As seen here, British announcers have a tendency to use run-on sentences in a way so that a regular sentence is as likely as the result of today's semifinal match in the 2009 FIFA Confederations Cup in South Africa (a warmup tournament for the 2010 FIFA World Cup; also in South Africa) where in a gutsy performance by keeper Tim Howard, and on the backs of goals from Villareal benchwarmer Jozy Altidore and Fulham FC role player Clint Dempsey, coupled with incredibly solid games from the US backline of Oguchi Onyewu, Carlos Bocanegra, Wisconsin's own Jay DeMerit, and Chicago's own Jonathan Spector, the United States of America upset Spain; the European Champions and the #1 team in the world, who were owners of a world-record 15-game winning streak, and a tied-world-record 35-game unbeaten streak (having last lost in 2006) by a scoreline of 2-0 to reach their first ever Final in a FIFA competition in a game that has already been dubbed "The Miracle on Turf" and "The Shock Heard Round the World," a reference not only to the 1775 Battle of Lexington, which signaled the beginning of the American Revolutionary War, but also to a 1989 FIFA World Cup Qualifier where the United States faced off against Trinidad and Tobago in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, where Paul Caligiuri scored to lead the US to a 1-0 win, clinching qualification for the 1990 World Cup in Italy, the Yanks' first appearance at soccer's showcase event since 1950.
Next sentence.
EDIT: According to Yanks Abroad, the South African crowd chanted "USA! USA!" in the closing minutes of the game. I can only assume this means that the US and the rest of the world are cool again.
Normally, I'm uninterested or outright annoyed by the superstar minor-league rehab stint media circus angle (Roger Clemens comes to mind), but I guess what's awesome about Manny Ramirez the Isotope is that this time the indignity of superstar-as-sideshow revolves around a guy who I'd doubt is bothered at all by the temporary exile and is playing for a team with a ridiculous name, uniform, and logo--in a small urban island with a funny name to boot--to the grave consternation of those who are somehow unamused by the situation. A freewheeling Dominican stationed in the southwestern plains wearing an advertisement for nuclear power is a match made on the moon that's impossible not to love.
The New York Times tennis blog Straight Sets has a little rundown of how the men's Wimbledon bracket was restructured after Rafael Nadal had to pull out of the tournament last week, vacating the #1 seed.
The explanation makes two things pretty clear:
1) The players are seeded as though the bracket is comprised of four sub-brackets much like the NCAA tournament.
2) There are (at least) four meaningful strata of players in the eyes of the seeding folks: the best four, the next 12, the next 16, and everyone else.
If you translate this to college basketball, that would be like lumping the 2 through 4 seeds together and then lumping the 5 through 8 seeds together. I guess my thought is this: If something similar ever had to be done for the NCAA Tournament (e.g. major violations by one of the teams surface the day before the tournament starts), who would benefit more--the 5 who jumps to the 2 line or the 9 that becomes a 5? My asnwer would be the first, but what do you all think?
And if we have any real tennis fans out there, who benefited / got hosed most by Nadal pulling out?
It's not often I get to use my professional expertise in the environmental sciences to write about sport-related topics, so you can imagine how thrilled I was to hear that the Brewers may be displaced for their upcoming series against the Twins due to severe flooding at Miller Park. As for you Milwaukee-area fans and friends / YCS co-authors who may have flooded basements or--at a minimum--are pissed off at the prospect of the Brewers losing three home games: Sucks to be you. Ha-haw. Etc.
Like any normal person, my first reaction upon reading the story was to check out the USGS website and look up the severity of the storms that caused the flooding. The result: It was a lot of friggin' rain.
The table below shows the Thursday night / Friday mornng rainfall totals and river stage data from the USGS gauge on the Monemonee River in Wauwatosa, about three miles from the stadium. The gauge height in the second column is the water surface elevation relative to a datum of 628.86 above sea level (i.e. a reading of 0.00 = 628.86 above sea level). The rainfall column is the measured rainfall over the given 5-minute interval, and the final three columns are running totals for the time interval given in the column heading.
As the table shows, the rainfall was extremely intense over a two-hour period that resulted in 4.40 inches of rain--just over half of that falling in the first half-hour. In all, from the time the rain began at 11:15 Thursday night through 11:15 Friday night, 5.40 inches of rain fell on 'Tosa.
Without spending the time to look up the rainfall frequency distributions for the Milwaukee area, I'm going to assume that they're only marginally different than those for the northeast Illinois region, which are shown on the following chart pulled from the Illinois State Water Survey, Bulletin 70. The colored lines plot the 30-minute, 1-hour, 2-hour, and 24-hour peak rainfall totals from Thursday / Friday storm that's left the Brewers homeless for the time being.
[For those unfamiliar with the term, a "recurrence interval" is the theoretical period of time that will ellapse between one random event and an event of equal or greater magnitude. For a full explanation, go here.]
By any measure, this was indeed a very rare downpour, and--contrary to popular belief--all that water doesn't just disappear when it hits the ground. If you go back to our table, you see that the Menomonee River crested at 15.35 feet above datum, which, according to NOAA, is expected to occur once every 15 years (roughly) and has been exceeded only three times since 1973. That, my friends, is what we in the biz call a "flood."
Now, none of this answers the question posed in the title. Was Miller Park properly designed to handle severe weather events? Unfortunately, I resold my Standard Design of Stormwater Drainage Systems for 50,000-Seat Baseball Stadiums, 4th Edition textbook for booze money once I got my D in the college course, but I'll guess that a project as costly and conspicuous as Miller Park would have been designed for a 100-year storm and 100-year flood.
If I'm right (probably not the case), it doesn't necessarily signal failure on the part of Miller Park's architects because, after all, it does not sound as though the stadium underwent any permanent damage. Also, my experience has taught me that stormwater management is a highly empirical and highly imperfect art that's very difficult to get "right." (Or at least that's the line I use at work.)
Pretty cool stuff, huh? Well, I hope you've learned something valuable. (Disclosure: You have not.)
One constant in this past week's FIFA Confederations Cup, a warm-up tournament for the World Cup pitting the regional champions against one another, other than the suckitude of the United States, and Coach Bradley's asinine decision to stick with worthless players like Damarcus Beasley is the drone of the Vuvuzela. It has been the subject of much commentary in the soccer mediasphere this week, so to prevent YCS from simply being "Yellow Chair Vinnie" and to put these self-righteous, quasi-racist pricks in their place, I am returning to action.
A vuvuzela is a cheap plastic horn about 3 feet in length, that when blown, creates a sound like an elephant or a swarm of bees. It is a popular part of soccer culture in South Africa.
It's humming has become a source of ire for commentators, players, coaches, and fans during the Confederations Cup, and has led to urgings to ban the instrument for next year's World Cup Finals. And they're all full of shit.
Announcers say that the horns drown out their commentary. First, I would like to direct these announcers to a magnificent invention created in the 19th century. It is called a microphone, and can do magical things for voice amplification. That being said, no. I don't want announcers to know about microphones. ESPN's announcing team during the last World Cup took more away from the broadcast than any horn could ever aspire to. See also: Dave O'Brien. Given the choice between a cheap plastic horn, and ESPN's soccer announcers (with the exception of Derek Rae, and on occasion, Andy Gray), I will take the plastic horn any day.
Fans say that they contribute nothing to atmosphere, and have no place in football. I love when fans talk about what has a place in football culture, because when people say "proper football/soccer" what they usually mean is "the way things are done in some Western European countries." This person is the scourge of the American soccer fan, because he usually retains no connection to the local game, choosing instead to support his favorite EPL Big 4 team on Setanta every week, jerking off to an English flag while downing a pint of Beamish.
The fact is, soccer, just like the way it is played, is supported in different styles all over the world. Even in the MLS, styles range from Chicago's Polish/Italian/Mexican influence
To Columbus Crew's German-style support
to Houston Dynamo's El Battalon, which is heavily populated and influenced by support common in Latin America.
If all you watch is one or two leagues, and a handful of teams, then naturally your worldview of what qualifies as "support" is going to be a tad myopic. While I'm not ready to play the race card just yet, it's certainly a thought. FIFA President SeppBlatter, who usually has his head so far up his own ass he can see the inside of his own neck, is for once, dead on the money here. "It's a local sound and I don't know how possible it is to stop it.I always said when we go to South Africa, it is Africa. It is not Western Europe.It's noisy, it's energy, rhythm, dance, drums. This is Africa. We have to adapt a little."
Spain's Xabi Alonso is also in favor of banning the vuvuzela. "They make it very difficult for the players to communicate with each other and concentrate. They are a distraction and do nothing for the atmosphere." This is the biggest bullshit argument I've heard yet, considering its source for two reasons. First, Xabi Alonso plays his club football for Liverpool, whose home ground; Anfield, is regularly one of the loudest in Europe. Yet no problems communicating and concentrating there.
Pregame at Anfield
During the Game (especially starting at the 0:40 mark)
So the argument that the horns are loud and distracting seems a tad misplaced coming from Alonso. Likewise, Alonso plays his club football on a team whose first team features Brazilian, Spanish, English, Israeli, Italian, Danish, Ukrainian, Swiss, French, Dutch, Scottish, Argentinian, Slovak, Moroccan, and Hungarian players. I have to imagine there's more than a few language barriers on that team. Yet, Alonso apparently has no problem communicating at Anfield. You figure with those barriers removed in South Africa (since presumably every player on the Spanish team speaks Spanish, and the players could at least lip-read simple commands), this should be a non issue.
Also gotta wonder about Alonso. Alonso is from Spain, whose soccer games have been plagued by racist chanting at African players (including tossing bananas on to the field at some stadiums). I wonder if that "contributes to atmosphere."
As for the coaches who don't like the sound of the vuvuzela, I think they largely overestimate the importance of their own job. 95% of a soccer manager's job is in preparing the team; once they're out on the pitch, the manager's influence is largely limited to substitutions and half-time adjustments. So unless the vuvuzela is blowing in their ear while they are selecting the team or during training sessions, their impact on a coach's performance would appear to be minimal at best.
So next year, expect the vuvuzelas to be back. Now if only we could do something about the United States team's chronic sucking...
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You hear that guys? It's time to send Sally upstairs to go hem your golf shirt, tell Junior to pick up his rocking horse and train set, get out the poker chips, call up your buddies, and... margarita night? Tequila shots and blacked out by 8:30?
Whatever, it's ridiculous. Last I checked, most guys don't live in the Patty Duke Show, so I'm not sure where all these intrusive sewing machines are coming from. Also, unless your neighbor has an industrial-sized dumpster for his trash, I'm not sure how scrounging through his trash could turn up an entire couch. And when I think tequila, I think of a poker game that doesn't end up so friendly.
More importantly, this male-fantasy-for-the-male-stereotype nonsense is beyond tired. Besides being an impractical, wasteful celebration of disgusting consumerist glut (which has gone way out of style, if you haven't noticed), this whole "man cave" / "man wall" phenomenon is yet more proliferation of the unthinking, competition-crazed male caricature that should have been put to bed with the cancellation of Home Improvement. Yet, this proves that Tim Taylor lives, along with the all the implicit xenophobia and misogyny built into this bad joke. They even call it a cave for god's sake.
But who am I to argue with the reality that sports fans are an uncouth lot of illiterates who hate to think?
Forget what I promotional-idea-for-white.html">wrote last night--this is a promotion. Then again, it seems unnecessarily targeted and might be cause for trouble. It could very well turn into another Disco Demolition Night, except with fans furiously deleting Nickleback songs from their iPhones, setting off a massive orgy of cyberterrorism. Or worse yet, pro-Nickelback vigilantes led by the members of the band might show up and torch the place. No--on second thought, this is a terrible promotional idea. Isn't it enough that the two teams playing or the Ports and the Nuts?
If you haven't heard yet, Dontrelle Willis is back on the DL, again for an anxiety disorder. And again, the circumstances are a little fishy. As such, I assume the next day or two will see plenty of people calling shenanigans and just as many, like me, calling time out on the people calling shenanigans.
It begrudges me to comment on these kinds of stories because it smacks of know-it-allism and forces me to admit I'm no better than all the other overimaginative potificators speculating on a semi-fictional account of the thoughts in another man's brain. Decoding the mental processes of a faraway figure is a fool's game, and it requires a creative license that's just as inappropriate and annoying as finger wagging. Unfortunately, I'm inclined to think I'm skilled in this exercise, so here I go.
We shouldn't doubt for a second that the Tigers may want to abuse the diagnosis of a common, vaguely-defined, and easily-suggestible mental disorder to tell a struggling performer to go play in the sandbox while the adults work in the yard. It's especially tempting to assume so after reading this:
"I've talked to everybody and I don't feel like I have any nervousness out there," Willis said. "I've got so many moving parts that if one's out of whack from time to time it happens.
"This is not the first time I've had control problems, but I've been able to overcome it, so I'm not worried about it."
Of course, self-deception is typically easier than outward deception, and a few bullshit sentences to satiate a hard-questionin' reporter is easier yet. That said, we also get this "detail":
Willis has been his usual gregarious self during a three-game interleague series against the Cardinals, constantly joking around with teammates. He even punctuated many of his comments about going on the DL with laughter.
To that I say: a) Don't be fooled by Willis; b) don't be fooled by the Tigers; and c) don't be fooled by either of them.
The only real point I have is this: "gregarious" has little to do with anything, and laughter can signal delusion just as well as it can signal happiness and stability, so that's not much help either. The charismatic extravert is often the best actor, and those within his sphere are often least able to see through his gregarious ways--assuming there's something to see down to in the first place--simply because that gregarious version of the person is the version they want to see, the version that makes them feel good about themselves, and therefore the only version they care to believe exists.
Also, I think people who've never dealt with legitimate anxiety issues or any other mental disorder tend to downplay or simply don't comprehend the inseparability of mental state and physical performance, so we'll probably hear--as we have before--those who'll maintain Willis's issues (assuming they're real) have nothing to do with his physical mechanics. This is probably false, though I think people who would react this way are dwindling in number.
Anyway, this is all just food for thought. I have no idea what D-Train's thinking, and neither do you. It's actually not relevant, nor is it fair to use this story as a backdrop and excuse for my psycho-rambling. Good thing we only have, like, five readers.
Angry, irreverant, bitter and just plain bewildering. Combating the oversaturation of sports coverage in today's media by further piling onto it. It makes sense. Just trust us.
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