nebroadwe: (Bear)
Sniggled from Bryan Konietzko's Tumblr, the Olympic performance of the Brazilian synchronized waterbending swimming team:
Okay, Nickelodeon, can we please have an ATLA soundtrack album NOW?
nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
... or, perhaps, epic high bar routine is epic:
Unsurprisingly, he took gold for the first ever individual gymnastics medal for the Netherlands. What I can't find, unfortunately, is a video link to Fabian Hamb├╝chen's immediately preceding silver medal performance, which was almost as epic. Wow.
nebroadwe: (Bear)
I draaaagged myself to the gym this morning, where Wimbledon coverage was running on one of the sports channels. For their top-of-the-hour introduction, they brought up the Wimbledon logo over a montage of "We're in London!" signifiers for US audiences: Big Ben, Tower Bridge, the Eye, those ubiquitous beefeaters ... and Stonehenge. My first thought was to blush for my countrymen and their geographic myopia; my second was that [personal profile] cornerofmadness's friends must have had it moved for her as a treat ...
nebroadwe: Write write write edit edit edit edit edit & post. (Writer)
I'll be closing out the Christmas holidays this evening with a hey-nonny-nonny and a whoo-hoo-hoo, because over the past week I've written three, count 'em, THREE complete stories, two ficlets and a short, GO ME. I entered the first ficlet in this past week's FMA Fic Contest (prompt: sugar) and even won against a crowded field ([personal profile] cornerofmadness wuz robbed, sez I). Wow. Talk about positive reinforcement. The second ficlet is marinating for next week's contest (prompt: "Just one more thing ..."). The short story started life as a drabble in Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan universe. It was supposed to be a character moment for Alek, but the minute he walked onstage I saw Count Volger lurking in the wings with Dr. Barlow, and then Deryn sauntered in, cool as you please, with Bovril waddling in her wake ... well, the story didn't stay a drabble very long, though it's still (hopefully) a character moment for Alek. Now it gets to marinate for a day or so while I figure out a) a better ending and b) where to post notice of its existence. Heh.

Also, in the background, Michigan State beat Georgia in the Outback Bowl in triple overtime. They nearly went to quadruple overtime. NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL A GAME, FOLKS.
nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
So it's been a horrible fortnight, really, given events in Wisconsin, Japan, Libya, and even my hometown, but I finally saw something in the news that cheered me up:
Arizona State Senior Anthony Robles, Born With One Leg, Crowns Undefeated Season With NCAA Wrestling Title
You rock, sir. I applaud you.
nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
One reason I like sports is that the news it generates usually does not raise my blood pressure. I'm more inclined to sigh over the futility of my hometown teams than shout. I gravitate to sports channels when I'm tired, ill or fed up with the world for some soothing coverage of the human species at play. So why, o my fellow humans, do you choose the morning I had to get up at 4:30 to work out at the gym, to poison 130-year-old trees on the campus of a rival school and refuse to compete against another athlete because of her gender? Now I'm all depressed and angry ...

I hope the tree poisoner is visited by the ghosts of J.R.R. Tolkien, Theodore Roosevelt and Bear Bryant nightly until he recognizes the error of his ways! Argh!
nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
The gentleman on the bike next to mine is reading John D. Sinclair's translation of Dante's Purgatorio. Maybe this is the gym for me after all.

On an unrelated note, I have another story brewing at last, for [livejournal.com profile] fma_fic_contest's prompt "seamless." Go, muse, go!
nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
2a. Though no one else seems to be wearing a "So Many Books, So Little Time" T-shirt to the gym, some people do bring a book to read, making me feel like a poser. (But I have to concentrate! Exercise is hard!)

2b. That said, I can be distracted by a 10+ minute game between Rafael Nadal and Bernard Tomic at the Australian Open. Whoa. (I might need a new T-shirt, but Nadal certainly does.)
nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
I appear to be the only person who comes to the gym wearing a T-shirt that reads: "So many books ... so little time."
nebroadwe: (Bear)
I'm rooting for Noble's Promise in today's Kentucky Derby. Why? He's part-owned by a mailman. And you know what they say: "Neither rain nor snow nor sleet ... "

ETA: All right, so the sun came out. Next year I'll know to put my money on Calvin Borel.
nebroadwe: (Bear)
Olympic Figure Skating, Day 4:

Watched Evan Lysacek's program through my fingers. V. good!

Evgeni Plushenko salutes crowd with Emperor's New Sword. Poser. Dick Button's axels less tilted in the air than his.

Still not evolved.
*

Read more... )

Next up: ice dancing, which has gotten far more interesting since I started watching it back in the Pleistocene. Evolution FTW!
nebroadwe: (Bear)
Watching sports occasionally reminds me that I am not as highly evolved a human being as I'd like to think I am. Current example: I could barely stand to be in the same room as the television while Evgeni Plushenko performed his short program last night. I'd thought figure skating was finally rid of him after Torino, but no -- he had to come back to annoy me again. Tom Brown's dislike of Doctor Fell is as nothing to my antipathy for Plushenko. I despise his style. I loathe his cockiness. I'd cheerfully trip him with his own imaginary sword (oopsie!). A competitive final is always more interesting than a coronation, but man, do I hope Lysacek and/or Takahashi leaves Mr. Crossover-Crossover-Crossover-JUMP-Crossover-Crossover-Crossover-JUMP! in the dust.

Other notes: Stephane Lambiel still spins like a top and I love him for it. Great to see Takahashi Daisuke peaking now after a season full of wobbles; hope he can sustain the momentum in his long. Jeremy Abbot, sadly, seems to have peaked too soon -- his current short program is one of my all-time favorites and I was looking forward to seeing him perform it well again. The representatives of the next wave -- Amodio, Kozuka, Brezina -- give me hope for the future of the sport. And if somebody hadn't already been planning to cast Evan Lysacek as Rothbart in the next Swan Lake on Ice, they should be now. :-)

So I'm ready for Thursday (and particularly for Oda Nobunari's Chaplin medley, another favorite among this year's programs) and the downfall of Plushenko medal round. Then maybe Plushenko will retire for good and I can feel evolved again.
nebroadwe: (Bear)
I've always enjoyed watching sports and can get myself interested in almost any of them, given the opportunity.* Since this weekend features significant contests in two of my oldest sports fandoms, professional football and figure skating, I'm a happy couch potato. I watched the men's and pairs' short programs from the National Championships in Spokane first -- I'd never thought of The Beatles' "A Day in the Life" as particularly skateable, but Jeremy Abbott pulls it off. Then I switched over to Arizona v. New Orleans in a win-or-go-home playoff. My sympathies are with the plucky Cardinals after their last-minute win last week, but their coach may have turned back into a pumpkin since then, alas. Later I'll switch back to the rebroadcast of the pairs' final (sort of a non-event despite deciding the Olympic team -- I never thought I'd see the day when the U.S. had more world-class ice dancers than pairs skaters, but here we are) and round out the day with the other football playoff, Baltimore v. Indianapolis. I have relatives in Baltimore who still have not forgiven the Colts for packing themselves up in the middle of the night and sneaking off to the Midwest. They froth at the memory and would like nothing better than to see the Ravens grind the Indianapolis Irsays [sic] into the turf. Me, I keep my head down.

I just wish more of my local friends shared my enjoyment of these sports. I can usually persuade a few people to sit in the same room with me for the Superbowl, but it's been a long time since I could drum up a group to watch Skate America like the one who critiqued the performances so heatedly that a passing non-fan felt moved to remark, "It's like a bunch of guys watching football!" Which we took as a compliment. Ah, those were the days.

*Except the motor sports. Not my bag. This despite having grown up near a speedway and having a friend (briefly) in grade school whose dad raced there. Said speedway is now the parking lot of a major chain retailer. Sic transit gloria mundi.
nebroadwe: (Bear)
I was at the Salt Lake Olympic Winter Games back in 2002 when Alexei Yagudin won his gold medal, but I had already left by the time they had the exhibitions, so I missed the big reveal of his secret identity:

Read more... )
nebroadwe: (Bear)
All right: I'm now one for three in ball games attended, my team having beaten the everlasting aspirations out of their opponent on Saturday afternoon. Read more... )

On Sunday, a friend took me to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince as a belated birthday present. (Thanks, Sue!) My impressions were ... mixed. Read more... )
nebroadwe: (Bear)
On Wednesday afternoon I attended another baseball game at the local major league park. The home team lost again. I can't really complain, because prior to that they'd been on an enormous winning streak and I knew it would snap at some point ... but did it have to snap while I was there? Sigh. There isn't much to pick between watching your team lose in the rain and watching your team lose in the bright sunshine. Between the two, however, I prefer the rain. It seems more fitting, somehow -- and you don't have to endure painful half-inning after painful half-inning while simmering in your own sweat, breathing ever more shallowly as the entire sold-out crowd grows whiffier and whiffier.

Read more... )
nebroadwe: (Bear)
I took in a professional baseball game last night. It was Faith and Family Night, which meant that we were favored with a creditable version of the American national anthem and a rousing rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" by gospel choirs. (Aside: if I ran the universe, the American national anthem would not be permitted to be sung by anything smaller than a quartet, and the seventh-inning stretch would always be solemnized by "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" -- not by "God Bless America" or anything else. Potential minions, take note.) Then the visiting team opened up a three-run lead in the first and it was all downhill from there.

And it rained.

Not apocalyptic rain, with hail and thunder, but a gentle, persistent, chilly drizzle. There's something very "Casey At the Bat" about sitting in the cheap seats swathed in a plastic poncho and watching your team lose in that kind of rain. People started leaving in the fifth, which I couldn't quite fathom: even the cheap seats are cheap only by comparison to the leather-chrome-and-champagne luxury boxes, and my team has demonstrated a penchant for improbable late-inning comebacks over the season thus far. They managed to load the bases in the ninth, but the opposing manager wisely switched pitchers and that was the end of that. Ah, well. We'll get 'em next time.
nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
C'mon, admit it: among the many people watching the Preakness on television today, I can't have been the only one cheering filly Rachel Alexandra on down the stretch by yelling, "Go, go, go! Yes! Show those rich, white, jowly fossils NBC interviewed during the pregame what a GIRL can do!"

I know, I know. It's pointless to project human gender politics into the animal kingdom. Still, let me offer to all those dismissive gentlemen a hearty, twenty-first-century feminist "PHHHHHTTTHHHTTTBBBT!"
nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
My team made the playoffs this year. Go team! I put myself into the postseason ticket lottery, as I always do, and came up empty the first two rounds (last year I qualified for LCS tickets, but my team crashed and burned in their divisional series). Still, I consoled myself, the World Series lottery still remains and there's at least an outside chance the team might make it that far (if they can patch the leaks in their starting rotation, anyway). But then this morning I received word that I had won the right to a ticket or three to Game 5 of the divisional series, should it be held. So I bought one ticket, down at 100 level on the third base side, just past the end of the infield. Sweet. The only problem is that my team will have to lose two games in order for me to take advantage of this windfall, and I can't root for that ... can I? (No. Let's take 'em in three and move on. I'll hold out for a seat at the World Series.)

In other news, my spam is getting more surreal by the day. I've seen this movie before ... )
nebroadwe: (Bear)
You know you've been watching too many Olympic events when ...

... during the equestrian team semifinals, you hear the announcer say, "Here's Gerco Schroder of the Netherlands, coming onto the course with Monaco," and think, "Wow, he's going to have a lot of trouble getting that entire country over the water jump."

Yeah, I know -- but huzzah for showing the horsies on broadcast! I suppose it helps that Team USA is in contention for a gold. What a lovely course, too -- one of the prettiest I've ever seen, as well as one of the most difficult (to judge by the number of good people and mounts coming to grief on it, particularly at that there water jump. Schroder and Monaco made it, by the way.). Kudos to the designers! I hope I get to see the team final on Monday -- looks like it's going to be a barn-burner. Um, so to speak.

And now I get to see fencing, too. What a great day at the Olympic games!

ETA: Keith Smart is my newest hero. Never give up, never, never, never, never ...

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nebroadwe: From "The Magdalen Reading" by Rogier van der Weyden.  (Default)
The Magdalen Reading

August 2014

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