of the Formula 1 standings in recent memory raged on until the finale in Abu Dhabi. Just like last season, there was a clear-cut “fastest” car in the field. But unlike last year, when Ross Brawn’s car was ably driven by Jenson Button to the title, Red Bull had a hard time keeping Adrian Newey’s beast at the front of the pack. But in the end, after teammate Mark Webber led the classification much of the season, Fernando Alonso made a late surge to give Ferrari a shot at swooping the title after it had long looked like a Red Bull duel with McLaren. But Abu Dhabi proved kind not to Alonso or Webber but Sebastian Vettel, who surpassed Lewis Hamilton two years ago to become the youngest driver ever to win a Formula 1 season championship. Thankfully a new generation of guys are coming out of the woodwork to dominate open-wheel racing…

… and then there’s December. What will the next month yield? We’ve got but thirty days until 2011 beats down the door, and this is the last column I’ll be penning before my own personal odometer ticks over from 27 to 28 this weekend. Changes abound in my world as they are bound to do in all our lives. So I hope you had plenty to be happy about this past weekend, and may you find more of the very best this world has to offer in the year to come…