Tuesday


10
Mar 26

So where are we?

We have arrived at our intended destination. All went according to plane. Onto a plane quickly and easily. Flight departed on time and landed on time. Plane landed at the right airport. I actually slept a bit on the plane. You can’t count on all of those things, particularly the last one. But it happened — sleep, I mean — and now I am cured of jet lag.

I am a notoriously bad flier. I can feel jet lagged by staying in the same time zone. It also takes me a two or three days to feel like a human again after a trip begins (or ends). Some of this is surely about how much I sleep in the days leading up to a trip. Usually that’s not a lot, but I usually don’t sleep that much anyway. Then there’s the travel. The moving stuff around, making faces at the airport, dealing with luggage, the dehydration of the whole travel experience. The miracles of modern travel, whatever. And then I’m just not sleeping on a plane, even when you’re supposed to. Too much noise. Sleeping as you perceptibly move is a weird idea. I have stuff to read, or work to do. And there are movies and things. Then there’s that seat, which is not designed for someone with a spinal column. And always the guy in front of you. And the noise associated with the perceptible travel. Oh, I can make a lot of excuses for it all, but I’m just a lousy traveler. I just hope I can remain decent company.

And to stay awake the next day, which is today. This, Tuesday, Dé Máirt, or Purplasday or whatever day this actually is.

Never mind the when. You had to figure out the where. Here’s one more hint.

We walked around with friends, people from other states and from other countries as we all assembled and were trying to keep each other awake. I ran across one more hint on our pedestrian journey.

Later, we walked by this building and everyone pointed and laughed at this mural. I was too tired to understand the joke, so I took a photo so that I could figure it out later. I still have no idea why it was funny, but many smart people thought it was.

And we have successfully stayed awake on our first full day in Dublin. We are here to attend two conferences, which start tomorrow and Friday. I will be networking and presenting research and grading. I have a lot of that to do tomorrow. And that, somehow, will be how I bleed off the last of the jet lag.


3
Mar 26

The editor in me wishes I’d become a better writer

Woke up tired, going to end it that way. And was tired most the way throughout. It was another busy and full day, too. When last we talked, I was taking a brief break from the big job packet. Yesterday was the clear-my-head-of-it day. Tonight, I started working on a dead tree edit.

You can edit the file you’re working on, but there’s a lot more you can catch on paper. At least that’s what I tell myself. It has the added benefit of being true. Also, this is a mortifying exercise.

I found the first typo on the Table of Contents. By page four I found my sixth correction.

It went on like that, for about 15 pages, which was just about all I could stand tonight. I’ll do the rest in the morning, and send it off.

I’ve read Dillard, I’ve admired Steinbeck’s journals, and Sarton’s memoirs. I’m sure they’re all more interesting than that, and — though it has been a while since I’ve read some of them, I don’t recall them talking a lot about editing comma splices and redundancies.

Today in Rituals and Traditions the students presented some interesting traditions that they found. I’m sure they all worked tirelessly, evaluating any number of these things from across the country and the world, studiously evaluating the premise behind any number of these things from all of the sports. That, I hope, is what they took from my directions. I wanted them to find something interesting, figure out where it came from, and tell us a bit about the thing. Why does it matter, and so on. The goal was to expose everyone in the class to a bunch of new ideas. You never know from whence inspiration will come. By and large, that’s exactly what they did.

Someone showed us a video of lighting the beam.

Someone else talked about the milk at the Indy 500.

And we also talked about how the Philadelphia Union bang a drum.

And maybe the inspiration will be that we wire a light to a drum, a drum soaked in milk, and then the most valuable player of the game will hit the drum over and over until the stadium lights come on. And then we’ll throw octopus on the playing surface. That Detroit Red Wings tradition keeps coming up in class, somehow.

In the Criticism class we talked about two pieces. The students picked these, and if nothing else it lets me prove there’s something to take away from anything we can read. Take, for instance, this column from The Athletic. The U.S. men’s Olympic hockey team won gold — and then lost the room:

In the immediate aftermath of their victory, the team took a customary, congratulatory call from President Donald Trump, and some players laughed at a misogynistic joke about the gold-winning women’s hockey team that many Americans wouldn’t find funny. They celebrated in the locker room with beer-chugging FBI Director Kash Patel, who is now under scrutiny for using taxpayer money to fund a sports getaway. Then, after a wild night of partying in Miami following their return from Italy, some members of the team announced plans to step in the House Chamber – a stage upon which symbolism is never neutral – and make an appearance at Trump’s State of the Union.

In normal times, this would be an obligatory celebration for a championship team. They take presidential calls. They party too hard. They visit Washington and stroll through the corridors of power.

But this isn’t a neutral climate. This isn’t a neutral president. And in a nation this polarized, the proximity carries weight whether the players are being intentional or merely naive. America no longer experiences these rituals in the same way, and it may never again. Athletes would be wise to recognize that, in this climate, celebration is easily repurposed into political capital.

So we talked about how columns are different than articles, because we live in a time where people don’t read enough to have learned to distinguish between the two. It is, and take my word for it, a real problem.

That piece also let us talk about the Miracle of Ice, which at least one person was not at all familiar. So, as I reminded myself these are 21st century students, I tried to paint pictures about the Cold War, the Carter administration, small fuzzy TVs and nationalism. So we also talked about nationalism in sport, and the politics of sports in two different ways. And then the propaganda value of politicians (of any stripe) glomming on to successful sportsball teams.

All of which is what I planned on at the beginning of the semester, even if they didn’t.

We also talked about this story, Phillies make sure Kerkering ‘knows he’s not alone’ after tough error:

Nick Castellanos watched from right field as Orion Kerkering’s ill-advised throw home sailed over catcher J.T. Realmuto to end the Phillies’ season.

Castellanos saw the Dodgers pour out of the third-base dugout, sprinting past a stunned Kerkering to swarm Andy Pages at first base to celebrate their 2-1 walk-off National League Division Series-clinching win.

Then, Castellanos broke into a sprint of his own. He rushed past the euphoric Dodgers on the infield dirt to get to a visibly emotional Kerkering.

“That’s second nature. That’s instinct,” Castellanos said. “I understand what he’s feeling. Not the exact emotions, but I can see them. I didn’t even have to think twice about it, that’s where I needed to run to.”

And here we talked about tone and intentions and beat writers. There’s something to learn in every story. At least for me.

Especially when you print them out.


24
Feb 26

We can at least agree that the Aggie War Hymn is an ear worm

I had the weirdest dream this morning. But no one cares about your dreams. If you’re writing a blog, or someplace that’s not your own dream journal, or the Journal of Altered Conscious Mental, Emotional, and Sensory Experiences, no one will. This should be a lesson to you. Don’t write it out for others, because no one is reading about your dreams (and Freud isn’t coming along to analyze you in the comments.)

Simply do this instead. Point out you had a dream or dreams. This signals that you have not only slept recently, but done so to the extent that you could enter REM sleep. And then, share that you, too, are dismissive of the dreams, that you know that no one cares. And then, by definition, you are hip.

Not only are you hip, but you, my friend, are a dreamer.

And this is the sort of thing I normally charge $84.95 for down at the airport Ramada, where the lonely, bored, and vaguely motivated will fall all over themselves to see my latest slide decks.

No one cares about your slide decks. All the above? You can apply that to your presentations, too. Oh, sure, you put in a lot of work and they’re interesting, noteworthy, sometimes even compelling. But, and this is the key, they are those things in the moment, not in the re-telling.

Pick your spots.

No one cares about your spots.

Except for infectious disease specialists. Tell them everything. Do not charge them Ramada rates.

Here’s the view from the 6th floor almost-corner office. Not bad out there. Most of the streets on the way in were in great shape. Just one, screen by trees and hills and houses, looked a bit rough. At least for our commute. Quite a few people didn’t make it in today. Not everyone has the same snow experience. You can also see that, below, just by carefully observing which people have shoveled their sidewalks 48-plus hours after the snow stopped and who hasn’t.

In my Rituals and Traditions class today I tried to frame things so that we start thinking of these things more like a team, a league or a school, and not like a fan. I presented them with some research on rituals from a marketing perspective. (Rituals have staying power and create conditions where highly identified fans want to come back, take part, and come back again. Also, most of them spend more money on other stuff at the venue than the ticket price itself.) The lecture got us through about a decade of marketing of fandom research and a few more years on sports fan sociology. Also, I showed them the Aggie War Hymn at weddings, with which I made a point about things in, and out, of context.

And then I explained the song. It’s a song about hating your rivals. I explained the history of the song. J.V. “Pinky” Wilson wrote the song in a trench in France during World War I. He came home to College Station, finished his degree, and sang the song in a quarter. Some of the A&M yell leaders heard it, and convinced him to enter it into a campus song contest. It won, and since 1920 it has been an integral part of Texas A&M fandom. I mean, they sing it at weddings.

At which point I paused, and deadpanned, “White people weddings, man.”

Then I said, there are a lot of these videos on YouTube.

We also considered the shared affiliation of rituals, as in the example of the running of the Gumps. Look at that zeal! And the footspeed!

And then we considered what it means to be a part of 61,000 people singing to your favorite team.

I was also able to cite to them a study that told us some 98 percent of fans engage in sports rituals. Most of them have to do with wearing the team gear and colors, but that study broke out 15 other criteria, and quite a few make the cut for people.

On Thursday, my students’ surveys will be completed. We’re asking questions of our study body. Hopefully some of the information will be help to our class as we try to help find and or develop things our athletic department might work on.

In Criticism, we discussed baseball, beginning with this story about one of the Phillies recent relievers. As a young man he caused a terrible car accident that killed one man, badly injured a teenager and almost derailed his own life. But then one of the truly selfless and remarkable things about humanity happens. It’s a terrific story.

I asked the group what they would like to know at the end of the story. What’s not here that’d you like to see in a followup. Someone said they’d like to see what happened if the pitcher and the family met. Just you wait for Thursday.

We also talked about a museum piece — meaning copy from the Smithsonian — about Jackie Robinson. It didn’t really fit the bill, but we were able to discuss why, and also story curation and, again, what’s not in this piece. What wasn’t there was what Robinson did after he walked away from baseball, and that’s every bit, or more as important, as his time with the Dodgers.

In the evening, as the day is getting later everything felt sunny and cheery, even if it was cold, and it looks like Hoth.

We’re right at the point where 12 hours of the day is in daylight. Right at the point where it seems we might make it once again. Right at the moment that should have happened two weeks ago, but will take place three or four weeks from now: it’ll finally feel like winter is behind us.

Since it isn’t, I rode in the basement this evening. I’ve been suffering through the little riding I’ve done of late. Everything got out of whack around the holidays and my cardio slipped and nothing has helped and it just felt like a big chore — a big painful chore.

But this brief ride, for the first time in a long while, things finally felt good. I don’t know why it seemed to click back into place, physically or mentally, but it was about time. Also, Spain. And I went up a hill prominent enough that it got its own little graphic in the heads up display.

I’m sure that’s useful for climbers, so that they might time their exertion to perfection. But it does something else for the rest of us.

Anyway, 30-some minutes over a lumpy area of Tossa de Mar, with two little Cat 5 climbs according to the profile, way off in the northeast of Spain. I hope I get a few more rides in a row that feel as decent as this one.

There’s a lot of riding to do.

And a lot of work to do. So … back at it.


17
Feb 26

Working with new material, and old snow

The cats are doing great. Much more like themselves today after a bit of anesthesia and dental work yesterday. Poseidon is basically back to normal. Phoebe has been a bit sleepy, but late this evening is behaving as we’d expect, which is great, because she is loving and cuddly. They’re eating and purring and I’m sure everything will be back to normal tomorrow. They have to get a bit of medicine, which we’ll put in their food for a few days, but otherwise great. I am petting them extra much. They deserve it.

In Rituals and Traditions, we wrapped up a few days discussing fans. I ask the class to try to see fans from the perspective of a team or school or league, as if they’re working for them. We talk about sociology via Goffman, and then three theories here, first the classic social identity theory and then role identity theory and, finally, identity fusion theory.

This time out I added new bit about highly identified fans, as I recently learned a family story that is illustrative. I got a laugh out of it, too. Now, I think, I will add a little more to that story every time — like I’m trying to work on a stand-up routine.

In Criticism we discussed media aesthetics. I showed stills from the documentary we watched last week to talk about framing and shot composition. We also talked about two stories about e-sports and gaming. And one of my colleagues, who teaches in our e-sports program was very generous with her time and joined us for the conversation. I was grateful for the additional insights.

First, we talked about Why So Many Esports Pros Come From South Korea:

Much of their decisions to go pro hinged upon schooling. South Korea is a famously well-educated country where roughly 70 percent of students pursue higher education after high school. However, the academic environment is also intensely competitive, to the point where cram schools are a given for most Korean students who hope to score well on the Suneung, South Korea’s nationalized college entrance exam.

For Korean students whose families can’t afford private tutors or cram schools, the odds are stacked considerably against them. PC bangs—gaming cafés where you can rent a PC and play popular games for hours on end—however, are innumerable and very affordable. Most PC bangs charge about ₩1,000 an hour, which roughly comes out to $1.

So here’s the math: South Korea is the most fiercely skilled gaming region on the planet, but that’s because it has a bunch of working-class kids with little social mobility and a lot of free time (no tutoring, no cram school) with ubiquitous access to dirt-cheap internet cafés. South Korea’s gaming infrastructure and culture is what gives Korean kids the means to become the best players in the world, but the country’s structural inequality is a big part of what drives them to go pro in the first place.

So, right away, we were able to figure out if the social dynamics in South Korea are similar to some sports in other parts of the world. (They are.)

That was an interesting story all the way around, and, again, I was able to call on a real expert. That was even more helpful in the second story, which was No girls allowed which is an insightful history piece that explains some of the ouroboros of game development, and perhaps hints at what preceded Gamergate. It’s also an examination of marketing.

When Romero’s daughter Maezza was 8, she returned home from school with a story for her mother. Maezza had told her classmates that when she grows up, she wants to be a game designer. She was a level 90 in World of Warcraft. She loved wearing her Blizzard T-shirt to school. She wanted to learn how to code and make games. A kid in her class turned around. “Girls don’t play games,” he said. “Fortunately, my daughter had a great response,” Romero says. “She said to the boy, ‘My mommy makes games.’ She owned him entirely.” That the concept of “girls don’t play games” exists even among children in schoolyards today has less to do with the actual numbers of players as much as it has to do with an idea that was heavily circulated from the ’90s through television commercials, magazine ads, video game box art and the media. After all, a person who grew up in the ’90s would have little or even no reference for what came before. Their first game marketing experiences would have sold a very black-and-white picture about who video games are for. But this idea is starting to break down. According to Cotteleer, industries tend to look beyond their existing target demographic only when the market has become totally saturated. It can take a while” sometimes more than a decade. And when that happens, they ask, “Who’s next?” She says Nintendo mastered this with the launch of the Wii console, which went on to break records in console sales and introduce video gaming to audiences who had previously never bought a console or played a video game. Its advertising also deliberately targets a different audience, using celebrity spokespeople like Beyoncé, Penelope Cruz and Robin Williams and his daughter Zelda. But the process of breaking down the widely held stereotype of games being for boys doesn’t end with game-makers targeting diverse audiences, Bogost says. In fact, he doesn’t believe that is the right approach, in the same way he doesn’t believe that the industry going after the male audience was a smart idea. “It seems to me an enormously stupid idea, actually,” Bogost says. “All you have to do is look at the most successful games to see that it’s only been possible for them to be massively successful if they don’t systematically exclude half the population.” In order for video games to overcome their existing stereotype, they have to be sold to us as general purpose products. Bogost uses bookstores as an example. No one is surprised when they go into a bookstore and find that there are books for children, books about gardening or books about cooking. It’s accepted that books are a general purpose medium that can address lots of interests. The same applies to television” it doesn’t surprise people that there are channels dedicated to cooking, sports, animals or news. Bogost says that games are already there in terms of there being a diverse variety that can do different things” it just hasn’t effectively gotten the message out there yet. When the message gets out there” when video games are seen as a general purpose medium, and a person who plays Angry Birds can associate that with playing games on a PlayStation 4″ then perhaps the stereotype will begin to fade.

We read and discussed these stories because the students from last semester rightly pointed out we didn’t talk about gaming at all. And we should! Big business, and full of important content. I’m glad I received that suggestion, and was happy to address it this term.

The snow is still here. As of late last week this was one of the longest persisting snows in recorded history. They measure that by inches. So they had it that three inches had been on the ground for however many days was the mark. It ranks third, and a more depressing snow site hadn’t been seen since the 1960s.

We are in week four of this snow, but it is lessening.

With more threatened. But that’s for another day. Tomorrow, I’m going to shovel our sidewalk.


10
Feb 26

Early entry for show of the year

Today’s joke is the ice and snow and weather. Periodically throughout the day, I’ve dropped a random observation about it in the middle of conversation. I look around soberly. No one is watching, but this part of the performance is for me, a half-trained method actor, so that I may immerse myself in the role, as Stanislavski would want.

And then, with a fixed look upon my face, and in a sincere, likeable, confidential tone, I interject, “This snow and ice is never going to melt.”

Because it is never going to melt.

I’m also doing this out of the blue.

It’s not a funny joke the first time, but after three or four rounds it started hitting every time. And I can do this bit for a while, because it is never going to melt. Oh some of it may disappear this weekend, if the long range forecast is to be believed. It has been suggested in a tantalizing display of numbers, that we might enjoy something like almost 48 consecutive hours above freezing. I don’t believe it, and, yes, I have some method acting about that, too.

We talked about the Super Bowl in Rituals and Traditions today. Talked about the game for a few moments, but we watched the opening vignette and I tried to get them to think about what the production was trying to tell us here.

Then we talked about the halftime show for about 25 minutes. And then we discussed the postgame show, and it occurred to me: I never had a class like this, and while the productions back then aren’t as epic as they are today, I wish I had a had class where we walked in and talked about stuff like this.

We talked about interesting and important things, but this was a Tuesday lecture, and how fun is that?

Finally, I brought it back to the halftime show. Some 120-130 million people (the solid numbers should be out tomorrow) watched. Why did the NFL book Bad Bunny?

It’s good business, of course. We have here the world’s most successful musician — 16 Grammy nominations, six wins, 17 Latin Grammy Awards, 113 songs in the Billboard Hot 100, 41 in the top 40 and 12 in the top 10, while having also been the most heavily streamed artist in four of the last six years — playing to one of the world’s largest television audiences. And the NFL wants to expand it’s audience. They’re playing nine games overseas next year. Bad Bunny, meanwhile, was just recently the most heavily streamed musician in China. Plus, younger audiences, women, there’s plenty of crossover to explore.

Someone said: controversy. And, sure, controversy sells. We’d been talking symbolism and messaging for a half hour or so by then. I put this on the screen. Isn’t it something, I said, when this is controversial?

In today’s installment of the criticism class, we discussed a story that was, I thought, one of the more interesting pieces from 2024. I wanted the class to see the mechanics of how the writer wrote about the mechanics of deaf soccer. I played when I was a kid, and when I first saw this story I thought, “How do they do that?” Soccer is basically played, and communicated, from behind you. But if no one can hear …

Soccer — and life — through the eyes of the U.S. deaf women’s national team

The first thing to know about deaf soccer is that it is soccer, and a match looks the same as at any level of the sport.

Instead of a loud, profanity-laced pregame speech from the most extroverted leader on the team, players gather in a circle and execute a synchronized movement of quick fist bumps and back-of-hand slaps. During the game, the center official raises a flag in addition to blowing their whistle for fouls and stoppages of play, and games are typically quieter than the average match that features more verbal communication.

From a technical standpoint, players must have hearing loss of at least 55 decibels in their “better ear” to qualify to play deaf soccer and, crucially, hearing aids are not allowed in games, ensuring all players are on a level playing field.

On a hearing team, communication often comes from the back. The goalkeeper and defenders see everything in front of them and can direct their teammates accordingly — and verbally.

“For us, that’s not possible, that’s not realistic,” Andrews says.

The process is more about inherent understanding and movement as a team. If a forward pushes high to chase a ball, everyone behind her must follow. Halftime or injury breaks become more important, Andrews says, because they represent rare opportunities to look at each other as a group.

We also discussed this piece on the NWSL’s sexual abuse settlement. I find it somewhere between a process piece and a rote recap from someone, Meg Linehan, who’s been all over the story for a long while now. It’s a straightforward news story, and we need a lot of those. In this case, it allowed us to discuss how you can make that determination from the first three paragraphs.

The NWSL will create a $5 million player compensation fund as part of a settlement regarding its role in widespread allegations of abuse.

The settlement, announced on Wednesday, ends a joint investigation by the attorneys general (AGs) of the District of Columbia, Illinois and New York concerning systemic abuse across the league and potential violations of state and local human rights laws.

The three offices, as with the investigation by former U.S. Attorney General Sally Yates and the joint investigation by the NWSL and its players association that came before them, focused on “pervasive sexual harassment and abuse by coaches against players” and systematic failures by the league to “exercise adequate insight, institute workplace antidiscrimination policies, or appropriately respond to complaints,” as listed in the settlement agreement.

Then we talked about what’s not there. And we talked about the visuals included with the story. I had a different perspective on the photos than they did. I need to make a more distinctive point about that the next time it comes up.

And here’s the sun going down, from our 6th floor almost-corner office.

That was 5:37 p.m., proof that the days are getting longer. There’s some solace in that.

… This snow and ice is never going to melt.

We left at just about that time, because who wants to stay longer than that? Also, we had somewhere to be.

So we went over the river, and got to the arena just in time to see The Head and the Heart. I didn’t even know they were going to be there until they started playing this song while we were walking through the concourse, meaning we had to get to our seats.

  

That was a platinum single in 2011. And despite some early success — and a habit of getting songs on soundtracks — they’ve stuck to their indie Americana roots. Delightfully enthusiastic for their art, and quirky in their performance.

They make for an energetic opener, which was great, because backstage, Brandi Carlile was waiting for her turn. She was fresh off singing “America the Beautiful” at the Super Bowl and, this very night, beginning her first arena tour. While the curtain was up, they played Madonna through the PA. And then they lowered the lights, and light the stage and curtain like this.

At the right moment in that first song the curtain fell and there was the whole band and this circular shot of the singer before revealing to us that she was, in fact, eclipsing the sun.

That’d be a little much, but Brandi Carlile is an exceptional performer. Each song made for a different style of visual treatment on the stage screen. And, from this, I have inferred that we are returning to an era of 1990s liner notes, which also looked like an earlier era of vinyl art. Suits me just fine.

Early in the set they did request gimmick. Years ago, she said, they did a tour like this. So this should be no sweat. It’s a deep cut of a tune they recorded 20 years ago, and apparently haven’t played live in a long time. Not that you’d know. She was 24 when she recorded this. It sounds like it. Still works. Still a great song.

  

She also did a cover of a Linda Rondstadt classic. And then a bunch of her rock tunes and a lot of her Americana. She also covered an Alanis Morissette song and it was so good that, according to American and Canadian law, Morissette can’t sing it anymore, because it belongs to Brandi Carlile now.

Vanity Fair once wrote a review saying her voice is the eighth wonder of the world. If that’s overstating it, it isn’t overstating it by much. See her if you can. That was a fantastic show. I want to go back again right now.