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Toronto Blue Jays Flying High

9/25/2015

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Toronto hasn't been this buzzed since Mayor Rob Ford allegedly got high on crack cocaine, marijuana, and heroin. But this time the buzz is all Blue Jays baseball, not hizzonner taking a fall.

So far this 2015 season they’ve lead all teams in homers with 214. They’ve had two ten game win streaks. Last team to do this: the Kansas City Royals, way back in 1977. The fans are flocking to the park in numbers unmatched since 1995.

Geezers will tell you the Jays won the World Series way back in 1992 and 1993 but since then they had not made the playoffs, the only team in Major League Baseball to be so futile. In 2004 they changed their logo to a mean-looking blue jay. This artistic gesture in intimidation didn’t fool anybody, including the team. They opened up the season at Skydome going 0-8. Even worse, Rogers Communications changed the name of the retractable-roof iconic stadium to Rogers Centre. Atrocious.


When the organization wasn’t atrocious they were awfully puzzling. Hiring Gord Ash as their General Manager was odd. Gord looks like Mike Myers Doctor Evil, which is fine, but the man had never played elite baseball, which was not so fine. He started in the ticket department for the club. He must have sold the brass on his acumen, but his record as GM from 1995 to 2001 was a No-Doctor-Evil-In-Excellence-Here: 541-575.

In 2008, however, the Jays did pull off the steal-swap trade of the year getting Jose Bautista, now a homerun heavy hitter and three-time Silver Slugger Award winner, from the Pittsburgh Pirates, for catcher Robinzon Diaz. Robinzon played but one season with the Pirates. So the Jays sometimes did a thing right. But their record, summed up, from 1994 on? Yech.

But Jay fans, unlike Maple Leaf followers, are discriminating. If the team stinks, they don’t show. Now, the team is soaring like in 1993 when boozy, woozy Boris Yeltsin ran Russia. And today Torontonians are drunk on the air of expectation (and of boozy breath,
TO bars and restaurants are doing booming business.)

So, of late, bookies have them as best bets to win the World Series. Their run differential – 217 – is tops and is 103 more than the 2nd best St. Louis Cardinals.

They're contending for glory because of good baseball (especially on defense) and great trades. GM Alex Anthopoulos lauds his scouts and development staff for turning prospects into trade bait. Three minor league pitchers went from the Jays to Detroit for AAA dominant pitcher David Price, for example. Price, true, is a “rental” player, eligible for free agency at season’s end. But remember how successful the Jays were after acquiring star pitcher David Cone, also a rental? With Cone, the team won its first World Series in 1992. But unlike this year, the 1992 win didn’t come out of the blue. From the mid 80’s to early 90’s the organization, year in and year out, fielded quality teams, winning five division championships.

Nowadays, the new guys, LF Ben Revere, relievers LaTroy Hawkins (42-years old) and Mark Lowe, ace shortstop Troy Tulowitzki and Price have contributed - and the team is flourishing, with defense to neatly go along with the juggernaut offense. (But trepidation tolls a tad; Tulowitzki broke his shoulder blade mid September.)

Lord knows the city needed a jolt. When Rob Ford got cancer - a tumor in the abdomen - his re-election campaign for mayorship foundered and a decent, but boring bloke, John Tory took over.


So, other than the burgeoning raccoon population, Torontonians have had nothing to go crazy about in decades. True, the basketball Raptors made some noise last season but totally collapsed in a first round shellacking to Washington Wizards.

Actually, along with the Rob Ford’s highs, and the Blue Jays hitting it sky high, Toronto has hit another high. The Economist ranked it as the “best place to live.” Obviously The Economist has never experienced the bus or subway system but let’s never mind...

In fact, until 2015, the only resurgence of birds had been of the cormorant type. In 2000 Toronto was designated a globally important bird area...but now Canada’s most populous city is truly for the birds, the Jaybirds of baseball.

Euphoria and puppy-dog love for the team has gotten so big that transplanted Torontonians across Canada meet at the pub, cheer the boys on. The Damn Yankees have been the big opposition this year. And, wouldn’t you know, the pinstripe pansies stopped the Jays from winning their 12th consecutive, besting the lads 4-3.


Everyone knows of the Bronx Bombers exalted history. But the bolstered Jays are playing like a team on a mission, that doesn’t fear reputations from the past or present: they beat the Yankees 13-6 in head to head games this year. The team is cohesive and cohere which discombobulates and deliriously disturbs “Tranna” fans.  

Whether Toronto deserves a winner, is arguable. Whether the city needs one, is not. The Blue Jays, for years, have been on tight budgets, and the fidgety fan base dwindled as the team would be out of contention by late spring, early summer, August at the very latest. But because this team, since the Montreal Expos relocated to Washington DC, is the only one in major league baseball north of the USA, the whole country that lives outside of Toronto, has - for the most part - put aside its loathing of Toronto and Torontonians - to cheer for the men who hail from mainly the States, the Caribbean, and South America.

But there is one bona fide Canadian star. He was even born in Toronto. He is catcher Russell Martin. He only cost 82 million. (A tight budget is a relative term when talking MLB.) But his worth to the franchise - and to the self-worth of fans across this huge expanse of Canadian land - should the Jays take it all this fall -

will be:

Buzzing priceless.

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James Lawrence Iron Cowboy awesome story

9/18/2015

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Was Mr. James Lawrence completely off his rocker? He completed 50 Ironman competitions in 50 states, in 50 days.

Nope. He rocked. He rolled. He lived, lives.

Big sigh: why? Why trash your body, perhaps do it irreparable harm eventually? James already had an audience after setting a world record, by finishing 30 of these swimming-cycling-running feats in a single year. So what was the deal?

He says the deal was “...to find my mental, physical limits...” and to help raise awareness of child obesity. Certainly his bodacious, beautiful, body advertises athleticism, and would awe the small fry, but just so you know kids, a healthy body and mind can come from running around and spending way less time in front of the TV or computer. You don’t literally have to follow in his footsteps!

Now the goal of reducing the percentage of fat kids in our midst is laudable, but everyone should be aware of childhood obesity already, at least in the USA. There, as of 2012, 18% of kids between 6 and 11 were deemed obese.

And that number rose from 7% in 1980, so obviously obesity amongst children is rising. Strategies to combat or curtail this trend have basically failed to date.

So, of late, Lawrence tied on the shoes, tugged on the shorts, underwent 8-to-11 hour training sessions, figured out the travelling logistics, and carted around a chiropractor and masseuse – to keep him keeping on for this mammoth marathon of marathons.

The Iron Cowboy, that’s his nickname, stressed that another reason for his tortuous trek was to set a good example for his son and four daughters. His kids (there for the whole journey) judging by their excitement at Dad finishing up in Utah, were excited, not intimidated, but might not other youngsters feel daunted? They might feel they’ll never be able to measure up to James’s stratospheric standards...

James Lawrence may have an answer for that. When not being a family man, or competing (against himself, for he’s in a league of his own) like a madman, culminating in this mind-boggling 50 days of 5,600 miles cycled, 120 miles swum, and 1,310 miles ran, he coaches and gives motivational talks.  

James does rest, though. Here’s evidence. Here’s a 16 second video of him sleeping, after he got some blood work done.

And he does have a dynamic wife. Sunny Lawrence is his inspiration and main supporter. She has studied psychology – and that may help her put James’s goals and life - in a proper light.

Lawrence, throughout his ordeal, was basically on track, though she’ll admit he’d get occasionally discouraged during his training preparation. But once his journey began officially, he’d not only perform, but he’d chat with the press, like when he brought his road show through Kansas. It was his 10th stop on his: 50.50.50 challenge. He explained how he was doing.

You know what the hardest part was?

Working out the travelling schedule.

And the biggest factor to consider? Knowing it would take YEARS of preparation.

Keys to success: “...work...focus...commitment...”

Aftermath, as of September 15th, “...he’s out of shape...suffering from body dysmorphia.”

Lawrence is a straight shooter. He’s not trying to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes...

But for him, ultimately, he pulled it all together, at home in Utah, on a sunny July 25th to robust cheers from the crowd and to heartfelt hugs from his family, when he crossed the finish line.

Each Ironman segment, before finish lines, presented problems. In Illinois, his hammertoe condition gave him a very painful blister. Off came the toenail. At Santa Cruz, he had his first swim in an ocean. The ocean was, for an ocean, fairly balmy - at 60 degrees, but that’s colder than your average lake. Worse yet, the showers after the swim were unheated! Off came body warmth.

Brrr...

Zzzz...

Zzzz?

Yeah, how much sleep did he get between these 14+ hour events? Not always enough. He fell asleep riding his bike in the Tennessee race and smacked asphalt. (In Nevada, he had four flat tires.)

But basically, through the first five expeditions, for example, the most sleep he had, between events – was five hours. Geez, that’s not enough sleepy time for most of us, and that’s after just a normal day’s exertion. This complete, ultra-endurance athlete had to rest off 140.6 sweaty miles per day. Somehow James survived, and revived, to arrive the next day to finish yet another Ironman, on around five hours of sleep. So hard to believe. But it’s true.

James Lawrence truly did prevail. His fastest time was in his last race in Utah! But, again, we “normal” folks and families need not literally follow his example. He’d be ok with that. But he’d be more than ok if we lent our support to the Jamie Oliver Food Foundation, which partnered with Lawrence, to fight child obesity by teaching kids “positive eating habits that will last a lifetime.” (And we parents should also look in the mirror, not to compare ourselves to this gritty guy, but to honestly appraise ourselves: a recent study shows that 78% of us with obese kids considered our offspring as being “about right in weight?”)

Let’s take the blinders off. Let’s not look through rose-colored glasses. Let’s make Lawrence’s colossal cross-country course last, mean something. Let us take our own steps to stem the tide of increasing youth obesity, so kids DO live as long as their parents. (If things don’t change, in the States, they might not.)

That’s a tide the Iron Cowboy would gladly swim through again and again.

 

 

 

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Rugby World Cup 2015 - England's Jewel?

9/11/2015

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The Rugby World Cup 2015 is England’s to muck up. The host is no patsy, ranked fourth, but must cope with fierce fan expectations and screw ups like The Olympic Stadium, in its first rugby showing EVER, literally hosing the two teams, Samoa and the Barbarians. They are all wet.

Wi-Fi there, too, was in short supply, and not a word of a lie, infants - for instance - must have folks pay for their tickets, while folks, who aren’t getting fleeced through false ticket on-line scams, are getting short ended and slammed shut through, possibly, Twickenham, the titled home of English Rugby Proper, barring customers to its pubs after 10 pm. And unbelievably, the lads can’t wear their home, white jerseys; they have to wear their reds, in their opening match against Fiji.)

To add insult to injury Rugby Football Union’s director, an Englishman named Rob Andrew, blasphemed that England is two to three years away from peaking – eeks!

England did win in 2003, but they are the only northern hemisphere team to win the RWC since it first debuted in 1987. To their credit they’ve also been runner-up, twice but southern-super sides, New Zealand, South Africa, and Australia have each won twice. Why does the south stomp on the north so? We’ll get back to that.

First, clinical facts. The fantastic and famous All Blacks of New Zealand won the 2011 edition. They edged France 8-7. Since then, the squad has won 42 of 47 matches, by being fleet, by running foes off their feet with accurate passing, yet are they a sure bet? Their followers are wondering: do they have the balls to defend their title? That’s a big cross to bear.

All teams, though, religiously or otherwise, show that Rugby’s not for the fey of spirit (though teams can choke) or for the floundering of speed, but is for the aggressive, adaptable, adroit – agile. Moreover, having dexterous enough players who have the stuff to swerve from crushing tackles won’t hurt either...

(We must remember the All Blacks enduring THREE fly-halfs, in injury, in the First HALF of the 2011 finale.)

Yet, nevertheless, what may be the most ruthless stage of rugby play is during team selections. Andrew Trimble was the 2014 player of the year for Ireland. Coach Schmidt didn’t pick him for the 2015 RWC squad. Ouch.

Expectedly, New Zealand, as of September 11th 2015 is ranked number one. England, as mentioned, sits at fourth, while America, the Eagles, are perched at 15th.  But here’s a head snapper: some say rugby is the fastest growing sport in the US of A.

What has also been growing is the realization, to the somewhat churly chagrin of fans of Northern Hemisphere teams, is that their teams get beaten consistently by Southern Hemisphere teams, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa.

Basically, the latter emphasize offense over defense and oomph athleticism and skill over brute force and stolid play-drill.

So southern fans not only bask in the glory of rooting for the best, but also watch a much more captivating game. But both hemispheres adhere to Rugby’s  commandments, some of which, boiled down to warrior level, see hacking and stomping as taboos, while believing that imbibing and recognizing rules, are must do’s.

History will be made at this year’s tournament. Georgian teenager Vasil Lobzhanidze will premiere as the youngest combatant ever. He’s 18, a scrum-half, and for a young bloke he’d fit right in on the USA’s unit for they have 20 players who’ll be experiencing the RWC for the first time. Making its debut, too, will be Hawk-Eye’s enhanced video replay and review technology. Excellent! Let’s pan in on those hot, rugby thighs.

Big body picture? The 2003 Rugby World Cup had a TV audience of 3.5 billion. Guestimated profits for this year’s bash? Over 200 million pounds or 336 million. Sponsors Fujitsu, Master Card, Emirates airline, DHL, Land Rover, Societe Generale SA, and Heineken NV will be as happy as clams.

In ’87 there were 200 million in front of the telly with beer-full bellies. In 2011, still with a beer in hand, we were Boob-Tube-glued, 4 billion of us, watching the Rugby World Cup. We were spread over sofas, reclined over some 207 territories.

Yet England is the territory that is facing huge pressure. (Wales is likewise, for it is hosting some games at Cardiff’s Millennium Stadium.) Some of the English players have reacted poorly to the limelight. Manu Tuilagi – he pleaded guilty to assaulting a police officer. He’s off the team, and off the charts in idiocy.

Realistically, carrying home-fan hopes, even on broad shoulders isn’t easy. Media and hype run 24-7. Will England be drained from all the attention, or will they be energized?

Here and there, England and all the competitors should be able to rise above burgled balls, poor kicks, lousy calls, and sloppy slicing through lines, because the sport, as any booster will tell you, is great. Casual fans should, also, be able to rise above their lack of knowledge of rugby terminology and history. All anyone needs to know is that the sport is number three, behind the summer Olympics and Soccer’s World Cup, in planetary popularity. And with the RWC but days away, after a four-year wait, the whole world anticipates seeing the best athletic action – a six-week brawl.  

But despite the mucks ups so far, if anyone can memorably host the RWC, and play well in it, it’d be England. They’ve produced some tremendous leaders in all fields, Michael Caine - acting, Robert Plant - music, Winston Churchill - politics, the Queen Mother - royalty, to almost guarantee that this should be a jewel of a show. Go England go!

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Log Riding Japan's Onbashira Festival!

9/4/2015

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It ain’t a kamikaze deal, but it’s close. Want to see a festival of unhinged men in a freaky, fantastic, fearsome stunt? Have you ever log rolled? Sure, a few have. But have you ridden a huge, lumbering log down a steep hill? No? Well if you are Japanese, and a young man wishing to prove his bravery, there’s a chance you have – and maybe lived to tell the tale, this festive tale, courtesy of the Onbashira Festival.

Loud drums, or is that the heartbeat of the many riders – set the pace. And then the ride of hell, upon these honored pillars, for that’s what Onbashira means, unfolds. Two teams in front of the log tug their rope to get that log ready to roll.

The frequency of this proverbial and literal log-riding race to the bottom happens every six years. (If you are in festive mood and can’t wait six years the Japanese have thoughtfully sprung an annual festival celebrating the penis. You could take that in...) Finding trees big enough might be one reason for the infrequency. Finding semi-sane participants willing to shed, if only briefly, mental decency, might be another...

The logs are Japanese fir trees, about 200 years old, which hung out on Mount Yatsugatake.  The logs are needed for the shrine, you see.

Don’t see? Not to worry. Legend has it that this mountain was higher than Mount Fuji, but the Fuji goddess took Yatsugatake down a peg; out of spite...Don’t understand? Don’t worry about that either...

But understand this: if you gotta go and meet your maker, go honorably; go off the deep end via the Kiotoshi – the act of insane men riding these logs down the dangerous slope. My sense of dying honorably is a little more pedestrian and practical. If I’m not glued to a bedpan and strapped to a respirator, I’ll consider myself as having gone out as a warrior.

Where were we?

The nasty word notorious is sometimes used to describe the festivities as in the "notorious tree-sliding festival." Seems harsh. While this spiritual-cultural offering may not be westerners’ cup of tea, what might Japanese think of Nathan's hot dog eating contest, or bull riding?


Bull riding occurs at the Calgary Stampede, for example. Animal activists would like to shutter up the Stampede, saying it is cruel to animals. But who would have the nerve to demand this log ride religious rite be stopped, saying it is cruel to people? Gotta reckon nobody. Who is going to buck with a tradition going back some 1,200 years? What’s weird is that the log riders, some of them at least, wave one hand in the air, like bull riders in the Stampede do.

The handpicked? logs, 16 in all, each are about 1 m wide and 16 m long. Each Shrine will get four of these trunks. They weigh some 20,000 pounds.

One must go off the beaten track momentarily here and wonder if the weight of dying honorably, or getting maimed honorably, as opposed to living dishonorably with wood splinters in the bum - that could cause a premature disembark – dishonorable discharge - weighs heavier than the logs...

500,000 folks took in the 2010 festival and you can bet your bottom dollar most weren't there to absorb Shinto theories, niceties, and real-life ramifications but were there to see who survived and who got squashed. And unless you are a Japanese citizen you can't ride the lumbering logs. A boon and blessing, in other words.


Japanese were once thought of, before political correctness demanded that acceptable thoughts be vapid, euphemistic, and wrong - as inscrutable. Outsiders couldn’t figure them out from the get go and surely, riding down logs, holding onto a rope for safety – and on for dear life - is unfathomable to not only outsiders, but to many Japanese themselves.


But, boy, the Japanese that surround the log before, during, and after its rock and roll  swarm it like ants. They could be exalting or exhuming bodies, hard to tell which, they’re in such a frenzy. Shinto religious figures are around. So are, what look to be cheerleaders waving the biggest tasseled white-blond wigs in the world.  Bands, dressed up in costumes so colorful the hues boggle the mind, play energetically. The crowd sings songs, or chants. Whistles toot. What sounds like a bugle corps gets its two cents in. Constabularies in white gloves, white-flat-topped, black banded caps - with white shirts and dark ties - keep surging crowds back from the track. Officials carrying huge variously-colored flags lead the procession downhill while some figures in all-white get ups stand en masse exhorting the crowd. Then folks with white smoke billowing from torches run down the hill. All in all, it’s great theater, a magnificent mishmash, a true spectacle, a sight for any eye.

In riding logs, the participants might say they’d never lose their principles, though they might lose their lives. For them, the risk is worth it. At least they’re not sitting on their duffs watching the world pass them by. They’re actors, players, combatants in an epic battle of knotty tree versus kooky humanity.

Perhaps, too, Shinto with its many gods has a spirit of soft landings that could be prayed to. Definitely, it would seem that the Shinto religion and culture emboldens nerve. It would seem to be a spiritual essence that knows no set-line boundaries, and thus the sheer enjoyment and self-satisfaction from log riding knows no bounds. They have a saying: even the wishes of an ant reach to heaven. Sounds like the riders are infused with a belief that anything is possible – like living through an Onbashira ride.

Course, being crazy to try this log-jam on for size can’t hurt either...

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