I won't pretend that I wasn't quietly satisfied at the hockey "Winter War" when I got up this morning.
The 2014 Sochi Olympic Games as Putin's pet project always irked me. I know, I konw, the guy is no worse than many another politician, just another grifting thug, but he's a grifting thug in charge of a hell of a big country with pretensions of global power and seeing the Finns piss in his morning kvass was as satisfying as watching a Gingrich marriage fail or a Wall Street CEO perp-walked.
No matter how painful the failure, if the object of the pain is really loathsome you just can't help smiling when they get booted in the nuts.
I don't pretend that my country is a treasure. But Russia is, by all accounts, a goddamn mess.
That made me think about how many of the world's nations and governments are similarly completely screwed, at least for the people who have to live with them.
My friend Labrys mentions a couple of the more visible of these sorts of screw-jobs this morning: Ukraine. Syria. North Korea.
The amazing thing I come across is the number of people - largely on the Right but extending across the political spectrum to the "liberal interventionists" - who seem to think that the United States should use its Green Lantern powers of armed force to "straighten out" these fucked-up places.
In most of these people it seems to me that their "analysis" completely elides why these places are so damn fucked up right now. Which is, simply put, that they were always fucked up for one reason or another (or a cascade of multiple reasons..!) and are just showing the latest symptoms of that total fuckedupitude.
I mean, how the hell was, short of a massive sociopolitical and economic makeover, Ukraine every going to be a haven of social peace, economic dynamism, and political good-government? Ukraine is an internally divided pseudostate suffering from the usual post-Soviet hangover of thugokleptocracy and economic malaise. The conflict between the West-leaning “Ukranian” western part and the Soviet-leaning, “Russian” eastern and southern parts was almost inevitable and almost equally doomed to messy political breakdown.
How the fuck is anyone, let alone some helicopter foreign power, going to change that without an investment of blood and treasure that would make the Roman or British Empires look as brief and shallow as a Hollywood marriage?
Syria? Gee…autocratic rule by a Shiite minority over a Sunni majority in a part of the world where the lagacies of Ottoman and colonial rule range from dysfunctional to toxic and are constantly rubbed raw by the irritant of Israeli and U.S. (and Soviet) fucking-around? Who’d have thought that THAT would end up being fucked up and difficult to fix?
North Korea? What sane person even wants to stick a fist in THAT tar-baby? The best possible outcome from intervention – nearly immediate collapse of the Kim regime – still leaves the neighbors China and South Korea with an impoverished and desperate mess on their hands that makes the unification of Germany look like child’s play by comparison.
The worst possible outcome is so nightmarish to make anyone but a complete idiot shudder.
My Bride, lovely woman that she is, is perhaps a great example of this. She has recently become fascinated with North Korea, and was glued to her tablet as the U.N. laid out its case against the North Korean government. And what a case it is: Murders, judicial and otherwise. Rape, torture, infanticide, starvation, confinements that make the Cell of Little Ease look like a chaise lounge...
She was, as any decent person should be, appalled. But what appalled her more was my cynical response to her report of the U.N.'s call to action.
"Yeah. Sure." I said. "And who the hell is going to do that?" She asked what I meant.
"The Norks won't do anything, the people are beat-down and the Kimistas like things how they are. There's almost no economic or political leverage strong enough to make the Kim regime people chance making reforms that will end with them getting Ceaușescued.
The Chinese don't want to prod them in case the place falls apart and they get overrun with a gajillion starving Norks. The South Koreans want that even less plus with the possibility of nerve gas sauce on the side?
Not.
We, the U.S., already have too damn much on our plate to want a potential geopolitical disaster on the Pacific Rim. Nobody else has either the give-a-shit, the muscle, or both."
"Plus, frankly, what the hell could you do?
North Korea is a fucking black hole of bad governance and economic disaster that has intentionally cut itself off from the sane world. It's never had a moment of civil society or modern democracy, not a scintilla of economic sanity, or social normality since some time before the Japanese invaded a-way the fuck back near the turn of the 20th Century. North Korea is a complete fuckstory, and simply arriving with an M203 in one hand and an Ipad in the other? Ain't gonna change that."
"Regardless of what happens to the Kim regime, North Korea is destined to be fucked up for generations unless the North Korean people can manage a miracle AND some combination of foreign powers can help them and not fuck up somehow, which is more likely than not."
She desperately wanted to believe that there was something that the Good People of the World could do to change that. And in that she's no different than the other good people of my country who want the U.S. to "help" Syria, or Ukraine, or Egypt, or Nigeria, or Venezuela.
Or the assholes that just want to nuke 'em until they glow and then pick off the survivors in the dark.
Neither approach is an actual sane foreign policy.
Which needs to accept that a whole lot of the world is utterly screwed, politically, and pretty much all those of us in the relatively-unscrewed portions can do is stay the fuck out of their nuthouse and learn from them that good government is precious and not to be taken - or thrown away - lightly.
By, for example, electing idiots, grifters, and morons who will reject things like science and rationality in favor of religious nonsense and economic snake-oil. By pretending that economies are magic and not created by humans with human failings and, thus, liable to reward thieves and charlatans if not judiciously managed. By blundering about the globe expending blood and treasure trying to unfuck places that can only be unfucked by those living there with a critical stake in accomplishing and preserving the unfucking.
By ignoring that social and political divisions are far easier to create than repair, and that once the social, political, and economic cohesion of a polity is wrecked it may be impossible to reassemble.
Once we've figured that out then we might simply be able to sit back and just enjoy watching a gang of plucky Finns take an axe to their asshole neighbor's motti.
That and enjoy watching the Russian autocrat forced to listen to the organ in his hockey palace play him a sad, sad song.
Showing posts with label Olympics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olympics. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Sunday, August 05, 2012
Silver and gold
Since this year's Tour ended my bride and I have taken to making the Summer Olympics our occasional morning or evening tube break. They're sort of perfect for that purpose; you don't have to remember what happened last week, you can tell who's-who because the actors usually have their names somewhere either on their shirts or on the screen, and the entire little episode usually wraps up in less than an hour.
And sometimes you get to enjoy some truly delicious weirdness.
Don't get me wrong; I appreciate many of the sports for the skill and dedication they require. But, honestly? I could probably go to my grave without really caring who wins all those shooting medals (what's the point unless the target gets to shoot back, really?), I can't help but thinking that beach volleyball is sort of ridiculous (what other "sport" has to be played in a bikini, and, if it does, why don't the men have to wear Speedos?), and, really, fucking water polo?
It may be a hell of a sport to play, but it's the most boring sport to watch outside competitive chess if you're willing to count that as a sport and I don't.
But the thing that got me thinking about all this was catching a brief moment of some Yank getting a gold for shooting something - skeet, I believe.
And it was all very nice, but...the relentless homerism of the NBC broadcasting network really grates on me. It's nice that some American boy will take home a medal for shooting clays, but...how about hearing and seeing some of those gajillions of other people who have come all this way to compete?
And the flag-waving and medal counting...
Ugh. I could go on and on, but, why?
The bottom line is, has always been, and always will be that nationalism and patriotic lust for gold and silver drives the Olympic bus. Take away the flags and anthems and uniforms and turn it into a bunch of random people just trying to be the best kayaker or fencer or judo player in the world?
Good luck getting forty or fifty people in a high-school gym for that one, bub.
Aside from all the ridiculous puffery on the one hand and the genuine hard graft and effort on the other the one thing about these Games that sort of fascinates me are the stories of the folks down there at the bottom of the "medal count", the single champions or runners-up from (mostly) the little countries at the south end of the world. The weightlifter from Taiwan, the track cycling gal from Hong Kong, the epee fencer from Venezuela.
What is it like to be these people?
To beat the odds, to beat the weightlifters and cyclists and fencers from the big nations with the big money and the big organizations, to stand there with the broad satin ribbon and the big metal disk on your chest while you listen to the music playing that's telling the world that for the next four years you are the best in the world at your sport (or second best, or third...in all the world!) and that you have done something that no one else - no one - in all your country has done?
How does that feel? How would I feel, if it was me, standing there, knowing that I would probably be the lone Uzbek or Taiwanese to fly home with one of those beribboned trophies?
It must be a very odd feeling, and a very fierce feeling, and a very wonderous feeling, all at the same time.
And sometimes you get to enjoy some truly delicious weirdness.
Don't get me wrong; I appreciate many of the sports for the skill and dedication they require. But, honestly? I could probably go to my grave without really caring who wins all those shooting medals (what's the point unless the target gets to shoot back, really?), I can't help but thinking that beach volleyball is sort of ridiculous (what other "sport" has to be played in a bikini, and, if it does, why don't the men have to wear Speedos?), and, really, fucking water polo?
It may be a hell of a sport to play, but it's the most boring sport to watch outside competitive chess if you're willing to count that as a sport and I don't.
But the thing that got me thinking about all this was catching a brief moment of some Yank getting a gold for shooting something - skeet, I believe.
And it was all very nice, but...the relentless homerism of the NBC broadcasting network really grates on me. It's nice that some American boy will take home a medal for shooting clays, but...how about hearing and seeing some of those gajillions of other people who have come all this way to compete?
And the flag-waving and medal counting...
Ugh. I could go on and on, but, why?
The bottom line is, has always been, and always will be that nationalism and patriotic lust for gold and silver drives the Olympic bus. Take away the flags and anthems and uniforms and turn it into a bunch of random people just trying to be the best kayaker or fencer or judo player in the world?
Good luck getting forty or fifty people in a high-school gym for that one, bub.
Aside from all the ridiculous puffery on the one hand and the genuine hard graft and effort on the other the one thing about these Games that sort of fascinates me are the stories of the folks down there at the bottom of the "medal count", the single champions or runners-up from (mostly) the little countries at the south end of the world. The weightlifter from Taiwan, the track cycling gal from Hong Kong, the epee fencer from Venezuela.
What is it like to be these people?
To beat the odds, to beat the weightlifters and cyclists and fencers from the big nations with the big money and the big organizations, to stand there with the broad satin ribbon and the big metal disk on your chest while you listen to the music playing that's telling the world that for the next four years you are the best in the world at your sport (or second best, or third...in all the world!) and that you have done something that no one else - no one - in all your country has done?
How does that feel? How would I feel, if it was me, standing there, knowing that I would probably be the lone Uzbek or Taiwanese to fly home with one of those beribboned trophies?
It must be a very odd feeling, and a very fierce feeling, and a very wonderous feeling, all at the same time.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Final Thoughts on the Beijing Olympics (3)
One thing that really chapped me and always has about the Olympics is the relentless discussion and dissection of the medal count. Who's got what, how, and why, and how the number of medals, or the number of golds, is implied to speak something wonderful (or, if said number is low, terrible) about countries and peoples.
What got me thinking about what a freakish, artificial notion this was watching the woman pictured at left, a Byelorussian race walker named Ryta Turava, compete in the 20K women's race walk.
Have you ever seen this sport? It's just like what you'd think - a bunch of people power walking, only with an incredibly sinuous stride that makes you think of Mata Hari and Indian yogis and wonder how double-jointed you need to be to be a great race walker.
This poor woman had a horrible day. She kept thrusting her fingers down her throat, weaving on and off the course clearly in distress until finally, in the penultimate lap, she simply stopped, bent over and made herself be sick; she must have had an awful bellyache. She eventually finished eleventh.
This is not to tell the story of the race; it's just to introduce the fact that the woman is Byelorussian. That day I was perusing the medal table and realized that "Russia", which if you look just at the stats finished a distant third overall, at one time included Belarus, Ukraine, Estonia, about fifteen 'Stans, all the way down to lowly Moldova. Add all the "former Soviet" states into "Russia's" total and you get something that looks like this...
Country Golds Silvers Bronzes Total Medals
Russia 23 21 28 72
Ukraine 7 5 15 27
Belarus 4 5 10 19
Kazakhstan 2 4 7 13
Azerbaijan 1 2 4 7
Georgia 3 0 3 6
Uzbekistan 1 2 3 6
Armenia 0 0 6 6
Lithuania 0 2 3 5
Latvia 1 1 1 3
Estonia 1 1 0 2
Kyrgyzstan 0 1 1 2
Tajikistan 0 1 1 2
Moldova 0 0 1 1
Totals 43 45 83 171
Here's a full rundown of this amalgmation of former SSRs. For all the boasting and gloating about U.S. medal totals and Chinese golds, only an accident of history dismembered the country that would have been an Olympic monster for medals this summer, relegating the current braggarts to distant second and third.
And all of this means...what?
Not one damn thing, I'd opine. This Jesuitical twittering over medals doesn't so much as feed a single hungry kid in Armenia, or resurrect one dead soldier in Georgia, or make one Chinese woman's or Azeri man's day brighter or happier or more hopeful. A bunch of athletes did well, or poorly, and good for them. A bunch of nations' athletes did well or poorly, and that says nothing about the life of your average Moldovan or average American, for that matter.
And this endless fiddling with medals and who won and who didn't, and how we "need" to win more and spend more to do it?
Please.
I enjoy sport: playing it, watching it. At its best sport helps celebrate the best of the human body and illuminate some very good (and very evil) features of the human soul. But it's not worth the life of the meanest bastard ever whelped, and I'm sorry to see that, as in this quadrennial yelping over medals, we can ever forget that.

What got me thinking about what a freakish, artificial notion this was watching the woman pictured at left, a Byelorussian race walker named Ryta Turava, compete in the 20K women's race walk.
Have you ever seen this sport? It's just like what you'd think - a bunch of people power walking, only with an incredibly sinuous stride that makes you think of Mata Hari and Indian yogis and wonder how double-jointed you need to be to be a great race walker.

This poor woman had a horrible day. She kept thrusting her fingers down her throat, weaving on and off the course clearly in distress until finally, in the penultimate lap, she simply stopped, bent over and made herself be sick; she must have had an awful bellyache. She eventually finished eleventh.
This is not to tell the story of the race; it's just to introduce the fact that the woman is Byelorussian. That day I was perusing the medal table and realized that "Russia", which if you look just at the stats finished a distant third overall, at one time included Belarus, Ukraine, Estonia, about fifteen 'Stans, all the way down to lowly Moldova. Add all the "former Soviet" states into "Russia's" total and you get something that looks like this...
Country Golds Silvers Bronzes Total Medals
Russia 23 21 28 72
Ukraine 7 5 15 27
Belarus 4 5 10 19
Kazakhstan 2 4 7 13
Azerbaijan 1 2 4 7
Georgia 3 0 3 6
Uzbekistan 1 2 3 6
Armenia 0 0 6 6
Lithuania 0 2 3 5
Latvia 1 1 1 3
Estonia 1 1 0 2
Kyrgyzstan 0 1 1 2
Tajikistan 0 1 1 2
Moldova 0 0 1 1
Totals 43 45 83 171
Here's a full rundown of this amalgmation of former SSRs. For all the boasting and gloating about U.S. medal totals and Chinese golds, only an accident of history dismembered the country that would have been an Olympic monster for medals this summer, relegating the current braggarts to distant second and third.
And all of this means...what?

Not one damn thing, I'd opine. This Jesuitical twittering over medals doesn't so much as feed a single hungry kid in Armenia, or resurrect one dead soldier in Georgia, or make one Chinese woman's or Azeri man's day brighter or happier or more hopeful. A bunch of athletes did well, or poorly, and good for them. A bunch of nations' athletes did well or poorly, and that says nothing about the life of your average Moldovan or average American, for that matter.
And this endless fiddling with medals and who won and who didn't, and how we "need" to win more and spend more to do it?
Please.
I enjoy sport: playing it, watching it. At its best sport helps celebrate the best of the human body and illuminate some very good (and very evil) features of the human soul. But it's not worth the life of the meanest bastard ever whelped, and I'm sorry to see that, as in this quadrennial yelping over medals, we can ever forget that.
Random Thoughts on the Beijing Olympics (2)
Sat through the VERY...interesting...closing ceremony last night complete with riotous children leaping about the house as well as the "Bird's Nest" (at 8:30pm which is what happens when little girls have three-hour naps - be warned!) and had several thoughts about the past couple of weeks:
1. The Ancient Greeks probably would be appalled by the monster spectacle of corporate wealth and national chest-beating that is the modern Olympics. Mind you, being Greek, hardheaded, and avaricious, they probably would have lept right in: the ancient Games weren't exactly a model of childish innocence.
2. If you really want a hell of a show, always award this thing to a populous, insecure dictatorship. When the NBC commentators talked about the "4 million volunteers" (many of whom, I suspect, were volunteered in the way I used to "volunteer" my troops for details when I was a drill sergeant and Lord of All I Surveyed) and the 40 billion (not sure if this was yuan or dollars, but either is a LOT of lucre for a country with poverty as dire as China's) spent on this two-week sportfest, I kept thinking of the decrepit apartment blocks I saw in Guangzhou. I'm sure if you asked them the apartment dwellers would tell you of the pride that the Games afforded them and how that made the cost worthwhile. There are times our government is supposed to be smarter than we are. This would be one.
3. Water polo is still the MOST boring sport ever televised. Although I have to add that if I ever see another game of beach volleyball (or regular volleyball), swimming race or diving competition it will be one too many. I don't care how many Americans medal.
4. And while we're on the subject, I have to admit rooting for the Brazilians in the men's volleyball final (to the extent I gave an actual shit) just because I was SO sick of NBC's undisguised "USA! USA!" attitude. Hey, guys? I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy, a Yankee Doodle-do-or-die, and I wanted to see more Estonian discus hurlers, Malawian runners and Japanese badminton players. I can see Americans play any day I go to the park. This is supposed to be the World's Games. Let's see more of the world, OK.
5. OK, I admit it: Mike Phelps can freakin' swim. But I STILL think that Croatian came in first, or at least tied. Whatever.
6. Speaking of swimmers, I was fascinated by the Mysterious Disappearance of Dara Torres until I read that she had "only" "snagged two silvers". Well, so much for you, Missus "Miracle on Chlorine" old bag lady swimming no-hoper! No wonder NBC stopped talking about you, you big, old, LOSER!! Why don't you take your sad little silvers and stomp home to your baby all dripping wet, you raddled harridan...?!
7. The little feature that NBC did on doping had the drug control people talking about how their fear was that the next level of cheating would be "genetic manipulation", and they said it like the swimmers would show up with gills or the cyclists with wheels instead of legs. But what I couldn't help thinking was of the teeny little gymnasts, the impossibly tall volleyballers,
slender gracile east African distance runners, troll-like shotputters and think that "genetic manipulation" was right there for us to see. Anything more would simply be the 21st Century equivalent of selective breeding...
8. And speaking of selective breeding AND Dara Torres, I couldn't help noticing that Ms. Torres has among the largest feet I've ever seen on a woman and I say that as a man with size 13 dogs. I mean, she's a big gal and her feet are shapely and not out of proportion, exactly.
But then, it makes perfect sense; what better way to swim fast than have Nature's swim fins at the end of your legs? To help alleviate the sameness of the sleek-suited swimmers all seemingly swimming the same race over and over again I started focusing on hands and feet, and, you know what? Most of the swimmers have great big, fin-like appendages. Huh. How 'bout that? Genetic manipulation? Or natural selection? We report. You decide.
9. For all that NBC drove me nuts with their bias (my friend L asked "This is the Olympic Games - why don't we see the discus, the javelin, any of the ancient sports?" and, just for laughs I checked: not a Yank in the top 12. Sorry, L, no Yankees? No TV.) CCTV, the official Chinese TV agency, was worse. Here's Jim Fallows from Beijing:
10. For all the hype, the nationalism and the disgusting orgy of corporate remoras feeding off this thing,
I still find the idea of all these young people coming from all over to try and do their best, for whatever reasons; hope, competitive fire, greed, obsession...strangely compelling.
Who couldn't love that adorable nut, Andreas Thorkildsen, with his laurel-crown hairdo,winning the javelin? Here's a guy who's never gonna be on a cereal box, ever have his own VISA card, never be anything more than a footnote in an immense record book, a long-forgotten addendum to history in 8-point agate type.
And yet, you can hope that one day, long hence, his kids and their kids will find that gold disk and its faded ribbon in its dusty box, and race into the kitchen shouting in Norwegian.
And Grandpa Torkildsen can grin that same goofy grin he's got in his picture today and tell them of the day when all the world met in Beijing and he was young, and strong, and brave, and the world was, too.


3. Water polo is still the MOST boring sport ever televised. Although I have to add that if I ever see another game of beach volleyball (or regular volleyball), swimming race or diving competition it will be one too many. I don't care how many Americans medal.

5. OK, I admit it: Mike Phelps can freakin' swim. But I STILL think that Croatian came in first, or at least tied. Whatever.
6. Speaking of swimmers, I was fascinated by the Mysterious Disappearance of Dara Torres until I read that she had "only" "snagged two silvers". Well, so much for you, Missus "Miracle on Chlorine" old bag lady swimming no-hoper! No wonder NBC stopped talking about you, you big, old, LOSER!! Why don't you take your sad little silvers and stomp home to your baby all dripping wet, you raddled harridan...?!
7. The little feature that NBC did on doping had the drug control people talking about how their fear was that the next level of cheating would be "genetic manipulation", and they said it like the swimmers would show up with gills or the cyclists with wheels instead of legs. But what I couldn't help thinking was of the teeny little gymnasts, the impossibly tall volleyballers,

8. And speaking of selective breeding AND Dara Torres, I couldn't help noticing that Ms. Torres has among the largest feet I've ever seen on a woman and I say that as a man with size 13 dogs. I mean, she's a big gal and her feet are shapely and not out of proportion, exactly.

9. For all that NBC drove me nuts with their bias (my friend L asked "This is the Olympic Games - why don't we see the discus, the javelin, any of the ancient sports?" and, just for laughs I checked: not a Yank in the top 12. Sorry, L, no Yankees? No TV.) CCTV, the official Chinese TV agency, was worse. Here's Jim Fallows from Beijing:
"...CCTV is showing instead: a ping-pong match between a Chinese player and a Swede, a diving contest involving two Chinese stars, interviews with a foreign coach of a Chinese team, and replays of week-old swimming events in which Chinese athletes did well. These are at the very instant that the men's 5000m is underway. Same thing during men's 800m. Will this apply to the men's and women's 4x400 relays?? Arggh! One world! One dream!"OK. Even NBC wasn't quite that biased...
10. For all the hype, the nationalism and the disgusting orgy of corporate remoras feeding off this thing,

I still find the idea of all these young people coming from all over to try and do their best, for whatever reasons; hope, competitive fire, greed, obsession...strangely compelling.
Who couldn't love that adorable nut, Andreas Thorkildsen, with his laurel-crown hairdo,winning the javelin? Here's a guy who's never gonna be on a cereal box, ever have his own VISA card, never be anything more than a footnote in an immense record book, a long-forgotten addendum to history in 8-point agate type.
And yet, you can hope that one day, long hence, his kids and their kids will find that gold disk and its faded ribbon in its dusty box, and race into the kitchen shouting in Norwegian.
And Grandpa Torkildsen can grin that same goofy grin he's got in his picture today and tell them of the day when all the world met in Beijing and he was young, and strong, and brave, and the world was, too.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Random thoughts on the Beijing Olympics
Both Mojo and I were commenting on the "crowds" (i.e. lack of same) along the course during both the men's and women's road races.
Outside of a smattering of apparently casual strollers all the "spectators" appeared to be the usual PRCOC-mandated levies and seat-filling "cheerleaders" (see below). After the maddened throngs packing the slopes of the Col de Tourmalet and the finishes of every stage of the Tour these deserted hills and streets looked and felt VERY strange. Is there just no fan base for cycling in a country with more bicycles than automobiles? Did the PRC discourage spectators; did they not have buses to take people out to the finishing circuits and back? Either way, we had a hard time understanding why there is no enthusiasm for the sport in a nation of cyclists.
One interesting aspect of having so many different sports and games packed into one spectacle is the display of the incredible variability of the human genome. From tiny girl gymnasts through vertiginous women vollyballers with a whole range of in-between shapes and sizes: divers, soccer players, equestrians, archers and marks-men and -women who wouldn't stand out from a crowd in their street clothes to the almost-freakishly massive weightlifters, gracile ectomorphic pole vaulters, dainty synchronized swimmers. Humans are really amazingly adaptable.
And speaking of evolutionary pressure: fencing is one bizarrely freaking mutated sport. Think of the origins of the beast; an academic approach to the art of slaughter, a scientific deconstruction of butchery. Each weapon tailored to the task: saber for the horseman, the epee for the duelist (with the foil as a practice weapon).
I was fascinated watching my homegirl Mariel Zagunis in saber - the art is almost, no, IS, unrecognizable as a fighting art. The saber was a cutting weapon; killing and injuring with a saber depended on a full cut landing on the target head, arms or torso. To successfully fight with l'arme blanche required massive arm and wrist strength as well as terrific quickness. Descriptions of Georgian, Victorian and Edwardian battlefield saber fighting talked about "whirling" blows and "smashing" cuts - clearly, a saber fighter had to be both quick and very strong above the waist.
But when Zagunis fences you immediately notice several things:
a. She has great quickness of both hand- and footwork, but she holds the saber low along her hip and strikes almost entirely with the wrist, using the arm only to gain extension. Her strikes are pure speed, she never lands more than a tiny fraction of the blade (usually just the tip), and,
b. she has delightful, massive thighs and a beautifully parabolic and powerful ass, both of which launch her driving attacks - her "leaping lunge" is a poem written in bone and muscle. Her main strength is below the waist.
And neither of these would help her if she was planning to use her skills to win a single combat on horseback with a cutting weapon.
So we see evolutionary pressure at work in sport: the eclipse of swordfighting as a means of battlefield killing has made fencing entirely academic. As such it has become minutely focused on the need to score a simple, bloodless touch on the target; a hit which in battle would barely have distracted an enemy, much less disabled or killed. Zagunis the fencer exists only because Zagunis the fighter doesn't have to.
I missed the last summer Olympics so I have no idea whether the concept of "Olympic cheerleaders" is purely a Beijing invention or not. It seems too bizarrely Western to have originated at this event; I can't see some pudgy, Mao-jacketed Party apparatchik laying down a stack of drawings of these costumed pom-pom/jazzercise/C&W/Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders in the concept meeting to explain to his revolutionary comrades the idea of the Peppy Cheerleader versus the Sexy Cheerleader.
Regardless, based on the evidence, the Chinese have taken the whole "let's draft a bunch of lissome young women and put them in skimpy costumes to gyrate for the crowd during time-outs and on the sidelines" concept to it's extreme. Whether it's the beach bunny,
the cowgirl,
the belly dancer,
the what-the-hell-kind-of-fantasy-critters-are-these,
or even Sheena, Queen of the Jungle,
the Beijing Olympic Cheerleaders have got whatever you want in male-fantasy-oriented-Olympic-cheering.
Now if we could only figure out what the hell they're cheering FOR.

Outside of a smattering of apparently casual strollers all the "spectators" appeared to be the usual PRCOC-mandated levies and seat-filling "cheerleaders" (see below). After the maddened throngs packing the slopes of the Col de Tourmalet and the finishes of every stage of the Tour these deserted hills and streets looked and felt VERY strange. Is there just no fan base for cycling in a country with more bicycles than automobiles? Did the PRC discourage spectators; did they not have buses to take people out to the finishing circuits and back? Either way, we had a hard time understanding why there is no enthusiasm for the sport in a nation of cyclists.

One interesting aspect of having so many different sports and games packed into one spectacle is the display of the incredible variability of the human genome. From tiny girl gymnasts through vertiginous women vollyballers with a whole range of in-between shapes and sizes: divers, soccer players, equestrians, archers and marks-men and -women who wouldn't stand out from a crowd in their street clothes to the almost-freakishly massive weightlifters, gracile ectomorphic pole vaulters, dainty synchronized swimmers. Humans are really amazingly adaptable.
And speaking of evolutionary pressure: fencing is one bizarrely freaking mutated sport. Think of the origins of the beast; an academic approach to the art of slaughter, a scientific deconstruction of butchery. Each weapon tailored to the task: saber for the horseman, the epee for the duelist (with the foil as a practice weapon).

But when Zagunis fences you immediately notice several things:
a. She has great quickness of both hand- and footwork, but she holds the saber low along her hip and strikes almost entirely with the wrist, using the arm only to gain extension. Her strikes are pure speed, she never lands more than a tiny fraction of the blade (usually just the tip), and,
b. she has delightful, massive thighs and a beautifully parabolic and powerful ass, both of which launch her driving attacks - her "leaping lunge" is a poem written in bone and muscle. Her main strength is below the waist.

So we see evolutionary pressure at work in sport: the eclipse of swordfighting as a means of battlefield killing has made fencing entirely academic. As such it has become minutely focused on the need to score a simple, bloodless touch on the target; a hit which in battle would barely have distracted an enemy, much less disabled or killed. Zagunis the fencer exists only because Zagunis the fighter doesn't have to.
I missed the last summer Olympics so I have no idea whether the concept of "Olympic cheerleaders" is purely a Beijing invention or not. It seems too bizarrely Western to have originated at this event; I can't see some pudgy, Mao-jacketed Party apparatchik laying down a stack of drawings of these costumed pom-pom/jazzercise/C&W/Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders in the concept meeting to explain to his revolutionary comrades the idea of the Peppy Cheerleader versus the Sexy Cheerleader.
Regardless, based on the evidence, the Chinese have taken the whole "let's draft a bunch of lissome young women and put them in skimpy costumes to gyrate for the crowd during time-outs and on the sidelines" concept to it's extreme. Whether it's the beach bunny,






Now if we could only figure out what the hell they're cheering FOR.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Return to the Silk Road: USWNT v NZ
I got up early this morning to work out and found myself riding the exercise bicycle in from of the TV. Peeper was sleeping in his high bed, and little Missy, whom I had intercepted toddling about in a cute little girl tousle of hair, blankie and stuffed friend, was snuggling with Mojo in our bed. So everybody all warm, cosy and sleepy while Daddy ground away on the exercycle watching the Women of Summer take on the All-White All Blacks.
Much as I follow the U.S. Women, I have to admit a certain contempt for and lack of interest in the Olympic women's soccer tournament. To begin, I have no idea how the IOC qualifies teams for the finals, but looking at the brackets I suspect they use one of those "Magic Eight-Ball" gadgets, y'know, the "Reply Hazy - Ask Again Later" thing you get at Spencer Gifts? Because take a look at the 12 finalists:
China - host nation, OK.
UEFA (Europe): Germany, Norway, Sweden - fair enough, the 2007 WWC champs and two other WWC finalists, although why you'd expect Sweden to be a factor when they proved in September that they are slow and porous at the back I don't know...
CONMEBOL (South America): Brazil, Argentina - Brazil pretty much a certainty, but here's the first real uh-oh. Argentina? This is the Argentina with the freaking -17 differential in Shanghai last fall? That Argentina? Are you smoking crack, IOC? WTF?
CAF (Africa): Nigeria - Well, somebody had to represent Africa, even though ex Africa semper aliquid sucky. They'll be able to provide some good, hard fouls, anyway.
CONCACAF (North and Central America): USA, Canada - USA a lock, Canada frankly because the rest of CONCACAF treats their women's soccer players like sluts in shorts. Sad, but reality.
AFC (Asia and the Middle East): North Korea, Japan (and China as host): Unexceptional except as I discuss below. Sadly, until FIFA makes everyone play in a chador the Middle Eastern women will never see a real soccer pitch.
OFC ("Oceania", the Pacific Islands, Australia and New Zealand): New Zealand. New Zealand? (Repeat in high, squeaky voice used for comment on Argentina above) So, OK, the Kiwi's -9 makes them look like Brazil against the hapless Argentines. But, sweet baby Jesus, why would you want these poor gals here?
The field is ugly and unbalanced. Three nations from Asia, probably one more than can play top-class women's soccer. There's two obvious misfits: Argentina and New Zealand, both of which have proven that they have no business playing outside of a women's recreational league. We'll throw in Canada as a makeweight, but still...this mess should really be no more than eight or nine teams, all this if-its-not-the-World-Cup-what-are-all-the-same-people-here-for-dog-and-pony show deserves.
And guess what?!? So the IOC drags the poor gals all the way back to Chinato play three games in the sweaty East Asia summer heat and...
Argentina, New Zealand, Nigeria and the DPRK ALL go home. Again. Argentina and Nigeria winless, just the cost of doing business for the Argies but at least in September the Nigerians eked out a draw. Well, I'm sure glad we got to see all THAT again and for what I don't know. The Kiwis sure must feel that draw against Japan made it all worthwhile.
So excuse me if "Olympic gold" doesn't send me rushing to buy Telemundo so I can see these games. See ya in 2011, gals.
So what about the US women and New Zealand? I hear you whine. Alright, already...
Ugly. Ugly offensively and defensively. Ugly going up and going down; ugly to all fields. Fuckin' ugly. Ugly fouls. Ugly play; long minutes of both squads playing what a former Scots teammate of mine used to call "wee headies". Ugly goals, mostly, especially the U.S. third, the result of a brutal goalkeeping error. Final score 4-nil and flattering to the Kiwis, since the U.S. women looked hasty and sloppy, firing wide and over the bar, looking out of sync and lacking almost all midfield play, just a lot of hoof and hope.
I'm not sure about this USWNT. A couple of games this spring made me hopeful that the whole Greg Ryan who-cares-if-we-have-a-midfield-let's-just-hoof-it-up-and-let-Abby-Wambach-knock-it-in game plan was deader than a Georgian reservist outside of Gori. But I have to say, this squad doesn't make me confident that they could take on a full Germany side. Or Brazil, when Brazil is playing together and not hacking and blinding as they often do. They looked crap in their first game against Norway. I think the U.S. is lucky that they are on the "right" side of the knockout draw. They should get past Canada and China to make the finals. But if they meet Germany there...mmmm...
Still: good luck to the U.S. gals. Get some, Yanks!

China - host nation, OK.
UEFA (Europe): Germany, Norway, Sweden - fair enough, the 2007 WWC champs and two other WWC finalists, although why you'd expect Sweden to be a factor when they proved in September that they are slow and porous at the back I don't know...
CONMEBOL (South America): Brazil, Argentina - Brazil pretty much a certainty, but here's the first real uh-oh. Argentina? This is the Argentina with the freaking -17 differential in Shanghai last fall? That Argentina? Are you smoking crack, IOC? WTF?
CAF (Africa): Nigeria - Well, somebody had to represent Africa, even though ex Africa semper aliquid sucky. They'll be able to provide some good, hard fouls, anyway.
CONCACAF (North and Central America): USA, Canada - USA a lock, Canada frankly because the rest of CONCACAF treats their women's soccer players like sluts in shorts. Sad, but reality.
AFC (Asia and the Middle East): North Korea, Japan (and China as host): Unexceptional except as I discuss below. Sadly, until FIFA makes everyone play in a chador the Middle Eastern women will never see a real soccer pitch.
OFC ("Oceania", the Pacific Islands, Australia and New Zealand): New Zealand. New Zealand? (Repeat in high, squeaky voice used for comment on Argentina above) So, OK, the Kiwi's -9 makes them look like Brazil against the hapless Argentines. But, sweet baby Jesus, why would you want these poor gals here?

And guess what?!? So the IOC drags the poor gals all the way back to Chinato play three games in the sweaty East Asia summer heat and...
Argentina, New Zealand, Nigeria and the DPRK ALL go home. Again. Argentina and Nigeria winless, just the cost of doing business for the Argies but at least in September the Nigerians eked out a draw. Well, I'm sure glad we got to see all THAT again and for what I don't know. The Kiwis sure must feel that draw against Japan made it all worthwhile.
So excuse me if "Olympic gold" doesn't send me rushing to buy Telemundo so I can see these games. See ya in 2011, gals.
So what about the US women and New Zealand? I hear you whine. Alright, already...
Ugly. Ugly offensively and defensively. Ugly going up and going down; ugly to all fields. Fuckin' ugly. Ugly fouls. Ugly play; long minutes of both squads playing what a former Scots teammate of mine used to call "wee headies". Ugly goals, mostly, especially the U.S. third, the result of a brutal goalkeeping error. Final score 4-nil and flattering to the Kiwis, since the U.S. women looked hasty and sloppy, firing wide and over the bar, looking out of sync and lacking almost all midfield play, just a lot of hoof and hope.

Still: good luck to the U.S. gals. Get some, Yanks!
Monday, August 11, 2008
Citius, Altius, Fortius
Random thoughts from watching the first weekend of the Beijing Summer Olympics:
1. The quality of superbowl halftime shows will really go up when this country becomes an official one-party state.
Nothing like being a ruthless dictatorship to be able to mobilize several million people to put on what is fundamentally a silly spectacle. But the Chinese get fireworks in a way those of us in the West are still working on.
2. Hint to NBC: not everything is about us. It's OK to show and tell us about people from other countries. That might just be what this whole "Olympic" thing is about.
3. Hungary, the person who told you that the "Heavy Flow Day" pattern from J.C. Penney's "My Menstrual Period" collection was the hottest thing in fashion today was kidding.
Sweden, on the other hand...wow! You rock. So it's not just IKEA and the Nobel Prize for you, eh?
4. Was anyone else embarrassed by the shots of Dubya looking bored and glancing at his watch during the other nation's teams entrances and only putting on his jacket and public face when the U.S. team entered?
I mean, Sarkozy and Putin and the other heads of state managed to at least pretend to be interested AND keep their jackets on in the heat. Oh, and NBC? Another thing: when a President's approval ratings are below 30%, it probably means that about three quarters of us don't want you to keep cutting back to show him to us every other freaking minute. Show us Malian shotputters or something, Jesus...
Nice summation of a man who probably didn't know there WAS a country named Mali until the Chinese woman entered carrying the little sign...
5. Water polo is God's own most boring sport to watch.
6. Some Olympic sports should still be played nude as the ancient tradition demanded.
Swimming and men's gymnastics are two. Yachting and weightlifting are not. Soccer should be. Cycling probably shouldn't, just for the bicycle seat issues. Women's gymnastics is not, either, at least not until the age of the athletes climbs past the age of consent in, say, Utah.
7. Why is "beach volleyball" an Olympic sport? Is it that the rules require the athletes to wear bikinis (see #6)? And, if we have to include it, shouldn't the rules also require the losers of a point to slam a beer? I mean, it's fucking beach volleyball and it's played in fucking bikinis...
8. Weird to see the same guys we just saw in the Tour de France riding for their countries. I'm old enough to find pro athletes as Olympians a little uneasy.
9. Are we weird in finding this quadrennial sports oddity interesting?
Regardless...have a happy Monday and a good week.
1. The quality of superbowl halftime shows will really go up when this country becomes an official one-party state.

2. Hint to NBC: not everything is about us. It's OK to show and tell us about people from other countries. That might just be what this whole "Olympic" thing is about.
3. Hungary, the person who told you that the "Heavy Flow Day" pattern from J.C. Penney's "My Menstrual Period" collection was the hottest thing in fashion today was kidding.


4. Was anyone else embarrassed by the shots of Dubya looking bored and glancing at his watch during the other nation's teams entrances and only putting on his jacket and public face when the U.S. team entered?
I mean, Sarkozy and Putin and the other heads of state managed to at least pretend to be interested AND keep their jackets on in the heat. Oh, and NBC? Another thing: when a President's approval ratings are below 30%, it probably means that about three quarters of us don't want you to keep cutting back to show him to us every other freaking minute. Show us Malian shotputters or something, Jesus...

5. Water polo is God's own most boring sport to watch.
6. Some Olympic sports should still be played nude as the ancient tradition demanded.

7. Why is "beach volleyball" an Olympic sport? Is it that the rules require the athletes to wear bikinis (see #6)? And, if we have to include it, shouldn't the rules also require the losers of a point to slam a beer? I mean, it's fucking beach volleyball and it's played in fucking bikinis...
8. Weird to see the same guys we just saw in the Tour de France riding for their countries. I'm old enough to find pro athletes as Olympians a little uneasy.
9. Are we weird in finding this quadrennial sports oddity interesting?
Regardless...have a happy Monday and a good week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)