Sports Patriotism

Sometimes, these things just write themselves.

I was listening to the Bill Simmons podcast, The B.S. Report, last night while I was walking Allie. One of the guests was a guy named Dave Jacoby, who writes for Simmons' new website Grantland.com and is known as the "Czar of Reality TV."

Anyway, they were talking about the women's World Cup and how it's so difficult for women's sports to get widespread attention. But when you throw the American flag on it, the game changes.

Jacoby said at one point, "I want to know where the U.S. Debate team is performing because I will show up with my face painted."

A little about me: the two most athletic people in my family while I was growing up were by far my mom and my aunt. My aunt played D-1 college basketball and was an all-star at pretty much every sport she ever tried when she was growing up. She later coached women's basketball at Seton Hall for 25 years.

My mom hurt both her knees pretty badly in high school, but I bet she could have played college ball, too, if not for that. To this day, though, she can hit a basket from any place on the floor. Nothing but net. Every time.

Not only that, but I grew up going to women's basketball games at Seton Hall. Many of my earliest memories are of sitting in Walsh Gym with my grandmother watching my aunt coach her teams.

Then in college, when I was first starting at the newspaper, my main beat (which I genuinely enjoyed covering) was women's soccer at N.C. State.

So all of that goes to saying I recognize I'm probably a little more predisposed to women's sports than a lot of guys might be otherwise.

But if you can't get excited about what the U.S. women's national team has been doing at this World Cup -- I mean. I don't know what there is to say to someone like you. Just look at the last two matches: Sunday's ultra-dramatic come-from-behind win over Brazil and today's semifinal win over France.

Sunday's quarterfinal match against Brazil was everything you look for in sports.

The U.S. team went up early, got screwed by some questionable officiating, lost a player to a red card and had to play the final hour of game time down a man. Brazil went up early in extra time on a fluky ridiculous goal by Marta, and things looked incredibly bleak.

Then the magic happened. In the final minute of injury time in the final period of extra time, Megan Rapinoe played an absolutely brilliant cross into the box to find Abby "The Beast" Wambach sprinting in for a perfect header to tie the game.

What can you say about that moment? It was an eruption of emotions. To be so close to elimination only to rip the game back into your favor. Just wow. The game was decided by penalty kicks, and all five U.S. players made their shots. My future wife, Hope Solo, came up with the one key save she needed, and that's the game, folks. Simply amazing.

It got a little misty up in this piece a couple of times.

And then today, the semifinals against France. Let's be honest. If the U.S. had lost today, some of the magic and mystique of Sunday's win would have been diminished.

The perfect analogy I heard across sports radio and TV was the Miracle on Ice. The 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey victory over the U.S.S.R. was not the gold medal game. If Team USA hadn't gone on to win the gold medal after defeating the Soviets, would that first monumental upset still be referred to with the reverence it is today? I don't know.

And the thing about today's game is France seemed to dominate possession most of the game. Aside from the early first goal for the U.S., it was all France. Both teams had some near misses, but until the U.S. scored the two goals at the end to put the game out of reach, France controlled the flow of the game.

But those two goals, man. Games can turn on an instant. And the team that had previously been dominating the entire contest can be thrown back on its heels in the blink of an eye. Especially when Abby Wambach is on the other team.

Wambach put the team up with another header, of course -- this time off a corner kick. She's just a beast, man. And then my other future wife, Alex Morgan, put the game out of reach with the team's third goal with eight minutes to play.

When you consider that most people don't watch the WNBA, and most people probably don't even know there's a women's professional soccer league in the U.S., why do we get so wrapped up in this? It's obvious: sports patriotism.

Dave Jacoby had it right. If it gives us a chance to paint our faces, scream the national anthem and drape ourselves in American flags, we're all in. And why shouldn't we be? Everyone likes a little patriotism now and then.

The way I see it, there are only two real occasions where it's OK to refer to a team as "we." Your college and your country.

I am as die-hard a Yankee fan as you will find. I always like to say if the Yankees ever played N.C. State somehow, I'd probably still root for the Yankees because that's my blood. That's what I grew up doing. I cannot imagine it being any other way.

But I cannot refer to the Yankees as we. I'm not on the team. I don't work for the team (as much as I'd like to). I was, however, a student at N.C. State -- the best university in the entire country -- so I will always refer to N.C. State's sports teams as we. Also, I am a U.S. citizen, so I don't feel strange saying "we" when talking about the national teams.

So when we play Japan in the World Cup final on Sunday, I will be watching. I will be a nervous wreck because I don't know how else to watch sports. And I will be cheering like crazy for my future wives Solo and Morgan, for Abby Wambach and for the rest of the team to kick some ass.

Let's GO.

-BG

WIN

One more Yankee post because I still love everyone and everything:

YANKEES WIN...THEEEEEE YANKEES WIN!!

YES SIR!!

It's been a long nine years. I know it doesn't compare to the suffering of Cubs fans or Indians fans or anything like that, but I'm not a Cubs fan or an Indians fan. Still though, Yankee years are like dog years. Every year feels like it's much longer than a year.

This feels GOOD. After being one out away in 2001, I had "New York, New York" ready to go on my computer. Arizona came back, and I was put on hold. I couldn't play the song, and I blamed myself ever since.

I have literally not listened to that song by choice since then.

That all changed tonight. I got to play it loudly and proudly after the Yanks beat the Phillies in game 6 of the World Series tonight to win title No. 27.

After 2001, and then losing so painfully in 2004, and then missing the playoffs completely last year, wow. This, this just feels really, really good.

GO. YANKS.

Quick Hits

A couple of quick things:

We Met Our Goal!

Bark for Life is Saturday, and our team (Viva La Duck) reached our goal! We set what I thought was a pretty lofty goal of raising $1,000, and through the donations of SO many generous people we surpassed the goal.

Thank you so much to everyone who donated in honor of Erik! Now just come out on Saturday and walk with us! Dogs not necessary! Come walk!

Positive Thinking

I've always been a bit of an optimist (with the exception of sports for the past few years). I generally believe things will work out, and, for the most part, things usually DO work out for me. I've been accused of just having incredibly good luck, and maybe that's true.

But maybe good things happen because I expect them to happen. If you're waiting for bad shit to happen, bad shit will happen. Guaranteed. It's just the way things work.

So I've really tried to focus on thinking positively about as much as I can. Don't get me wrong -- sometimes shit just happens. But for the most part, for the past couple weeks anyway, I've felt better about myself, about life in general. I try not to dwell on negative things because, really, when has that ever helped?

I resolved to think positively when I was laid off back in April, and I had a very relaxing month at home with my dog, living off my severance pay. And then the first job I really applied to came through and has been an unbelievable opportunity and experience.

There really is something to this positive thinking thing. I've specifically been applying it to the Yankees recently (so sue me), and it's been working remarkably. As you may remember, it's been a pretty dark five years in Yankeeland. I spent much of that time just waiting for the next thing to go wrong, and it never missed a beat. Something always went wrong.

This time, I decided that was unproductive. And look where that's got me? I'm going to go home tonight and watch Game 1 of the 2009 World Series!

LET'S GO!

That's all I've got for now.
-BG

A few things

1. We saw a parrot on a leash last night when Anne and I walked around Shelley Lake. He was wearing a small harness too. So, you know, there you go.

2. This time next week, I will probably be in my new home in DC. WTF, mate? I cannot believe how fast this has all happened. Now that I've got a place to live lined up, I'm pretty excited though.

3. I've been reading this fantasy series called A Song of Ice and Fire. The first four books (of seven planned books) have been released, and the fifth is due out this year some time. I thought I might be interested in trying out some fantasy books because, well, why not? I really enjoyed the Harry Potter series, and I heard ASOIAF was one of the best fantasy series out there. I read the first two books of the series and I was REALLY impressed. Each book is close to 1,000 pages though, so I'm taking a break before I crack open the third book. I'm reading The Golden Compass now. Good stuff so far.

4. This commercial is fantastic:



"Your son Rip is on line toot." hahaha

5. The Yankees' bullpen this year is going to give me an ulcer. I mean, really. Let's put some of those limitless resources toward a pitcher or two for the 'pen, yes? Thanks.

6. Don't forget to hit me up in the next week or so. I'm gone to DC after that!

Later!
-BG

How's it been five years already?

Back after the weekend. It was a good weekend. Friday was April 17, which marked the five-year anniversary of my grandmother passing away. I'm just going to warn you right now -- this is going to be a long entry. Makes me feel better to write.

My aunt was visiting for a few days because she was here recruiting a couple girls at the AAU basketball tournament in the area. I think she put it best when she said, "It's crazy because it hasn't seemed like five years, but I feel like I haven't seen her in 20."

You never truly get over the death of someone so close to you. You learn to live with it. You learn not to let it affect your daily life, but you never truly get over it. At least I haven't.

It's been eight and a half years since my grandfather died -- my dad's dad. He was the first person who I'd really consider to be a close family member who died. I never really knew the others in our family like that.

I still crack open a Rolling Rock (his favorite drink) twice a year for him -- on his birthday (April 28) and the day he passed away (Oct. 10). Now I crack open an ice cold can of Coke (Grandma Rosie's favorite drink) on her birthday and the day she passed away.

I've got a framed picture of her in the kitchen here -- it's where she'd want to be, no doubt about it. The first thing she did when you walked into her house was hug you. The second thing she did was offer you something to eat.

There was no turning her down. She was no taller than 4'10" and couldn't have weighed more than 90 lbs, but there was no denying her. She was a force of nature.

To see her was to know her first two passions: her family and food. You see, in an Italian family, food is love. And she cooked up enough love for many, many lifetimes.

To talk to her was to know her other three passions: Seton Hall women's basketball (her daughter Phyllis, my aunt, is the coach), New York Yankees baseball and New York Knicks basketball.

So many of my memories of her are tied with sports, and I am how I am with sports because of her, no doubt. Yelling at the television wasn't just accepted, it was expected. It's what we did. It's what we still do, and it all started with her. The insane passion my family has for sports is not something you can believe until you see it.

Only in my family did a Yankees' game constitute a family reunion. We'd all huddle around the table full of great food like lasagna and antipasto with the game on in the background. We'd yell at the television, we'd yell at each other and we all loved it.

She loved her sports. She was probably the only person in the Tri-state area of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut who would watch a Knicks' game on television in prime time and then stay up until 3 a.m. just to watch the replay to argue with the refs again.

One of my earliest memories is of sitting in Walsh Gym as a toddler watching my aunt coach Seton Hall. Sitting next to my grandma chewing on some Wrigley's Spearmint gum because she knew I loved that the most, yelling at anything I could. I didn't know why. But Grandma was yelling at a guy named "Ref" so I was going to do the same. I don't even know at how many referees we screamed, "Go lose yourself."

Sunday afternoons were often spent on Seton Hall's campus watching the women's basketball games. But we wouldn't have it any other way.

We traveled to quite a few places to watch Aunt Phyllis and her team in the Big East conference tournaments. I remember that Sheraton Hotel in Hartford, Conn., with Grandma Rosie and Grandpa Pete, and how amazed I was at the crowd that was at the University of Connecticut for a women's basketball game.

I remember her coming over to baby-sit, which was really our code for playing cards (Go Fish was our favorite game), drinking lots of Coke and watching the Knicks until what was likely way past my bedtime.

Grandma Rosie helped teach her grandchildren to read with box scores in the Newark-Star Ledger. I knew Don Mattingly's batting average before I could spell most words.

I remember begging to go spend the night at my grandparents' house. That always meant a big bowl of canned, diced peaches, one of my favorite desserts, and lots of baseball on television.

Even right up until the end of her life, she was still all about sports. She went into the hospital at the end of March 2004, which was right around the same time as the start of baseball season. One of the only things she wanted in her hospital room was a radio so she could listen to Yankee games.

It was a whirlwind few weeks there at the end. Needless to say, we flew up to N.J. to see her in the hospital. I'll never forget spending that day in the hospital, seeing her in the critical care unit with the breathing machines that beeped and screamed every time she tried to cough.

But I'll also never forget the look of contentment on her face when she had her children and grandchildren around her bed, squeezing all our hands close to her.

We thought we were saying goodbye to her that day. But she somehow pulled through and lasted another few weeks. She kept improving. On April 16, I remember talking to my parents about how the doctors were talking about getting her out of critical care and into another room. She protested for her slippers and her robe, and we were making plans to modify my grandparents' house so she wouldn't have to climb stairs as much.

The next day she was gone -- a massive heart attack taking her so quickly she never knew it was there.

And that was that. Nothing's been the same since. I still expect her to walk down the stairs when we're at my grandparents' house. I still expect to see her sitting in the kitchen when I open the door for the first time. I probably always will.

It's been five years now, and soon, it'll be five more. That's the way it goes. Nothing to do but remember her and treasure when she appears in my dreams.

Anyway, if you read this far, major props to you. If you didn't, I don't blame you one bit. This entry was more for me than anything else. Next time, I'll update with happier material, don't worry!

Laaaater,
-BG