Here's the link to this article on the website, but the editors mangled it. The original version is posted below: http://media.www.dailycampus.com/media/storage/paper340/news/2007/10/30/Commentary/Finally.I.Can.Graduate.In.Peace-3065167.shtml
This column is self-serving and essentially egotistical. I’m not writing about an important political issue or a valid campus concern. I’m writing because I got to rush the field Saturday at the football game and now my college experience is complete. Until now, the approaching completion of my 120 credits hung like a court date circled on the calendar. I felt I had not “done it all.” Now I am content, and can move onto whatever comes next.
During my college search, I narrowed my options down to UVM and UConn. My aversion towards attending my state school (I’m from the New Haven area) mirrored the reasoning used by anyone who had attended a marginally big high school: because ‘everybody’ goes there and I wanted something different- that and I didn’t like the notion of my parents popping in weekly if I was so close to home. It’s also the reason I didn’t go to Yale. The reality? Your parents are fired up to get rid of you. (The Opinion Staff has started to phase out the usage of the word ‘you’ because it insinuates what the reader is thinking and can thus offend people who don’t hold that viewpoint. I’m not asserting that all your parent’s hate you.) Their mock anguish exists only to saddle you with the obligation to buy them nice things when you become successful. (I just said ‘you’ were going to be successful, ‘you’ can’t be pissed about that.)
I went on my college visit to UVM with the latent intention of making it my final choice. Anything I found attractive about the school, I would have overrated. Any deficiencies, I would have depreciated. “Oh it’s overrun by smelly hippies?” “I heard they were easy-going people.” We arrived at the school, gave the town a cursory glance and started in search of the football stadium; a staple of every assessment. Upon being notified by a confused undergraduate that the football stadium we were trying to find didn’t exist, my college decision was made. It’s one of those deal-breakers that wasn’t dismissible, like a girl telling you she’s really into Saw III or a guy canceling a first date an hour before he’s supposed to cook for a girl because he “just doesn’t feel like it.”
So Storrs it was and it proved to be a good time to jump on the Huskies’ bandwagon. The team moved up to Division I in 2000 and one of the swiftest rises to prominence in recent memory. They attracted the interest of a major conference by 2002, had joined that conference by 2004 and were given a bowl invitation in their first year of eligibility, an impressively fast growth spurt on anyone’s charts. Still, while they hovered on the edge of college football’s upper echelon, they still hadn’t made that prized kill; they weren’t yet “Made Men.” As Hunter S. Thompson once professed “The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.”
The Huskies went over that edge when they toppled the No. 10 ranked team in the nation. I went over that edge when I vaulted ten feet over a three-hundred pound, steroid addled security guard who had a scared freshman in a full nelson. The energy in the stands was palpable. Strangers were high-fiving and cracking jokes and making sure their neighbor would give them a boost onto the goal posts. A heavy rain has a harmonious effect on a group and probably also accounts for part of the reason the squad pulled off these last two wins. In sports it’s said that weather is the great equalizer and it definitely did its part in minimizing the handicap caused by the team’s usually inferior speed. But the effect of the crowd also can’t be dismissed. These past two weeks were a statement. The Huskies, like true alpha-dogs, marked their territory. The Rent is officially a war zone, an unstable environment for opposing forces. (They also have a hunting store right on the property, which is convenient for those who wanted to go to a football game and then buy a fishing rod or thought tailgating with a rifle raised the level of excitement.)
The game ended in the fashion of all memorable upsets, with a conclusion that had fans delirious with anticipation and with a nervous, “what’s going to happen next?” feeling )similar to how Britney Spears’ supporters feel.) The crowd descended onto the field with a mob mentality. This was my moment. I started towards the front, shoving kids out of the way like a self-indulgent passenger of the Titanic trying to get to a life boat. The sight of the security guard opening a can of whoop-ass only reminded me to, in the words of Van Halen, “hit the ground running.”
Let’s face it: aside from capsizing the goal posts, the actual rushing of the field activity is just a glorified exercise in insanity. After about age six or seven it stops being socially acceptable to jump around screaming in joy. There’s only so many times you can slam a player on their shoulder pads or high five a 65 year-old before you realize you’re acting like you just traded a fourth round draft pick for Randy Moss.
But the sense of achievement doesn’t derive from the actual act but rather the significance of the occasion. The football team has finally stepped onto the national stage. They earned their first -ever ranking in the respected polls. (At least all that lobster those players are being fed at their fancy new facility now seems justified for the time being.) And I got to rush the field. Now I’m okay with wrapping up my stay on this farmland, although that’s probably only for the time being, as well- at least until I realize I’m going to need a job that pays more than ten dollars an article.
Showing posts with label UConn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UConn. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Saturday, October 6, 2007
The Internet is Important: Archaeologists Have No Credibility
I have an intense distrust of archeologists. These earth dusters enter a cave and see a drawing of a man killing a buffalo with a sharp object. Then take detailed notes, analyze the soil content, and then three years later they write a thesis paper stating that people who lived in caves, referred to as “cavemen,” killed their prey with a primitive weapon known as a spear. I guess I’m selling these scholars a bit short. The work they do is probably a little more complicated- I just didn’t want to do any research. Anyway, for the sake of this article, we are going to leave it at that.
My point is that while analyzing drawings is simple enough, how do we know that these drawings are indicative of what was actually happening. When I was younger I liked the Ninja Turtles so much that I used to draw myself as a one every time we were asked to sketch a self portrait; I even went as far as changing my name. It was a very awkward experience to walk around high school with a letter jacket that said Leonardo on the front. But imagine a couple thousand years down the road, an archeologist unearths a painting of a Ninja Turtle approaching a girl at the lunch line. They might think that, in the past, turtles could talk, as well as learn various types of martial arts and they were very unsuccessful with women.
Now the counter argument is that these drawings are verified by stories that have been inscribed and passed down through the generations. But again, I call into question the reliability of these narrations. I’m sure you’ve played the proverbial “telephone” before. A rumor is started, and then you end up finding out that what you were told is mostly fabricated. But imagine that this version is the only one that makes it through the centuries and suddenly it’s on record as being the accurate portrayal.
Additionally, most of these stories have been translated by many people over the course of many years. I was working in a restaurant this summer and I had to carry a large amount of lemons and limes from the kitchen to the bar. The head cook, a very redoubtable man, saw me carrying them very negligently and he instructed me to put them in a bucket so the customers didn’t get a bad impression of the place. The problem was that he was a Mexican and had a Spanish tongue and I thought he told me to put them in my pocket because I am extremely awful at understanding accents. I ambled out of the kitchen with a mass of fruit in my pants, and this guy was speaking English. I’m not saying that everyone is as impaired as I am, I’m just saying that mistakes could have been made.
Haters will reason that many artifacts are found that help piece together history. Many of these pieces corroborate with the ancient accounts to form an almost certain record. But just think about how many dainty little trinkets are found that archaeologists have to use scattered knowledge to determine their functions. And then think about how much artwork is churned out by our pre-schools- they are like little useless craft sweatshops. Now fast forward to the distant future where Al Gore is somehow wrong and we still have a planet. An archeologist beams down from his space pod and his telekinesis tells him that there is some sort of artifact buried under a certain hover-craft race course. This young scholar digs up a macaroni necklace and after analyzing it he sells it for a billion dollars (I’m adjusting for inflation). Now some 60-year old Jewish woman is walking around wearing it like it is some sort of garish priceless piece of jewelry when it really was made by some three-year old, attached to a refrigerator until he forgot about it and then tossed into the receptacle for burying.
In reality I’m not trying to knock archaeologists, although I basically just did, I’m just trying to illustrate the fact that there is an element of uncertainty regarding the fellows who have previously walked this globe. The interesting aspect about all these scenarios is that, starting with the internet age, there will never be this kind of ambiguity. This handy little invention stores everything, and I mean everything. If you take an embarrassing photo and it’s posted on the web, it’s going to be there forever. If you make a song about your pick up truck and it is posted on a file sharing network, students at your former University will be able to download it and enjoy its lyrical quality for years to come.
Now this is going to have good and bad consequences depending on how you look at it. Some job applicants have been hurt by the fact that companies can pay to look back at the last three years of their Facebook profile. Interviewers can see the picture of the botched keg stand you did freshman year and discern that you do not follow through on projects.
On the flip side, we will now have a permanent record of current events. No more disintegrating newspapers or indecipherable tablets of stone. The accuracy of an account can be verified by checking the many different sources available. Thousands of years from now our posterity will be able to sit down in front of a computer, or most likely, put on a headset, and tell the voice commanded motherboard to pull up pictures of their great-great-great grandparents. They will be able to see what their ancestors looked like, what their activities were and even their favorite movies. They will have such a wealth of knowledge regarding our lives. The scariest part is that they will be able to find a column written by their ancestor 3,000 years ago and realize that they descended from some sort of weirdo that thinks about very odd things.
(You might have found this article amusing but the most amusing part to me were the comments it recieved when it ran in The Daily Campus, UConn's student newspaper. Here's the link to the article on the papers site, comments are at the bottom:
http://media.www.dailycampus.com/media/storage/paper340/news/2007/10/05/Commentary/Archaeologists.Have.No.Credibility-3014796.shtml)
My point is that while analyzing drawings is simple enough, how do we know that these drawings are indicative of what was actually happening. When I was younger I liked the Ninja Turtles so much that I used to draw myself as a one every time we were asked to sketch a self portrait; I even went as far as changing my name. It was a very awkward experience to walk around high school with a letter jacket that said Leonardo on the front. But imagine a couple thousand years down the road, an archeologist unearths a painting of a Ninja Turtle approaching a girl at the lunch line. They might think that, in the past, turtles could talk, as well as learn various types of martial arts and they were very unsuccessful with women.
Now the counter argument is that these drawings are verified by stories that have been inscribed and passed down through the generations. But again, I call into question the reliability of these narrations. I’m sure you’ve played the proverbial “telephone” before. A rumor is started, and then you end up finding out that what you were told is mostly fabricated. But imagine that this version is the only one that makes it through the centuries and suddenly it’s on record as being the accurate portrayal.
Additionally, most of these stories have been translated by many people over the course of many years. I was working in a restaurant this summer and I had to carry a large amount of lemons and limes from the kitchen to the bar. The head cook, a very redoubtable man, saw me carrying them very negligently and he instructed me to put them in a bucket so the customers didn’t get a bad impression of the place. The problem was that he was a Mexican and had a Spanish tongue and I thought he told me to put them in my pocket because I am extremely awful at understanding accents. I ambled out of the kitchen with a mass of fruit in my pants, and this guy was speaking English. I’m not saying that everyone is as impaired as I am, I’m just saying that mistakes could have been made.
Haters will reason that many artifacts are found that help piece together history. Many of these pieces corroborate with the ancient accounts to form an almost certain record. But just think about how many dainty little trinkets are found that archaeologists have to use scattered knowledge to determine their functions. And then think about how much artwork is churned out by our pre-schools- they are like little useless craft sweatshops. Now fast forward to the distant future where Al Gore is somehow wrong and we still have a planet. An archeologist beams down from his space pod and his telekinesis tells him that there is some sort of artifact buried under a certain hover-craft race course. This young scholar digs up a macaroni necklace and after analyzing it he sells it for a billion dollars (I’m adjusting for inflation). Now some 60-year old Jewish woman is walking around wearing it like it is some sort of garish priceless piece of jewelry when it really was made by some three-year old, attached to a refrigerator until he forgot about it and then tossed into the receptacle for burying.
In reality I’m not trying to knock archaeologists, although I basically just did, I’m just trying to illustrate the fact that there is an element of uncertainty regarding the fellows who have previously walked this globe. The interesting aspect about all these scenarios is that, starting with the internet age, there will never be this kind of ambiguity. This handy little invention stores everything, and I mean everything. If you take an embarrassing photo and it’s posted on the web, it’s going to be there forever. If you make a song about your pick up truck and it is posted on a file sharing network, students at your former University will be able to download it and enjoy its lyrical quality for years to come.
Now this is going to have good and bad consequences depending on how you look at it. Some job applicants have been hurt by the fact that companies can pay to look back at the last three years of their Facebook profile. Interviewers can see the picture of the botched keg stand you did freshman year and discern that you do not follow through on projects.
On the flip side, we will now have a permanent record of current events. No more disintegrating newspapers or indecipherable tablets of stone. The accuracy of an account can be verified by checking the many different sources available. Thousands of years from now our posterity will be able to sit down in front of a computer, or most likely, put on a headset, and tell the voice commanded motherboard to pull up pictures of their great-great-great grandparents. They will be able to see what their ancestors looked like, what their activities were and even their favorite movies. They will have such a wealth of knowledge regarding our lives. The scariest part is that they will be able to find a column written by their ancestor 3,000 years ago and realize that they descended from some sort of weirdo that thinks about very odd things.
(You might have found this article amusing but the most amusing part to me were the comments it recieved when it ran in The Daily Campus, UConn's student newspaper. Here's the link to the article on the papers site, comments are at the bottom:
http://media.www.dailycampus.com/media/storage/paper340/news/2007/10/05/Commentary/Archaeologists.Have.No.Credibility-3014796.shtml)
Monday, October 1, 2007
Sober Thoughts
Here’s a fun game: Use huskymail (UConn's e-mail service) to write a friend overseas and then go down to the post office and mail a letter to that same person and see which one arrives first.
I was in Walgreens and one of the medicines claimed to control the “symptoms” of diarrhea. What is a symptom of diarrhea- the presence of Mexican food?
While we’re on the subject, I’d like to mention that Taco Bell is very similar to child birth. Both inflict so much pain on your body but also bring so much joy to your life, or so I’ve heard. My mom probably prefers Taco Bell.
Do you think anybody goes to see the Oprah Show just for the free giveaways?
Do the UConn football players sit with bibs and lobster crackers trying to extract the meat from the shell of the lobster served at their new complex or does it come already prepared for them?
Has anyone seen the new Abercrombie “I just got in a severe accident with a paint truck” line of clothing? While we are on this subject, is there a machine whose specific purpose is ripping Abercrombie’s clothing but ripping it in a way that makes it look like it had been done through rigorous physical labor or a low level natural disaster?
Why do I hate the name Delilah?
Have you ever met anyone with the name Delilah?
An ad asked me yesterday if I was looking for a “fast, risk-free way to lose weight.” No, I’m looking for something a little more time consuming and preferably life-threatening.
What is the chain of events that leads someone to utter the words “I’m here for the male cheerleading tryouts?” I think the only thing worse than being on the male cheerleading team is getting cut from the male cheerleading team.
Rule Number 89: Your shirt can’t be wittier than you are.
Are exit signs in classrooms really necessary? If an individual can’t find the door in an emergency do we really WANT him or her to find the door?
I think text messaging officially became acceptable when Jack Nicholson was shown doing it in The Departed.
There is making sacrifices in the name of fashion and there is wearing jeans on an 80 degree day- some people just go that extra yard, even if that yard includes heat stroke.
I flipped by that Newport Beach show on MTV about the attractive high school kids who are all trying to have sex with each other and I was amused to note that I resembled one of the guys. How do you tell your friends that you think you kind of resemble someone that is said to be attractive with out looking like a narcissistic, self-absorbed loser. I guess the best answer is that I shouldn’t be watching the show to begin with.
I don’t know how to react to a wink.
I’m a senior and I still have not figured out what the proper “bus-stop-cord” etiquette is.
Is it weird that I want to take Viagra just to attempt to get a four hour erection?
It’s amazing that the three things that have had the most influence on the television industry in the last ten years have been TIVO, HDTV and Janet Jackson’s nipple.
Do you ever find yourself unintentionally wishing bad things on other people for personal gain? Such as, hoping your teacher gets in a horrible car accident that makes him unable to make it to class but that he does have a full recovery. Me neither.
Justin Timberlake is so Now.
Did anyone feel that when “Man vs. Wild’s” Bear Grylls was proven a phony it was like being told that Barry Bonds used steroids to hit 71 home runs at age 37. (Wait a second…You mean Bear didn’t really cut down dozens of trees with his pocket knife and then bind them together using only reeds in order to make a raft that would allow him to sail off a deserted island? Really?)
On a side not, it was too good to be true that the seemingly manliest human alive was named Bear. That was stretching it right there.
Ever have a teacher say to you, “You know back in my day we didn’t have these fancy computers to do all the work for us?” How are we supposed to respond to this? Hold them and rub their back while they quietly sob. Is their goal to remind us that technology tends to improve every once in a while? These are the times when I need my life coach with me for guidance.
A textbook costs me 160 dollars and then I stay up all night reading it to prepare for a test consequently making me all strung out and awful to be around and causing me to be afraid to call my parents because of the state I am in. I’ve heard that for much a much cheaper price, cocaine will have all the same effects except be a whole lot more fun.
What sort of thank you gift do you get for a friend who sucked venom from your snake bite?
Reason No. 437 why my roommates and I shouldn’t be living without a chaperone: the presence of paper towel next to the “oval office” because the toilet paper had run out.
People I’d like to meet in an empty room with a baseball bat: Norman Chad, Wendy Williams, Skip Bayless.
Finally, this weeks TV idea: I think that if there was a Wedding Channel that just played ceremonies of all different types women would flock to it like it was a free showing of “Sleepless in Seattle.” There could be commentators making catty observations about the bridesmaids and the general set up of the service. It would also have a sidebar that gives statistics so when the bride is walking down the aisle it would run the graphic showing that, at this point, brides only run about 2.3% of the time and the reason is usually the groom’s looks.
I was in Walgreens and one of the medicines claimed to control the “symptoms” of diarrhea. What is a symptom of diarrhea- the presence of Mexican food?
While we’re on the subject, I’d like to mention that Taco Bell is very similar to child birth. Both inflict so much pain on your body but also bring so much joy to your life, or so I’ve heard. My mom probably prefers Taco Bell.
Do you think anybody goes to see the Oprah Show just for the free giveaways?
Do the UConn football players sit with bibs and lobster crackers trying to extract the meat from the shell of the lobster served at their new complex or does it come already prepared for them?
Has anyone seen the new Abercrombie “I just got in a severe accident with a paint truck” line of clothing? While we are on this subject, is there a machine whose specific purpose is ripping Abercrombie’s clothing but ripping it in a way that makes it look like it had been done through rigorous physical labor or a low level natural disaster?
Why do I hate the name Delilah?
Have you ever met anyone with the name Delilah?
An ad asked me yesterday if I was looking for a “fast, risk-free way to lose weight.” No, I’m looking for something a little more time consuming and preferably life-threatening.
What is the chain of events that leads someone to utter the words “I’m here for the male cheerleading tryouts?” I think the only thing worse than being on the male cheerleading team is getting cut from the male cheerleading team.
Rule Number 89: Your shirt can’t be wittier than you are.
Are exit signs in classrooms really necessary? If an individual can’t find the door in an emergency do we really WANT him or her to find the door?
I think text messaging officially became acceptable when Jack Nicholson was shown doing it in The Departed.
There is making sacrifices in the name of fashion and there is wearing jeans on an 80 degree day- some people just go that extra yard, even if that yard includes heat stroke.
I flipped by that Newport Beach show on MTV about the attractive high school kids who are all trying to have sex with each other and I was amused to note that I resembled one of the guys. How do you tell your friends that you think you kind of resemble someone that is said to be attractive with out looking like a narcissistic, self-absorbed loser. I guess the best answer is that I shouldn’t be watching the show to begin with.
I don’t know how to react to a wink.
I’m a senior and I still have not figured out what the proper “bus-stop-cord” etiquette is.
Is it weird that I want to take Viagra just to attempt to get a four hour erection?
It’s amazing that the three things that have had the most influence on the television industry in the last ten years have been TIVO, HDTV and Janet Jackson’s nipple.
Do you ever find yourself unintentionally wishing bad things on other people for personal gain? Such as, hoping your teacher gets in a horrible car accident that makes him unable to make it to class but that he does have a full recovery. Me neither.
Justin Timberlake is so Now.
Did anyone feel that when “Man vs. Wild’s” Bear Grylls was proven a phony it was like being told that Barry Bonds used steroids to hit 71 home runs at age 37. (Wait a second…You mean Bear didn’t really cut down dozens of trees with his pocket knife and then bind them together using only reeds in order to make a raft that would allow him to sail off a deserted island? Really?)
On a side not, it was too good to be true that the seemingly manliest human alive was named Bear. That was stretching it right there.
Ever have a teacher say to you, “You know back in my day we didn’t have these fancy computers to do all the work for us?” How are we supposed to respond to this? Hold them and rub their back while they quietly sob. Is their goal to remind us that technology tends to improve every once in a while? These are the times when I need my life coach with me for guidance.
A textbook costs me 160 dollars and then I stay up all night reading it to prepare for a test consequently making me all strung out and awful to be around and causing me to be afraid to call my parents because of the state I am in. I’ve heard that for much a much cheaper price, cocaine will have all the same effects except be a whole lot more fun.
What sort of thank you gift do you get for a friend who sucked venom from your snake bite?
Reason No. 437 why my roommates and I shouldn’t be living without a chaperone: the presence of paper towel next to the “oval office” because the toilet paper had run out.
People I’d like to meet in an empty room with a baseball bat: Norman Chad, Wendy Williams, Skip Bayless.
Finally, this weeks TV idea: I think that if there was a Wedding Channel that just played ceremonies of all different types women would flock to it like it was a free showing of “Sleepless in Seattle.” There could be commentators making catty observations about the bridesmaids and the general set up of the service. It would also have a sidebar that gives statistics so when the bride is walking down the aisle it would run the graphic showing that, at this point, brides only run about 2.3% of the time and the reason is usually the groom’s looks.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Hate, Hate, Hate
Two notable results stemming from me being home from school and without a full-time job:
1) I've made sure to catch up on my sleep-time which resulted in my dad giving me the sagely advice that I was, "missing out on a lot of life." Touching, really.
2) I've been reading a lot of blogs lately, mostly sports related, and I have observed an interesting if not slightly disturbing trend: it has become suddenly "en vogue" to hate on ESPN.
I have never been a big fan of blogs, it has always seemed like a flaky medium; most out there are written by people who have no idea what they are doing and have nothing interesting to say, including me. In fact, a lot of them make you feel like someone is forcing you to read their diary that is filled with awkward brooding and ill-advised opinions. The only reason these people are read is because they have found a free avenue to publish themselves and, again, this includes me. Once I saw that blogs had become somewhat "accepted" I decided to create one only because it was something to keep me busy and it was an outlet for writing everyday. I still cringe at the fact that I can call myself a blogger and trying to tell someone that I blog feels like trying to declare that I enjoy hanging out in the JCC shower room for long periods of time.
Now I'm not trying to give a history lesson on blogs, just what I've observed in my short time in the "blogosphere." (Yea, I felt creepy just typing that word- now would be Chris Hanson's cue to walk in the room.) Blogs, especially sports-related sites, have become the relative counterculture to the mainstream press. Newspapers and professional websites report on the facts and results of games and give their certified opinions on the relevant matters, while blogs tend to lean towards customarily comedic commentary (that's alliteration homes) that isn't normally or even able to be discussed in the national press. For example, Profootballtalk.com has a tally going on how long its been since the last player has been arrested and a certain amount of points is awarded to that player's team depending on if the crime was a felony or a misdemeanor. For a number of reasons this is a gimmick that a respected institution, like the New York Times, could never attempt. The simple explanation being that they see it as below them and generally disreputable.
Another function of blogs is that they serve as a forum for fans to air their complaints about anything having to do with sports. Again, national media habitually steers away from this type of gravely negative commentary because they don't like to burn bridges and lose their access. Bloggers don't usually have any access to begin with so they have no misgivings. One such site is Awful Announcing which deals with sports announcers and their general incompetence. Most other blogs' (good examples: Deadspin, Kissing Suzy Kolber) main objective is to present sports in an entertaining, humorous manner with the main through line being that they are uncensored, honest sites that don't shy away from sensitive material and don't pull any punches. It makes for very interesting reading and sometimes these unadulterated takes on the main stories are a refreshing change of pace.
What I'm getting at here is that in frequenting these sites I've seen a prevalence of criticism of ESPN and its writers. These sites have taken on everyone from their most popular online writer, Bill Simmons, to their on air talent, such as Chris Berman and Stuart Scott. Some of the criticism regards them being just unfunny, while others have accused them of "stealing" reports, or reporting on the break of a story as if it was their own or just flat-out degrading the network. Now I'm not saying this criticism is unwarranted or even incorrect. I agree with a good deal of the stuff written. Simmons can sound a bit like an egomaniac sometimes, Berman will pull a Dane Cook and just get downright annoying and too flamboyant and Stuart Scott does tend to venture in to Carlos Mencia territory and try to play up the race factor a bit too much, dawg. What I take issue with is that the criticism of ESPN has spilled into downright hate of the network. Not in some cases; a few sites do acknowledge their respect for the boys from Bristol and make sure to note that they are only offering objective assessments but there are those out there that have expressed genuine distaste for what they sarcastically refer to as the "Worldwide Leader," and this confuses me.
Growing up ESPN was like a sports-loving uncle that permanently lived in my basement. Back then I would be up early enough in the morning that I would occasionally see the sunrise and it wasn't because I had been up all night drinking or trying to catchup before a final. Rather, I had some sort of motivation (which doesn't exist anymore or has been beaten out of me) that caused me to pop out of bed at the break of dawn and run downstairs every weekend morning and deposit myself in front of the TV. While most kids watched Looney Toons or Animaniacs or Rugrats, I immediately tuned to Sportscenter. I would watch it over and over until I could either narrate the highlights myself, or some sort of fishing show came on and then I would finally switch over to cartoons. This was before the Internet; ESPN was my portal in to the sports world and it had an obsessive effect on me like inhabiting John Malkovich had on Cameron Diaz in "Being John Malkovich."
As I grew older ESPN always had a place reserved in my heart. Tom put up an ESPN Classic banner in our common room in our apartment at UConn and to me it was like hanging up a priceless work of art. In my view, it was comparable to putting up an original Picasso or the actual hand-painted portrait of Kramer from the Seinfeld episode. Sports coverage today is as diverse as ever, ESPN may still be the leader, but others are beginning to catch up. ESPN even had to create a sports magazine so they could compete with the one that is currently on HBO. So maybe they might have lost a step or gotten a tad boring sometimes but I just can't ever imagine harboring any hate towards the network. It baffles me that anyone could look at them as anything but a legendary institution in the same vein as Playboy and Jack Daniels. What they have done for sports deserves its own post in and of itself and is so evident that even me stating this seems rhetorical. But then again, I'm a blogger. Fuck.
1) I've made sure to catch up on my sleep-time which resulted in my dad giving me the sagely advice that I was, "missing out on a lot of life." Touching, really.
2) I've been reading a lot of blogs lately, mostly sports related, and I have observed an interesting if not slightly disturbing trend: it has become suddenly "en vogue" to hate on ESPN.
I have never been a big fan of blogs, it has always seemed like a flaky medium; most out there are written by people who have no idea what they are doing and have nothing interesting to say, including me. In fact, a lot of them make you feel like someone is forcing you to read their diary that is filled with awkward brooding and ill-advised opinions. The only reason these people are read is because they have found a free avenue to publish themselves and, again, this includes me. Once I saw that blogs had become somewhat "accepted" I decided to create one only because it was something to keep me busy and it was an outlet for writing everyday. I still cringe at the fact that I can call myself a blogger and trying to tell someone that I blog feels like trying to declare that I enjoy hanging out in the JCC shower room for long periods of time.
Now I'm not trying to give a history lesson on blogs, just what I've observed in my short time in the "blogosphere." (Yea, I felt creepy just typing that word- now would be Chris Hanson's cue to walk in the room.) Blogs, especially sports-related sites, have become the relative counterculture to the mainstream press. Newspapers and professional websites report on the facts and results of games and give their certified opinions on the relevant matters, while blogs tend to lean towards customarily comedic commentary (that's alliteration homes) that isn't normally or even able to be discussed in the national press. For example, Profootballtalk.com has a tally going on how long its been since the last player has been arrested and a certain amount of points is awarded to that player's team depending on if the crime was a felony or a misdemeanor. For a number of reasons this is a gimmick that a respected institution, like the New York Times, could never attempt. The simple explanation being that they see it as below them and generally disreputable.
Another function of blogs is that they serve as a forum for fans to air their complaints about anything having to do with sports. Again, national media habitually steers away from this type of gravely negative commentary because they don't like to burn bridges and lose their access. Bloggers don't usually have any access to begin with so they have no misgivings. One such site is Awful Announcing which deals with sports announcers and their general incompetence. Most other blogs' (good examples: Deadspin, Kissing Suzy Kolber) main objective is to present sports in an entertaining, humorous manner with the main through line being that they are uncensored, honest sites that don't shy away from sensitive material and don't pull any punches. It makes for very interesting reading and sometimes these unadulterated takes on the main stories are a refreshing change of pace.
What I'm getting at here is that in frequenting these sites I've seen a prevalence of criticism of ESPN and its writers. These sites have taken on everyone from their most popular online writer, Bill Simmons, to their on air talent, such as Chris Berman and Stuart Scott. Some of the criticism regards them being just unfunny, while others have accused them of "stealing" reports, or reporting on the break of a story as if it was their own or just flat-out degrading the network. Now I'm not saying this criticism is unwarranted or even incorrect. I agree with a good deal of the stuff written. Simmons can sound a bit like an egomaniac sometimes, Berman will pull a Dane Cook and just get downright annoying and too flamboyant and Stuart Scott does tend to venture in to Carlos Mencia territory and try to play up the race factor a bit too much, dawg. What I take issue with is that the criticism of ESPN has spilled into downright hate of the network. Not in some cases; a few sites do acknowledge their respect for the boys from Bristol and make sure to note that they are only offering objective assessments but there are those out there that have expressed genuine distaste for what they sarcastically refer to as the "Worldwide Leader," and this confuses me.
Growing up ESPN was like a sports-loving uncle that permanently lived in my basement. Back then I would be up early enough in the morning that I would occasionally see the sunrise and it wasn't because I had been up all night drinking or trying to catchup before a final. Rather, I had some sort of motivation (which doesn't exist anymore or has been beaten out of me) that caused me to pop out of bed at the break of dawn and run downstairs every weekend morning and deposit myself in front of the TV. While most kids watched Looney Toons or Animaniacs or Rugrats, I immediately tuned to Sportscenter. I would watch it over and over until I could either narrate the highlights myself, or some sort of fishing show came on and then I would finally switch over to cartoons. This was before the Internet; ESPN was my portal in to the sports world and it had an obsessive effect on me like inhabiting John Malkovich had on Cameron Diaz in "Being John Malkovich."
As I grew older ESPN always had a place reserved in my heart. Tom put up an ESPN Classic banner in our common room in our apartment at UConn and to me it was like hanging up a priceless work of art. In my view, it was comparable to putting up an original Picasso or the actual hand-painted portrait of Kramer from the Seinfeld episode. Sports coverage today is as diverse as ever, ESPN may still be the leader, but others are beginning to catch up. ESPN even had to create a sports magazine so they could compete with the one that is currently on HBO. So maybe they might have lost a step or gotten a tad boring sometimes but I just can't ever imagine harboring any hate towards the network. It baffles me that anyone could look at them as anything but a legendary institution in the same vein as Playboy and Jack Daniels. What they have done for sports deserves its own post in and of itself and is so evident that even me stating this seems rhetorical. But then again, I'm a blogger. Fuck.
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