I played hockey yesterday. Assuming you can call skating around by yourself and slapping the puck around hockey.
Someone asked the other day if a hockey season didn’t happen would anyone notice. In the culture at large the answer seems to be no, and in my personal life I haven’t noticed that much either. But there is something strangely lacking, something not quite right.
Those who say NASCAR racing is boring don’t watch it. Today’s race was incredibly dramatic. After today’s race there were only three races left in the season, with the championship up for grabs. Championship contenders were dropping like flies, leaving room for guys farther down the list, like my favorite driver, Mark Martin.
Martin dominated the race, leading the most laps and being there at the end to win it. But with about 20 laps to go the caution came out, and everyone but Martin decided to pit. Bad move. The lapped car of Greg Bifle got in the mix, Martin was shuffled back and the racing got pretty wild. Dale Earnhardt Jr., the guy poised to take over the championship run, tried to squeeze in front of rookie Carl Edwards. He didn’t have the room and spun out, smacking the wall and ending his day.
Yet another caution. Martin had a chance to make up for his mistake as everyone pitted again. The green flag came out and the three-wide racing started. Martin got through some close calls and set his sights on Jimmie Johnson, the first place car. Where did Johnson come from?
It’s the story of the weekend. Tragedy struck the Hendrick Motorsports Team (notice it’s Hendrick, with no ‘s’) last weekend, when Rick Hendrick lost his son, his brother, and his twin nieces in a plane crash (three other racing crew members also died). Rick Hendrick owns the Jimmie Johnson team, as well as three others, so you can imagine the emotion when Johnson held off Martin in the final laps and won the race. Victory lane was literally quiet after Johnson climbed out of the car.
To make things even more interesting, Jimmie Johnson’s win today was his third straight, helping him climb his way back into the championship race. And you call that boring?
But what was really bizarre is that the announcers never specifically referred to the tragedy. Never once did I hear them explain that members of the Hendrick Motorsports Team died in plane crash the previous weekend. They talked about tragedy, they talked about an emotional press conference, they talked about how fitting it would be for Johnson to win, they talked about funerals, they talked about how amazing it is that the Hendrick teams still came through — but they never said what happened.
What is up with that? Is it that hard to talk about death?
The past few weeks I’ve been watching a lot of NASCAR. Now I’ve been a racing fan for a while, but it’s been a long time since I’ve consistently planted myself on the couch and watched entire races. Lately I’ve been doing that, and I’m not sure if it’s laziness, a string of cool races, drama on the track or what.
Mini-golf has been elevated to an art and a science in Minneapolis and St. Paul, respectively. Both the Walker Art Center and the Science Museum of Minnesota are offering mini-golf courses for the summer. The Science Museum’s nine-hole course teaches about water and how it shapes our world, while the Walker’s 10-hole course is created from different pieces of art.
The Walker includes a bit of mini-golf history (at least on their web site) from the book Miniature Golf (Recollectibles), including the tidbit that a Los Angeles course in the 1930s “featured a live bear cub as an obstacle; course owners trained it to go after balls by dipping them in honey.”
Slate sits trackside at the French Grand Prix, revealing that the international Formula One racing series isn’t as hoity-toity as you might think. Except for the multiple languages, the fans would fit in at any NASCAR event. Though there are major differences, including the open-wheel cars, less passing, little “swapping paint” (you try rubbing metal fenders with your punctureable rubber tires sticking out like that), and most notably, left and right turns, which the writer notes is where the real driving happens (NASCAR take note).
Of course Sunday’s pit crew brawl really solidifies NASCAR’s good ol’ boy American image, something you probably won’t see in Formula One (then again, those Europeans sure know how to have a good soccer riot). And if you’re still anti-NASCAR, check out the conversion of this Sports Illustrated writer.
Sports Illustrated’s Pete McEntegard writes about the process of tracking down retired pros for the magazine’s annual Where Are They Now issue, including William “Refrigerator” Perry. Now a bricklayer, Perry enjoyed being back in the spotlight so much he even appeared on Fox’s Celebrity Boxing against Manute Bol.
“But when [Lance Armstrong’s] day was done, he was airlifted off the mountain directly to a massage, a meal and a good night’s sleep. … There is one Tour for the riders and another for the journalists. We all lose weight and occasionally lose our tempers during the race.” (Chicago Tribune, log-in required)
What used to be a good ol’ boys’ sport is quickly gaining popularity among women. 42 percent of NASCAR fans are women, more than the NFL or major league baseball.
Every few months I see articles popping up about that timeless playground sport, dodgeball. Here’s another one. Grown adults are starting leagues, tournaments and pick-up games and whipping rubber balls at each other. Dodgeball was the unofficial game of my youth group in high school, something we’d play religiously after every Wednesday night meeting.
I’d probably get trounced if I played now, but it’d still be fun.
The article also mentions an upcoming Ben Stiller movie, Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story. It also stars Stephen Root of Office Space fame, which is just too perfect. It opens June 18th.
Well, on the plus side I can watch Sara Groves perform at the EPA Convention on Wednesday night without worrying about missing game 7 of the Red Wings/Calgary series. The Wings just lost in overtime. Season over. Jordon Cooper’s probably happy.
It would have been nice to see the Wings come back, at least to face a game 7, after losing captain Steve Yzerman in game 5. If missed the game, Yzerman took a puck to the face. It wasn’t pretty. There wasn’t any blood, but his reaction was more than enough. When the puck hit him he launched his stick and gloves and dropped to the ice with his hands on his face. He immediately popped back up and tried to make it to the bench, then fell again and started kicking violently. Thinking of the scene again makes me shudder.
Yzerman suffered broken bones in his face and a scratched cornea. The good news is that he didn’t lose an eye and he’ll recover completely. The bad news is his hockey career is up in the air. The guy does turn 39 this week and has been playing hockey for 20 years. But he’s also the heart and soul of the Detroit Red Wings. It’s hard to imagine hockey in Hockeytown without him.
Here’s to another year of playoff hockey.