"Treasure Hunters"

No, this isn't an editorial about some new pop-slang referring to a sexual participant. Although, that would be an appropriate piece for this space (I still laugh when I hear the term "Cougar" used). Instead, this is about some new pop-show. "Treasure Hunters", is the latest addition to the reality-competition genre. The show, loosely based on the film "National Treasure", consists of a collection of teams following clues ostensibly based in historical fact. The sites of the competition provide an entertaining backdrop to the competition, much like "The Amazing Race", but even the addition of a slight bit of historical fact makes the show that much more interesting to watch. What makes the show really watchable though, is the makeup of the teams involved. Some represent organizations, such as the Air Force team, or the ex-CIA team, and others are more loosely organized, such as the "Southie Boy's" or the "Young Geniuses". The two most entertaining teams of all are the "Miss USA" team and the truly hysterical "Wild Hanlons", a family from Texas who isn't afraid to let you know it. I've seldom seen a group so quotable, or so challenged. For me, they make the show, with quotes such as, "We were arguin. We went and got somethin' to eat. It was my decision, and I think it was a damn good one.", or, "Let me see the decipherin' stuff again". The day they're eliminated from the show will be a sad one for entertainment. In the meantime, check it out their team bio and "Treasure Hunters", Monday nights on NBC.

American Soccer: Hopeless?

Much has been written about the course US soccer must take in the days since the hopeful bubble, created by success in 2002, burst. Some say we need a European coach and training methods. Others support sending our young talent overseas for seasoning in the highest international leagues. Both assertions are probably correct, but I think there is one thing that could improve the quality of US soccer talent for decades to come. Put international soccer on American television.

I, like most children living in suburban America, grew up playing soccer, basically since the time I could walk. After all, the "soccer mom" cliche was born in the United States. Soccer is generally the first sport played by American children. It's where we learn abot the tenuous balance between teamwork and competition, and physical coordination too. It is thought that early participation in such activities prepares us for life, and other sports.

Few competitive athletes in this country stick with this sport that so many adopt so early. There are numerous reasons for this phenomenon. Soccer players don't get the girl. Soccer players don't sign multi-million dollar contracts in the US, and outside of a four year cycle marked by the World Cup, they aren't on commercials. Yet, these are symptoms, not causes, for the lack of talent generated in a country rich in so many things, including young soccer players.

Growing up, I played just about every sport I could, whether organized or otherwise. When I played basketball, I mimicked Michael Jordan's turn around jumper. When I played football, I was Barry Sanders, trying to juke every player on the field. When I played baseball, I was Cal Ripken, agonizing over whether resting the bat-head on my shoulder work for me or not. And, when I played soccer, I was playing like some slightly older youth league player who grew up emulating another slightly older youth league player. Where do young American soccer players turn for inspiration? The role models, those with not only superb skill, but breathtaking creativity, such as Ronaldinho of Brazil, have been absent for America's soccer youth. The creation of the MLS is surely a valuable milestone in promoting soccer to the American audience and may ultimately be successful in keeping more young talent in the sport, but it's going to take exposure to international soccer to get this country on even footing with the great soccer powers of the world. When it comes to the World Cup, where players from around the globe assemble for the most watched event in sports, the US has to be more than technically flawless. They must be inspired.

Monkey's Humping Footballs

...and perhaps throwing shit at each other...that's what I'm living in right now. Perhaps I've just woken up from my cash enduced slumber, but the pain of the sight is nearly unbearable. It's as if not only have the monkeys been rabidly molesting the pigskin, but they've been given official credentials to do so, "Halt, I must hump this football at a medium pace in the name of the corporation...god save the CEO!" The truly maddening realization comes when it's uncovered that monkeys humping footballs account for a major portion of the GNP. As such, interaction with this NFL licensed beastial juggernaut cannot be avoided or tuned out. But, should it be taken head on? I'm not so sure that's a good idea. They hold the objects of their affections jealously, and attempts to separate the two in hopes of creating a more constructive existence can be a dangerous proposition. What then can the rest of us do to cut through the mounds of monkey shit in pursuit of a successful career? Must our sanity be sacrificed at their alter? I'm open to suggestions. The status quo is untenable.

PetitionSpot

And I thought this blog was proof that I had too much time on my hands. Well, my discovery of PetitionSpot has convinced me that there are many others with far more time than I. I'm sure this site started out as a high-minded marriage of technology and activism, but such idealism obviously discounted the full range of topics that pass for offensive in this country. Here's a little taste of how ridiculous it can get:

"Gatorade has recently launched a commercial showing the US Men's Soccer team in various situations while the traditional baseball song "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" plays in the background, the commercial concludes with a title screen "it's a whole new ballgame." This commercial is a direct assault on America's Pastime and the baseball community needs to let it be known that such actions will not be tolerated by suspending the purchase of Gatorade products until a full apology is issued by the company." More...

Random Trivia From The World Cup

- Poland is roughly the size of New Mexico, yet has a population of 36 million.
- Germany touts over 200 types of sausage.
- Equador uses the U.S. dollar as their national currency.
- Citizens of the Ivory Coast are referred to as "Ivorians".
- The Netherlands, also referred to as Holland, is a constitutional monarchy.

FIFA World Cup 2006

The largest sporting event in the world has kicked off today in Germany, with a 4-2 victory for Germany over Costa Rica. Despite the event's traditional lack of attention in the U.S., I highly recommend watching this event. No cup in recent memory has included so many stars, and so many talented teams. Here are some commercials to get the excitement flowing:

ESPN: Your Football Is Our Soccer:

Gatorade: Is It In You?

Nike: Joga Bonita

Nike: Ronaldinho

Addidas: Impossible is Nothing

Addidas: Impossible is Nothing Part II

Extreme...extremely stupid

The surf today is downright lethal, a combination of momentum, a wicked break, and sheer volume. About every half hour a set arrives, announced by a sound I can only liken to dynamite. Proof of such is evident in that not an eye remains on a book, or a mixed drink for that matter, as they arrive. This particular set caught my attention with a pointed bang. Again, like dynamite, it sounded as if someone was blowing up the beach. I'm sure the Texans afoot thought it could only be the doing of Al Queda. As the spray from the first wave subsided, I saw a lone cowboy atop a jetski. And what a daring cowboy he was, zipping amongst titans taken the form of waves. Just in time for the second wave in the set to take its characteristic "Rip Tide" form, he dipped to its foot, surely drunk on the fact that he was so brave in front of a crowd of so many. Spurred on, he climbed the wave at an angle. I could only assume he was going to crest the wave with a jump, finding safety on the other side. Instead, he chose to turn perpendicular to the wave's growing momentum as he reached its white crest. And here he rode, not powered by the prepulsion of a jet ski, but the much greater force of a massive wave. In an instant, one of those terrifyingly exhilarating moments, he traveled an amazing distance down the beach atop this wave only for the wave to throw him free like an angry bull. Now airborne, the rider surely, finally, saw the trecherous fate in front of him. He was thrown well past any hint of water, clutching to the jet ski, now his wet blanket in this ordeal. Even before he landed, people across the beach began sprinting in the direction of his landing. They were out there for a good hour, huddled in a circle, with body language that betrayed the seriousness of the situation. He was eventually carried off the beach on a backboard. I'm not sure the extent of his injuries, but it couldn't have been good. Breathtaking moments seem to come in the company of examples of our mortality in greater frequency than those in its absence.

Technorati Tags: Jet Ski, Seadoo, Mexico, Cabo San Lucas, Accidents, Stunts

"Texan"

The term Texan is no longer monopolized by its meaning as an origin. It is true that Texans are of the state of Texas. A hearty bunch to be sure, they are of the only state that can claim the right of legal sucession, a stipulation negotated in its inclusion in The Union. The state is home to "America's Team", although I'm not quite sure that was an agreed upon moniker, those fans of every other team but the Dallas Cowboys finding it distasteful. It's also home to the "8th Wonder of the World", the Houston Astrodome. Again, it is likely that most outside of its generally vicinity disagree with the use of this phrase. But they are a grand people, in that everything they purvey must be grand in imagination and stature. It is such a truism that I've found the term Texan has far surpassed the original intent of the word, to describe the origin of a people. For that, these people deserve credit. It's an awfully rare feat. Yes, every culture (it is a culture) has its recognizable traits, but few to their degree. It goes beyond the accent, a cowboy hat, and boots, and travels onto outspoken, austentacious, and downright loud. Think of it. Upon hearing a public exclamation with these three traits what is your first thought about the stranger from whom it originated? I can only vouch for my experience, but time and again my assumption is that they are indeed Texan. This isn't to say that I am always right, because I am not. I've actually been proven wrong on a number of occasions, once this very day. And these are the instances at the heart of my point. Despite being wrong, I was still right. These people were not of Texas, but they were distinctly Texan.

Update: It would only be fair to add that Texans are also some of the quickest people to act in an emergency. Just today I saw a Texan quickly come to the aid of a couple of drunk people at the pool, one having skinned a knee, the other on the verge of some sort of serious injury. The Texan provided aid to the injured, and guidance to the inebriated. It was a charitable thing to do, while others simply looked on.