Strike Up The Band! We're Coming Back!!

We here at the global nerve-center of the “It’s Game Time Somewhere” Tour pride ourselves on two things that you might not expect. First, we pay close attention to the things that Americans care most deeply about – I speak of course of celebrity kerfuffles. Second, we make every attempt possible to work words like “kerfuffle” into any random conversation.

So in light of my former Governator’s recent admission that there was another pitcher in the family bullpen, so to speak, I dedicate this edition of The Lists to Arnold Schwarzenegger by appropriating perhaps his most memorable utterance:  “I’ll be back”.

I probably would have gone to that Great Big Grandstand In The Sky without having ever seen many of the sports that were introduced to me during the recently completed IGTS Tour. Prior to the Tour, an invitation to attend some of these events would have drawn from me a response along the lines of “Come again? You want me to watch what?”

Truth be told, many of those are best left in the “one and done” category – enjoyable experiments, but not my specific cup of tea. Some however, captivated me through their charm, their uniqueness, or their heaping helpings of just plain fun. The following is a list of sporting events about which I would never have expected to say…I’ll be back.

And I will.

The NCAA Decathlon and Heptathlon Championships (aka “The Combineds”):  I actually attended the Pac-10 Combined Championships, where it took me about 13 ½ minutes to fall in love with the concept. Ten separate, completely different athletic contests for men, seven for women. So naturally I’m now greedy, and want to experience the sport at the next highest level.

There is very little transfer of skills from one field event to another, let alone from field events to track events. That’s probably why the combineds are a sport practiced by a select few people. At the Pac-10 Combineds, the entire UCLA team consisted of Ryann Krais in the heptathlon and Trent Perez in the decathlon. So the drama is even more personal.

And make no mistake about it – this is way beyond challenging. I wonder what the thought process is for taking up the decathlon or heptathlon. Did Trent for example, wake up one morning and say “I think I’ll try my hand at ten different sports today and see if I can excel in each of them”?

NASCAR:  The contrarian in me had previously resisted going to a NASCAR race simply because this sports property had been held out as the standard in terms of fan experiences done well. And also because Budweiser gives me a headache.

Boy was I wrong – about the race, not the Budweiser. NASCAR is a blast, especially if you’re fortunate enough to see a race without too many caution flags. My first NASCAR experience was at a road course instead of an oval track, something that I’ve since been told was a big mistake. In fact, the experts I’ve consulted actually tut-tutted road courses, telling me that I haven’t seen anything until I attend a track race. Yes, they tut-tutted. Or was it tsk-tsked?

In either case, I now have something else to look forward to. 

Collegiate Water Polo:  This could have easily made the “Five You Must See Live” list, because most of what makes it enjoyable to watch takes place outside the normal lens of the camera. Like fouling for example, which in water polo is an art form.

Above the water, all is calm and efficient as the ball is whipped around with surgical precision. Much like with ducks on a pond though, there’s a lot of action going on under the water. And most of that ranges somewhere on a scale between “uncharitable” and “bail-bond inducing”. This is mixed martial arts with nose-clips.

And who can hate the inverse Gatorade shower celebration, during which anybody standing too close to the winning team’s sideline as the seconds tick down on a big win is going into the pool. I had to double-check to make sure I wasn’t at Bushwood Country Club on Caddies Day. This was Big Fun throughout.

U.S. National Diving Championships:  I received my exposure to elite level diving when I attended a Zone Preliminary event, which is diving-speak for a Regional Qualifier. That’s the way they do things at USA Diving – just a little bit outside the norm. But trust me when I tell you that it’s worth the effort to decipher the verbal hieroglyphics that accompany a diving meet.

As the heights from which the competition takes place get progressively higher, ultimately reaching the platform level, it becomes bungee-jumping without the cord – but with various aerial acrobatics routines. These people are either brain-damaged or fearless, and the Cringe Meter for the casual onlooker spends a good deal of time pinned to the red.

Diving really is the forerunner of extreme sports, but gets very little street cred in that regard. The upside of this is that ESPN has yet to suck diving into the X Games, thus preserving a great viewing experience. For now, anyway.

Major League Soccer:  If you happen to live in or visit the Pacific Northwest and you don’t take in an MLS game while there, you’re missing the boat. Especially in Seattle, where a Sounders game is as close to the near-religious soccer experience of the Barclays Premier League as is possible in the U.S. of A.

A couple of things here. First, I can’t ever recall another time when I received a distinctly separate email thanking me for my purchase of a ticket to a sporting event. I think the USGA sent two burly guys in dark suits and reflective sunglasses to my door to “suggest” that I not even think about bringing a cell phone or camera to the U.S. Open, but that was about it.

Second, the email in question started out with “Now that you’ve got tickets for this Sounders FC match, it’s time for us to get you informed on the ins and outs of the Xbox Pitch at Qwest Field” (my emphasis). Note the proactive assumption of responsibility on the part of the team to make sure I was maximizing my enjoyment. This is truly unique. And I certainly hope it catches on throughout sports.

USA Canoe/Kayak Slalom National Championships:  I can’t imagine a more perfect venue for this than the Bethesda Center of Excellence in Maryland, but given that it takes planes, trains and automobiles to get there, I’m open to a different locale. As long as the competition is as captivating as it was at the BCE.

There are no breaks in the whitewater action, as one paddler after another heads down river to test their skills on the rapids and the hazards. And as for getting close to the action – only when I became concerned about the effects of the water spray on my camera did I feel that I needed to back off a bit on my vantage point. It was like going to a baseball game and sandwiching myself in between the catcher and the umpire. Without getting thrown out of the stadium, no less.

Women’s Collegiate Volleyball:  Consider this a public service announcement, targeted specifically at the male youths (or “youts”, if you prefer) of the country. Pay close attention to this advice, young squires:  Make some room in your schedule for some high-quality loitering around women’s volleyball practice at your high school or college. Unless of course you have something against athletic, long-legged blondes with cover-girl beauty. You’re welcome.

Sure the men’s game is played farther above the net, with more powerful kill shots. But the women’s game features a far greater number of spectacular rallies, and a much higher level of contagious emotion. And fan-friendly? When was the last time you went to a collegiate sporting event at which the athletes hung around for a post-match cocktail reception, as they do at USC’s Galen Center? 

8-Man High School Football:  I admit it. Before attending a game, I thought that “8-man” equaled “poorly played” football. I now freely admit that I was wrong. Again.

Essentially, “8-man” only means “smaller student population of males”. The skill levels I saw exhibited were on par with 11-man football – but the pace of the game was vastly different. Six fewer players on a field that is of regulation width (albeit just 80 yards long) makes the 8-man game much more wide-open. Scores in the 50s and even 60s are not uncommon. Blink and you’ll miss a touchdown. No lead is insurmountable.

What I like the best about it though, is the perspective. The game is clearly important, but not life and death, for either the players or the fans. It suggests high school football in a previous era, one that refreshingly predates Mel Kiper, Jr.

The U.S. National Synchronized Swimming Championships (and its cousin, the U.S. Synchronized Team Skating Championships):  No conversation of sports in which the word “endearing” is used is complete without also using the word “synchronized”.

Neither of these sports gets the respect it deserves, especially when you consider that both entail a level of strength and stamina that if channeled toward most other sports would be celebrated loudly. Admit it. When you read the words “synchronized swimming” you snickered. One of two things came to mind:  (a) a grainy black and white newsreel featuring the watery equivalent of the Hokey Pokey, or (b) the water ballet scene from Caddyshack. Don’t lie – you were thinking Little Miss Sunshine with water wings. To be totally honest, I thought the same thing. But within 15 minutes of my first exposure to Synchro I became a convert.  

The three synchronized events I attended were authentic hallmarks of the joy of competition and teamwork – and isn’t that what sports should be about?

Memorable Performance: Mascot Category

…Continued from the previous post.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering what gives me the right to insert one full week in between Part I and Part II of The Ten Most Memorable Performances, when David Letterman, the Godfather of all Top Ten lists gives you everything all at once.

Point well taken.

But consider the exhaustive research that goes into this. Like having to read my own blog posts, for example. Which almost always leads to pouring myself a beverage appropriate for that point in the day, and warmly reflecting on the circumstances surrounding each Memorable Performance.

Keep in mind that I also have to carve out time to make sure that all of the functional departments that report up through the “It’s Game Time Somewhere” global franchise are operating smoothly.

But truth be told, it’s mostly that beverage and reminiscing thing. I’ve seen some remarkable things, and reliving them is almost as good as seeing them for the first time. Why don’t you grab a libation of your own and join me…

 (#5) Chris Lieto – Nautica Malibu Triathlon, Malibu, CA:  This 20-year-old triathlon is an L.A. athletic staple, with its 3,000 competitive openings typically selling out in less than six hours. It starts at the first hint of dawn, with the first of many waves of athletes sprinting into an ocean that checks in at a balmy 60 degrees – or colder, as was the case this year. I have no idea why anyone does that voluntarily.

But apparently Danville, California’s Chris Lieto enjoys this stuff. At least enough to win three Ironman contests and finish second at the 2009 World Ironman Championship in Hawaii.

In Malibu he was solidly on his game. He swam a half-mile in the choppy Pacific surf faster than I could walk down the beach to see him exit the water and set out on an 18-mile bike ride through the hills. Which he completed in 56 minutes. When he switched over to start his 4-mile run, he already had a lead of over 8-minutes. He very nearly beat the officials and the media to the Finish Line when he cruised in with a mind-boggling time of 1:18:20. This picture of him was taken moments after he finished his day’s work – completely spent. Or not.    

(#4) Ashton Eaton – Pac 10 Decathlon Championship, Berkeley, CA:  Another athlete operating in a different realm than that of the rest of his competition was this University of Oregon superman. When I saw him capture this particular decathlon with such ease (winning seven of the ten events outright), I wondered if it was a career best for him. Umm…not even close. In fact he’s been blowing away elite fields quietly and efficiently for some time now. But his days under the radar screen are numbered, for he is well-positioned to win Olympic gold in London next year – and with it the title of “World’s Greatest Athlete.”  

Until then Eaton has been biding his time with some helpful hobbies. In February of this year, for example, he set a world record for the men’s indoor heptathlon at an international meet in Tallinn, Estonia. The guy who owned the record at the time had set it in March of 2010, breaking a mark that had been in place for 17 years. A guy by the name of Ashton Eaton.

He will be smiling back at you from a Wheaties box next year. Bank on it.

(#3) Stevie Goldstein – CIS Southern Section Softball Playoffs, Torrance, CA:  Roughly halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs lies a small but proud Catholic high school named Aquinas. Hardly a SoCal sports power, their softball team had been expected to make a quick exit from last Spring’s playoffs. But they somehow managed to win their first and second round games, despite scoring just three runs in total.

That “somehow” was named Stevie Goldstein, an unflappable pitcher who fired strike after strike after unhittable strike. But could she handle a North Torrance High team that had piled up 34 runs in their two playoff games?

Well, yes – she could. In fact, she could handle them to the tune of no hits and no walks for the full seven inning game. The thing was however, Aquinas hadn’t scored either. So on Goldstein went, into the 8^th, the 9^th, the 10^th inning without allowing a hit. Aquinas had baserunners on in almost every inning, but just couldn’t push that one run across for Goldstein. So she kept going.

Finally, with two outs in the 13^th inning, she gave up her first hit. And in the 15^th inning North Torrance scratched out a run to win the game and end Goldstein’s high school career. She handled the devastating loss well – better than I did in fact.    

(#2) Jenn Suhr – U.S. Indoor Track & Field Championships, Albuquerque, NM:  While the brilliance of Stevie Goldstein had taken me totally by surprise, I knew what I was getting when I staked out a prime spot at the U.S. Indoor Championships to watch Suhr, the reigning American queen of the pole vault.

I’m not sure, but I think she dozed off while taking a pass on the first several heights. By the time she easily cleared the bar on her first attempt of the day, it was almost 1 ½ feet higher than it was at the start of the competition – and half the field had been eliminated. As she went on to effortlessly clear higher and higher marks, I got the feeling that something unusual could happen.

Unfortunately that “something unusual” was me about to miss a plane. I hung in as long as I conceivably could before sprinting for the airport. At that point, Suhr had just missed on her second try at besting her own U.S. record of 15’ 10”. I shouldn’t have been surprised when the next day I learned that, had my flight’s departure time been 10 minutes later, I would’ve witnessed a new American record of 15’ 11”.

Technically, that would make this performance 99% Memorable and 1% Imaginable for me. But I’m not proud – I’m claiming it.

(#1) Sean McGonagill – Columbia at Brown, Providence, RI:  My friend Doc swore that McGonagill had made a deal with the Devil. There was no other way to explain how the smallest player on the floor could dominate a Division I basketball game so thoroughly – while wearing a protective mask, no less.

See, McGonagill’s face had been on the receiving end of a teammate’s knee during a loose ball scramble in practice just 48 hours prior to the game that we attended. So when he, his surgically repaired face, and his badly outmanned teammates took to the floor against a team that occupied first place in the Ivy League standings at the time…well, put it this way – Doc & I had seriously considered keeping the car running in the parking lot.

Forty minutes of brilliant play later, the 6’ 1” (on his tiptoes) McGonagill had turned in a stat line of 39 points (on 15 of 19 shooting), six assists, four rebounds, one steal – and a blocked shot, just for grins. Oh, and his Brown Bears had handed heavily favored Columbia an 8-point loss.

Did I mention that McGonagill was a freshman?

Memorable Performance: Super-Hero Category

I was going through a bunch of pictures from the recently completed “It’s Game Time Somewhere” Tour when I came to a stunning realization – I’ve seen a lot of athletes in the course of visiting 100 uniquely different sporting events. Yes, implausible as this may seem, the entire year-long Tour was not entirely about moi. Crazy, I know.

The thing about athletes is that each time they take the field, court, track, pitch, diamond, etc. they all aspire to doing something memorable that day. It may not be something that carves their name into a record book or guarantees enshrinement in a Hall of Fame; but it will provoke a warm feeling of accomplishment when they look back on their athletic career at that particular performance. To shamelessly steal and subsequently misuse a Chris Berman line, “That’s why they play the games.”

It was my great pleasure to witness some of those performances…

(#10) Bobby Brown – Winter Dew Tour, Killington, VT:  It wasn’t just that Brown won the Men’s Ski Slopestyle event at the Dew Tour’s annual visit to New England – it was the way he did it. In a competition whose finals consist of just two runs, it helps to put a solid number on the board your first time down the course. Not helpful at all, from the standpoint of both score and bodily harm, is catching an edge on that first run and wiping out spectacularly.

After that very thing happened, the 19-year-old Brown was left to gather his equipment from the various places at which they came to rest, and stare up at the entire field from his last-place position. Many would follow that exercise by retreating into a mental fetal position.

Maybe it’s because he’s only 19. Maybe it’s because he has yet to develop a pulse. But when it came time for Brown’s second run, he out-and out attacked the very jump that had been his earlier demise. By the time he reached the bottom of the hill and victory was a foregone conclusion, I had the answer to that age-old question:  What is the sound of a thousand mittens clapping?

(#9) Janko Tipsarevic – ATP Farmers Insurance Classic, Westwood, CA:  It was an early round match at a fairly unheralded stop on the men’s pro tennis circuit, and I was luxuriating in my own private row of seats at UCLA’s Straus Stadium, anxious to get a look at Somdev Dewarman, one of the most decorated players to ever emerge from the collegiate ranks.

A two-time NCAA singles champion with a 125 mph serve, he was up against…well, a guy that looked a lot like the band U2’s front man – and who moved around a tennis court just about as quickly. Five games into the first set, it looked like a rout was on. But then, in a performance in which he used every hard-earned trick of the trade, Tipsarevic threw everything but the psychological kitchen sink at Dewarman. He ran him. He dinked him. He stalled. He called challenges on points that looked obvious. He just…plain…wore…the…kid…….down. It was a victory for grizzled vets everywhere.

It didn’t surprise me one bit when the next month at the U.S. Open, the most shocking upset of the fortnight was Andy Roddick’s early exit at the hands of a guy nobody had ever heard of. A guy by the name of Janko Tipsarevic. Or as I’ve taken to calling him, The Serbian Bono. So far, so good – I have yet to receive a cease and desist order on the nickname. 

(#8) Scott Norton – PBA World Series of Bowling, Las Vegas:  On the other hand, I have had a cease and desist order on sharing Scott Norton’s big day with the YouTube-ing public.

The lefty Norton is a PBA Tour rookie, who hadn’t exactly been setting the bowling world on fire coming into the World Series. But he, well there’s no other way to say this, he got on a roll in the Chameleon Championship and vaulted into the #1 seed going into the finals. This enabled him to kick back and watch the other competitors battle it out for the right to meet him in a one game, winner-take-all match.

That game was packed with tension throughout. Not about whether Norton would win, which he did handily – but whether he would roll a perfect game in doing so. After tossing strikes in the first eight frames, a 300 game was within sight. That drama ended with a spare in the ninth frame, but shortly thereafter Norton was celebrating his first professional win with his Mom, Women’s Hall of Fame bowler Virginia Norton.

I thought a nice little FlipVideo of that moment might be appreciated by the general public. The PBA…begged to differ. I received a terse email from those happy-go-lucky folks, who were apparently upset that I was helping to promote their sport. When I was a little tardy in ceasing and desisting, they somehow barged into my “private” YouTube site and vaporized the video from my post.

Come to think about it, that performance was almost as memorable as Norton’s. I’ll never think about bowling in quite the same way again.  

(#7) Brodi Henderson –U.S. Sumo Open, Anaheim, CA:  I had gone to the U.S. Sumo Open without a clue as to what I might witness. But even then, the sight of a 6’7”, 367-pound Canadian who was 15 years old pretty much set the outer limits on “unexpected”.

It would have been easy to dismiss Brodi Henderson’s inclusion in the field as a curiosity, and I’m embarrassed to admit that this is exactly what I did when he lost his first two matches convincingly. But lo and behold, he then won his first international match. And then another. And another.

I have t-shirts that are older than Brodi Henderson. But none of them have ever made it to the heavyweight division quarterfinals of a U.S. Open. Either I have underperforming t-shirts, or Henderson has a ton of talent and a very bright future. I am withholding final judgment on this however, until he conquers his biggest upcoming challenge – securing his driver’s license.

(#6) Joy Dalgren & Barbara Brown – U.S. Masters Synchronized Swimming Championships, La Mirada, CA:  Literally a lifetime removed from Brodi Henderson are two athletes that represent the Redwood Empire Synchro Club in San Rafael, CA. They didn’t call this event the Masters of synchronized swimming for nothing.

As I sat in the stands and watched with amazement, six teams competed in the Free Duets Championship in the 70-79 year old division. Little did I know that these were relative youngsters. You see, Joy and Barbara compete in the 80-89 year old division. And acquit themselves quite nicely, as I’m sure you’ll agree…

I don’t know about you, but that kills me every time.

To be concluded in next post…

The Friendly Confines Of IGTS Tour HQ

I like home entertainment technology as much as the next Sports Fan. Much more often than ever before, there is nothing in the sports world more inviting than my couch, my HDTV and my remote. So it doesn’t surprise me in the least that a considerable amount of hand-wringing is taking place among the owners of Big Time sports franchises, who are seeing attendance erode at the same time that television ratings are going up.

In fact, the most ironic thing I’ve read about sports in a long time was a piece in Sports Business Journal that described the efforts underway to make football fans at stadiums feel more like they’re watching the game at home.

But as a pretty well-informed observer of live sporting events, I am here to tell you that there are some sports that not even the best technology in the world can fully capture. Some that even 3D HDTV can’t improve upon. I boldly say this with full knowledge that I’ve just torpedoed any chance of a massive sponsorship deal with Sony.

I now present five sports that, once you see them live, cause you to say “Now I get it.”

(#5) Pro Surfing:  Work with me here, because I know you’re thinking “Can’t those cameras right there in the waves with the surfers give me a better view than I could get on shore?” You are indeed correct – they can.

But! Those cameras can’t accurately capture the mood that exists on the shore as fans jointly engage in trying to spot the swells that will become the waves that get captured on camera. Half the fun of a surfing competition is the anticipation that builds when the crowd in the sand realizes that in about 30 seconds, something amazing could happen. If everything triangulates just right and the surfer gets to that magic swell in time…well the actual ride is almost an afterthought. Especially when you can turn to the person next to you and say “I saw that one coming.”

Oh, and those cameras can’t possibly capture all of the beautiful, bikini-clad girls either. If that sort of thing interests you.

(#4) Stock Car Racing:  Again, it’s all in the atmosphere. Last June I hadn’t been wild about my impending trip to see the Toyota SaveMart 350, but I couldn’t claim that I had taken the pulse of American sport if I had omitted NASCAR from my schedule.

I prepped for the event by watching a race on television with a couple of people who are NASCAR fans. The knowledge they conveyed was helpful, but I still wasn’t captivated. That changed once I had my first race in person under my belt.

It is a scene that can only be fully appreciated once you have spent an afternoon marveling at the sound and the fury that at first assaults you – but then draws you in. I defy anyone’s adrenalin levels to remain static when a field of cars screams by you at full throttle.

And while I was prepared to be annoyed by the legendarily obnoxious fan behavior, I was pleasantly surprised at how friendly and unguarded everyone seemed to be. There was almost an air of innocence to the environment. It was part sporting event, part state fair. With the volume cranked up.

(#3) Whitewater Canoe & Kayak:  Unless you have someone on duty in your living room to spritz you periodically as you watch a whitewater paddling event on television, you can’t know what it’s like to be that close to the action.

Sure, that level of proximity to the USA Canoe/Kayak Slalom National Championships will cost you. It set me back $8 to park, and another buck to tip the shuttle bus driver. In other words, the whole day cost me less than the price of a beer at most NFL stadiums.

Any time that I was motivated to do so, I left my seat on the bank of the river and walked down to the fence, where I had a view that was better than that of any camera. I could actually observe forearm muscles tense and relax as paddlers alternated between fighting the current upstream and deftly guiding their vessel as it shot down the river. And without the limitations of a television screen, I could see the entire run lie out before each paddler and gauge in advance which critical spots would determine whether they would conquer the rapids…or vice versa. 

(#2) Ice Hockey:  There is probably no sport that has benefitted more from the advent of high definition television. It used to be that watching a hockey game on television was an exercise in frustration as you tried in vain to follow the puck. It was like a vulcanized version of “Where’s Waldo”.

Things are much better with HDTV. I can now watch a game and spot the puck with ease. Most of the time.

In person, seeing the puck is never a problem. I don’t know why. I’m not even sure my optometrist knows why. But if I had to guess, it would be context – as in the context of the game’s flow naturally draws your eye to where the puck is most likely to go next. With the benefit of a wide-angle view, you see where everyone on the ice is at all times, and how that current position will factor into subsequent play.

And here’s a little tip:  At your next live hockey game, try to get a seat that looks directly down one of the end lines. Since the pile-up on any scoring assault usually happens in front of the net, your side angle usually provides an unimpaired view of goalie and goal. Like this video of overtime at The Beanpot game between Boston University and Boston College, for example. You’re welcome. 

(#1) Soccer:  The beautiful game. The world’s most popular sport. And the most effective cure for insomnia I’d ever encountered – until I went to a game played at the highest levels of competition.

As is the case with ice hockey, it’s all in the broad view. When you can see the whole field at once, you can see all of the angles. I had never known that soccer was a game so tied to geometric configurations until I watched a game with a knowledgeable fan. Now I can spot them unfolding by myself, which gives me a leg up (sorry) on understanding how goals happen – instead of twiddling my thumbs waiting for the ball to randomly get kicked in the direction of the goal. Imagine my delighted surprise to discover that there are as many “Oh! Almost!” plays occurring on the wing as those that occur in front of the goal.

It also helps tremendously that soccer is one of the very few sports that never stops. You are engaged for at least 45 minutes at a time. And if by chance your attention should wander, and you happen to be at a Seattle Sounders game…well, watching the fans watch the game is worth the price of admission all by itself.

The actual selection process though…not quite the cakewalk I expected. Much of what made an “It’s Game Time Somewhere” Tour venue memorable was the quality of the event that I witnessed there. Consequently, it was tricky separating out environment from experience.

But I persisted. Over my morning coffee I made an initial list of contenders. I had a second cup and identified the finalists, reveling in the memories. Trying in vain to narrow the selection to a Fab Five, I had a third cup. Which then, of course, led to a caffeine-induced sprint of several laps around the well-manicured campus of the IGTS World Headquarters.

Exhausted by this, I had to take a nap. Evidently, this List-making is going to be tougher than I thought.

In struggling to define the selection criteria, I eventually decided to use the “This Is So Cool” test – a yardstick which measures exactly how far into each event’s notes the first reference to how much I’m enjoying my surroundings occurs. Much to my surprise, the International Organization for Standardization is on board with adding the TISC test to their ISO 9000 Standards. We’re currently hashing out the details for the press conference.

In the meantime…

(#8) The Galen Center, Los Angeles:  I know what you’re thinking, and no, this did not make the list because I kind of, sort of follow USC football on occasion. But it certainly didn’t hurt that replicas of every one of the 113 national championship trophies ever earned by USC – as well as team photos of the respective champs – are housed in the lobby of the Galen Center. It’s an impressive historical display, no matter what your feelings about Tommy Trojan may be.

In fact, this venue was chosen because of its incredible design and comfort. If it’s possible to have a building that seats up to 10,258 feel like an intimate luxury movie theatre, this is it. Every seat provides not just great, but perfect sightlines, and the banking and angling of the seating is such that no matter where you are, you feel neither too far away nor too high above the action.

And of course, the cocktail reception that followed the USC vs. Stanford women’s volleyball game wasn’t too tough to stomach either. The only thing that marred the evening was the little scuffle I got into when, six hours after everyone else had gone home, the security guards suggested that I might want to call it a night as well.

(#7) Johnny Unitas Stadium, Towson, MD:  Pristine. Bucolic. Pastoral. Tranquil. I think you get the picture – the place was nice. Despite an unexpected turnout of almost 10,000 raving women’s lacrosse fans for the NCAA Championship game between Maryland and Northwestern, it still had the feeling of a backyard barbeque.

The on-campus football stadium for Towson State University, this relatively new facility was so clean you could have eaten off of the concourse. If you’re inclined to do that sort of thing. It’s exactly the sort of setting that makes non-BCS college football so much more enjoyable than the drunk-fests typically found at a 90,000 seat stadium.       

(#6) Broomstones Curling Club, Wayland, MA:  I’m going to guess that most curling clubs are friendly and inviting, because as I discovered at the U.S. Men’s Senior Nationals, that’s the nature of the sport. But if forced to wager, I’d bet that the crowd at Broomstones regularly medals in Hospitality.

Within two hours of having arrived on-site unannounced, I had been offered free food and drink, a complimentary lesson in curling, and a thorough education on the nuances of the game. Just because I was there. If I lived in Boston, there’s no doubt I’d apply for membership – even though seven different doctors have confirmed that, yes, I am indeed allergic to cold temperatures.   

(#5) Bethesda Center of Excellence, Dickerson, MD:  I arrived early and stayed late at the USA Canoe/Kayak Slalom National Championships, partly because I was enjoying the competition, and partly because I just couldn’t get over the uniqueness of the venue.

Miles and miles (and miles) from any urban center, the BCE whitewater course is a perfect example of how mankind can tweak Mother Nature without upstaging her. A quarter-mile artificial river draws on water heated by the adjacent Mirant Dickerson Power Generating Station, and tumbles into the neighboring Potomac River. The result is a world-class competitive run, in temperatures that allow Olympians and aspiring Olympians the opportunity to train almost year-round.

And not for nothing, it also creates an environment in which pseudo-journalists on eccentric quests can position themselves within feet of the action as paddlers negotiate the challenging course. 

(#4) ARCO Olympic Training Center, Chula Vista, CA:  Tucked onto the backside of a parcel of land that is tucked into a remote corner of a town that is tucked into a remote corner of San Diego County, you’ll find a perfectly groomed and graded archery facility – assuming your Garmin is functioning at peak form.

Built specifically to house (literally, in some cases) U.S. archers with designs on Olympic medals, the venue also hosts competitions like the SoCal Showdown, where I had a front row seat to watch dozens of talented archers test their skills against world-class competition on a day that would make the word “perfect” blush in deference. U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

(#3) Springfield Country Club, Springfield, OR:  It wasn’t a golf tournament that brought me to the Home Office of Green – rather it was the NCAA’s West Regional Cross Country Championships. I had set out for Springfield from Portland’s pre-dawn pitch darkness in a steady rain, with a temperature hovering somewhere in the low 40’s. I expected to be one of…oh, maybe a dozen fans on hand. I was off by a factor of more than 50. They love their running in Oregon, and by the time both the men’s and women’s races had concluded, I was just another of hundreds of exuberant fans wondering “Is that it? Can’t they do it again?” I never even thought about the cold and rain. OK, that was a lie. But I would attend this event again in a heartbeat.

In addition to the drama of the races themselves, the event stands apart in my mind for its vibrant colors. Deep emerald green makes a great backdrop for the kaleidoscope that highlighted the uniforms of 56 different teams. Call me a sucker for colorful.

(#2) Libbey Park, Ojai, CA:  This humble patch of earth in the center of a town that’s nestled in between two Southern California mountain ranges is what the pearly gates of heaven must look like to a tennis player. Perhaps that’s why, except for a few war-time years, The Ojai Tennis Tournament has been played here annually for well over a century. And run almost entirely by volunteers.

My trip to see the Pac-10 Men’s & Women’s Championships actually resulted in attending a phenomenon of civic spirit. And tennis history. The shady path that winds from the front gate to the courts is lined with displays that feature homespun Polaroid pictures (remember those?) of both winner and runner-up of every competition conducted each year since, well, since at least the year that Polaroid cameras were invented. A Wall of Fame lists each of the 85 players who have competed in The Ojai and gone on to win one or more Grand Slam events. You may recognize some of the names:  Pete Sampras, Billie Jean King, Lindsay Davenport, Arthur Ashe, Michael Chang…

(#1) Lamade Stadium, Williamsport, PA:  The home of the Little League World Series. If you can’t immerse yourself in all that is good about sports at Lamade, there is no hope for you. It’s the only place on Earth that even the presence of ESPN can’t ruin.

Consider this:  Target Field, the new home of the Minnesota Twins opened last year to a torrent of press coverage, all of it gushing over virtually every aspect of the custom-designed stadium. Sports Business Journal did an entire Special Report on it. This I had to see. So IGTS Event #49 was scheduled partly to see the Twins and the Detroit Tigers, but mostly to experience Target Field.  

This brand new half-billion dollar stadium didn’t have a prayer of impressing me. For I had traveled to Minneapolis directly from Williamsport, PA.

End and beginning. A new cycle starts.

For those that interpret that to mean that I’m planning an IGTS Tour sequel, how can I say this in the nicest possible way…I know – how about, “Are you out of your mind?”

Don’t get me wrong. It was an incredible experience, one that I will cherish forever. And I have a feeling that my memories will become even fonder as time goes by. But it’s going to be nice to sleep in my own bed every night for a good long stretch of time, and wonderful to go to a game without notebooks, cameras, video recorders, etc. This may come as a shock, but I’ve already been to two sporting events since the end of the Tour, and it was blissful to relax and simply watch.

Me Capturing The Tour's Final Photo

So what did I learn on what a good friend called “The Best Quest In The West?” Believe it or not, when I began this journey, I naively thought that I would be able to sum it up at the end in a tidy little package. I anticipated a single blog post titled something like “What I Learned On My Nationwide Vacation”. I went out into the wide world of sports (now there’s a catchy name for a show…) to find out if I still love sports after having spent a decade of work-a-day life in the sports biz. To be honest, I truly expected to come back and wax poetic about how my love of sports has been validated beyond all reasonable doubts.

Has it? Well…sort of.

When you immerse yourself in anything as much as I have over the past year, your conclusions become much more textured; more nuanced. There are many aspects of sports in America that I hadn’t previously considered. I became enamored with many, disturbed by some, and convinced that there’s a larger story that needs telling.

What’s that? Did I hear someone say “Put it all in a book, Tim”? Excellent idea.

In fact, I’ve already put the wheels in motion on pursuing just that. And while the book will contain a healthy dose of the same type of lighthearted “road trip” storytelling that attracted a truly humbling number of people to my little corner of the blogosphere, it will also go into more detail about what goes into the promotion and production of sports at all levels – the good, the bad, and the ugly.

In the meantime, I wanted first to sincerely thank all of you who have followed my exploits, and especially those that took the time to post a comment or send me an email to share your thoughts. Last April, when I posted my very first entry, I was pretty confident that only members of my immediate family would read it. I was wrong. Even they took a pass.

As time went by though, a funny thing happened. Somehow or another people found me. And they told other people. Google eventually got into the act, and dozens of visitors became hundreds of visitors, which gave way to thousands. I’ve heard from people all over the world, many of whom posed variations on the same two questions:  (1) “What’s wrong with you?” and (2) “Does The Bird have a sister?”

I also wanted to take this opportunity to pose a question of my own:  Would you like to read more about the Tour?

What I had in mind was to write a series called “The Lists”. In that group of posts I would go into full Letterman Mode and publish Top 10 Fill-In-The-Blank summaries that would provide some cross-sectional views of what I experienced on the Tour. “My Ten Favorite Events”; “Five Events I Wouldn’t Go Back To At Gunpoint”; “Most Memorable Performances”. Stuff like that.

If you would indeed be interested in that type of thing, please post a Comment or send me an email at tim@itsgametimesomewhere.com. And while you’re at it, I would love to get your ideas on Lists that you would like to see published. Or (and I can’t even believe I’m writing this) other events you’d like to see covered. After all, we’ve all been in this together for quite some time now.

In fact, I’ve already received a request to update the Schedule tab so that it lists in order all of the events that made up the Tour. Of course I’m more than happy to oblige – you’ll find we’re very accommodating here at the palatial IGTS World Headquarters.

But just so you know – we don’t validate parking.

This day was 11 months and 13 days in the making. So there was no such thing as being too early for the game.

As enjoyable as watching opening round coverage of the NCAA Tournament is, Kels and I had no remorse about leaving March Madness behind in Scottsdale’s Fox Sports Grill at 3:45 PM for the 7:05 PM first pitch that would begin Event #100 – a Spring Training game between the Los Angeles Angels and the San Francisco Giants. After all, we had almost ten miles to travel.

Twenty minutes later we pulled into a free parking lot adjacent to Scottsdale Stadium – an absolute gem of an old-fashioned downtown ballpark. And we were by no means alone in our eagerness. It would be another 45 minutes until the gates would even open, but already there were hundreds of people milling around, even though all 11,622 tickets had long since been sold. These people, like us, just wanted to get inside and drink up the atmosphere as soon as possible.

Scottsdale Stadium is one of the original Cactus League venues, serving since 1992 as the Spring Training home of the Giants. It’s an environment that already screams authenticity, but this year it was augmented by the unmistakable swagger that goes with being the reigning World Series Champions. It wasn’t a puffed chest, “yes, we’re all that” bluster though; it was more an air of quiet confidence.

Giants fans greeted each other as if they were part of an ancient secret society. I wouldn’t have been surprised in the least to learn that a special handshake or code word was being exchanged surreptitiously all around me. If that was the case, Kels was dialed into it. As the undisputed biggest Giants fan in New York’s Upper Hudson Valley, he had earned his stripes.

For San Francisco fans, this Cactus League season was one of both anticipation and revelry in the final remnants of last October’s championship run. While media “experts” have thus far been universally underwhelmed by this year’s team, ask any Giants fan and they’ll tell you that this edition is even better than the last. Which made this the perfect opportunity to size up my 2011 Angels against a high-quality opponent.

When the gates opened, Kels peeled off to join the full-scale assault on the team merchandise store. I took the opportunity to peruse the starting lineups that had been posted on a humble erasable whiteboard on the concourse.

It took a couple of minutes to fully register, but under the heading of “Visitors” was a long list of names that I didn’t recognize. I initially thought that a mistake had been made. Maybe nobody had updated the board from the previous day’s game? But then I saw “Angels” written at the top and “Haren” in the starting pitcher’s spot and I knew that for whatever the reason, the team had chosen to field a squad of rookies and minor-leaguers for this game. 

What The...?

Of course I understand that Spring Training is equal parts getting the regulars ready and giving the up-and-comers a good look, but seriously…one “real” starter in the lineup? Four guys who I’d never even heard of? On this, the historic occasion of Event #100? I’m not going to lie – it hurt.

But I got over it. Sierra Nevada Pale Ale on tap will help with that.

It was a fairly rare Spring Training night game, and when combined with St. Patrick’s Day, a unique vibe was in the air. You got the feeling that you might see just about anything. And sure enough, as we rounded the concourse onto the third base side of the stadium, “just about anything” took the form of Bill Buckner, who was there as part of a group of retired baseball stars who were populating an autograph signing booth.

There is probably no baseball player in history whose name is more closely linked to disaster and heartbreak than Bill Buckner. The over/under on the number of times the ball going through his legs in the 1986 World Series has been replayed is probably somewhere around 7.2 bajillion. This man was literally hounded out of New England, and only two World Series titles in four years softened hardcore Red Sox fans enough to forgive him. This is a man who has experienced the absolute worst side of baseball. Yet here he was, relaxed and engaging as he chatted with fans and contemporaries such as Rollie Fingers and Gaylord Perry. Have I mentioned that Spring Training is all about renewal?

We wandered down the concourse until we reached a little oasis which offered us a great view of right field and the players warming up. There we met Pam, who was in her second night of staffing a standalone beer concession. Pam had recently relocated from Spokane to Phoenix in search of – surprise! – a fresh start, and she knew her sports. She asked if we had any scores for the late afternoon NCAA games, and a lively discussion about college basketball ensued. It turned out that she was wearing her team allegiance on her sleeve – or something akin to that. When she took off a shoe to reveal Gonzaga University socks, she forever cemented her status as a fan.

 As for the game…well, I’d love to tell you all about how a scrappy bunch of Angel unknowns came out and blistered the pitching of the World Champs – I really would. But I’d be lying. The game was every bit as devoid of offense from the Halos as I had anticipated. Fortunately though, the Angels pitching staff managed to contain the Giants nicely, and despite mustering just one infield single, we were in a scoreless tie in the fourth inning. Could the Halos perhaps scratch out a run and win this thing?

Just about the time that thought started to percolate, they showed up – a large contingent of Dodgers fans on a singular mission to annoy their San Francisco counterparts. Clad in matching Dodger Blue t-shirts, they began a slow procession around the stadium’s inner concourse, waving to the stands like beauty queens on a Tournament of Roses Parade float. They were not, umm…“well-received”.

And a funny thing happened during their procession. As the boos rained down, the Giants started to hit. A single. A double. Another double…and by the time the instigators had finished their tour, it was 3-0. Thanks guys – there went my “stealing a 1-0 win” scenario.

Giants Closer Brian Wilson Didn't Help Matters For Halos Fans

While the prospects for an Angels win (or even an extra-base hit) were becoming more remote with each inning, the social situation in Section 213 was hitting full stride. It was like the neighborhoods depicted in beer commercials – full of smart, funny people watching sports together. And friendly? I’ve seen Up With People productions that were more standoffish. Had it been a double-header, Kels might have wound up on the ballot for San Francisco’s next Board of Supervisors election.  

As informal group conversation began to reveal to others the IGTS quest – and the place that this game occupied within the Tour – new friends began to offer congratulations, share similar stories, and provide suggestions for future endeavors. I had gone to a baseball game and a focus group had sprung up. That’s baseball though, and especially Cactus League baseball.

Spring Training uniform numbers exhibit a basic pecking order – the higher the number, the more likely the player wearing it will be plying his trade in the minor leagues come Opening Day. Thus, in the bottom of the eighth inning when the Angels sent out a trio of outfielders whose uniform numbers averaged 83.3, any hope I had of a spirited comeback quickly deflated.

At 9:14 PM, an anonymous Angel wearing number 81 flied out to center field, and it was official – the “It’s Game Time Somewhere” Tour was over. The Halos had mustered just two measly hits in a 4-0 loss. On the bright side however, Kels and I had received invitations to two weddings, a Bar Mitzvah celebration, and a half-dozen backyard barbeques.

To pin the Surreal-O-Meter firmly in the red, in the street outside the stadium I ran into Ashley (nee) Gomes, a former professional golfer with whom I’d had the pleasure of working for three tour seasons. “What are you doing here?” she asked innocently. So I told her. I think she was still processing my answer when the taxi carrying her and her new husband pulled away.

To tell you the truth, I’m still processing it all myself.

Turn Out The Lights, The Party's Over

Next Up:  In Retrospect – A Year In The Bleachers

Ask any sports fan when Spring really begins and they’ll reply without hesitation:  The day that pitchers and catchers report for Spring Training. No matter where you live, from the snowiest of Frost Belt towns to the warmest Sun Belt city, the day that baseball’s pre-season camps open is always the most reliable harbinger of hope. And what is Spring anyway, if not the Official Sponsor of Hope?

When Spring Training begins, every team is a potential World Series champ. Yes, even the Pittsburgh Pirates! OK, that’s patently ridiculous, but see how easily the concept can sweep you away?

With that in mind, what better place to end my journey than at the home office of Renewal?

I bounced that very concept off of my buddy Kels, and he was completely on board with it. Literally, in fact – as in on board USAirways flight # 245 from Newark to Phoenix. And as luck would have it, his beloved San Francisco Giants were scheduled to play my Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim in a “pivotal” Cactus League contest. On St. Patrick’s Day. Which happened to be the first day of the NCAA basketball tournament.

That flash you may have just seen was that of stars aligning themselves perfectly.

The 100^th and final event of the “It’s Game Time Somewhere” Tour positively dictated that I go the extra mile in preparation. I’m sure you’ll agree that I couldn’t just blindly wander into such a momentous occasion. I needed a dress rehearsal.

So on the day before The Day, I rose at 4:30 AM and poured myself into the car for the 6 ½ hour drive to Phoenix’s Sky Harbor Airport, where I was to collect the equally sleep-deprived and giddy Kels. From there it was a short drive to Glendale, the Spring Training complex shared by the L.A. Dodgers and the Chicago White Sox, the latter of whom were hosting Kels’ Giants that afternoon.

Giants Fans Of All Ages Strain For A Closer Look

The game had already started by the time we entered the centerfield gate, and even from a distance it was easy to see that San Francisco’s star pitcher and cult hero Tim “The Freak” Lincecum was pitching. Much to the delight of Giants fans, he remained there longer than expected. After completing the fifth inning, he left the mound to a standing ovation of appreciation for his day’s work. Except that his day wasn’t exactly done, for when the bottom of the sixth inning began he was out there again. Oops. Hey, it was Spring Training for the fans too.

There’s a unique strand in the male DNA that researchers have found responsible for the irresistible Road Trip urge. Curiously enough, it’s right near the strand labeled simply “Beer”. The Bird has found the whole topic to be fascinating. “What do you guys actually do on road trips?” she once asked. The answer is simple:  (a) Play games; (b) Watch games; and (c) Make fun of each other. Is there anything else?

Sure enough, like moths to a flame, Kels and I soon made the acquaintance of three fellow grandstand residents who had come down from North Dakota for some desert biking and some baseball. It was the last day of their trip and they were in need of some visual keepsakes. Naturally we were happy to help out; as were they to reciprocate.

Over the course of the next 48 hours, that scenario replayed itself repeatedly. “Where are you in from?  How long you here for?” And of course, “How’s your team looking this year?”

Everywhere we went, we were greeted by a bright visual mix of shirts and hats bearing the logos of the Cubs, the Reds, the A’s…and well, pretty much every one of the 15 teams that call Arizona their Spring Training home. It was like a political convention – minus the nasty name-calling.

Brandon Belt Connects On A Single

We were all scouting the opposition, some of us more seriously than others. We were also on the lookout for Baseball’s Next Big Thing, so that on that future date when he was inducted into the Hall of Fame we could say “I saw him in Spring Training, before anybody else had heard of him.” A strong candidate to fill that role was the Giant’s rookie first baseman Brandon Belt, whose name is a perfect description of what he does to a baseball. In his first four times up, he walked, singled, doubled and launched a 400-foot opposite-field home run. I thought I was going to have to wipe the saliva off of Kels’ face.

Belt’s batting heroics and Lincecum’s seven strikeout performance were the catalysts for a 5-3 San Francisco win, which put a warm smile on the faces of Giants fans. The game had clocked in at 2 hours and 28 minutes, and we were left wanting more. We hadn’t even finished our bag of peanuts when the final out was recorded. So we lingered in our seats for several minutes before slowly meandering toward the exit. And that bit of loitering exposed us to an extra bit of entertainment:  The Senior Stroll.

If there is one single thing I would pick to personify the difference between Spring Training and the regular season, it would be the Senior Stroll. It’s pretty much a universal promotion at major and minor league ballparks across the country to offer kids the chance to line up and run around the bases after the pro game is over – and there is never a shortage of takers. Here in Glendale there was a new twist on the concept.

The line of men and women “of a certain age” waiting their turn to Stroll began at first base and snaked all the way up the grandstand aisle, spilling out onto the concourse above. And the event was every bit as festive and euphoric as those involving their grandchildren. As they toured the base paths, they laughed and joked, hamming it up for pictures that documented this distinctively American activity. The musical accompaniment wafting through the P.A. system? A Sinatra medley, followed by Wayne Newton singing Danke Schoen (“Bueller?…Bueller?). There was just one rule:  No sliding.

They were still at it as we slowly wound our way through the meticulously landscaped complex to the parking lot, passing signs all along the way that bore the official Cactus League mantra:  “Beware of Flying Bats and Balls”.

Yes indeed, for every ending there is a beginning. When one wonderful thing reaches its conclusion, there is always something else to look forward to. Becoming eligible for your first Senior Stroll, for example. 

To be concluded in next post…

Of course I’m not talking about the MVC, the WCC, or the MAAC – or any of those conferences for which there is but one invitation to The Big Dance. These tournaments mean everything –perhaps too much, as a team that dominates its conference during regular season play can have one bad night and see its season go down the drain. Certainly there is drama of the highest kind in the alphabet soup conferences.

No, I’m talking here about the glamour conferences. The ones that dominate media coverage of college basketball. The ones that are amateur in name only. The home of “one and done” players putting in their time before heading to the NBA. The Big East, the Big Ten, the ACC. These conferences have traditionally sent at least four teams to the NCAA tournament each year, and as they’ve grown in size by engulfing major media market teams from smaller conferences, they’ve gained even more at-large bids.

One could argue that the drama for these conference tournaments has been usurped; pretty much every team with a decent record is going to the NCAAs. When you really get down to it, you could actually make the case that winning one of these tournaments is detrimental to a team’s chances for March Madness success. For example, no Big East team has won the NCAA title since the conference expanded to 16 teams and instituted a conference tournament that brings to mind the Bataan Death March. Coincidence?

I do not bring this up merely to watch myself type. I had a decision to make.

Some time ago I committed to an IGTS Tour schedule that included a college basketball conference championship game as Event #99…but since then have waffled spectacularly on which one. Should I attend the high-profile Pac-10 finale, played in L.A.’s Staples Center, or the high-drama, winner-takes-all Big West title game at the Honda Center in Anaheim? Madonna or Cinderella?

Dim All The Lights: Player Intros

Fortunately, Goldstar rode to the rescue, as they’ve done many times in the past. The folks at Goldstar are committed to providing a service that helps people have fun without going broke, and as such have become a kindred spirit to “It’s Game Time Somewhere”. If IGTS had a Board of Directors, Goldstar would certainly have a place at the table. And this time they outdid themselves, arranging not only for complimentary tickets to the Pac-10 Championship, but placing yours truly in premium, lower bowl seating.

Sorry Cinderella, but you’re on your own.

Right from the start it was evident that this game would be a little…non-standard. As you can imagine, I’ve heard the Star-Spangled Banner played waaaaaay more often than the average citizen, and I have to say that the University of Arizona band wins hands-down in terms of “stylistic interpretation” of our national anthem. For those brave enough to try, singing along was a best-efforts endeavor, to be sure.

Washington Defense Collapses On Arizona's Jesse Perry

Once the game began it reaffirmed my opinion that there is no substitution for seeing a game like this in person, despite all of the advances in home entertainment technology. No screen or monitor can adequately capture the vividness of the colors, or convey the towering physical presence of the players. On television, defense looks like an afterthought. In person, defense looks ferocious.

Even before learning of Goldstar’s largesse, my buddy The C.O. had volunteered to forecaddie for me at this penultimate event, adding perspective and schlepping my small stable of multi-media equipment. Early on, his own patent-still-pending Crowd-O-Meter indicated a pretty even split of fan enthusiasm, despite the disproportionate number of Arizona fans in attendance. This didn’t surprise me, as I had learned at the Holiday Bowl in December that U-Dub fans possess significant expertise in raising a ruckus.

They’re also creative about voicing an opinion. I hadn’t noticed it, but apparently the team foul situation had become somewhat lopsided in favor of Arizona in the first half. The Huskie fans had noticed though, and when the first foul of the game called on Arizona was assessed nearly twelve minutes into the game, they gave a lengthy standing ovation to the refs. They were just sayin’…

Washington guard Isaiah Thomas is one of those players that seems like he’s been around well past his four years of eligibility – even though he’s just a junior. I don’t know if it’s because of his famous name (no relation, BTW), or because I’ve just come to expect good players to turn pro at the first feasible instant, but I’ve actually grown to identify the Huskies with Thomas. Just like in the old days, before revolving doors were installed in college basketball locker rooms.

And in this championship game, Isaiah was having a day. He had a hand in almost every one of the 33 points scored by Washington in the first half, scoring 19 and handing out a half-dozen assists. He literally carried the team and kept them alive, heading into halftime down just 36-33.

Pac-10 POY Derrick Williams Contests Shot

On the other hand, Arizona’s best player (and Pac-10 Player of the Year) Derrick Williams had been surprisingly quiet.

For most of the second half though, it was a different story. Williams came to life for the Wildcats – as did many of Thomas’s Washington teammates. Somehow without Thomas scoring a single point, the Huskies clawed their way into the lead. Even the Washington fans contributed, if you’re willing to believe that their sarcastic applause in the first half enhanced the ref’s ability to spot Arizona fouls after the break:  With 11:30 still remaining in the game, the Wildcats were whistled for a foul that would put Washington into the bonus foul-shooting position for the remainder of the festivities.

From that point on, it was anybody’s ballgame.

Instead of feeling like we were hurtling toward a thrilling conclusion though, the game felt more like a trudge to the finish, thanks to that old bugaboo, the television timeout. The combination of actual timeouts that the teams used down the stretch and those of the TV variety served to suck the life out of an otherwise great game.

On the bright side, we did have so much down time there were not one, not two, not three…but four occasions on which promotional items were tossed into the stands during a break in play. My favorite – the Pacific Life Whale Toss. And just in case you were concerned, these were of the furry stuffed variety, not the full 100 tons of slimy blubber.

With 6:55 left in the game, Isaiah Thomas finally broke his scoring drought with a slicing drive to the basket that put Washington up 57-54. He added another acrobatic basket on the next possession and it started to look like impending victory for the underdog Huskies (sorry – last house pet joke of the Tour, I promise). Then things started to unravel for Thomas and U-Dub. Two missed free throws. An airball from way downtown. An offensive foul.

Derrick Williams made two foul shots with 2:55 remaining to put Arizona back on top, 60-59. Moments later he added a three-pointer the old-fashioned way (basket and foul shot) to extend the lead to four points. The Wildcat faithful went…well, wild. Win or lose this game, Arizona was headed to the NCAA tournament. But that didn’t matter – these fans desperately wanted to win their first Pac-10 Tournament Championship since 2002. 

As the clock ticked off the final seconds, they started edging toward the court…

Staggered by having victory in regulation time snatched away, the Wildcats recovered nicely in overtime. But those pesky Huskies refused to go away, eventually taking a 75-72 lead with time running down. Now it was Washington’s turn to revel, and their fans, while fewer in number, shared every bit of the passion for the Pac-10 title.

So now back to the question I previously posed. After an exhaustive couple of hours of field research, I submit to you that YES, college basketball’s conference tournaments mean as much now as they ever did. And even if the NCAA tournament eventually expands to include every last Division I team, winning the conference title will still bring the thrill.

Need proof? Take a look at the reactions to how this game ended…

Isaiah Thomas’s shot at the overtime buzzer may have clinched the Pac-10 title for Washington, but the real winners were the fans. The only downside? The noise level shattered The C.O.’s Crowd-O-Meter, perhaps delaying permanently its new product launch.

Evidently The Pac-10 Championship Matters: To Isaiah Thomas, Anyway

Next Up:  Cracking The Century Mark With Cactus League Baseball    

The University of Delaware

It was the end of an era. Assuming of course, that a time span of just over three months qualifies as an “era”.

On this day, the U.S. Synchronized Team Skating Championships would proudly round out the winter sports portion of the “It’s Game Time Somewhere” Tour.

I have to admit that, once actually onsite I’ve enjoyed each and every one of my Ice & Snow events. It was the process of getting to each venue that provided a steady stream of…how do I put this…“opportunities to exhibit problem-solving skills”. Yeah, that’s it – opportunities. Two feet of opportunity one day. Negative 29 wind-chilled degrees of opportunity the next.   

So I reveled in the irony that the last Ice & Snow event would take place in the winter wonderland of Ontario. Ontario, California, that is, with its 80 degrees of sunshine bathing at least the outer confines of Citizens Business Bank Arena. Granted, it felt a little odd wearing two layers of clothing (and carrying a third) as I crossed the parking lot, but at least I could be sure that here the ice and chill would be confined to the arena.

The University of Western Michigan

Having arrived early for the Collegiate Nationals, The Bird and I took our seats during the latter stages of the Adult Nationals. And in so doing, were welcomed to the confusing lexicon of competition that lives under the umbrella of the U.S. Synchronized Team Skating Championships. In consulting the rudimentary program schedule, we learned that in addition to the divisions listed above, a national title would be awarded in both a Masters and a Senior division.

But here’s the thing – as the day progressed, the skaters in all the divisions looked to be the same age. I’m not exaggerating when I say that if one team each from the Collegiate, Adult, Senior and Masters divisions were lined up, you would be hard-pressed to match team to division.

Intrigued by this, I did some asking around at one of the breaks. Normally the process of acquiring onsite expertise is a bit of a crapshoot. On this day however, information gathering was like shooting fish in a barrel, for wandering all over the concourses, both inside and out, were women bearing medals won earlier in the Championships. And who would know the rules better than one of the competitors?

The University of New Hampshire

What I learned from a conversation with a particularly accommodating group of athletes was that in order to be in the Collegiate Nationals you must be an enrolled student. For a team to compete in the Adult Nationals, it must be made up entirely of skaters that are at least 21 years old – with the majority of the team over the age of 25. For teams in the Masters Nationals, the minimum age is 25, with a majority of skaters over 35 years of age.

OK, so far so good. But then this – a skater in the Senior Nationals can be as young as 14, as long as they have passed “novice” status in a field test.  And here’s the kicker:  The top two teams in the Senior Nationals represent the U.S. in the ISU World Championships – the pinnacle of competition in the sport. Huh?

This struck me as AARP lobbying taken to an extreme. But who was I to argue with the gold medal hanging from around the necks of my semi-captive panel of experts?

The one thing that was clearly shared by all divisions in the Championships was a palpable love of competing as a team. Synchronized skating is not an NCAA-sanctioned sport, even though it carries varsity status at a number of universities. And while the sport does fall under the umbrella of U.S. Figure Skating, the national governing body that is part of the U.S. Olympic Committee consortium, it is not yet included in the Winter Olympics – and therefore not heavily funded.

Net/net – these athletes pay to play, for the most part. And ice time is not cheap. On top of that is the commitment of time required for the pursuit of excellence in skating, both individually and as part of a large choreographed team. It is impossible to oversell the importance of the latter, and not just from a purely competitive standpoint.

The University of Michigan

These women skate in tight formations, in both directions. Often, one athlete is skating backward, directly on course for a teammate who is also skating backward at her. It must take a lot of trust to know that your teammate isn’t going to take that one extra step or spin. And that kind of trust only comes from a lot of practice, during which more than a few unintentional body checks are no doubt delivered. Particularly chilling to consider as I watched, was the potential consequences of one skater’s face being in the wrong place at the wrong time when a teammate lifted her skate into the air.

Yet in spite of the cost, the sacrifice of time, the risk of injury and the assumption of step-sister status within both the NCAA and the U.S. Figure Skating Association, these women were all simply thrilled to be here. The looks on their faces at the completion of their performance was priceless, as was their reaction on the podium when their scores came in – no matter where in the standings that score placed them.

It was authentic. And it was heart-warming to watch.

SUNY Oswego Does Upstate Proud

For the most part, the schools that had proceeded through regional qualification to earn a spot in the Collegiate Nationals were those that you would expect to see. The lineup was dominated by large universities from Frost Belt locations. But one qualifier drew more than its share of “Huh? Where’s that?” from the crowd – the Ice Effects from Oswego State.

Known more precisely as the State University of New York at Oswego, this small Upstate institution sits directly on the shore of Lake Ontario. I have been to Oswego State. I have been to Oswego State in the winter. I still have nightmares about eight-foot walls of snow and winds so strong that sidewalks at the school are outfitted with rope handrails to help people remain upright while negotiating their way across campus.

Needless to say, I was pulling hard for the Ice Effects. They were dressed in pink and black (actually fuchsia and black, according to The Bird), and much to my delight, they performed to an upbeat mix of U2 songs.  And bless their hearts – in this strange foreign land of sunshine, warmth, and dry pavement, they…well, they didn’t finish last.

The University of Wisconsin

The University of Wisconsin sent a talented group of athletes. Unfortunately, they also sent a choreographer who was a refugee from Off Off Broadway. Thus the team’s routine was inexplicably done to a medley of songs and soliloquies, obviously taken from a dramatic play. It must have been hard to impress an audience and a panel of judges while trying to skate to someone angrily reciting poetry. Sure enough, two girls fell, and as they scrambled to get back into the team’s rhythm, they had to have felt a little bit like they were being yelled at by Vincent Price.

Miami University Prepares To Dazzle

When Miami University took the ice, we didn’t have to be told that they were the defending champion – or that they had won 12 previous national titles. It was clear in the way that they carried themselves. And it didn’t matter that in a twelve-team competition they had drawn the tenth performance slot – one not normally known for its high recall value. They brought down the house.

They were crisp. They were athletic. They exuded fun.

And they clearly did everything that judges like to see done (whatever that is), because when it was over, their score of 96.16 was nearly 11 points higher than that of second-place Michigan State.

Medalist Teams (l to r): Michigan State (2nd), Miami (1st), Michigan (3rd), Western Michigan (4th)

As I peeled off clothing in preparation for heading outside, I felt a wonderful pang of regret that has grown familiar over the past year. This was the last event on the IGTS Tour that would serve as my introduction to a new sport. The last time I would be delighted by yet another unique and fascinating way that people seek to test their skills and compete for the sheer love of competing.

I’m going to miss being clueless about little things like…well, like the rules of the game I’m watching. But mostly I’m going to miss asking an informed observer to explain them to me, and sensing the passion that they feel for their sport when they do so.

Next Up:  The Pre-Madness of College Basketball’s Conference Championship Week