Even though I wasn't able to catch the entire match, what I saw of the Nadal-Federer Wimbledon final was breathtaking, not to mention nerve-wracking, tennis.
The days when I cared enough about a tennis player to drag myself out of bed for Breakfast at Wimbledon are long past, but the first rain delay helped me out in that regard. I started watching in the third set with Nadal trailing 4-5, caught the entire fourth set, and then had to switch off early in the fifth set for a family outing. Though Federer still lacks much personality on the court, the play was riveting, and the fourth set tiebreaker was probably Federer at his best. As they say in sports, you have to beat the champion, and even though Nadal appeared to have the better game, he also appeared to be having the most trouble dealing with the intensity of the moment.
Truth be told, when we left with the match tied in the fifth set, I absolutely expected to come home and read about a sixth consecutive Federer victory. So hat's off to Nadal, who is now poised to join Federer and others as one of the all-time greats.
Was this the greatest final? I dunno - my heart will always be with Borg-McEnroe 1980 (which I did drag myself out of bed for). But no question, this was a great final.
Monday, July 07, 2008
How To Tarnish A Legacy In Six Short Months
Boy, if you had bet six months ago that Brett Favre was poised to erase nearly two decades of good will in Green Bay, you would have been laughed out of the building. But a day of reckoning is coming soon, and depending on what happens, Packer Nation may never be quite the same again.
In his SI.Com column today, Peter King does a good job deconstructing the bind that the Packers are in. Basically, it boils down to this: keeping, releasing, and trading Favre are all bad options. My guess is that if Favre decides he wants to play, the Packers will keep him, regardless of what it costs them in terms of good will with Aaron Rodgers, the heir apparent. I just can't imagine that they'll take a chance on seeing Favre play in Chicago or Minnesota this fall and winter.
I've both lauded and criticized Favre in the past, and even though I generally agree with Bill James' adage that it's up to great players to decide when to retire, I have to say that I think Favre is out of his mind if he returns. But, last time I checked, I didn't get a vote.
In his SI.Com column today, Peter King does a good job deconstructing the bind that the Packers are in. Basically, it boils down to this: keeping, releasing, and trading Favre are all bad options. My guess is that if Favre decides he wants to play, the Packers will keep him, regardless of what it costs them in terms of good will with Aaron Rodgers, the heir apparent. I just can't imagine that they'll take a chance on seeing Favre play in Chicago or Minnesota this fall and winter.
I've both lauded and criticized Favre in the past, and even though I generally agree with Bill James' adage that it's up to great players to decide when to retire, I have to say that I think Favre is out of his mind if he returns. But, last time I checked, I didn't get a vote.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Jeff's Jukebox: B-4
B-4: Angel Baby, Rosie and the Originals
It may have been released in December, but to me it is a classic summer song, one that should be listened to on a hot, sultry evening, preferably sitting on the front porch with the stars shining bright. Video credit: Thunderbird 1958.
Friday, July 04, 2008
My First Blog Carnival - "Soup to Nuts"
Well, I've taken what some have told me is the next step in the world of blogdom - I've submitted entries to my first "Blog Carnival."
The host of the Carnival (and serving the main course), Soup to Nuts - A Gonzo Carnival, is Fear and Loathing - The Gonzo Papers, but since it is a progressive carnival, also features the following blogs:
Stories of a Traveling Diva serving Hors d'oeuvres;
Group Writing Projects serving Appetizers;
Herbal Connection serving the First Course; and
Blog N' Butter serving Dessert.
For more details about the Carnival, see here. And on July 31, check back to one of the above blogs to see if my entries passed muster.
The host of the Carnival (and serving the main course), Soup to Nuts - A Gonzo Carnival, is Fear and Loathing - The Gonzo Papers, but since it is a progressive carnival, also features the following blogs:
Stories of a Traveling Diva serving Hors d'oeuvres;
Group Writing Projects serving Appetizers;
Herbal Connection serving the First Course; and
Blog N' Butter serving Dessert.
For more details about the Carnival, see here. And on July 31, check back to one of the above blogs to see if my entries passed muster.
One Sentence Reviews
I’m bound and determined to review every album I’ve bought this year, even if I don’t really have the time to give each one the thought they deserve (or not, as the case may be). So with this post is introduced a new, possibly recurring feature: One Sentence Reviews! And I promise: if any of these albums makes my year-end Top Ten, I’ll write more than one sentence about it.
Shelby Lynne, Just A Little Lovin’. Sultry, veteran singer with one of the all-time great backstories takes on the legendary Dusty Springfield, and lives to tell the tale.
Sheryl Crow, Detours. Not as good as her best (by a long shot), but a lot better than her last two.
Old ‘97s, Blame It On Gravity. Solid, consistent alt-country band produces solid, consistent album with more than a few sublime moments.
Alejandro Escovedo, Real Animal. Austin veteran could very well get the breakout hit he deserves with this one, even if he does fare a bit better on the rockers than he does on the slow ones.
The Fratellis, Here We Stand. I don’t hear a lot of depth, but I do hear a lot of fun.
The Raconteurs, Consolers of the Lonely. The sophomore effort sounds like it was recorded by a real band, and results in an album I think I like better than Icky Thump.
Coldplay, Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends. I’m not sure what this band did to piss everyone off, but I like this one and can actually hear what Brian Eno brought to the table.
If you are fans of these artists, I can recommend all of these albums.
Shelby Lynne, Just A Little Lovin’. Sultry, veteran singer with one of the all-time great backstories takes on the legendary Dusty Springfield, and lives to tell the tale.
Sheryl Crow, Detours. Not as good as her best (by a long shot), but a lot better than her last two.
Old ‘97s, Blame It On Gravity. Solid, consistent alt-country band produces solid, consistent album with more than a few sublime moments.
Alejandro Escovedo, Real Animal. Austin veteran could very well get the breakout hit he deserves with this one, even if he does fare a bit better on the rockers than he does on the slow ones.
The Fratellis, Here We Stand. I don’t hear a lot of depth, but I do hear a lot of fun.
The Raconteurs, Consolers of the Lonely. The sophomore effort sounds like it was recorded by a real band, and results in an album I think I like better than Icky Thump.
Coldplay, Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends. I’m not sure what this band did to piss everyone off, but I like this one and can actually hear what Brian Eno brought to the table.
If you are fans of these artists, I can recommend all of these albums.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Celebrating America VI
"You don't like me," she said.
"I hardly know you."
"Don't worry, you never will."
"There goes another bubble, iridescent but ephemeral."
- The Doomsters, Ross Macdonald
“You again?”
“That’s right.”
“Don’t you have to charge me or release me?”
“Not for another sixty-eight hours.”
“Aren’t you violating my constitutional rights?”
“Constitutional rights have been waived for this one.”
- L.A. Confidential, James Ellroy
"I hardly know you."
"Don't worry, you never will."
"There goes another bubble, iridescent but ephemeral."
- The Doomsters, Ross Macdonald
“You again?”
“That’s right.”
“Don’t you have to charge me or release me?”
“Not for another sixty-eight hours.”
“Aren’t you violating my constitutional rights?”
“Constitutional rights have been waived for this one.”
- L.A. Confidential, James Ellroy
Celebrating America V
Stevie Wonder, singing live on Sesame Street? Does it get any better than that?
By the way - an amazing, astonishing performance.
Celebrating America IV
A letter, written July 3, 1776, from John Adams to Abigail Adams.
(Courtesy of intense, anxious, hopeful Sheila O'Malley).
(Courtesy of intense, anxious, hopeful Sheila O'Malley).
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Celebrating America
...Chuck Berry, Quentin Tarantino, Uma Thurman, John Travolta...
Personally, I can't think of any better way to celebrate this crazy, contradictory country of ours.
Personally, I can't think of any better way to celebrate this crazy, contradictory country of ours.
Jeff's Jukebox: B-3
B-3: 96 Tears, ? and the Mysterians
Immortal. I loved this song from the first time I heard it, which if memory serves was sometime in the mid-sixties, sitting in the back seat of the car.
Video credit: capnquirky
Skyscrapers and Earthquakes
A fascinating post at BLDG BLOG about the technique used in a Taipei skyscraper to counter the impact of an earthquake.
More on the damper here.
More on the damper here.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Some Girls - The Stones' Last Masterpiece
The Rolling Stones’ Some Girls, released in the summer of 1978, probably benefits more from perspective than any other great album of the rock era. The album was a hit when it was released, and received good reviews. But even the good reviews were tinged with a bit of melancholy, a recognition that, even though Some Girls was a damn good album, it just wasn’t quite up to past glories.In his monthly consumer guide, Robert Christgau gave it an “A,” but took some shots at the band, even while giving them a great review:
…Jagger takes a relatively direct approach, and if he retains any credibility for you after six years of dicking around, there should be no agonizing over whether you like this record, no waiting for tunes to kick in…”
Writing in Rolling Stone, Paul Nelson also praised the album, but was careful to draw a line between it and the Stones’ great works of the past, particularly Exile on Main Street:
Thus far, the critical line claims that Some Girls is the band's finest LP since its certified masterpiece, Exile on Main Street, and I'll buy that gladly. What I won't buy is that the two albums deserve to be mentioned in the same breath. (Listen to "Tumbling Dice" or, better yet, "Let It Loose" from the earlier record, and then to the exemplary "Beast of Burden" or "When the Whip Comes Down" from this year's model, and tell me that the passion, power and near-awesome completeness of the 1972 performances are in any way matched by the new ones.) Instead, Some Girls is like a marriage of convenience: when it works–which is often–it can be meaningful, memorable and quite moving, but it rarely sends the arrow straight through the heart. "It took me a long time to discover that the key to acting is honesty," an actor told the anthropologist Edmund Carpenter. "Once you know how to fake that, you've got it made."
There's no doubt that Nelson’s estimation of the album is absolutely brilliant, not to mention prescient. What Nelson heard on Some Girls were the first hints (maybe not the first, but certainly the most effective) that the Stones were in transition. The worst of Keith’s drug days were behind him, and the boys were getting too old to keep on playing rebels. In short, the Stones were on their way to becoming a bona fide corporate entity, one fully capable of playing expert, entertaining rock and roll on demand (most of the time). But even though there have been some good-to-great Stones albums since 1978, and many great (and certainly more consistent) shows, what is gone now is the sense that the Stones matter. Like Elvis in Vegas, they’re just there, and that’s about all she wrote. That Nelson could sense this happening, even on an album as good as Some Girls, is just another testament to his greatness as a critic.
But I come here to praise the Stones, not to bury them. Because while there is little doubt that both Christgau and Nelson were right, with the benefit of thirty years, one has to wonder whether they were being entirely fair. It’s only natural to compare an artist’s work with that which preceded the current product, but consider for a moment what that meant when the subject at hand was The Rolling Stones. As Dave Marsh wrote in the 1979 edition of The Rolling Stone Record Guide, “…the Rolling Stones in their initial incarnation were the greatest white blues and R&B band that ever was. This is not legend; it is fact.” Yet, after that auspicious beginning, the best was yet to come. From 1968 through 1972, the Stones released three albums that are rightly considered among the greatest of the rock era: Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed, and Exile on Main Street (which, to this day, remains my all-time favorite album). They also released one that wasn’t far behind that incredible trio, Sticky Fingers.
In 1978, the fact that Some Girls didn’t quite match up to those classics (although I would argue that it does) seemed like a big deal. In 2008, when we now know that the Stones have outlasted all contenders, that they would never again release an album with the kick of Some Girls, the distinction doesn’t seem to matter as much.
Put simply, Some Girls deserves to be called a masterpiece. In interviews of that era, Jagger liked to make fun of Johnny Rotten and the punks, but it is clear that he took their derision as a challenge. One can almost imagine what must have been going through his and Keith's minds as the band came together in the fall of 1977 to record the new album. “F*ck this sh*t,” one can imagine Jagger saying to the band. The punks aren’t covering any ground that we didn’t do better back in 1965, and we can play better than they can.” Whether that really happened or not is anyone’s guess, but it only took one listen to figure out that Some Girls was a much different album than its immediate predecessors, It’s Only Rock and Roll and Black and Blue. The band playing on Some Girls was a hard-edged, guitar driven rock band - angry, loud, and funny all at the same time.
In 1978, songs like “Respectable,” “When the Whip Comes Down,” and “Lies” may have seemed like pale shadows of the great songs that preceded them, but over the years they have grown in stature, and now sound just great on a mix tape along with “Jumping Jack Flash,” “Brown Sugar,” and “Honky Tonk Women.” “Miss You,” the album opener, was less the Stones’ nod to disco than it was proof positive that they could still sound modern – not unlike “Radio Nowhere” on Bruce Springsteen’s Magic. “Just My Imagination” is the greatest Motown cover version of all-time, and “Shattered” is just a great, great song – both tribute to and criticism of New York City, at the same time. Keith Richards’ “Before They Make Me Run” is his best Stones song, and “Beast of Burden” is the Stones at their soul man best. The only song that sounds out of place is the Buck Owens tribute, “Far Away Eyes.” It’s not a bad song, but neither did it belong on this album.
And then, of course there is the infamous “Some Girls,” which managed to offend feminists, Jesse Jackson, and roughly half of the western world. And as Mick Jagger so aptly put it at the time, “f*ck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.” Because as Nelson wrote at the time, “…this song may be a sexist and racist horror, but it’s also terrifically funny and strangely desperate in a manner that gets under your skin and makes you care. On "Some Girls," Mick Jagger sounds like he's not only singing like Bob Dylan, but about Bob Dylan: "I'll give ya a house back in Zuma Beach/And give you half of what I owe."
And there you have it. A great album, and one that defined its era just as well as This Year’s Model or Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols.
Great Olympic Moments - John Akii-Bua
The story of John Akii-Bua is one of triumph and tragedy. It is one that both defines the Olympic ideal, and exposes it as a lie.
At Munich in 1972, Akii-Bua (to this day, the only Ugandan to win an Olympic gold medal in track and field) came out of nowhere to win the gold medal in the 400 Intermediate Hurdles (an event which later would be made famous in America by Edwin Moses). From his New York Times obituary:
In 1972, after only one international competition, Akii-Bua arrived at the Summer Olympics in Munich, Germany. His opposition in the 400-meter hurdles included Dave Hemery of Britain, the world record-holder and defending Olympic champion, and Ralph Mann, an American. His only pair of running shoes was two years old, and one shoe was missing a spike.
But he was built ideally (6 feet 2 inches and 170 pounds), and he had trained with frightening intensity. In the six months before the Olympics, his training had included wearing a vest weighted with 25 pounds in lead as he ran 1,500 meters over five hurdles that were 42 inches high -- the hurdles for his race were 36 inches. He did four sets of those repetitions, twice a day, every day.
He won the Olympic gold medal in 47.82 seconds, a world record, leaving the silver medalist, Mann (48.51 seconds), and the bronze medalist, Hemery (48.52), six meters behind. Then he ran a victory lap and jumped over the hurdles again.
Watching that race was one of my family's favorite moments in that Olympiad. The pure joy that Akii-Bua felt after his victory radiated off of the television screen.
Unfortunately, that would be the high-water mark of Akii-Bua's track career. Akii-Bua was a member of the Lango tribe, one of the primary targets of the Idi Amin regime. Thus, while Akii-Bua was too prominent a figure to be jailed (or assassinated), from that point on he was never allowed to leave the country to participate in an international meet. In 1977, he described his dilemma in a Sports Illustrated piece titled "Political Prisoner."
A member of the Lango tribe that Idi Amin , the sinister Ugandan dictator, has been purging, Akii-Bua described his situation to Bill Brubaker of The Miami News in an overseas phone call last week.
While his African and American friends have feared for his life, Akii-Bua told Brubaker that he was in no danger. He is a policeman in Kampala, and he does not want to leave Uganda permanently because he has 15 family members to support.
"I may run no more," Akii-Bua said to Brubaker . "I have still been training but I can't get any competition anymore. It's because of the National Council of Sports. They won't give me clearance to compete out of Uganda . They just don't want me to go. They want me to carry a coach with me. I don't need a coach. We have only one national coach, and if I take him, the rest of the athletes in the country—about 30 of them—will stay without a coach."
Apprised of his friends' concern, Akii-Bua said, "I'm glad they care about me. Naturally I'm disappointed. Sometimes I think of quitting track forever, but I think Edwin Moses [world-record setter in last week's AAU meet, page 24] needs me. Only I can challenge him, nobody else. In my spare time I don't do anything. I just sit and listen to records. You know, Diana Ross ."
Akii-Bua survived the Idi Amin years, but at great cost:
In 1979, with Tanzanian troops about to capture Kampala, Akii-Bua, his wife and their three children fled to Kenya.
As a police official under Amin, he was jailed there for three weeks. He was almost shipped back to Uganda to almost certain death until the West German Embassy and Puma, the German sports-shoe company whose shoes he wore, helped him get his freedom.
He sent his wife and children to West Germany and soon joined them there.
But first he returned to Kampala to check on his family and home. He learned that five brothers and a sister had been killed (his father, a county chief who died in 1965, had 43 children with eight wives). He found his house destroyed by bombs. It had been looted. His Olympic gold medal was gone.
Akii-Bua died in 1997, and was given a state funeral. His performance in 1972 remains one of the greatest Olympic track and field moments.
At Munich in 1972, Akii-Bua (to this day, the only Ugandan to win an Olympic gold medal in track and field) came out of nowhere to win the gold medal in the 400 Intermediate Hurdles (an event which later would be made famous in America by Edwin Moses). From his New York Times obituary:
In 1972, after only one international competition, Akii-Bua arrived at the Summer Olympics in Munich, Germany. His opposition in the 400-meter hurdles included Dave Hemery of Britain, the world record-holder and defending Olympic champion, and Ralph Mann, an American. His only pair of running shoes was two years old, and one shoe was missing a spike.
But he was built ideally (6 feet 2 inches and 170 pounds), and he had trained with frightening intensity. In the six months before the Olympics, his training had included wearing a vest weighted with 25 pounds in lead as he ran 1,500 meters over five hurdles that were 42 inches high -- the hurdles for his race were 36 inches. He did four sets of those repetitions, twice a day, every day.
He won the Olympic gold medal in 47.82 seconds, a world record, leaving the silver medalist, Mann (48.51 seconds), and the bronze medalist, Hemery (48.52), six meters behind. Then he ran a victory lap and jumped over the hurdles again.
Watching that race was one of my family's favorite moments in that Olympiad. The pure joy that Akii-Bua felt after his victory radiated off of the television screen.
Unfortunately, that would be the high-water mark of Akii-Bua's track career. Akii-Bua was a member of the Lango tribe, one of the primary targets of the Idi Amin regime. Thus, while Akii-Bua was too prominent a figure to be jailed (or assassinated), from that point on he was never allowed to leave the country to participate in an international meet. In 1977, he described his dilemma in a Sports Illustrated piece titled "Political Prisoner."
A member of the Lango tribe that Idi Amin , the sinister Ugandan dictator, has been purging, Akii-Bua described his situation to Bill Brubaker of The Miami News in an overseas phone call last week.
While his African and American friends have feared for his life, Akii-Bua told Brubaker that he was in no danger. He is a policeman in Kampala, and he does not want to leave Uganda permanently because he has 15 family members to support.
"I may run no more," Akii-Bua said to Brubaker . "I have still been training but I can't get any competition anymore. It's because of the National Council of Sports. They won't give me clearance to compete out of Uganda . They just don't want me to go. They want me to carry a coach with me. I don't need a coach. We have only one national coach, and if I take him, the rest of the athletes in the country—about 30 of them—will stay without a coach."
Apprised of his friends' concern, Akii-Bua said, "I'm glad they care about me. Naturally I'm disappointed. Sometimes I think of quitting track forever, but I think Edwin Moses [world-record setter in last week's AAU meet, page 24] needs me. Only I can challenge him, nobody else. In my spare time I don't do anything. I just sit and listen to records. You know, Diana Ross ."
Akii-Bua survived the Idi Amin years, but at great cost:
In 1979, with Tanzanian troops about to capture Kampala, Akii-Bua, his wife and their three children fled to Kenya.
As a police official under Amin, he was jailed there for three weeks. He was almost shipped back to Uganda to almost certain death until the West German Embassy and Puma, the German sports-shoe company whose shoes he wore, helped him get his freedom.
He sent his wife and children to West Germany and soon joined them there.
But first he returned to Kampala to check on his family and home. He learned that five brothers and a sister had been killed (his father, a county chief who died in 1965, had 43 children with eight wives). He found his house destroyed by bombs. It had been looted. His Olympic gold medal was gone.
Akii-Bua died in 1997, and was given a state funeral. His performance in 1972 remains one of the greatest Olympic track and field moments.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)