sport


7
Oct 26

I crashed my bike again

I’m fine.

Just a perfect, beautiful, lovely, chamber of commerce day. The sort of day you want all the time. The sort of day that you know is really a marker. The sort of day that will stick around, for a while, if you’re lucky. The sort of day you know isn’t going to last.

But I got ahead of things, and so I found a way to sneak outside and enjoy it for a whole hour.

I invited my lovely bride out for a bike ride, so that I could chase her for 45 minutes and then slowly drift away from her, which has been the way it has worked this year.

After the turnaround, and before I got dropped, I managed a few photographs. We totally posed this.

And here’s me saying goodbye to her, because, for most of the rest of the way, she would be in the distance, and then gone, and I could just sit there and pedal into the wind with my thoughts and playing the rest of my week’s work out in my head. I wonder if I would go faster if I did that less. I wonder if I did that more I’d go slower, or if the work would be better. I didn’t have time to ask her, because soon after this, she was gone.

What happened next was, well, exactly what I said. The headwinds caught me, I sat up, started thinking about stuff and just casually pedaled my way home. I counted the vehicles that passed me dangerously. I’d just been thinking about how I’d gotten away from using that as a bit in class, and I should get back to that. Today, there was the commercial service van that almost hit The Yankee and gave me a little more room. Then there was the oversized black GMC pickup, which almost hit me, And then the white Chevy Silverado which almost clipped me while trying to save two seconds to immediately turn in front of me. I’m not sure why your two seconds are worth risking another person’s life, but that’s how it works.

Today, all of that happened within 36 minutes.

But the real fun was later! I completed much of the planned route, returned to the neighborhood, and then lost my back wheel. I felt it go to the right, felt me go to the left, and felt me hitting the ground. Heard myself saying “Ow! Ow!”

I landed on my surgically repaired shoulder, which is fine. I landed on my knee, which is scratched. I landed on my elbow and forearm, which has some nice road rash. For some reason I couldn’t get up in my bike shoes, so I kicked them off, and stood up, trying not to get a leg cramp at the same time. Looked around, surprised that no one saw this. Picked up my bike, where the left handlebar had gotten wedged beneath the top tube, the front wheel cranked all the way over. I couldn’t get undo that. Also, the handlebar was pushing the rear brake line, so the whole of my bike was shut down.

So I carried it, bleeding, the short distance home. I was very close.

Put my stuff away, inspected my helmet and was pleased to see I didn’t smack the ol’ noggin. I celebrated by hammering free the headset from the top tube, checked the wheels and the brakes, and then went inside.

Cleaned my wounds, took an angry, painful, shower. We did the first aid routine. Gauze, bandages, marveled that all of the bleeding parts are right on the bending parts of my limbs. So we made use of some ACE bandages. Then, I got ready to go to class.

Our department had an open house today, so the floor was filled with students. I tried to stay out of the way, hoping no one would bump into me. Already, I’m a bit sore, and that’ll become a problem tomorrow and Friday, but also, see above.

In class, I had to apologize for sitting sideways, because we mummified my leg. Also, I had to apologize for being delayed with grading a few papers. That was supposed to get done this afternoon, but the day got away from me, as you might imagine.

This class was about fan identity. I do this whole lecture through the lens of being an Auburn man. I make fun of Georgia. I discussed social identity theory, role identity, and identity fusion theory, which is my favorite of the bunch. I show this video, as an example of a shared experience. I show them where I was in the video.

They were a bit interested in that one, because it is surreal. And it was surreal. (Also, I think, it is why I don’t like being in crowds.)

I talk about Warren St. John’s Rammer Jammer, which has some incredible anecdotes about fan sacrifice. I show them videos of the viral Roll Tide Willie guy. Some of them know of him, but one of the local stations did a nice little profile package on him, and it is entirely different.

While it is playing I’m trying to count the number of people I know who are that guy. More than one. He looks like a caricature, but he’s a real guy. And since I’ve been asking them to think of fans as a client rather than as being a fan themselves, it seems important to give the guy a little understanding.

I show a terrific NFL hype video, which won’t embed here, but does allow me to point out roughly all of the positive things we’ve been talking about.

As a test, I showed this video. It doesn’t really get laughs. I don’t know why.

After I gave them my big Go Vote speech we got out a few minutes early.

I drove home, called my mom to tell her I got her grandfather’s pocket watch working. Missed a turn and wound up way off course before I figured it out. Every nondescript field looks the same in total darkness.

Got home and learned that I’d bled through the bandage on my elbow. Bled into a white shirt. I could feel it during class. Didn’t want to make a scene. All of that blood will come out of the shirt, though. And it’s an old shirt, so that’s not a problem. But, I need to figure out how to clean the elbow of my sport coat. And now I get to figure out how sore I’ll be tomorrow, how much more sore I’ll be on Friday, and what Saturday might feel like.


11
Sep 26

This fine day

What a fine day this was! It was a fine day! And it followed on the heels of another fine day. Fine days all around, for everyone. You might have to seek out the parts that make a day so, but if you hunt long enough you’ll realize that you’re only making the parameters for your day, anyway, so may as well just get to it. Let the day come to you, which I do to much, and hope it’s fine, or fine the things that redeeming, wonderful, and rewarding in every day.

I’m going to try that one day. But not this day. This was a fine day all of its own accord.

But first, yesterday … I had to walk from the building where my office and some classes are to another building where I have a class. This was previously the sauna, but now it’s just the uncomfortably warm older person’s residence. The weather on the fourth floor of that building reflects what is going on outdoors, I was told. When it is hot, it is hot. Oh, the first three floors were nice and cool last week, but I am left to conclude they just ran out of duct work and insulation for the fourth and fifth floor. But, yesterday, because the temperatures have dipped every-so-slight, I only sweat through two layers of clothes.

In that class we discussed the diffusion of innovation theory. Started with agriculture! Bet you didn’t know that! See? A fine day for discovery. Some of the 19th century work that would go into Everett Rogers’ 1962 classic had to do with things like the spreading and adoption of information. Rogers then pulled on 508 studies across anthropology, sociologiy, education, medicine and agriculture and tried to explain how this theory can help us understand how and why new ideas and tech spread, and the conditions that help with that. Diffusion of innovation is such a beloved thing that a few years ago there was a 50th anniversary celebration for it. For a theory. I knew someone who traveled for that event.

We also talked about binary code and how that makes all of these digital things possible and how innovations can move beyond what designers or early adopters intend. I left them with something to think about. A question about a person becoming ones and zeroes themselves. I think I’m going to let them chew on that for another day or two before we get into it. It’ll make for an interesting mindbender when we get to Walter Benjamin.

On my way back to the office I got the third angle of the statue. From this perspective it looks like something sad has happened. Her face is just so. He’s gripping that hat a little too tight.

It still surprised me, to see that statue. I still think, when I catch it out of the corner of my eye, that it is two actual people in a particular moment.

One more wide perspective, next week, then we’ll start looking more closely at some of the figures’ details.

Last evening we got home and decided to sit outside and read. We know how to party! Also, our Sunday afternoon hot reading date is close to becoming a Thursday evening hot reading date, as well. When the sky is showing off, why not?

At some point, and I hope it is no time soon for selfish reasons, it’ll be cool enough to use the fire pit. Then we’ll be reading pages that smell of smoke and pulp. For other reasons, I am looking forward to using the fire pit, because we need to burn some twigs and branches.

I am reading Adin Dobkin’s Sprinting Through No Man’s Land, about the first Tour de France after the conclusion of World War I. Race designer, and editor of L’Auto, Henri Desgrange put on the most grueling tour possible. Dobkin makes the point a few times here that Desgrange’s ideal of a Tour winner was still coming into focus, even after a dozen races and four years without La Grande Boucle during the Great War. Some of these guys were still in the service. Some had just gotten out and had no time to train. They were going over some of the harshest terrain possible, less than a year after the war had ended, and even into new parts of France. This, for Desgrange, was an exploration, and a statement. While the point had, thus far, always been to sell more subscriptions and issues of L’Auto, it was also important to show France to Europe, and France to the French.

The thing about open road bike racing, even now, is that there is always a lot about the event we, the spectators, don’t know, even with cameras on motorocycles and drone shots and microwave technology. The empty spots in a given race are even more pronounced a century on. And, from here, maybe they don’t matter. But this does.

If there was enough credible source material, I’d read books on important and insightful anecdotes like this all day long.

Desgrange was a colorful and controversial character for many people, but at the same time the man knew what he was doing.

This evening we went to see my god-niece-in-law (just go with it) play her third varsity game at the college level. We saw her debut — she started! — recently and this game was also close enough to get to. Her mom was there. So were her grandparents. And also her godparents-in-law. That’s my in-laws, if you’re trying to keep this straight.

Before the game we met up for pizza with my in-laws and my uncle-in-law. (This gimmick gets confusing, but that’s what makes it fun.) We made it over to the game just as it was getting underway.

You know that old saying about missing the shots you don’t take? Our star player does not have that problem. Put the ball at her feet and she’s going to the cage. In this game her team got their first goal of the season. Then they put up a second goal. Guess who got the assist? And then, her teammates slipped her the ball twice more, and she got her first collegiate goal to tie the game 3-3.

The referee, let us say, enjoyed putting his stamp on the game, such that the other team were able to score with 29 seconds remaining in the game. When he wasn’t doing that, however, he was watching the emerging star do her thing.

We took a family photo after the game. They’d just lost a heartbreaker, they’re still looking for their first win. She was so happy. It’s still early yet, but it looks like maybe she’s found the right place for her — and isn’t that what all of this is about?

We went out for ice cream after. I told you, it was a fine day, just a fine day.


1
Sep 26

First day of classes

Oh it was hot today. The shade was a good four or five degrees cooler, and I was grateful for the shade. There’s a reason people move more slowly where I’m from, and this is that reason. In the old days, before forced air, a person would perish in the real heat. And sometimes they’d do that before they burst into flames. It’s true. You don’t read about it in books all that often, because the books would ignite too. Also, they ban some books there now, which is, we can all agree, just about the most offensive and dumbest performative thing you can do to a collection of ideas. Though the act of doing so does seem to create a lot of curiosity about the ideas contained therein. An inquisitive and rebellious human nature has that going for it.

There’s no reason at all I’m on that subject. It’s really hot here today. It was hot tonight. And humid. It was humid like home. And there were insects everywhere. But we’ll get to that.

Well, class. I have one class on Tuesday. This is Digital Media Processes, and its about the structure and concepts behind our social and digital media. And if that sounds fun, it is! But more is watching me stumble my way through trying to find an easy way to discuss what it means to discuss the conceptual nature of things without getting ahead of myself, which is precisely what I did today. Hey, it was my first day, too.

This was my 19th first day. One day, I’m going to be good at it. Maybe on the 20th first day.

This class was supposed to be in the same building where my office is, but it got moved for logistical reasons and so now I must walk some 450 feet feet and around a corner, to another building. There on the corner is a fiberglass statue. It is a statue of a man and woman in a deep hug and perhaps a passionate kiss, depending on where you are standing. And I’m wondering how many times I’ll walk by it before I think something like, “Awwww, that’s nice,” or “Get a room you guys!” Twice as I walked by it today, I had that sort of reaction to the statue. Let us chart, this semester, how long it takes for something to sink into both sides of my brain.

The class is on the fourth floor of this building, which is where they put all the great classes. All of the professors wind up in the hot box eventually, according to the campus tradition I just made up. They don’t, apparently, put air conditioning in that class. I was sitting at the desk in the front of the room sweating, and it wasn’t nerves. My jacket may have been too heavy for this early in the term. Every jacket is.

Anyway, we did Syllabus and Expectation Day. I talked about what the class was. You’re threading a needle there, I think. I need them to come back. I need them to think this is interesting or useful for them. I don’t want to overwhelm them on the first day. I also need to tell the story of the class and introduce myself and get them talking just a little bit, because they’re going to be doing that a lot this term. And I need to show them the course and a slide deck and I have 75 minutes to do all this.

Here’s my bet, I’ll get back in the groove of laying out and delivering a 75 minute class before I figure out that statue is a statue. Time my brain understands — despite how often I am late in arriving at places. I can still talk 60 seconds without a clock and wrap it up on the post, because of my time in broadcasting, and I haven’t been on the air since the Bush administration. Seventy-five minutes I’ll get adjusted to. My other class, which runs two hours and 45 minutes, I’ll get adjusted to. Can I manage both in one semester? Is that a statue, or are those real people, moving slowly? Very. Very. Slowly.

We traveled from our campus to another campus to see my god-niece-in-law (just go with it) play in her first university field hockey game. I’ve known this little girl her whole life and now we’re watching this young woman, on day two of being a college student, start for her field hockey team as a true freshman.

She’s playing as a forward. She’s been working hard and I’m sure she’ll continue to work hard. The game didn’t go their way this evening. There were two lightning delays. And then the bugs descended. Have you ever been to an event at night where that really fine mist plays on you? The sort where you can’t really see it, but you can feel it and it is so obviously there? And then you look up into the lights and you can see all of that rain dancing and reflecting the light? This was like that, only with insects. More insects than you need to see at one place. The team we were there to see were the visitors and the home team needs to invest in some bats. If they did, those bats would live well.

At one point, the insects were just falling on us. Not flying into us. Falling on us. We joked that despite the two lightning delays, and the continued lightning that the officials ignored in the second half, that they would only call the game if two more almost-plague-like events occurred.

The home team, who no one likes very much won the game. The Knights, who we were cheering on, will fight on again another day. Lane played 52 minutes in probably the most humid conditions any of those young women have ever experienced. It felt like home, honestly. We — her parents were there, as where her grandparents and her aunt and some of her cousins — were sweating just sitting, dodging insects, and cheering on the Knights. Field hockey players do a lot of running.

I have seen enough to see how she is progressing at the craft. When she’s had a few more games in hand I’ll be interested to hear her opinion on how this game is different than the high school version. I noticed a bit of that here, in this one example, and this sport is inscrutable to me. (I stood behind the goal of one of her last high school games and, to me, a soccer goalie, I could see the game a lot better and understand it a bit more, but there’s always a lot to learn.)

Started her first game! She is that rare young person that can peer into the long term. I suspect she’s going to soon come to realize that if she keeps working hard, even better things are going to come her way. Sometimes the ball lands at your feet. She’ll be ready to put it in the cage.

Finally, since it is the first day of the month, I did all of the regular first-day-of-the-month things. I cleaned my desktop. I cleaned the downloads. I emptied the computer’s trash bin. I updated my boilerplates. I updated the spreadsheet where I keep site stats. (Doesn’t everyone do that?) Last month had the most visits in the 22-year history of the site. More than a quarter of a million! I don’t know why you’re all here, I’m grateful for every one of you that isn’t a bot. I’m glad you came back. I hope you’ll do it again.

Also, I updated the art on the front page of the site. This is another 10-photo collage from South Africa, at the Cape of Good Hope. Here’s the theme, but then go look. This will be here when you come back.

Those images will stay up for a month. I’ll update them again for October. Let’s all have a great time until then, shall we?

More tomorrow, including the second first day of classes.


12
Aug 26

I can see mulch and top soil again

What a fine day. Productive and rewarding in several senses, but not in all of them. One can’t be productive in every sense. We weren’t designed for that. How else would we have developed imagination, hope, and ambition? How else would we have ever learned to fly, go to space, develop life saving vaccines, study the planet and what we’re doing to it? If we could do everything all at once, how would we have internalized concepts like dreams, lists, and ways to judge our neighbors against our efforts? Someone had to have the idea of emulating the birds, and s/he and their ilk were scorned for generations, until one day it wasn’t a flight of fancy, it was a flight. And you couldn’t do that or go to space or any of our other marvels, really, without the ability to create and pursue lists. We’re talking about human pursuit here! You can’t pursue everything at once. The neighbors would stare and talk.

I hope not too many people are doing that around here, because we’ve given them something to judge of late. There’s a lot of weeding to be done, but it’s been so deliriously hot. The temperatures settled into the low 90s today, however, and I went outside in the morning and pulled things out of the ground for a while.

My first job was a summertime thing working for one of my teachers. She was a horticulturist, and she had a summer side hustle landscaping one of the big houses on the mountain. The husband was a surgeon. A plastic surgeon, I think. Or a heart surgeon. Something that set him up well enough to marry a woman who descended from old money. (People knew the family name.) It was a gorgeous house, made to look ancient by the stone work that didn’t come from our red clay hills. It had a commanding view of the city in the valley below, the city her family had left a few generations before. The city where her family name was on one of the skyscrapers downtown, which you could see standing at their sink, or at their pool, or in any part of the house that looked to the northwest. They had a Rolls Royce Phantom 2 in the garage, giant oil paintings of themselves in the foyer that was, itself, bigger than any house I’d ever seen. And they had landscaping needs that meant after we’d worked our way across the whole of the yard it was time to go back to the other side and start again. I was in the 8th grade and it was incredibly hot and that job taught me a lot, namely that I didn’t want to do that kind of work. My teacher also taught me about Tracy Chapman that summer. Everyone knew Fast Car, but she talked about that debut album and the followup, Crossroads and how somehow that had inspired her to go into the Peace Corps. That didn’t make sense at the time, but I guess I can see it now.

Anyway, I was thinking about that today, pulling weeds in my own flowerbeds, stuffing lawn bags and sweating and listening to Tracy Chapman. I was also hoping none of the neighbors would walk by, notice me doing all that and giving me the nod of disapproval.

“About time he got around to that.”

“The last owners would have never.”

“No they would not.”

Yeah, well, they had kids and I’m guessing the children got sent out to do their share of the work. Or they hired someone. We’ve done that. It’s been … spotty. Sometimes great. Sometimes aggressive. Sometimes questionable.

Anyway, one man did walk by and, even across the yard, you could hear that he was on the phone. I paused to listen, wondering if he’d say “He’s actually doing it. I know. I know! No really, he is!”

I didn’t get it all today. I don’t know that I can, or want to get it all. Pretty much the entire Tracy Chapman catalog is great, much of it peerless, but it would need to be much larger for me to get of this weeding finished. Plus, there’s other work to be done. But there are things on the southern side of the house that I didn’t want to get choked out by undesirables, so I did that for a while, until it was time to come in and cool off. Because while it was only 88 degrees, I still managed to do a credible sweat test this morning. But two hours, noon, 88 degrees, and three comically large bags of now dead green things are ready to be disposed of. The bulk of the work on the south side of the house is done. I could still probably pull weeds for another hour there, plus a good 20 minute weed-eating session. But enough is enough.

Also, we had afternoon plans.

A while back we met a man at a conference who runs this development program for kids where soccer is the entryway, but they’re ultimately working to create scenarios where preschool through high school kids and beyond can build healthy bodies and minds. They have an indoor park, outdoor fields and people show up for the soccer, but find a full slate of programming and services for their community. It sounds amazing and so today we went to see the operation.

There was some high school pick-up soccer underway on their indoor pitch. No one invited me to play, thank goodness. We saw the rest of their facilities, which are lovely and growing. It’s not a community center, it’s more than that. We talked with the people that run the place for about 90 minutes. They’re six years in and still growing and doing some great work. It’s not just sport. Sport gets kids in the door, but then there is programming that helps the children learn about things like nutrition, interpersonal skills, money management, confidence building, and so on. They aren’t trying to build soccer players, the goal is to help kids in ways that matter on a real and human level. It’s quite charming, they’re very passionate about it, and it’s easy to see why.

Sport, as we talk about in classes a lot, means a lot more than just what happens on the field. In one class I teach a section on the real values of youth sport — fair play, collaboration, health, socialization, discipline, rules, respect, etc… — and that’s what this organization is after, too. What’s really interesting, to me, when I talk about those life lessons with other people that played youth sports, even college students who aren’t that far removed from it themselves, they quickly see how it helped them. We don’t always realize it at the time, but it is apparent in retrospective. It is obvious the value we can offer people. It is a mystery there aren’t more deliberate programs just like that.

And when you compare that to the infamous travel ball experience … no contest.

Stuff on the site I’d like to do, since I mentioned it … There are two or three of the old running projects I’d like to return to, and I will. I have to wrap up the local markers project. Easy enough, and that’s the one I combine with bike rides anyway. When the weather turns. I want to return to the happy habit of scanning photos from old books. It’s time intensive, and that’s the problem, but ultimately it entertains me and makes this place look, determined to follow ancient thing.

Another thing I’d like to do more is diving into old newspaper clippings. It’s a great way to learn about a place, or remember about a place. But it seems odd to do that about places where I no longer live. And the place where I do live doesn’t have a wealth of digitized newsprint online. This could devolve into a “where do you belong?” paragraph, but this is Wednesday and while all of my projects on the site ideally would have a day of the week, roughly, the old existential issue is not a Wednesday item. (Wednesdays are for markers, if you’ll recall, and they will be so once again.

These projects one need only invest the time and I say the thing I always say to myself, “After so and so … then you can do that.” And that never changes, but it at least has the added advantage of being frustrating.

Tomorrow, back to the classwork. If I can bend my fingers to the keyboard.


24
Jun 26

The adidas Foundation’s ‘Power of Sport Talks’

Got up this morning and drove to the train station. It’s about an hour drive to where we wanted to be and for the first half hour we were right on the cusp of arriving in time to catch our train, or miss it. But after that first bit the road opened up and we made good time, arriving with four whole minutes to spare. Destination: the big city.

The adidas Foundation was holding a series of presentations that they called “The Power of Sport Talks.” It was an ideas forum, in the United States with a wide array of speakers focusing on how sport can drive “meaningful social change.” They put together a nice program of nine speakers. It was well done. Here are a few highlights.

Renata Simril, president and CEO of the LA84 Foundation which funds youth sport programs, infrastructure projects, commissions research, and creates educational initiatives. The power of the playground, and sport, are great equalizers, she said, but it is at risk for today’s youth. That power, she said, is only transformational if ALL kids can access it. If children continue to play, she said, they can learn the lessons and skills that the game provides. That, she said, was how children can “develop the habits of civic life.”

Dr. Hajar Abulfazl‘s talk approached youth sport from a different perspective. She grew up playing soccer player in Kabul. Playing as a little girl in Afghanistan, she says, was an act of defiance, and her purpose. She made the national team, and became the captain, but ultimately saw the squad dissolved by national policy and her teammates fleeing the country. Abulfazl then led a national program for youth soccer, going door-to-door, creating a new league, enrolling thousands of girls across seven provinces. The success, she said, was watching teenaged girls walk onto the pitch, knowing they belonged there. It was a fight she’d waged within her own family, as well. She moved to the US in 2017, discovered Soccer Without Borders and now works with immigrants and refugees from more than a dozen nations.

Tom Farrey, from The Aspen Institute, talk about the power of sport to do nothing less than save democracy. Government, he notes, is the ultimate form of “We.” Farrey points out that sport teaches people to collaborate across differences, teaches competition, rules, consequences, develop people capable of leading, and as venues to learn how to bring people together and develop shared solutions.

He touches on The Playground Movement that led to thousands of municipal playgrounds, many still open today across the country. He also talked about the negatives that we can encounter in youth sport, tribalism ultimately leading to nationalism, financial inequities and so on. Here, he points out that sport is not guaranteed to do the things we’d like, it’s how we use them.

“Democracy is about relationships and sport is about relationships in action,” Farrey said.

Mary Connor, a former first round WUSA draft pick, told a poignant and powerful story about a non-profit failure, and how it changed her personal life and her work ever since. Connor, now the CEO of Common Goal, a nonprofit using soccer to shape a world where every young person has the opportunity to play, learn, and thrive. Her challenge: to turn toward hard things.

“Are you designing for belonging? Or are you just hoping it shows up? It won’t show up on its own.”

It was a powerful presentation. The adidas Foundation said they’ll be publishing these talks soon. That means you’ll also hear from Jasmyne Spencer, who spent 12 years in the NWSL and last year won the inaugural Northern Super League Championship with the Vancouver Rise. She talked about togetherness as “the real beauty of sport,” which perhaps we all have some inkling of, even if only in enjoying a win in a crowd.

Carly Heinz, director of development at Beyond Sport talked about discovering tennis during Serena Williams’ first grand slam run. After moving on from competitive collegiate tennis, and the identity that comes with being an athlete, Heinz realized that the lessons from sport can apply to all of the seasons of life, that sport has a power to draw things out of us and can provide safe spaces for people to grow.

Sport, Heinz says, shows us the value of authenticity, “and gives us the opportunity to return to ourselves, fully, courageously, and honestly.”

Melissa Otterbein, director of fitness and healthy lifestyles for Special Olympics International discussed the health disparities of people with intellectual disabilities (shorter life, higher risk of diabetes, heart health and depression) and encouraged participation.

Rachele Pojednic, of Stanford University and also the Chief Science Officer at Restore, studies longevity, and talks about how we live, how we die, and what the heart really is.

“Muscle is the tissue of longevity,” she said. “The question isn’t whether you’ll lose it, you will. The question is whether you’re building reserve now.”

Pojednic said muscle buys you time, and the ability to move through your own life on your terms. Pojednic talked about scholarship that shows “The most important metric for heart muscle outcomes, not heavy weights, not Pilates, not Zone 2 … consistency. Consistency, diligence is the whole game. None of this requires you are an athlete. It requires you act like one.”

“You need the discipline of a sport,” Pojednic said.

This was the adidas Foundation’s first such effort in the United States, and it was a terrific program beyond these few highlights, but there is always a lot more to discuss – and a lot more to move us – in these areas. Hopefully the next “Power of Sport Talks” isn’t too far away.

After the event we got to go on the roof to take in a nice view of the city. We met some of the speakers, some other sport leaders and other scholars.

It was a nice event, and we’re lucky to have gone to it. After, we sought out a place to watch some of the World Cup. I chose the World Cup on the Terrace, at the Perelman Performing Arts Center. They promised two screens and their view did not disappoint.

Food and drinks from a welcoming staff and you could look up at this during lulls in the game. Who needs two big screens when you’ve got this to stare at?

We watched two games and a bit of a third one there, enjoyed over-cooked hamburgers and the company of a small crowd of people also there to enjoy a perfect and low key evening.

Caught the subway to the train, the train to the car, and the car home.

By which point I was itchy. Couldn’t wait to get off my sports coat. Couldn’t wait to pull off my long sleeved button down. Couldn’t wait to see the poison ivy. I grabbed some yesterday while weeding. Didn’t realize it until it was too late. Didn’t wash it all off well, or quickly enough, or both. And now I’ll itch for a few weeks.

I’m not going to dwell on it here, I’m just going to be miserable, or pitiful, or both.