Just a quick note to say that I have officially turned off all following of cycling. This is not to say that I am one of the thousands throwing themselves from the bandwagon. I still appreciate the true sport, but I simply cannot bring myself to avidly follow when so much vitriol is spewn on a daily, even hourly, basis. For once and for all, to everyone out there who feels like Santa Claus was just murdered in front of their faces, get over it. The world is a big place, and we are merely minor players in it. Amazingly enough, most of us will wake up tomorrow, and the day after. We have to live our lives, and not be consumed by the petty hatred that seeps from the sports world right now.
My personal thoughts and prayers with the victims and all those affected by Hurricane Sandy. Here is to a speedy recovery, and hopefully only a short time off the bike, so to speak.
BlytheLea
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
Devil in Skates
It is official: Hell has frozen over.
Different people have different definitions of this rather common phrase. Something like, the Cougars will win the Rose Bowl when hell freezes over (one of my favorite jokes is about that), or I'll go on a date with you when hell freezes over. For me, well, the official mark of this phase of the apocalypse is that I am currently watching baseball. Baseball.
Here at BlytheLea, we tend to prefer more random sports. The ones that no one else watches. Like hockey (oh, wait, that's because there is no season) or cycling or dressage. The ones that are rarely even televised. Now, however, I am watching the Giants smoke the Cardinals for a berth in the World Series, and the longer I watch, the more I am liking it.
This happened to a slightly lesser degree last year. My dad is fan, and I ended up watching the World Series last year. Is there a special word for the finals? I mean, the Stanley Cup Playoffs become the Stanley Cup Finals. I honestly don't know.
(On an off note, they just showed a clip of the Braves beating the Pirates in '92. Please, sports casters, we Pittsburgh fans have a hard enough time accepting the perennial losses, do you really have to show us when we were good and losing? I am a Pittsburgh everything fan, I just tend never to watch the college football games or baseball, though I have been to the parking lot of PNC Park. Short of the Mariners, that's the most I can say about any major league baseball team. Crazy thing is I actually liked the Tri-Cities Posse/Dust Devil games I went to. Most sports I prefer in their professional form, especially football, but not baseball. Odd that.)
So here I am, a quiet evening with no cable (translation, no Monday Night Football) and my alternative is the Presidential Debate. I hate politics. That rules out every other channel. And the worst part is, I'm actually enjoying this game. I think I'd prefer it a bit more if the game was close, but then, maybe not. As it stands, a rare tip of the chapeau to baseball all over the world tonight, and now I'm going to go bundle up. Funny how it's suddenly so cold.
BlytheLea L.E.
Different people have different definitions of this rather common phrase. Something like, the Cougars will win the Rose Bowl when hell freezes over (one of my favorite jokes is about that), or I'll go on a date with you when hell freezes over. For me, well, the official mark of this phase of the apocalypse is that I am currently watching baseball. Baseball.
Here at BlytheLea, we tend to prefer more random sports. The ones that no one else watches. Like hockey (oh, wait, that's because there is no season) or cycling or dressage. The ones that are rarely even televised. Now, however, I am watching the Giants smoke the Cardinals for a berth in the World Series, and the longer I watch, the more I am liking it.
This happened to a slightly lesser degree last year. My dad is fan, and I ended up watching the World Series last year. Is there a special word for the finals? I mean, the Stanley Cup Playoffs become the Stanley Cup Finals. I honestly don't know.
(On an off note, they just showed a clip of the Braves beating the Pirates in '92. Please, sports casters, we Pittsburgh fans have a hard enough time accepting the perennial losses, do you really have to show us when we were good and losing? I am a Pittsburgh everything fan, I just tend never to watch the college football games or baseball, though I have been to the parking lot of PNC Park. Short of the Mariners, that's the most I can say about any major league baseball team. Crazy thing is I actually liked the Tri-Cities Posse/Dust Devil games I went to. Most sports I prefer in their professional form, especially football, but not baseball. Odd that.)
So here I am, a quiet evening with no cable (translation, no Monday Night Football) and my alternative is the Presidential Debate. I hate politics. That rules out every other channel. And the worst part is, I'm actually enjoying this game. I think I'd prefer it a bit more if the game was close, but then, maybe not. As it stands, a rare tip of the chapeau to baseball all over the world tonight, and now I'm going to go bundle up. Funny how it's suddenly so cold.
BlytheLea L.E.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Hole In My Head
I thought about this particularly Dixie Chicks tune to describe my self enforced diet, but I'm making progress there, so I'll use it to rant, quickly, I promise, about the state of hockey.
I read another blog today that called Gary Bettman the serial killer of hockey. As creepy as that sounds, oh how accurate. The delayed news now is how we will be missing the sport at least until the 1st of November, to which I really wanted to say, no really? Color me surprised.
Ach, the bitterness is spreading. I can't think about hockey without getting riled up. I just want to scream at both sides. Like I said last time, THERE IS NO MORAL HIGH GROUND ANYMORE!!! Hmm, expected that to be a bit more therapeutic than it turned out being. Let's be honest, I thought this whole blogging thing would be more therapeutic than it has been. I've come to accept that I just get riled up about sports, but, more particularly the politics of sports. My mom is a political wonk. She loves it, and watches it, and reads it. It drives me up a wall. But here I am, having to watch as my favorite spectator sport ever is embroiled in the same b.s. It hurts, and being driven up a wall isn't the half of it. I turn the T.V. off, but my phone is another matter.
I have taken to following Mettalrug Magnitogorsk. I admit, Evgeni Malkin is probably my favorite player to watch. I love every player who dons a Pens jersey, but Geno has that rare natural talent without even trying. Still, I'm now reduced to Russian YouTube clips, and translating a site from Russian can be a bit tricky. I don't speak enough to do it easily, but I refuse to crack and use Google Translate. After all, every roadblock is just an opportunity in disguise, right? Well, the lock out has turned into an opportunity to broaden my understanding of Russian. I've already learned the words for goal, miss, and save. Let's see if I can get those penalties figured out next. It seems we hockey fans are going to be having some time on our hands.
BlytheLea L.E.
(If I were a more violent minded person, I'd be calling for a lynching right about now. Please, no one take that seriously. Very little of what I ever say is meant to be taken seriously. And why is it we all have to have disclaimers attached to everything? Seriously, it worries me.)
I read another blog today that called Gary Bettman the serial killer of hockey. As creepy as that sounds, oh how accurate. The delayed news now is how we will be missing the sport at least until the 1st of November, to which I really wanted to say, no really? Color me surprised.
Ach, the bitterness is spreading. I can't think about hockey without getting riled up. I just want to scream at both sides. Like I said last time, THERE IS NO MORAL HIGH GROUND ANYMORE!!! Hmm, expected that to be a bit more therapeutic than it turned out being. Let's be honest, I thought this whole blogging thing would be more therapeutic than it has been. I've come to accept that I just get riled up about sports, but, more particularly the politics of sports. My mom is a political wonk. She loves it, and watches it, and reads it. It drives me up a wall. But here I am, having to watch as my favorite spectator sport ever is embroiled in the same b.s. It hurts, and being driven up a wall isn't the half of it. I turn the T.V. off, but my phone is another matter.
I have taken to following Mettalrug Magnitogorsk. I admit, Evgeni Malkin is probably my favorite player to watch. I love every player who dons a Pens jersey, but Geno has that rare natural talent without even trying. Still, I'm now reduced to Russian YouTube clips, and translating a site from Russian can be a bit tricky. I don't speak enough to do it easily, but I refuse to crack and use Google Translate. After all, every roadblock is just an opportunity in disguise, right? Well, the lock out has turned into an opportunity to broaden my understanding of Russian. I've already learned the words for goal, miss, and save. Let's see if I can get those penalties figured out next. It seems we hockey fans are going to be having some time on our hands.
BlytheLea L.E.
(If I were a more violent minded person, I'd be calling for a lynching right about now. Please, no one take that seriously. Very little of what I ever say is meant to be taken seriously. And why is it we all have to have disclaimers attached to everything? Seriously, it worries me.)
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Hello Mr. Heartache
So I'm ahead of the curve for a change. What a weird sensation. Anyway, I won't go on long for this one, but it has been eating at me all evening. (Plus, I had the perfect Dixie Chicks song to start this with, and I was afraid I'd forget by tomorrow.)
Once, there was hope. Not two days ago, now my heart is feeling the dull ache of disappointment My optimistic thoughts have plummeted to the ground, leaving me bruised and sore. Am I exaggerating? Obviously. Still, any hockey fan has got to be feeling the same right about now. (Ha ha, and here you were probably wondering what the hell I was talking about. Sorry, heck.)
The idea of a deal was barely a glimmer in the commissioner's eye when it was shot down. To be fair, I freely admit I don't really comprehend the intricacies of this negotiation. I could read all the lawyer speak until the sun came up and still be lost, confused, and frustrated. So, lost and confused though I am, I have to admit to having my hopes crushed by the commissioner's response to the union's response. I worked at a certain delivery company for four years, three of those years straddling the line between union and management. Believe me, I know it is no walk in the park, but still, there is common ground if the stubborn asses would just look for it. (Wow, I am being horribly rude in my wordings today. My apologies to my inadvertent audience. I guess at this point, I just can't find it in me to play nice anymore.) No one is going to win. Both sides will lose. Win-win situations are just a way to soothe the bruised egos of everyone involved because, truthfully, we all know they lost something. My suggestion to the hockey world? Accept this, live with it, sign a freaking deal (ha, a bit of restraint there), and then go back, lick your wounds, and start the season. Is that really so difficult? Oh, wait, I forgot, I'm talking about a bunch of men who all think they're right. No one is! No one. We are all wrong somewhere, sometime, and there is no longer a moral high ground here. That was lost by both sides when the fans suffered. They claim there thinking of us, but lets be honest. It is simply business. Well, Gary Bettman's business plan so far has sucked. Three lockouts? Really? Who wins there? No one. Back to my point, accept the loss, move on, and please, for the love of whoever you hold highest, just let the season begin.
The first sign of loss is denial. Been there, done that. I guess depression was learning that the two sides basically told each other to go, okay, I'll edit this, "attach themselves to another object by an inclined plane, wrapped helically around an axis" (Ah, thank you Big Bang Theory. I just found you but I think this might be love. With no hockey, I am available in the evenings.) themselves today. Now, I have anger. I fear my acceptance I think that might have been what led to my apathy towards football. What if I am not alone? Can hockey really afford to continue to ostracize us? Are there enough left when all is said and done? Do they really want to find out? Just sign a deal. Please. I beg you.
Oh well, I guess hope just reared it's shiny face again. Maybe I haven't given up, but the added revenue they are fighting over is diminishing the longer this drags out. Common sense, boys, can be hard to accept, but it doesn't lie. Maybe we can all think about that. Maybe not. Whatever, I've tried my hand. Let's see theirs.
BlytheLea L.E.
P.S. I lied. This rant went far longer than I thought it would. Maybe I have issues. You think? but be kind, all the same.
Once, there was hope. Not two days ago, now my heart is feeling the dull ache of disappointment My optimistic thoughts have plummeted to the ground, leaving me bruised and sore. Am I exaggerating? Obviously. Still, any hockey fan has got to be feeling the same right about now. (Ha ha, and here you were probably wondering what the hell I was talking about. Sorry, heck.)
The idea of a deal was barely a glimmer in the commissioner's eye when it was shot down. To be fair, I freely admit I don't really comprehend the intricacies of this negotiation. I could read all the lawyer speak until the sun came up and still be lost, confused, and frustrated. So, lost and confused though I am, I have to admit to having my hopes crushed by the commissioner's response to the union's response. I worked at a certain delivery company for four years, three of those years straddling the line between union and management. Believe me, I know it is no walk in the park, but still, there is common ground if the stubborn asses would just look for it. (Wow, I am being horribly rude in my wordings today. My apologies to my inadvertent audience. I guess at this point, I just can't find it in me to play nice anymore.) No one is going to win. Both sides will lose. Win-win situations are just a way to soothe the bruised egos of everyone involved because, truthfully, we all know they lost something. My suggestion to the hockey world? Accept this, live with it, sign a freaking deal (ha, a bit of restraint there), and then go back, lick your wounds, and start the season. Is that really so difficult? Oh, wait, I forgot, I'm talking about a bunch of men who all think they're right. No one is! No one. We are all wrong somewhere, sometime, and there is no longer a moral high ground here. That was lost by both sides when the fans suffered. They claim there thinking of us, but lets be honest. It is simply business. Well, Gary Bettman's business plan so far has sucked. Three lockouts? Really? Who wins there? No one. Back to my point, accept the loss, move on, and please, for the love of whoever you hold highest, just let the season begin.
The first sign of loss is denial. Been there, done that. I guess depression was learning that the two sides basically told each other to go, okay, I'll edit this, "attach themselves to another object by an inclined plane, wrapped helically around an axis" (Ah, thank you Big Bang Theory. I just found you but I think this might be love. With no hockey, I am available in the evenings.) themselves today. Now, I have anger. I fear my acceptance I think that might have been what led to my apathy towards football. What if I am not alone? Can hockey really afford to continue to ostracize us? Are there enough left when all is said and done? Do they really want to find out? Just sign a deal. Please. I beg you.
Oh well, I guess hope just reared it's shiny face again. Maybe I haven't given up, but the added revenue they are fighting over is diminishing the longer this drags out. Common sense, boys, can be hard to accept, but it doesn't lie. Maybe we can all think about that. Maybe not. Whatever, I've tried my hand. Let's see theirs.
BlytheLea L.E.
P.S. I lied. This rant went far longer than I thought it would. Maybe I have issues. You think? but be kind, all the same.
If I Fall
I'll admit, I seem to have a Dixie Chicks theme going on this week. I think I'll see if I can keep it going for a week straight. Why? Does "because I can" work as an excuse?
Much has been said and documented lately in regards to Lance Armstrong. There is no opinion I can have without inciting fervent rebuttals. What I will say about the case itself is that in a country where we wrote into our founding document that a man was innocent until proven guilty, we seem determined to go with the British approach of guilty until proven innocent. Does no one else see the irony? That is all I will say about the doping allegations, the thousand pages of USADA documents, and the response (though currently lack of) by the UCI. My opinion is my own, and for this once, I will keep my own council.
What bothers me about this story is not everything mentioned above, but that some who were once die hard supporters, now not only abandon the man but the organization he came to stand for. If Barry Bonds started a children's hospital for leukemia patients, would we all refuse to help? Has the city of New Orleans banned Deuce McAllister or Will Smith for their suspensions? No. Every person is simply human. Gods do not walk the earth (Various religions are simply waiting for one to come back and do so.). If we fail and falter, we try to pick ourselves up, but sometimes we need a helping hand. Why do we throw stones at glasses houses? (I think that's in a Dixie Chick song too, it's also in the Bible.) So while we rail on against what might or might not have happened, we forget what still remains, and what needs us the most.
My grandmother died of cancer. My grandfather beat it. My family supports LiveStrong and we always will. I am more disgusted by those fans who have turned away from the organization than I am about what lies at the heart of the documents. We are fickle creatures, and this simply goes to show that even when there is a fight worth fighting for, we let our tender feelings rise up and strangle the hope of something better. No matter what you think of the man behind the organization, there was no one else like him, for better or worse. How many athletes found organizations that reach millions? Go on, I'll give you a day to get back to me on that one. The opinions of many are blocking out the actions of a few. To quote a Disney movie, "It doesn't matter, it's in the past." Whether you agree with me or not, stop the vitriol to an organization that helps families like mine every day. It belittles you far more than any amount of doping could belittle an athlete. We are better than this.
BlytheLea L.E.
Much has been said and documented lately in regards to Lance Armstrong. There is no opinion I can have without inciting fervent rebuttals. What I will say about the case itself is that in a country where we wrote into our founding document that a man was innocent until proven guilty, we seem determined to go with the British approach of guilty until proven innocent. Does no one else see the irony? That is all I will say about the doping allegations, the thousand pages of USADA documents, and the response (though currently lack of) by the UCI. My opinion is my own, and for this once, I will keep my own council.
What bothers me about this story is not everything mentioned above, but that some who were once die hard supporters, now not only abandon the man but the organization he came to stand for. If Barry Bonds started a children's hospital for leukemia patients, would we all refuse to help? Has the city of New Orleans banned Deuce McAllister or Will Smith for their suspensions? No. Every person is simply human. Gods do not walk the earth (Various religions are simply waiting for one to come back and do so.). If we fail and falter, we try to pick ourselves up, but sometimes we need a helping hand. Why do we throw stones at glasses houses? (I think that's in a Dixie Chick song too, it's also in the Bible.) So while we rail on against what might or might not have happened, we forget what still remains, and what needs us the most.
My grandmother died of cancer. My grandfather beat it. My family supports LiveStrong and we always will. I am more disgusted by those fans who have turned away from the organization than I am about what lies at the heart of the documents. We are fickle creatures, and this simply goes to show that even when there is a fight worth fighting for, we let our tender feelings rise up and strangle the hope of something better. No matter what you think of the man behind the organization, there was no one else like him, for better or worse. How many athletes found organizations that reach millions? Go on, I'll give you a day to get back to me on that one. The opinions of many are blocking out the actions of a few. To quote a Disney movie, "It doesn't matter, it's in the past." Whether you agree with me or not, stop the vitriol to an organization that helps families like mine every day. It belittles you far more than any amount of doping could belittle an athlete. We are better than this.
BlytheLea L.E.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Here's Hope
Okay, let me start this out as honestly as possible. I like to blog when I have an opinion that no one in my family shares or cares to hear. As such, with no hockey, a lack of interest (still) in football, and a sort of depression when it comes to cycling, there hasn't been much to say. Well, now there's hope.
I, like many, was completely caught off guard by yesterday's news that the NHL had come to the table with a new (much more reasonable) offer. They also finally learned a lesson or two from the NHLPA. Rather than simply say they had offered, it was the union's turn, blah blah, and simply leave it to the jaded public to be pulled around by our collective ear, they let slip one important detail: the deal had an offer of a 50/50 revenue split. That is huge progress considering that a.) the union currently holds a 53/47 hold and b.) the best the owners had countered with was the reverse: a 47/53 split. Honestly, what fool sits there and thinks to themselves, sure, I'd love a 6% loss of all revenues. Sign me up for that one? As an underemployed person in this economy, I might be tempted to take such a job, but not to return to what I did (which I did not love) and with no real improvements in, well, anything. It would be like if I went back to the company I left (think certain colored delivery vehicles) and they offered me less than I had been making, they cut my benefits (wait, this is starting to sound familiar) and any chance of a bonus. Then, to cap it all off, I find out that the upper echelons of management all got huge raises. I'm talking new car elevator type raises. Would I like that offer? Hell, no. (To be fair to my former employer, I left when I moved, not because I was downsized. But, on the other hand, learning my Christmas bonus was cut while full time supervisors' were not, well, that still rankles. This also has little to nothing to do with hockey. Sorry.) And, of course, there are the sticking points hidden after the stroke of genius that lead to the led out headline of an offer for a 50/50 split. Rookies, Unrestricted Free Agents, Mega Contracts. All hidden in the details. (Isn't that where they say the devil is?)
And so here I am, waiting. I'll admit, I methodically checked my phone every hour yesterday until finally breaking down and accepting that a change was not immediately going to happen. My sense of hope jumped out of me and screamed for a result, but logic prevailed. (I have, of course, already checked for an update this morning.) Hope is funny thing. It keeps us coming back even when the last three hundred and forty two times have yielded nada. It keeps us coming back when time three hundred and forty three only hints at a better outcome. I love the sport of hockey. For some crazy reason, I have not pushed it aside with bitterness and betrayal as I did with football, and seem to be doing with cycling. (Hey, in my defense, that season is basically over. Still, might be watching the Tour next year with the mute button on. Damn television keeps adding subtitles though. Is it too much to ask for just the sport, and no opinions other than my own?) As love has not turned to hate, or, even worse, disinterest, hope still springs up eternally every day. I had taken to giving up, letting my Twitter feed tell me if there was something, but refusing to go looking otherwise. Now, I'll be checking on an every other hour basis. If there's still nothing today, maybe I'll scale that back to every third hour on Thursday. Where does this lead? To the same nearly apathetic, ever so slightly depressed cave I was hiding in? Or a renewed sense of eagerness? Do I keep checking? Hmm, well, let's see if the three hundred and forty fourth time is the charm.
BlytheLea L.E.
I, like many, was completely caught off guard by yesterday's news that the NHL had come to the table with a new (much more reasonable) offer. They also finally learned a lesson or two from the NHLPA. Rather than simply say they had offered, it was the union's turn, blah blah, and simply leave it to the jaded public to be pulled around by our collective ear, they let slip one important detail: the deal had an offer of a 50/50 revenue split. That is huge progress considering that a.) the union currently holds a 53/47 hold and b.) the best the owners had countered with was the reverse: a 47/53 split. Honestly, what fool sits there and thinks to themselves, sure, I'd love a 6% loss of all revenues. Sign me up for that one? As an underemployed person in this economy, I might be tempted to take such a job, but not to return to what I did (which I did not love) and with no real improvements in, well, anything. It would be like if I went back to the company I left (think certain colored delivery vehicles) and they offered me less than I had been making, they cut my benefits (wait, this is starting to sound familiar) and any chance of a bonus. Then, to cap it all off, I find out that the upper echelons of management all got huge raises. I'm talking new car elevator type raises. Would I like that offer? Hell, no. (To be fair to my former employer, I left when I moved, not because I was downsized. But, on the other hand, learning my Christmas bonus was cut while full time supervisors' were not, well, that still rankles. This also has little to nothing to do with hockey. Sorry.) And, of course, there are the sticking points hidden after the stroke of genius that lead to the led out headline of an offer for a 50/50 split. Rookies, Unrestricted Free Agents, Mega Contracts. All hidden in the details. (Isn't that where they say the devil is?)
And so here I am, waiting. I'll admit, I methodically checked my phone every hour yesterday until finally breaking down and accepting that a change was not immediately going to happen. My sense of hope jumped out of me and screamed for a result, but logic prevailed. (I have, of course, already checked for an update this morning.) Hope is funny thing. It keeps us coming back even when the last three hundred and forty two times have yielded nada. It keeps us coming back when time three hundred and forty three only hints at a better outcome. I love the sport of hockey. For some crazy reason, I have not pushed it aside with bitterness and betrayal as I did with football, and seem to be doing with cycling. (Hey, in my defense, that season is basically over. Still, might be watching the Tour next year with the mute button on. Damn television keeps adding subtitles though. Is it too much to ask for just the sport, and no opinions other than my own?) As love has not turned to hate, or, even worse, disinterest, hope still springs up eternally every day. I had taken to giving up, letting my Twitter feed tell me if there was something, but refusing to go looking otherwise. Now, I'll be checking on an every other hour basis. If there's still nothing today, maybe I'll scale that back to every third hour on Thursday. Where does this lead? To the same nearly apathetic, ever so slightly depressed cave I was hiding in? Or a renewed sense of eagerness? Do I keep checking? Hmm, well, let's see if the three hundred and forty fourth time is the charm.
BlytheLea L.E.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Magic Chrystal Ball
I will never claim to be psychic. I cannot see into the future, but it doesn't require a clairvoyant to see that the NHL will start its fourth lockout in a matter of hours. I have to admit, this is a bit depressing. I love the sport of hockey. I might have come late in life to this deep, heartfelt appreciation, but it is with me now. I take the first Pens game of the season off from work. I rearranged my schedule to watch the Kings win the Stanley Cup. I buy temporary tattoos to wear when I'm really in need of a pick me up. There is no reasoning with it, it is love, plain and simple, and that love is about to be tested.
Among other things that I love with the same sort of passion: the New Orleans Saints, equestrian sports, and the Tour de France. I'll admit to being able to branch out when it comes to equestrian. I am a primarily English rider who specializes in dressage, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate pole bending. Heck, I took my 16.3 Thoroughbred mare to a gaming show and we placed in everything except key hole, where she dumped me in living terror of just what might be hiding in the middle of those poles. As for cycling, despite the doping scandals that continue to rock it, I haven't given up hope. I still love watching the sheer grit that is required to make it through. I admire the talent of a mountain climber, and the heart of a domestique. I have taken to following the sport on a broader stage for the simple reason of lockouts.
When the NFL went into a lockout last year, I couldn't quite accept it. Then I went to Europe for two months and became fascinated by more than my narrow little world. It wasn't until September arrived that I began to feel the depression start to sink in. True, the lockout was ended before the season really began (preseason will forever be epitomized for me by that NFL network commercial: "I don't care that it's preseason, the Raiders are 4-0!" "Yeah Raiders!") but it still left a sour taste in my mouth. Add that on to the fact that the team of my football loving heart lost to the 49ers, with me screaming for two straight minutes: "Defense, don't give up the big play over the center!" to no avail. Then there was the Super Bowl. NY Giants fan I will never, ever be and as my dad is a Pats fan, so, too, am I. As if things couldn't get any worse, the Saints had Bountygate fall on their heads in the midst of playing some craven game of chicken with the heart and soul of their team, my favorite player in the sport: Drew Brees. The season kicked off last week. I missed the game. I even missed the Saints lose to the freaking Washington Redskins. Monday night, I was working and had no desire to rearrange my schedule for either game. This Thursday, it came as a surprise that there was a game at all. This Sunday? Who knows, but the passion is all but gone.
And so this is where I sit with hockey. If they push this bunch of horseradish (love this new phrase I found yesterday. Sorry to whoever coined it, I don't remember where I read it) on into the season, I'm afraid my love and devotion will be tested. I am genuinely concerned I will come away as jaded and apathetic as I am about football. I hope it isn't so, but that doesn't stop the fear, and the only way to keep the fear from being a reality? To have a season, and quickly.
BlytheLea
Among other things that I love with the same sort of passion: the New Orleans Saints, equestrian sports, and the Tour de France. I'll admit to being able to branch out when it comes to equestrian. I am a primarily English rider who specializes in dressage, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate pole bending. Heck, I took my 16.3 Thoroughbred mare to a gaming show and we placed in everything except key hole, where she dumped me in living terror of just what might be hiding in the middle of those poles. As for cycling, despite the doping scandals that continue to rock it, I haven't given up hope. I still love watching the sheer grit that is required to make it through. I admire the talent of a mountain climber, and the heart of a domestique. I have taken to following the sport on a broader stage for the simple reason of lockouts.
When the NFL went into a lockout last year, I couldn't quite accept it. Then I went to Europe for two months and became fascinated by more than my narrow little world. It wasn't until September arrived that I began to feel the depression start to sink in. True, the lockout was ended before the season really began (preseason will forever be epitomized for me by that NFL network commercial: "I don't care that it's preseason, the Raiders are 4-0!" "Yeah Raiders!") but it still left a sour taste in my mouth. Add that on to the fact that the team of my football loving heart lost to the 49ers, with me screaming for two straight minutes: "Defense, don't give up the big play over the center!" to no avail. Then there was the Super Bowl. NY Giants fan I will never, ever be and as my dad is a Pats fan, so, too, am I. As if things couldn't get any worse, the Saints had Bountygate fall on their heads in the midst of playing some craven game of chicken with the heart and soul of their team, my favorite player in the sport: Drew Brees. The season kicked off last week. I missed the game. I even missed the Saints lose to the freaking Washington Redskins. Monday night, I was working and had no desire to rearrange my schedule for either game. This Thursday, it came as a surprise that there was a game at all. This Sunday? Who knows, but the passion is all but gone.
And so this is where I sit with hockey. If they push this bunch of horseradish (love this new phrase I found yesterday. Sorry to whoever coined it, I don't remember where I read it) on into the season, I'm afraid my love and devotion will be tested. I am genuinely concerned I will come away as jaded and apathetic as I am about football. I hope it isn't so, but that doesn't stop the fear, and the only way to keep the fear from being a reality? To have a season, and quickly.
BlytheLea
Thursday, September 6, 2012
The Elephant in the Room
The elephant in the room rides a bicycle.
Okay, so I admit to some naivety when it comes to sports. I firmly believe in Innocent Until Proven Guilty. Books based on here say or testimonials to athletes caught lying just don't could for real, beyond a reasonable doubt, proof. So call me a child, left in my imaginary world, or call me any of the names being thrown about in the internet right about now. Until I see the proof, I will continue to view Lance Armstrong as a great athlete who has done truly remarkable things with his life and his fame. My family has seen two members suffer through cancer. One survived, the other did not. We still believe in the message of LiveStrong, and we always will. End of discussion.
In regards to the sporting world in general, PEDs are something that athletes will continue to abuse. So long as we demand they be better than we are, they will seek to be just that, even when their bodies can no longer answer the call. No sport is immune. The scandals of baseball are well documented, so, too, cycling. Football has its fair share of finger pointing and suspensions. Besides Bountygate, New Orleans was hit by the diuretic outbreak in the form of half the starting defensive line. And then there was that here say article in Sports Illustrated about a dangerous doctor and his connection to the Washington Capitals. No sport is safe. No athlete is safe, but so long as we refuse to admit any sort of human weakness in our athletes, they will strive to cheat the system. It has become a way of life. There might be those out there clamoring for everyone to "come clean", but that will no more happen than these sudden turnabouts are merely conscience driven. I may be naive, but I am not stupid, and neither is the general population.
So, what then becomes the solution? We need to accept weakness. We need to learn to accept failure. No one can be perfect day in and day out. Get used to it. So the mountains of the Tour de France made Alberto Contador bonk. There will be another day for him without his beef. So 82 games in a season is brutal. There comes a point when the fourth line becomes invaluable to a hockey team. And a loss is not the end of the world. Learn to accept failure, take it with the success, and maybe, just maybe, we will start to see cleaner sports.
BlytheLea L.E.
Okay, so I admit to some naivety when it comes to sports. I firmly believe in Innocent Until Proven Guilty. Books based on here say or testimonials to athletes caught lying just don't could for real, beyond a reasonable doubt, proof. So call me a child, left in my imaginary world, or call me any of the names being thrown about in the internet right about now. Until I see the proof, I will continue to view Lance Armstrong as a great athlete who has done truly remarkable things with his life and his fame. My family has seen two members suffer through cancer. One survived, the other did not. We still believe in the message of LiveStrong, and we always will. End of discussion.
In regards to the sporting world in general, PEDs are something that athletes will continue to abuse. So long as we demand they be better than we are, they will seek to be just that, even when their bodies can no longer answer the call. No sport is immune. The scandals of baseball are well documented, so, too, cycling. Football has its fair share of finger pointing and suspensions. Besides Bountygate, New Orleans was hit by the diuretic outbreak in the form of half the starting defensive line. And then there was that here say article in Sports Illustrated about a dangerous doctor and his connection to the Washington Capitals. No sport is safe. No athlete is safe, but so long as we refuse to admit any sort of human weakness in our athletes, they will strive to cheat the system. It has become a way of life. There might be those out there clamoring for everyone to "come clean", but that will no more happen than these sudden turnabouts are merely conscience driven. I may be naive, but I am not stupid, and neither is the general population.
So, what then becomes the solution? We need to accept weakness. We need to learn to accept failure. No one can be perfect day in and day out. Get used to it. So the mountains of the Tour de France made Alberto Contador bonk. There will be another day for him without his beef. So 82 games in a season is brutal. There comes a point when the fourth line becomes invaluable to a hockey team. And a loss is not the end of the world. Learn to accept failure, take it with the success, and maybe, just maybe, we will start to see cleaner sports.
BlytheLea L.E.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Love is a Funny Thing
As an NHL lockout seems to grow in its inevitibility, I am forced to take stock on just what this might mean. I don't mean that in regards to hockey in general. There are the obvious issues. After all, the lockout means no money for anyone, owners, players, coaches, ice crews, trainers, etc, etc. No, while I will admit to having considered the farther reaching aspects of what this lockout could mean to the budding hockey world in general, right about now I am locked in on selfish reasons only.
I'll admit, I was not always the die hard fan I am today. I once considered reading through the fine print in the Seattle newspaper to find the Penguins games as keeping touch. Granted, they sucked back then, and a win was a painful rarity. I distinctly recall the last lock out, but not for the obvious reasons. I remember what happened in 2005 for what came after: Sidney Crosby. When you have a free subscription to Sports Illustrated, it is hard not to catch the bigger issues, and Sid the Kid was one. I began to slowly follow a little more, but living in the middle of nowhere with no satelite or cable, I was reduced to newspapers and dial up internet. It didn't mean much, but as time went on, it ceased to be enough. Luckily, we gained satelite in that time, and I began to watch a game or two. then that moment occured in my life that changed everything: my best friend's wedding. Now, most people would not consider their best friend's wedding as something to make a die hard hockey fan out of anyone, but it did just that for me. Reduced to wearing an orange dress with a pink sash amongst total strangers, I was desperate for something to take my mind off things. That something was hockey. The year? 2009.
I had been building to becoming a full fledged hockey nut over the long course of about five years, but it came into full bloom as Sid, Geno, Flower, and Max worked their way to that fateful Stanley Cup Final. I had watched them lose the year before, I had watched as they struggled to find their stride, but now I was watching as though my very life depended on it. In a way, it kind of did. I made a deal that if they could come from behind, being at a 0-2 defecit to the Red Wings in the Final, that I would suck it up, grin and bear it, and otherwise not complain about the dress, the reception, or the strangers. I chewed my nails off as the Pens rallied to win Games 3 and 4, was luckily busy elsewhere with wedding plans for the disasterous Game 5, and cheered until I was hoarse for Jordan Staal in Game 6. Then came Game 7. Unable to take it, both the leave from work and the stress, I went to my job. It was a busy day, and for a few blissful minutes I was too busy to realize that the Pens fate and my happiness was being decided. Then I checked, almost too rattled to read, but they had done it, they had won! That night, I watched highlights until one in the morning, basking in the happiness of Max's goals, Flower's last minute saves, Scudederi's amazing defense, and Geno's joy as he launched himself onto a pile of teammates with tears in his eyes. I'll never forget that day, those playoffs, or those players. Even if Scuds went to LA, even if Max did the unthinkable and became a Flyer. That team will stay with me, as it will with many Pens fans. They were my salvation, and what got me trhough.
Now, the obvious question arises of what this has to do with anything now, three and a half years later. As the lockout looms, it would seem not much, but for every true fan, there is a similar moment in their life, when they look at the Pens and think, they're MY team. True, Geno has agreed to play at his home town of Magnitogorsk should (when) the lockout happens. Rumor has it Sid is interested too. What a trip that would be if they played together. It would be enough to make me want to save up for a plane ticket, a hotel room, and a travel visa, just to make my way on trains that only run every other day in and out of the Pittsburgh of Russia to watch my favorite players play their favorite sport. If only the KHL teams offered package deals to frustrated NHL fans. Imagine, the WHL and AHL are bound to increase tickets sales this year. We fans are desperate, and if the NHL cannot deliver, well, we'll simply have to find another way. That is what hockey is to those of us who are more than bandwagon fans. We don't care if our team wins or loses, though we much prefer the wins. We just want to see them play, and that, above all else, is what will get us through the coming months. Our sense of optimism will have us chekcing the news every morning and again every night. For a league that is concerned for their players in regards to the Olympics, it seems a wanton waste to let them leave the country now just so they can continue to play. The NHL and NHLPA might say it's about finding common ground, but let's be honest, it's about the money, and that is something most fans have a hard time relating to. The difference between 57% and 43% might be astronomical to both sides, but to us, it's a number we will never see in our bank accounds. So, as I am forced to consider funneling my hard earned money into a plane ticket to Russia, I have to stop and wonder, just how many games at home would that be? Just imagine the money Magnitogorsk could make if they had Sid and Geno. Regardless of the number, its more than the Pens are looking to make right now, and that is a tradgedy.
I'll admit, I was not always the die hard fan I am today. I once considered reading through the fine print in the Seattle newspaper to find the Penguins games as keeping touch. Granted, they sucked back then, and a win was a painful rarity. I distinctly recall the last lock out, but not for the obvious reasons. I remember what happened in 2005 for what came after: Sidney Crosby. When you have a free subscription to Sports Illustrated, it is hard not to catch the bigger issues, and Sid the Kid was one. I began to slowly follow a little more, but living in the middle of nowhere with no satelite or cable, I was reduced to newspapers and dial up internet. It didn't mean much, but as time went on, it ceased to be enough. Luckily, we gained satelite in that time, and I began to watch a game or two. then that moment occured in my life that changed everything: my best friend's wedding. Now, most people would not consider their best friend's wedding as something to make a die hard hockey fan out of anyone, but it did just that for me. Reduced to wearing an orange dress with a pink sash amongst total strangers, I was desperate for something to take my mind off things. That something was hockey. The year? 2009.
I had been building to becoming a full fledged hockey nut over the long course of about five years, but it came into full bloom as Sid, Geno, Flower, and Max worked their way to that fateful Stanley Cup Final. I had watched them lose the year before, I had watched as they struggled to find their stride, but now I was watching as though my very life depended on it. In a way, it kind of did. I made a deal that if they could come from behind, being at a 0-2 defecit to the Red Wings in the Final, that I would suck it up, grin and bear it, and otherwise not complain about the dress, the reception, or the strangers. I chewed my nails off as the Pens rallied to win Games 3 and 4, was luckily busy elsewhere with wedding plans for the disasterous Game 5, and cheered until I was hoarse for Jordan Staal in Game 6. Then came Game 7. Unable to take it, both the leave from work and the stress, I went to my job. It was a busy day, and for a few blissful minutes I was too busy to realize that the Pens fate and my happiness was being decided. Then I checked, almost too rattled to read, but they had done it, they had won! That night, I watched highlights until one in the morning, basking in the happiness of Max's goals, Flower's last minute saves, Scudederi's amazing defense, and Geno's joy as he launched himself onto a pile of teammates with tears in his eyes. I'll never forget that day, those playoffs, or those players. Even if Scuds went to LA, even if Max did the unthinkable and became a Flyer. That team will stay with me, as it will with many Pens fans. They were my salvation, and what got me trhough.
Now, the obvious question arises of what this has to do with anything now, three and a half years later. As the lockout looms, it would seem not much, but for every true fan, there is a similar moment in their life, when they look at the Pens and think, they're MY team. True, Geno has agreed to play at his home town of Magnitogorsk should (when) the lockout happens. Rumor has it Sid is interested too. What a trip that would be if they played together. It would be enough to make me want to save up for a plane ticket, a hotel room, and a travel visa, just to make my way on trains that only run every other day in and out of the Pittsburgh of Russia to watch my favorite players play their favorite sport. If only the KHL teams offered package deals to frustrated NHL fans. Imagine, the WHL and AHL are bound to increase tickets sales this year. We fans are desperate, and if the NHL cannot deliver, well, we'll simply have to find another way. That is what hockey is to those of us who are more than bandwagon fans. We don't care if our team wins or loses, though we much prefer the wins. We just want to see them play, and that, above all else, is what will get us through the coming months. Our sense of optimism will have us chekcing the news every morning and again every night. For a league that is concerned for their players in regards to the Olympics, it seems a wanton waste to let them leave the country now just so they can continue to play. The NHL and NHLPA might say it's about finding common ground, but let's be honest, it's about the money, and that is something most fans have a hard time relating to. The difference between 57% and 43% might be astronomical to both sides, but to us, it's a number we will never see in our bank accounds. So, as I am forced to consider funneling my hard earned money into a plane ticket to Russia, I have to stop and wonder, just how many games at home would that be? Just imagine the money Magnitogorsk could make if they had Sid and Geno. Regardless of the number, its more than the Pens are looking to make right now, and that is a tradgedy.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Brace for the Lockout
Okay, so honestly, how many people want to miss out on an entire hockey season? Yes, I am lucky to be stationed near the Tri-City Americans, and so I would have some WHL to fall back on, but let's be honest, it's not the same. Even when the NFL was on the verge of their own lockout, I refused to believe that college football was the answer. Same sort of problem here.
If I were to do a poll for what the fans of hockey think about this lockout, I have the strong suspicion that the bulk of the responsibility would fall to the penny pinching owners. Even for football, even with enormous salaries, the players seem to walk away unscathed. I attribute part of this to the personality of the sport. Businessmen are just not meant to warm our hearts with their money heroics. (No political message intended) Players go to children's hospitals, help out military vets, and they smile at every available camera. It is the players who work their way into our hearts, and so when it comes right down to it, it is the players who we will side with. If not for their talent and personality, there would be no fans to fill the rinks. And then, in the case of the NHLPA, they follow this up with the master stroke of good will. They put, the very first time on the table, the idea of cutting salaries for a greater sharing. They took the words out of the owners' mouths, and so where are we left? With the suits determining there is too great a distance to be bridged.
When hockey comes back, and it will, there will be no burgeoning superstars (Alex Ovechkin and Sidney Crosby) fresh out of juniors to follow. We will have our veterans (Alex Ovechkin and Sidney Crosby, the Sedins, Stamkos, Malkin, Kopitar, etc) and a sour taste in our mouths. I know the owners are hardly going to change their point of view by a few words that are written in the professional sports Sahara of Eastern Washington, but here's hoping smarter heads prevail. Not cooler, businessmen aren't lacking there, but someone with common sense, right about now, would be absolutely, positively, priceless.
BlytheLea L.E.
If I were to do a poll for what the fans of hockey think about this lockout, I have the strong suspicion that the bulk of the responsibility would fall to the penny pinching owners. Even for football, even with enormous salaries, the players seem to walk away unscathed. I attribute part of this to the personality of the sport. Businessmen are just not meant to warm our hearts with their money heroics. (No political message intended) Players go to children's hospitals, help out military vets, and they smile at every available camera. It is the players who work their way into our hearts, and so when it comes right down to it, it is the players who we will side with. If not for their talent and personality, there would be no fans to fill the rinks. And then, in the case of the NHLPA, they follow this up with the master stroke of good will. They put, the very first time on the table, the idea of cutting salaries for a greater sharing. They took the words out of the owners' mouths, and so where are we left? With the suits determining there is too great a distance to be bridged.
When hockey comes back, and it will, there will be no burgeoning superstars (Alex Ovechkin and Sidney Crosby) fresh out of juniors to follow. We will have our veterans (Alex Ovechkin and Sidney Crosby, the Sedins, Stamkos, Malkin, Kopitar, etc) and a sour taste in our mouths. I know the owners are hardly going to change their point of view by a few words that are written in the professional sports Sahara of Eastern Washington, but here's hoping smarter heads prevail. Not cooler, businessmen aren't lacking there, but someone with common sense, right about now, would be absolutely, positively, priceless.
BlytheLea L.E.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Long Time No Post
Wow, its been awhile. I missed the Olympics, the Tour of Utah, and, well, anything else that happened. Golf does not count. I personally view golf as a recreation not a sport, and the best way to play it is put put.
In the cycling world, the La Vuelta is fast approaching, but I am eagerly awaiting the US Pro Cycling Challange. I know its crazy, but I feel like someone must have read this blog and convinced my favorite riders to come. Crazy Legs Voigt and Andy Schleck? Oh, if only I could get myself to Colorado. Instead, I'll be watching it at home and trying, again, to come up with a way to go next year.
Pre season football has begun. I have never managed to muster any enthusiasm for the preseason games. And, for some reason, since the antics of last year followed closely by so many screw ups when it comes to my favorite team, the Saints, I am having a hard time mentally preparing this year, too. Can anyone help? Or is anyone feeling this same sort of jet lag? We want the season to begin, but at the same time don't really care if it does. Who Dat anyway and for good measure.
Speaking of a lack of enthusiasm, please NHL, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, avoid yet another professional lockout. You were freakishly lucky last time to have two of the biggest stars come onto your stage after the lockout. If not for Alex Ovechkin and Sidney Crosby, let's be honest, the sport would have faltered badly. Instead, with the help of a few more superstars, like Evgeni Malkin, Steven Stamkos, and the entire LA Kings team, you have a sport people actually want to watch. Don't throw that all away. Money may be the driving factor for most of this capitalistic world, but facts don't lie. I cannot be the only one suffering from post NFL lockout hangover. Please, NHL, while more than just die hard fans like you, don't spoil the feeling. No Winter Classic showdown would save your newly established image if you give into the same sort of bickering and squabbling that consumes the political realm. Besides, its an election year. Save us from having to watch the news.
Well, I could go on forever, but from personal experience get bored when someone goes on for more than a page on a single diatribe. I'll stop while I'm ahead. Anyway, here's hoping for a NHL season, and for a glimmer of enthusiasm about the NFL one. In the meantime, there is always cycling.
BlytheLea L.E.
In the cycling world, the La Vuelta is fast approaching, but I am eagerly awaiting the US Pro Cycling Challange. I know its crazy, but I feel like someone must have read this blog and convinced my favorite riders to come. Crazy Legs Voigt and Andy Schleck? Oh, if only I could get myself to Colorado. Instead, I'll be watching it at home and trying, again, to come up with a way to go next year.
Pre season football has begun. I have never managed to muster any enthusiasm for the preseason games. And, for some reason, since the antics of last year followed closely by so many screw ups when it comes to my favorite team, the Saints, I am having a hard time mentally preparing this year, too. Can anyone help? Or is anyone feeling this same sort of jet lag? We want the season to begin, but at the same time don't really care if it does. Who Dat anyway and for good measure.
Speaking of a lack of enthusiasm, please NHL, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, avoid yet another professional lockout. You were freakishly lucky last time to have two of the biggest stars come onto your stage after the lockout. If not for Alex Ovechkin and Sidney Crosby, let's be honest, the sport would have faltered badly. Instead, with the help of a few more superstars, like Evgeni Malkin, Steven Stamkos, and the entire LA Kings team, you have a sport people actually want to watch. Don't throw that all away. Money may be the driving factor for most of this capitalistic world, but facts don't lie. I cannot be the only one suffering from post NFL lockout hangover. Please, NHL, while more than just die hard fans like you, don't spoil the feeling. No Winter Classic showdown would save your newly established image if you give into the same sort of bickering and squabbling that consumes the political realm. Besides, its an election year. Save us from having to watch the news.
Well, I could go on forever, but from personal experience get bored when someone goes on for more than a page on a single diatribe. I'll stop while I'm ahead. Anyway, here's hoping for a NHL season, and for a glimmer of enthusiasm about the NFL one. In the meantime, there is always cycling.
BlytheLea L.E.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Whinny if You Like the Olympics
I suppose, with this being the great and glorious time of the Olympics, if I really wanted to catch an audience, I should come up with an interesting piece about the gymnastics team, or Michael Phelps vs Ryan Lochte. Much as I appreciate the sports I have watched so far, I just can't bring myself to generalize with the masses. Here at BlytheLea we like random things. Most days this is either cycling or hockeyn when it comes to professional sports, but for a brief moment in time, when the sport to end all sports is given a few rays of television, I have to stop and wonder. To me, as an amateur horse shower, nothing gets my interest like the 3 Day Eventing and the Dressage. As an eventer, I acknowledge that dressage is not my strong suit. On my less shown mount, I admit that dressage is a wonderful art, and someday, maybe, we can be up at that level too.
3 Day Eventing is a true test of champions. First, the high strung horses ideal for the sport have to be tempered for dressage, and then wound back up and maneuvered around a tricky obstacle course before being asked to come back and add precision around a stadium course. I love it, there's no other word for it. I have competed in minor events for ten years now, and watching the Olympics is a wonderful moment to enjoy. Rarely, very, very rarely is eventing broadcast on major networks. For the most part, if we competitors want to watch, we watch each other or have someone tape our rounds for slow days at the farm. But now, in London, I was able to watch a truly magnificent showing of horses and riders. Pox on NBC for changing their times around and forcing me up at five to six in the morning to watch anything, but at least there was something. For someone like me, who rarely gets to see the talent that was on display compete, well, for now, it isenough.
As for Dressage, a not so quick note on how preposterous the world has become about this sport. Forget politics. Politics only serve to sully the sports world by dragging it down into the muck with it. I get incensed on a nearly daily basis to watch the pundits mocking the artistic sport that is dressage. "Horse Ballet" they continue to call it. These people, certain presidential hopefuls included, do not understand what the sport is about. Dressage has long been a way for the horse and rider to find perfect harmony. Since ancient times, man has been seeking to work with the horse to better the ride. What dressage embodies is the peak of this quest, the end to the wonderful path so many have embarked on. It is not a political moment, or juicy bit of gossip, and I beg the world to stop painting it as such. Yes, most top competitors need a lot of money to stay competitive, and most of those horses were bought for at least five figures. However, as an amateur, I have competed and won events on horses I got for free. Retired Standardbreds, Mustangs, and off the track Thoroughbreds may not be the grand warmbloods on the world's stage right now, but each has won a ribbon at dressage, and we got their together, my horses and me, through communication. We did not do it for the notoriety, or the money, but for that glorious moment when I know we just accomplished something truly special. When I watch the Olympians on their mounts, I am inspired to try more. I am not inspired to become a millionaire and buy the fanciest mount money can by. If that is how you see dressage, you are seeing it all wrong. I am inspired to try great things, to reach for the stars, and that, above all else, is truly what the Olympics are about.
3 Day Eventing is a true test of champions. First, the high strung horses ideal for the sport have to be tempered for dressage, and then wound back up and maneuvered around a tricky obstacle course before being asked to come back and add precision around a stadium course. I love it, there's no other word for it. I have competed in minor events for ten years now, and watching the Olympics is a wonderful moment to enjoy. Rarely, very, very rarely is eventing broadcast on major networks. For the most part, if we competitors want to watch, we watch each other or have someone tape our rounds for slow days at the farm. But now, in London, I was able to watch a truly magnificent showing of horses and riders. Pox on NBC for changing their times around and forcing me up at five to six in the morning to watch anything, but at least there was something. For someone like me, who rarely gets to see the talent that was on display compete, well, for now, it isenough.
As for Dressage, a not so quick note on how preposterous the world has become about this sport. Forget politics. Politics only serve to sully the sports world by dragging it down into the muck with it. I get incensed on a nearly daily basis to watch the pundits mocking the artistic sport that is dressage. "Horse Ballet" they continue to call it. These people, certain presidential hopefuls included, do not understand what the sport is about. Dressage has long been a way for the horse and rider to find perfect harmony. Since ancient times, man has been seeking to work with the horse to better the ride. What dressage embodies is the peak of this quest, the end to the wonderful path so many have embarked on. It is not a political moment, or juicy bit of gossip, and I beg the world to stop painting it as such. Yes, most top competitors need a lot of money to stay competitive, and most of those horses were bought for at least five figures. However, as an amateur, I have competed and won events on horses I got for free. Retired Standardbreds, Mustangs, and off the track Thoroughbreds may not be the grand warmbloods on the world's stage right now, but each has won a ribbon at dressage, and we got their together, my horses and me, through communication. We did not do it for the notoriety, or the money, but for that glorious moment when I know we just accomplished something truly special. When I watch the Olympians on their mounts, I am inspired to try more. I am not inspired to become a millionaire and buy the fanciest mount money can by. If that is how you see dressage, you are seeing it all wrong. I am inspired to try great things, to reach for the stars, and that, above all else, is truly what the Olympics are about.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Olympic Head Scratcher
Huh.
That is my single thought after watching the Olympic Mens Road Race. Then, well, I had to get to thiking, didn't I? Huh, as succent a thought as it was, is hardly much of an opinion.
I, like most of the world, figured today was going to be Mark Cavendish's day. I was wrong. My dark horse was for Tyler Farrer, the home boy from my side of the state. I was wrong on that front too. Popular opinion then put Peter Sagan as an option. Wrong. Andre Greipel. Wrong. Fabian Cancellara. Wrong. So, where does that leave us? Alexander Vinokourov. Vino, the little Kazakh famously known for a controversial career including, in no particular order, illegal blood transfusion, winning, crashing, and a prooly timed sprint on none other than the Champs Elysees. (Excuse my spelling today, I am without my fact checking back up, aka my phone.)
With three riders at one point in the breakaway, I was really hoping one of the Americans would make a run for it. Well, so one of them did. Congrats to Taylor Phinney for fourth. No matter what else you think, only three riders in the world were better today, and so few people could make that claim.
Well, today did not go as planned. I'll say congratulations to Vino, that was a brillant ride. Lets be honest, no one wanted to wait for a sprint at the end, so credit where credit is due. A perfect end to a not so perfect career.
BlythLea L.E.
P.S. Best of wishes to recovery for Fabian Cancellara, hope nothing is broken.
That is my single thought after watching the Olympic Mens Road Race. Then, well, I had to get to thiking, didn't I? Huh, as succent a thought as it was, is hardly much of an opinion.
I, like most of the world, figured today was going to be Mark Cavendish's day. I was wrong. My dark horse was for Tyler Farrer, the home boy from my side of the state. I was wrong on that front too. Popular opinion then put Peter Sagan as an option. Wrong. Andre Greipel. Wrong. Fabian Cancellara. Wrong. So, where does that leave us? Alexander Vinokourov. Vino, the little Kazakh famously known for a controversial career including, in no particular order, illegal blood transfusion, winning, crashing, and a prooly timed sprint on none other than the Champs Elysees. (Excuse my spelling today, I am without my fact checking back up, aka my phone.)
With three riders at one point in the breakaway, I was really hoping one of the Americans would make a run for it. Well, so one of them did. Congrats to Taylor Phinney for fourth. No matter what else you think, only three riders in the world were better today, and so few people could make that claim.
Well, today did not go as planned. I'll say congratulations to Vino, that was a brillant ride. Lets be honest, no one wanted to wait for a sprint at the end, so credit where credit is due. A perfect end to a not so perfect career.
BlythLea L.E.
P.S. Best of wishes to recovery for Fabian Cancellara, hope nothing is broken.
Friday, July 27, 2012
The Olympics are coming! The Olympics are coming! Oh, wait, the Olympics are here...
Tonight marks the opening ceremony, and, hate to say it, but since the Stig will not be lighting the torch, my enthusiasm is guarded until the games actually begin. Don't ask me why, but I've always been a fan of Michael Phelps, and I'll be hoping he pulls a bit of an upset ala Ian Thorpe in the 50m free back in Athens. I think I have that right, but as Brenden Hansen, Dara Torres, etc show, sometimes our best is not at our peak but when we have absolutely nothing to lose. Here's hoping our American Olympians have a great showing.
In other news, Cavendish is the favorite for the road race, with Wiggins a morning line favorite for the time trial. I suppose, realistically, my so dark he's still hiding in the stable choice for the road race will be Tyler Farrer. After a truely miserable Tour, here's hoping he has the ride of his life, even with the "formidable" Box Hill. Also, let me be unoriginal and hope for Fabian Cancellara in the Time Trial. My mom still refers to him as Fabio, in reference to years ago, his long bleached blond hair. Fan favorite, family favorite, same thing here at BlytheLea.
As to hockey, I won't dignify what's been going on. I'll miss Jordan Staal, but Semin a Cane? Huh, that's a head scratcher. As for the other, well, I'll simply relax and wait for pre season. It all means nothing until they play.
So, I'll sit back, enjoy the show, and hope for a truly remarkable Olympic show. Here's hoping!
BlythLea L.E.
Have a different view? Let me know! Also, for any foreign audience, here at BlytheLea, we can roughly understand German, French, Spanish, Italian, and Russian. Maybe, on a good day, a little Greek and Portugese as well. If not, there's always BabelFish, which, sadly, is no longer named after a Douglas Adams creation. I refuse to acknowledge the change.
Tonight marks the opening ceremony, and, hate to say it, but since the Stig will not be lighting the torch, my enthusiasm is guarded until the games actually begin. Don't ask me why, but I've always been a fan of Michael Phelps, and I'll be hoping he pulls a bit of an upset ala Ian Thorpe in the 50m free back in Athens. I think I have that right, but as Brenden Hansen, Dara Torres, etc show, sometimes our best is not at our peak but when we have absolutely nothing to lose. Here's hoping our American Olympians have a great showing.
In other news, Cavendish is the favorite for the road race, with Wiggins a morning line favorite for the time trial. I suppose, realistically, my so dark he's still hiding in the stable choice for the road race will be Tyler Farrer. After a truely miserable Tour, here's hoping he has the ride of his life, even with the "formidable" Box Hill. Also, let me be unoriginal and hope for Fabian Cancellara in the Time Trial. My mom still refers to him as Fabio, in reference to years ago, his long bleached blond hair. Fan favorite, family favorite, same thing here at BlytheLea.
As to hockey, I won't dignify what's been going on. I'll miss Jordan Staal, but Semin a Cane? Huh, that's a head scratcher. As for the other, well, I'll simply relax and wait for pre season. It all means nothing until they play.
So, I'll sit back, enjoy the show, and hope for a truly remarkable Olympic show. Here's hoping!
BlythLea L.E.
Have a different view? Let me know! Also, for any foreign audience, here at BlytheLea, we can roughly understand German, French, Spanish, Italian, and Russian. Maybe, on a good day, a little Greek and Portugese as well. If not, there's always BabelFish, which, sadly, is no longer named after a Douglas Adams creation. I refuse to acknowledge the change.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Four Sports in Four Minutes
Okay, so I've mentioned that here at BlytheLea we like random things. Today's topic, to cover all the sports I love in under four minutes. That means a posting time of 9:05 PST. Go!
Cycling: Well, it's been the topic I've been on the most lately. Looking forward to the Olympics. Much as I didn't hate that Team Sky swept the Tour, really pushing for someone else to win in London. I know Cavendish put in a ton of work for this, but, really, I'd love to see a dark horse win. Also, sorry to be missing Thor Hushovd. Hope the rest of the year's races make up for maybe a bit of a bland beginning. US Pro Cycling, I mean you.
Hockey: The hockey world is still buzzing over the whole Rick Nash trade. Honestly, don't really care. Will he make the Rangers better? Maybe, probably, but if all of Pittsburgh's cylinders can fire in unison, even as a self proclaimed totally biased fan, I think the Pens win the East. Here's hoping at least.
Football: This whole Bountygate thing leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth. As the lawsuits continue, I am daily reminded of how Congress fails to get anything done as well. Really, they feel somewhat similar. The conclusion to be drawn? Even in sports, it's all just politics.
Horses: Had to broaden this one out a bit considering its the Olympics, but I'm about out of my allowed time. Since the tragic loss of Amy Tryon, I'm not as keen to watch the Three Day Eventing. I love the sport, compete in the sport, and I love Stadium, and Dressage, but I feel like without the flag bearer for reasonable economy succeeding in an otherwise really freaking expensive sport, I'm left watching rich people ride in the sport I love and I just can't connect with that.
So, there it was, a minute late. If you have anything to add, feel free to let me know.
BlytheLea L.E.
Cycling: Well, it's been the topic I've been on the most lately. Looking forward to the Olympics. Much as I didn't hate that Team Sky swept the Tour, really pushing for someone else to win in London. I know Cavendish put in a ton of work for this, but, really, I'd love to see a dark horse win. Also, sorry to be missing Thor Hushovd. Hope the rest of the year's races make up for maybe a bit of a bland beginning. US Pro Cycling, I mean you.
Hockey: The hockey world is still buzzing over the whole Rick Nash trade. Honestly, don't really care. Will he make the Rangers better? Maybe, probably, but if all of Pittsburgh's cylinders can fire in unison, even as a self proclaimed totally biased fan, I think the Pens win the East. Here's hoping at least.
Football: This whole Bountygate thing leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth. As the lawsuits continue, I am daily reminded of how Congress fails to get anything done as well. Really, they feel somewhat similar. The conclusion to be drawn? Even in sports, it's all just politics.
Horses: Had to broaden this one out a bit considering its the Olympics, but I'm about out of my allowed time. Since the tragic loss of Amy Tryon, I'm not as keen to watch the Three Day Eventing. I love the sport, compete in the sport, and I love Stadium, and Dressage, but I feel like without the flag bearer for reasonable economy succeeding in an otherwise really freaking expensive sport, I'm left watching rich people ride in the sport I love and I just can't connect with that.
So, there it was, a minute late. If you have anything to add, feel free to let me know.
BlytheLea L.E.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
L'esprit vs reality
Bear with me as I get through the following rant. Sometimes, I just can't quite get back to the topic fast enough.
The topic of this blog is L'esprIit vs reality. This is sort of a dual action topic. On the one hand, there is my opinion about cycling, on the other my own battles with the sport.
L'esprit: Around this time every year, cyclists start to line the roads. Some, like me, on bikes that are hardly showpieces, others fully eqipped to look the part of professional (with the slight drawback of having more than 2% body fat) I love to watch this spirit of the sport. During the World Cup, kids are out in droves playing soccer. During Wimbleton, as my mother the tennis expert notes, the courts are packed. During the Tour, the roads are. Every year, I think about joining them. Couch cyclist, that's what I am, but this year I decided to try it. I have two bikes, one is a mountain bike by Cannondale that I inherited from my mother. The other is a road bike of dubious origin that I'll be experimenting with putting back together. Still, the road is calling. On the topic of l'esprit, let me just say that fans and couch cyclists and bandwagon followers of cycling create a Catch 22 for our athletes. On the one hand, we want them to be better, faster, and more agile than us. We build them up as demi-gods, but in the same moment insinutate ourselves so deeply into their lives they can barely breathe, desperate to prove that they are yet falliable. On the one hand wishing them to be better than the rest of us, on the other, resenting rtheir talents and seeking to destroy their images. That happy thought leads me to part 2:
Reality: Now I have decided this is the year to actually ride my bike and hope on down to a wifi spot to do these posts. I am saving the enviornment and getting in shape at the same time! Unfortunately, reality sets in at this point. First, I had a flat back tire first thing out of the garage. Finally fixed that, only, on my very next ride, lose my front tube. Not only did it go flat, the valve came out. That tube is toast. Also, with my penchant for injury, I really need a new helmet. The cost of this endeavor continue to pile up, and that, my friends, is reality. As for our athletes, I'll wrap this up quickly for anyone brave enough to get this far. I do not remember Jan Ulrich for his doping. I remember the man and the athlete who went to battle every year against Lance Armstrong, and who joined in a chivalrous code of respect. When Lance went down on the montains and Jan Ulrich waited, I could not have cared less about PEDs. That was the spirit of the sport, not the reality. While we go on about our lives, and sports fans find more main stream sports to follow, I hope a few stop to think about that. If we lose the spirit by demanding reality, we are left with nothing.
BlytheLea L.E.
P.S. I welcome any feedback. I might not agree with you, you might not agree with me, but that is what drives a good debate. Keep cycling!
The topic of this blog is L'esprIit vs reality. This is sort of a dual action topic. On the one hand, there is my opinion about cycling, on the other my own battles with the sport.
L'esprit: Around this time every year, cyclists start to line the roads. Some, like me, on bikes that are hardly showpieces, others fully eqipped to look the part of professional (with the slight drawback of having more than 2% body fat) I love to watch this spirit of the sport. During the World Cup, kids are out in droves playing soccer. During Wimbleton, as my mother the tennis expert notes, the courts are packed. During the Tour, the roads are. Every year, I think about joining them. Couch cyclist, that's what I am, but this year I decided to try it. I have two bikes, one is a mountain bike by Cannondale that I inherited from my mother. The other is a road bike of dubious origin that I'll be experimenting with putting back together. Still, the road is calling. On the topic of l'esprit, let me just say that fans and couch cyclists and bandwagon followers of cycling create a Catch 22 for our athletes. On the one hand, we want them to be better, faster, and more agile than us. We build them up as demi-gods, but in the same moment insinutate ourselves so deeply into their lives they can barely breathe, desperate to prove that they are yet falliable. On the one hand wishing them to be better than the rest of us, on the other, resenting rtheir talents and seeking to destroy their images. That happy thought leads me to part 2:
Reality: Now I have decided this is the year to actually ride my bike and hope on down to a wifi spot to do these posts. I am saving the enviornment and getting in shape at the same time! Unfortunately, reality sets in at this point. First, I had a flat back tire first thing out of the garage. Finally fixed that, only, on my very next ride, lose my front tube. Not only did it go flat, the valve came out. That tube is toast. Also, with my penchant for injury, I really need a new helmet. The cost of this endeavor continue to pile up, and that, my friends, is reality. As for our athletes, I'll wrap this up quickly for anyone brave enough to get this far. I do not remember Jan Ulrich for his doping. I remember the man and the athlete who went to battle every year against Lance Armstrong, and who joined in a chivalrous code of respect. When Lance went down on the montains and Jan Ulrich waited, I could not have cared less about PEDs. That was the spirit of the sport, not the reality. While we go on about our lives, and sports fans find more main stream sports to follow, I hope a few stop to think about that. If we lose the spirit by demanding reality, we are left with nothing.
BlytheLea L.E.
P.S. I welcome any feedback. I might not agree with you, you might not agree with me, but that is what drives a good debate. Keep cycling!
Friday, July 20, 2012
Vive Le Tour
I really don't know of a sport that is more team oriented than cycling. Hockey probably comes in a close second in most cases, but rarely in professional sports do you witness the sheer dedication to a larger goal than in the Tour de France. Take today for example. A huge congratulations, and a tip of the chapeau to Team Sky and Mark Cavendish. All Tour, Brits across the world have been tuned in to watch Cav and Wiggo (Bradley Wiggins) much like Australians tuned in last year in mass to watch Cadel Evans defeat Andy Schleck for the first Australian title holder.
I have to admit to rolling my eyes at a great many of the "fans" of the sport who have been moaning about how Sky treats Cav. Let's be honest, when HTC folded last year and Cav made a point to go to the British team, he knew what he was getting in for. No longer was the team built around him, it was built for the GC. Cav knew this, and he suffered through the mountains like any teammate for the sake of the team. Really, what better result can you ask for than what will probably be the final podium in Paris of Wiggins-Froome? That tops Leopard Trek's effort last year of 2-3 with Andy and Frank. That tops Astana's 1-3 with Alberto Contador and Lance Armstrong. Really, for a team, it can't get much better, and for all the complaints, every single member of Team Sky knew that going in. So I say congratulations to them. They rode as a team, in as dominating a performance as I have seen since the great blue train that was US Postal. They will win as a team come Sunday, and that is just how cycling should be.
Also, while the world of cycling has been sort of struggling to embrace the enigmatic Wiggins, this tour has raised not only him, but also Cavendish in my estimation. I've always preferred the quiet riders, so I guess Wiggo fit that mold, but Cav certainly did not. However, with his selfless effort at the front of his lead out day in and day out, I have to admit to a new appreciation of the Manx Missile. Okay, so my favorite for the Tour didn't even make the starting line, but I can watch the end of this race with a smile of satisfaction and not a pit of anger eating away the lining of my stomach. One last round of applause for Team Sky, and an eye for the Time Trial tomorrow with one final day on the Champs Elysees before waiting another year to witness the beauty that is the Tour de France. Literally, there is nothing like it in the world.
BlytheLea L.E.
I have to admit to rolling my eyes at a great many of the "fans" of the sport who have been moaning about how Sky treats Cav. Let's be honest, when HTC folded last year and Cav made a point to go to the British team, he knew what he was getting in for. No longer was the team built around him, it was built for the GC. Cav knew this, and he suffered through the mountains like any teammate for the sake of the team. Really, what better result can you ask for than what will probably be the final podium in Paris of Wiggins-Froome? That tops Leopard Trek's effort last year of 2-3 with Andy and Frank. That tops Astana's 1-3 with Alberto Contador and Lance Armstrong. Really, for a team, it can't get much better, and for all the complaints, every single member of Team Sky knew that going in. So I say congratulations to them. They rode as a team, in as dominating a performance as I have seen since the great blue train that was US Postal. They will win as a team come Sunday, and that is just how cycling should be.
Also, while the world of cycling has been sort of struggling to embrace the enigmatic Wiggins, this tour has raised not only him, but also Cavendish in my estimation. I've always preferred the quiet riders, so I guess Wiggo fit that mold, but Cav certainly did not. However, with his selfless effort at the front of his lead out day in and day out, I have to admit to a new appreciation of the Manx Missile. Okay, so my favorite for the Tour didn't even make the starting line, but I can watch the end of this race with a smile of satisfaction and not a pit of anger eating away the lining of my stomach. One last round of applause for Team Sky, and an eye for the Time Trial tomorrow with one final day on the Champs Elysees before waiting another year to witness the beauty that is the Tour de France. Literally, there is nothing like it in the world.
BlytheLea L.E.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Here at BlytheLea, we like random things. Nowhere is this more apparant than in the world of sports. Specifically, this is my area of randomness. I love non mainstream sports, horse racing, cycling, and hockey. The only mainstream sport I follow is football, but only the NFL and until Drew Brees was signed, even that sport was dead to me.
However, as the Tour de France comes to a close and there is this lull between professional sports that will be filled by the Olympics, I've decided why not, why not share my random wanderings with the world? Don't worry, I'm not so delusional as to imagine a hundred views, but you have to get your foot in the door somewhere and for me, it is here.
This has to be short, but let me just end with a few congratulations and a few views to end my ramblings with. Congrats to team Garmin Sharp for hanging in there, and best of luck to Tyler for the flat stages ahead, all two of them. Congrats to Radioshak Nissan Trek for holding your head up high and doing a phenomenal job keeping the team lead. I look forward to all, what, five? of you on the podium in Paris. On a side not, I still support Frank Schleck. I still support Lance Armstrong. Deep down, we all are prone to take the advice of others, and perhaps from time to time we shouldn't. I don't know the particulars, and, please, for the love of life, may everyone reporting this pay attention. None of us know the exact particulars. we were not there, we will never know. In a country where we are presumed innocent until proven guilty, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, and unless you know, you were there, let it play itself out. In the mean time, I will miss the tour, look forward to the US Pro Cycling Challange, and hope for the best all around.
BlythLea L.E.
P.S. Andy, please come to Colorado. Please, the Vuelta will be there next year, so will Contador, but maybe Colorado won't.
However, as the Tour de France comes to a close and there is this lull between professional sports that will be filled by the Olympics, I've decided why not, why not share my random wanderings with the world? Don't worry, I'm not so delusional as to imagine a hundred views, but you have to get your foot in the door somewhere and for me, it is here.
This has to be short, but let me just end with a few congratulations and a few views to end my ramblings with. Congrats to team Garmin Sharp for hanging in there, and best of luck to Tyler for the flat stages ahead, all two of them. Congrats to Radioshak Nissan Trek for holding your head up high and doing a phenomenal job keeping the team lead. I look forward to all, what, five? of you on the podium in Paris. On a side not, I still support Frank Schleck. I still support Lance Armstrong. Deep down, we all are prone to take the advice of others, and perhaps from time to time we shouldn't. I don't know the particulars, and, please, for the love of life, may everyone reporting this pay attention. None of us know the exact particulars. we were not there, we will never know. In a country where we are presumed innocent until proven guilty, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, and unless you know, you were there, let it play itself out. In the mean time, I will miss the tour, look forward to the US Pro Cycling Challange, and hope for the best all around.
BlythLea L.E.
P.S. Andy, please come to Colorado. Please, the Vuelta will be there next year, so will Contador, but maybe Colorado won't.
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