You've probably seen this by now. If not... enjoy.
Peace.
ML
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Worst. World Series. Ever. (Well, tied)
If there's one thing in my life that approaches my love for my wife, my family and my dog, it's my passion for baseball, specifically the St. Louis Cardinals and the World Series. As I type, Mike Lowell is being handed the World Series MVP trophy for 2007, as the Red Sox finished off a four-game sweep of the Colorado Rockies. The brief, unremarkable series got me thinking: Is it possible to quantify the "greatness" of a World Series? And I came to the conclusion that, on a subjective basis, it is. So, as I watched the closing innings of this game, I tried to do just that.
A few numbers jumped out at me. This was my 20th season of closely (nay, obsessively) following Major League Baseball. I have vague memories of watching the 1987 series with my dad. I have concrete memories of staying up late to watch the 1988 playoffs with him, chanting "Mets are pondscum" during the '88 NLCS, etc. That's where my timeline begins. Unfortunately, that means I have only 19 World Series to evaluate, since 1994 was a strike washout. Say thank'ya!
A final caveat: I am a St. Louis Cardinals fan, and without apology. Any series that included the Cardinals got an extra three points in my (again, subjective!) ratings. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you skew your OWN ratings. Unless you're a Cubs fan, because then there would be no Series ratings to skew. Honestly, unless the Cardinals are involved, you won't find a more unbiased baseball fan, so I feel I'm mostly qualified to make this analysis.
The criteria and somewhat arbitrary scoring system:
Length of series: All things being equal, I want to see a long series, even if FOX doesn't. Points are weighted double for each game it progresses past a four-game sweep (zero points).
+2 for a five-game series
+4 for a six-game series
+8 for a seven-games series
Winning the series at home: All things being equal, I want to see a team celebrate a championship on its home field. It makes the conclusion infinitely more satisfying.
+3 for clinching a championship at home.
Being "Old-School": Okay, I'll admit. I'm what you might call a baseball snob--a "purist" in the old tongue. Any series that includes a team that existed--EVEN IN ANOTHER CITY, BY ANOTHER NAME--in the pre-expansion era gets bonus points.
+2 for pre-expansion participants PER TEAM.
Signature moments: This is where this list exits the realm of science and becomes purely subective. No fan is going to remember exactly the same moments from any given series. However, as a (mostly) unbiased, ever-watching baseball fan, I'm confident that if I can't remember a Series-"defining" moment, not many people can. What are defining moments? Pretty much any dramatic, noteworthy play, accomplishment or factor that the history books will note in, say, 25 years. Example: You remember Reggie's three-homer game in 1977 against the Dodgers; do you remember anything about the 1978 Series, also against the Dodgers? Or the 1979 Series between the O's and Pirates, for that matter? 'Nuff said.
+3 for every "Signature" moment as defined by this blog's master, Matt Lemmon
Without further ado, my best World Series' ever. (And, yes, this blog post's title gave away the 2007 Series' ranking.)
1991-Minnesota Twins over Atlanta Braves: 33 points
I didn't need math to tell you this one was the best I've seen. I was in the sixth grade, fixated on nothing but baseball (the girl I was "going out" with will attest to that). This series was my first proof that A.) A series could go seven games and B.) include a team other than Oakland. The result: A classic.
+8: Seven-game series (home team won every game)
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams (the Twins were the original Washington Senators, so I counted them. The '91 series would have won handily regardless)
+18: Six signature moments. Perhaps I'm being generous here, seeing as how I watched every OUT, which is something I can't say for every series, but here are the things I remember:
--Kirby Puckett's Game 6 catch to rob Ron Gant of a go-ahead home run-->
--Kirby Puckett's Game 6 walk-off home run (and Jack Buck's "And we'll see you.... tomorrow night! call).
--Jack Morris's 10 shutout innings in Game 7.
--Gene Larkin's walk-off Texas leaguer to win Game 7.
--Some unnamed Brave scoring on a sac fly to win game four or five in Atlanta (I just remember it being dramatic)
--Lonnie Smith being duped into a baserunning error by the Twins' second baseman, and thus not scoring the go-ahead run in Game Seven.
--Minnesota's Dan Gladden plowing over Atlanta catcher Gregg Olson (SP?) at the plate, creating that unforgettable image.
2001-Arizona Diamondbacks over New York Yankees: 25 points
Many would argue this was the best series ever, and if it weren't for the non-stop drama of 1991, I'd agree. Heightening this Series's import were the September 11 attacks, barely a month before this series, which pushed the final games into November, an unheard-of thing. When the D-backs won, it almost seemed they should have apologized for twisting the knife in the heart of a messed up city, but really, this series was it's own reward for the whole nation.
+8: Seven-game series (another where the home team won every game)
+2: One old-school team (NY)
+3: Won at home
+12: Signature moments. I'm admittedly giving this one a bit of an emotional boost because it came so quickly after 9/11, and included a team from New York. So sue me.
--George W. Bush (hssssst!) throwing out the first pitch of Game 3/post-9/11 hoopla
--Scott Brosius walk-off, Game 4
--Tino Martinez's walk-off, Game 5. I watched both of these home runs from the exact same spot on back-to-back nights--lying on my left side watching the tiny TV in my then-girlfriend's room (sorry mom, but it's true). It's the most overwhelming feeling of deja vu I've ever had.
--Luis Gonzalez's walk-off single to win Game 7.
2002-Anaheim Angels over San Francisco Giants: 19 points
This one surprised me, and not just because I spent the entirety of the series on my honeymoon (those nights sleeping over in 2001 paid off). Granted, it went seven games, and I gave a "signature moment" status to Dusty Baker's kid almost getting run over at the plate, but how can you not?
+8: Seven-game series
+2: One old-school team (SF)
+3: Won at home
+6: Signature moments
--Angels comeback in Game 5. Giants manager Dusty Baker had even given the damn game ball to his starter, and then the Halos come back to win it. I don't recall much about Games 6 and 7, except that I watched Game 7 from the terminal of LAX, waiting for a plane to Chicago (not 10 miles from the Angels' stadium, or so they say). But fairly dramatic, anyway.
--Aforementioned toddler-in-the-basebaths incident.
1996-New York Yankees over Atlanta Braves: 17 points
When the Yanks won this series, I was a bit nieve. After all, it had been 18 years since they'd won one: I hadn'tt even been (quite) conceived when they repeated in 1978. The Braves were the big bad bullies, trying to repeat... well, we all know what happened after that. Still this was a pretty remarkable series, the Yankees losing the first two games overwhelmingly (at home!) and then winning four straight, culminating in the best celebration to date...
+4: Six-game series
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams
+6: Signature moments
--Wade Boggs on the back of a NY police horse, high-fiving fans. Indeed, ALL of the Yankees high-fiving fans. The Boggs part seemed a bit incestuous, since I remembered him as a Red Sock (though it wasn't quite as incestuous as seeing him get his 3,000th hit as a Devil Ray).
--Andruw Jones hitting homers in his first two WS at-bats as a 19-year-old. I was impressed by it, what can I say?
1997-Florida Marlins over Cleveland Indians: 16 points
The lowest-ranked over all my seven-game series, this was the first time I'd watched a series and wondered, "What the hell is THAT team doing there?" But Florida shocked us all, as several teams have since.
+8: Seven-game series
+3: Won at home
+2: One old-school team (CLE)
+3: Signature moments
--Edgar Renteria's walk-off single to score Craig Counsell is all I really remember. Tony Fernandez booting a ball at second base immediately preceded that, but I'm going to lump them together.
2006-St. Louis Cardinals over Detroit Tigers: 15 points
Okay, okay, okay. This one likely only makes it this high because, you know, my Cardinals WON. But the fact that it went an extra game (and the drama from that game) plus the fact that two storied franchises were participating helped make it the highest-rated five- or four-game series on the list (and even beat one six-game series).
+2: Five-game series
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams
+6: Signature moments
--Did I mention the Cardinals WON?
--Game 2, Kenny Rogers and the dirty smudge on his hand. Quite the controversy, no? I wonder why he barely pitched in 2008?
1993-Toronto Blue Jays over Philadelphia Phillies: 15 points
The highest-ranked of the non-seven game series, this one is most notable for its final play, and the fact that the Jays were the first team to repeat since the '77-'78 Yankees. But it had its fair share of drama.
+4: Six-game series
+3: Won at home
+2: One old-school team (PHI)
+6: Signature moments
--Joe Carter's walk-off, Game 7 home run off of Mitch Williams. This really should get more points, but a moment's a moment. It's not two moments.
--Maybe this makes up for the lack of gravitas for Carter's bomb: Remember Game 4, when the teams combined for 29 runs, and the Jays prevailed 15-14. Holy crap. I remember watching that game and shaking my head the whole time.
1988-Los Angeles Dodgers over Oakland Atheltics: 12 points
I'm somewhat partial to this series, though the numbers don't bear me out. It's the first series I got jazzed about, watching the entire playoffs with my dad. It also coincided nicely with our first fall in Ozark after moving from Texas... it was sort of a new life for us all, though I was less acutely aware of the fact than my parents were. Anyway, Game 1 is all anyone really needs to remember about this series.
+2: Five-game series
+4: Two old-school teams
+6: Signature moments
--Duh. A limping Kirk Gibson's walk-off homer in Game 1 is perhaps the most famous World Series home run of our generation. Accentuating the drama, for me, is my hero Jack Buck's call: "I don't be-LIEVE what I just saw!" Wow.
--I also remember Jose Canseco's huge home run in Game 1 that bounced off the CBS camera. It was a ridiculous year for Canceco (and also might have been the signature year of the steriod era, save '98 McGwire and '01 Bonds), and that home cemented it.
1995-Atlanta Braves over Cleveland Indians: 11 points
Poor Atlanta. More playoff trips than any of these teams and their only win is only this high. That's because, other than the fact that they actually WON (at home, against another old-school team), it was a wholly unremarkable series. In fact, I couldn't remember a single significant moment. Maybe I had play practice or something.
+4: Six-game series
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams
2004-Boston Red Sox over St. Louis Cardinals: 10 points
For a sweep, this one was chock full of drama (it's the highest-rated four-game series, but only because of the teams involved). But not for Cardinals fans. For Cardinals fans, this series blew.
+4: Two old-school teams
+6: Signature moments
--First series I'd ever seen the Cardinals in
--Red Sox first series win in a bajillion years or something like that
2000-New York Yankees over New York Mets: 10 points
Subway Series! Though, forgive me, I doubt it lacked the panache of those old Brooklyn-New York matchups. The Yanks were in their prime here, though it probably should have been a bit closer than it was.
+2: Five-game series
+2: One old-school team (NYY)
+6: Signature moments
--It was a Subway Series. Good for the press.
--The whole "Roger Clemens-threw-a-broken-bat-at-Mike-Piazza thing, but not really." That was pretty good theater.
1992-Toronto Blue Jays over Atlanta Braves: 9 points
I must admit, when I was really young and chose teams based on the prettiness of their uniforms (you can make gay jokes, but the Jays' '80s unis were pretty damn attractive), the Jays were my team. So I was a bit happy when they made it to the Fall Classic for the first time in 1992. But, alas, other than a nationalistic faux pas before Game 1, I don't remember a damn thing about this series.
+4: Six-game series
+2: One old-school team (ATL)
+3: Signature moments
-Before Game 1 (or possibly Game 2) in Atlanta, whoever presented the Canadian colors had the flag UPSIDE DOWN. I mean, c'mon, it was the first time a Canadian team had ever made the Series. You can forgive a ROTC schmuck for not knowing what a right-side-up maple leaf looks like, right?
2003-Florida Marlins over New York Yankees: 9 points
I suppose a six-game series should get more points than this. Maybe it's a flaw in my rating system. But really, do YOU consider this a more memorable series than the Dodgers in '88? Or the Sox in '04? Didn't think so.
+4: Six-game series
+2: One old-school team (NYY)
+3: Signature moment
-Miggy Cabrera hit a go-ahead homer late in game four or five. I'm being REALLY generous here.
1989-Oakland Athletics over San Francisco Giants: 7 points
Poor A's. The dominant team of my early basebal-fandom, and the only reason they're this high is because of the San Andreas fault.
+4: Two old-school teams
+3: Signature moment
-The earthquake immediately before Game 3. Drama on live TV. Yowers.
1999-New York Yankees over Atlanta Braves: 7 points
Shi**y, shi**t series. Only here because the teams were historical and it was the NL's year for home-field advantage.
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams
2005-Chicago White Sox over Houston Astros: 5 points
I was too busy (and pissed at the 'Stros) to watch much of this one. It's a miracle it ranks this high.
+2: One old-school team (CHW)
+3: Signature moment
-Scott Podsednik's walk-off homer in Game 2, further crucifying Brad Lidge, who had been rendered almost impotent by Albert Pujols in Game 5 of the NLCS.
1990-Cincinnati Reds over Oakland Athletics: 4 points
Now we're just going through the motions. Name one thing about this series (Reds fans, pipe down) other than Eric Davis brusing his kidney.
+4: Two old-school teams
1998-New York Yankees over San Diego Padres: 2 points
The only thing I remember about this series is that I was a freshman in college, and I was drunk, trying to impress one of my older fraternity members with all my knowlegdge about the Padres (which, for a drunk 18-year-old, was quite a damn bit). Ugh.
+2: One old-school team (NYY)
2007-Boston Red Sox over Colorado Rockies: 2 points
This series hasn't been over for two HOURS and I can't tell you a single memorable moment. I guess the last two games were close... but so what? It seemed pretty foregone from the moment the Sox went up 6-0 in Game 1. Reminds me of 2004, except without the question of how the Sox could conceivably blow it.
+2: One old-school team (BOS)
Total NL teams I've seen in the Series: 12 of 16 (all but PIT, CHN, WSH/MTL, MIL)
Total AL teams I've seen in the Series: 9 of 14 (all but TB, BAL, KC, SEA, TEX)
Total series wins leaders:
NYY-4 ('96, '98,'99,'00)
TOR-2 ('92, '93)
FLA-2 ('97, '03)
BOS-2 ('04, '07)
LAD-1 ('88)
OAK-1 ('89)
CIN-1 ('90)
MIN-1 ('91)
ATL-1 ('95)
ARZ-1 ('01)
LAA-1 ('02)
CHW-1 ('05)
STL-1 ('06)
Teams I've seen play in the most series:
NYY-6 ('96, '98, '99, '00, '01, '03)
ATL-5 ('91, '92, '95, '96, '99)
OAK-3 ('88, '89, '90)
TOR-2 ('92, '93)
BOS-2 ('04, '07)
FLA-2 ('97, '03)
STL-2 ('04, '06)
SF-2 ('89, '02)
CLE-2 ('95, '97)
ARZ-1 ('01)
LAA-1 ('01)
CHW-1 ('05)
LAD-1 ('88)
CIN-1 ('90)
MIN-1 ('91)
PHI-1 ('93)
SD-1 ('98)
NYM-1 ('00)
HOU-1 ('05)
DET-1 ('06)
COL-1 ('07)
Thanks for bearing with me on my anal-retentive trip down memory lane. It was fun. Rip apart my ratings in the comments, if you wish, and here's hoping that next year's Series is up there on the list.
Peace.
ML
A few numbers jumped out at me. This was my 20th season of closely (nay, obsessively) following Major League Baseball. I have vague memories of watching the 1987 series with my dad. I have concrete memories of staying up late to watch the 1988 playoffs with him, chanting "Mets are pondscum" during the '88 NLCS, etc. That's where my timeline begins. Unfortunately, that means I have only 19 World Series to evaluate, since 1994 was a strike washout. Say thank'ya!
A final caveat: I am a St. Louis Cardinals fan, and without apology. Any series that included the Cardinals got an extra three points in my (again, subjective!) ratings. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you skew your OWN ratings. Unless you're a Cubs fan, because then there would be no Series ratings to skew. Honestly, unless the Cardinals are involved, you won't find a more unbiased baseball fan, so I feel I'm mostly qualified to make this analysis.
The criteria and somewhat arbitrary scoring system:
Length of series: All things being equal, I want to see a long series, even if FOX doesn't. Points are weighted double for each game it progresses past a four-game sweep (zero points).
+2 for a five-game series
+4 for a six-game series
+8 for a seven-games series
Winning the series at home: All things being equal, I want to see a team celebrate a championship on its home field. It makes the conclusion infinitely more satisfying.
+3 for clinching a championship at home.
Being "Old-School": Okay, I'll admit. I'm what you might call a baseball snob--a "purist" in the old tongue. Any series that includes a team that existed--EVEN IN ANOTHER CITY, BY ANOTHER NAME--in the pre-expansion era gets bonus points.
+2 for pre-expansion participants PER TEAM.
Signature moments: This is where this list exits the realm of science and becomes purely subective. No fan is going to remember exactly the same moments from any given series. However, as a (mostly) unbiased, ever-watching baseball fan, I'm confident that if I can't remember a Series-"defining" moment, not many people can. What are defining moments? Pretty much any dramatic, noteworthy play, accomplishment or factor that the history books will note in, say, 25 years. Example: You remember Reggie's three-homer game in 1977 against the Dodgers; do you remember anything about the 1978 Series, also against the Dodgers? Or the 1979 Series between the O's and Pirates, for that matter? 'Nuff said.
+3 for every "Signature" moment as defined by this blog's master, Matt Lemmon
Without further ado, my best World Series' ever. (And, yes, this blog post's title gave away the 2007 Series' ranking.)
1991-Minnesota Twins over Atlanta Braves: 33 points
I didn't need math to tell you this one was the best I've seen. I was in the sixth grade, fixated on nothing but baseball (the girl I was "going out" with will attest to that). This series was my first proof that A.) A series could go seven games and B.) include a team other than Oakland. The result: A classic.
+8: Seven-game series (home team won every game)
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams (the Twins were the original Washington Senators, so I counted them. The '91 series would have won handily regardless)
+18: Six signature moments. Perhaps I'm being generous here, seeing as how I watched every OUT, which is something I can't say for every series, but here are the things I remember:
--Kirby Puckett's Game 6 catch to rob Ron Gant of a go-ahead home run-->
--Kirby Puckett's Game 6 walk-off home run (and Jack Buck's "And we'll see you.... tomorrow night! call).
--Jack Morris's 10 shutout innings in Game 7.
--Gene Larkin's walk-off Texas leaguer to win Game 7.
--Some unnamed Brave scoring on a sac fly to win game four or five in Atlanta (I just remember it being dramatic)
--Lonnie Smith being duped into a baserunning error by the Twins' second baseman, and thus not scoring the go-ahead run in Game Seven.
--Minnesota's Dan Gladden plowing over Atlanta catcher Gregg Olson (SP?) at the plate, creating that unforgettable image.
2001-Arizona Diamondbacks over New York Yankees: 25 points
Many would argue this was the best series ever, and if it weren't for the non-stop drama of 1991, I'd agree. Heightening this Series's import were the September 11 attacks, barely a month before this series, which pushed the final games into November, an unheard-of thing. When the D-backs won, it almost seemed they should have apologized for twisting the knife in the heart of a messed up city, but really, this series was it's own reward for the whole nation.
+8: Seven-game series (another where the home team won every game)
+2: One old-school team (NY)
+3: Won at home
+12: Signature moments. I'm admittedly giving this one a bit of an emotional boost because it came so quickly after 9/11, and included a team from New York. So sue me.
--George W. Bush (hssssst!) throwing out the first pitch of Game 3/post-9/11 hoopla
--Scott Brosius walk-off, Game 4
--Tino Martinez's walk-off, Game 5. I watched both of these home runs from the exact same spot on back-to-back nights--lying on my left side watching the tiny TV in my then-girlfriend's room (sorry mom, but it's true). It's the most overwhelming feeling of deja vu I've ever had.
--Luis Gonzalez's walk-off single to win Game 7.
2002-Anaheim Angels over San Francisco Giants: 19 points
This one surprised me, and not just because I spent the entirety of the series on my honeymoon (those nights sleeping over in 2001 paid off). Granted, it went seven games, and I gave a "signature moment" status to Dusty Baker's kid almost getting run over at the plate, but how can you not?
+8: Seven-game series
+2: One old-school team (SF)
+3: Won at home
+6: Signature moments
--Angels comeback in Game 5. Giants manager Dusty Baker had even given the damn game ball to his starter, and then the Halos come back to win it. I don't recall much about Games 6 and 7, except that I watched Game 7 from the terminal of LAX, waiting for a plane to Chicago (not 10 miles from the Angels' stadium, or so they say). But fairly dramatic, anyway.
--Aforementioned toddler-in-the-basebaths incident.
1996-New York Yankees over Atlanta Braves: 17 points
When the Yanks won this series, I was a bit nieve. After all, it had been 18 years since they'd won one: I hadn'tt even been (quite) conceived when they repeated in 1978. The Braves were the big bad bullies, trying to repeat... well, we all know what happened after that. Still this was a pretty remarkable series, the Yankees losing the first two games overwhelmingly (at home!) and then winning four straight, culminating in the best celebration to date...
+4: Six-game series
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams
+6: Signature moments
--Wade Boggs on the back of a NY police horse, high-fiving fans. Indeed, ALL of the Yankees high-fiving fans. The Boggs part seemed a bit incestuous, since I remembered him as a Red Sock (though it wasn't quite as incestuous as seeing him get his 3,000th hit as a Devil Ray).
--Andruw Jones hitting homers in his first two WS at-bats as a 19-year-old. I was impressed by it, what can I say?
1997-Florida Marlins over Cleveland Indians: 16 points
The lowest-ranked over all my seven-game series, this was the first time I'd watched a series and wondered, "What the hell is THAT team doing there?" But Florida shocked us all, as several teams have since.
+8: Seven-game series
+3: Won at home
+2: One old-school team (CLE)
+3: Signature moments
--Edgar Renteria's walk-off single to score Craig Counsell is all I really remember. Tony Fernandez booting a ball at second base immediately preceded that, but I'm going to lump them together.
2006-St. Louis Cardinals over Detroit Tigers: 15 points
Okay, okay, okay. This one likely only makes it this high because, you know, my Cardinals WON. But the fact that it went an extra game (and the drama from that game) plus the fact that two storied franchises were participating helped make it the highest-rated five- or four-game series on the list (and even beat one six-game series).
+2: Five-game series
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams
+6: Signature moments
--Did I mention the Cardinals WON?
--Game 2, Kenny Rogers and the dirty smudge on his hand. Quite the controversy, no? I wonder why he barely pitched in 2008?
1993-Toronto Blue Jays over Philadelphia Phillies: 15 points
The highest-ranked of the non-seven game series, this one is most notable for its final play, and the fact that the Jays were the first team to repeat since the '77-'78 Yankees. But it had its fair share of drama.
+4: Six-game series
+3: Won at home
+2: One old-school team (PHI)
+6: Signature moments
--Joe Carter's walk-off, Game 7 home run off of Mitch Williams. This really should get more points, but a moment's a moment. It's not two moments.
--Maybe this makes up for the lack of gravitas for Carter's bomb: Remember Game 4, when the teams combined for 29 runs, and the Jays prevailed 15-14. Holy crap. I remember watching that game and shaking my head the whole time.
1988-Los Angeles Dodgers over Oakland Atheltics: 12 points
I'm somewhat partial to this series, though the numbers don't bear me out. It's the first series I got jazzed about, watching the entire playoffs with my dad. It also coincided nicely with our first fall in Ozark after moving from Texas... it was sort of a new life for us all, though I was less acutely aware of the fact than my parents were. Anyway, Game 1 is all anyone really needs to remember about this series.
+2: Five-game series
+4: Two old-school teams
+6: Signature moments
--Duh. A limping Kirk Gibson's walk-off homer in Game 1 is perhaps the most famous World Series home run of our generation. Accentuating the drama, for me, is my hero Jack Buck's call: "I don't be-LIEVE what I just saw!" Wow.
--I also remember Jose Canseco's huge home run in Game 1 that bounced off the CBS camera. It was a ridiculous year for Canceco (and also might have been the signature year of the steriod era, save '98 McGwire and '01 Bonds), and that home cemented it.
1995-Atlanta Braves over Cleveland Indians: 11 points
Poor Atlanta. More playoff trips than any of these teams and their only win is only this high. That's because, other than the fact that they actually WON (at home, against another old-school team), it was a wholly unremarkable series. In fact, I couldn't remember a single significant moment. Maybe I had play practice or something.
+4: Six-game series
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams
2004-Boston Red Sox over St. Louis Cardinals: 10 points
For a sweep, this one was chock full of drama (it's the highest-rated four-game series, but only because of the teams involved). But not for Cardinals fans. For Cardinals fans, this series blew.
+4: Two old-school teams
+6: Signature moments
--First series I'd ever seen the Cardinals in
--Red Sox first series win in a bajillion years or something like that
2000-New York Yankees over New York Mets: 10 points
Subway Series! Though, forgive me, I doubt it lacked the panache of those old Brooklyn-New York matchups. The Yanks were in their prime here, though it probably should have been a bit closer than it was.
+2: Five-game series
+2: One old-school team (NYY)
+6: Signature moments
--It was a Subway Series. Good for the press.
--The whole "Roger Clemens-threw-a-broken-bat-at-Mike-Piazza thing, but not really." That was pretty good theater.
1992-Toronto Blue Jays over Atlanta Braves: 9 points
I must admit, when I was really young and chose teams based on the prettiness of their uniforms (you can make gay jokes, but the Jays' '80s unis were pretty damn attractive), the Jays were my team. So I was a bit happy when they made it to the Fall Classic for the first time in 1992. But, alas, other than a nationalistic faux pas before Game 1, I don't remember a damn thing about this series.
+4: Six-game series
+2: One old-school team (ATL)
+3: Signature moments
-Before Game 1 (or possibly Game 2) in Atlanta, whoever presented the Canadian colors had the flag UPSIDE DOWN. I mean, c'mon, it was the first time a Canadian team had ever made the Series. You can forgive a ROTC schmuck for not knowing what a right-side-up maple leaf looks like, right?
2003-Florida Marlins over New York Yankees: 9 points
I suppose a six-game series should get more points than this. Maybe it's a flaw in my rating system. But really, do YOU consider this a more memorable series than the Dodgers in '88? Or the Sox in '04? Didn't think so.
+4: Six-game series
+2: One old-school team (NYY)
+3: Signature moment
-Miggy Cabrera hit a go-ahead homer late in game four or five. I'm being REALLY generous here.
1989-Oakland Athletics over San Francisco Giants: 7 points
Poor A's. The dominant team of my early basebal-fandom, and the only reason they're this high is because of the San Andreas fault.
+4: Two old-school teams
+3: Signature moment
-The earthquake immediately before Game 3. Drama on live TV. Yowers.
1999-New York Yankees over Atlanta Braves: 7 points
Shi**y, shi**t series. Only here because the teams were historical and it was the NL's year for home-field advantage.
+3: Won at home
+4: Two old-school teams
2005-Chicago White Sox over Houston Astros: 5 points
I was too busy (and pissed at the 'Stros) to watch much of this one. It's a miracle it ranks this high.
+2: One old-school team (CHW)
+3: Signature moment
-Scott Podsednik's walk-off homer in Game 2, further crucifying Brad Lidge, who had been rendered almost impotent by Albert Pujols in Game 5 of the NLCS.
1990-Cincinnati Reds over Oakland Athletics: 4 points
Now we're just going through the motions. Name one thing about this series (Reds fans, pipe down) other than Eric Davis brusing his kidney.
+4: Two old-school teams
1998-New York Yankees over San Diego Padres: 2 points
The only thing I remember about this series is that I was a freshman in college, and I was drunk, trying to impress one of my older fraternity members with all my knowlegdge about the Padres (which, for a drunk 18-year-old, was quite a damn bit). Ugh.
+2: One old-school team (NYY)
2007-Boston Red Sox over Colorado Rockies: 2 points
This series hasn't been over for two HOURS and I can't tell you a single memorable moment. I guess the last two games were close... but so what? It seemed pretty foregone from the moment the Sox went up 6-0 in Game 1. Reminds me of 2004, except without the question of how the Sox could conceivably blow it.
+2: One old-school team (BOS)
Total NL teams I've seen in the Series: 12 of 16 (all but PIT, CHN, WSH/MTL, MIL)
Total AL teams I've seen in the Series: 9 of 14 (all but TB, BAL, KC, SEA, TEX)
Total series wins leaders:
NYY-4 ('96, '98,'99,'00)
TOR-2 ('92, '93)
FLA-2 ('97, '03)
BOS-2 ('04, '07)
LAD-1 ('88)
OAK-1 ('89)
CIN-1 ('90)
MIN-1 ('91)
ATL-1 ('95)
ARZ-1 ('01)
LAA-1 ('02)
CHW-1 ('05)
STL-1 ('06)
Teams I've seen play in the most series:
NYY-6 ('96, '98, '99, '00, '01, '03)
ATL-5 ('91, '92, '95, '96, '99)
OAK-3 ('88, '89, '90)
TOR-2 ('92, '93)
BOS-2 ('04, '07)
FLA-2 ('97, '03)
STL-2 ('04, '06)
SF-2 ('89, '02)
CLE-2 ('95, '97)
ARZ-1 ('01)
LAA-1 ('01)
CHW-1 ('05)
LAD-1 ('88)
CIN-1 ('90)
MIN-1 ('91)
PHI-1 ('93)
SD-1 ('98)
NYM-1 ('00)
HOU-1 ('05)
DET-1 ('06)
COL-1 ('07)
Thanks for bearing with me on my anal-retentive trip down memory lane. It was fun. Rip apart my ratings in the comments, if you wish, and here's hoping that next year's Series is up there on the list.
Peace.
ML
I'm Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now!)
Race photos are posted! (This isn't one of them, it's just one my sister-in-law took that I like).
I know none of you will want one, but I don't want to buy the whole lot, either. Here's a link to "Party Pics"-style snapshots taken of me on the marathon course. Most of them are from the finish line, a few from the 10-12 mile mark.
http://www.backprint.com/go
And, just to put a bow on this whole marathon thing, I thought I'd make a few more detailed observations, now that I can actually walk again.
1. If you're ever responsible for helping organize a marathon, convince the people in charge to switch up the flavors of Gatorade at the aid stations. Seriously. I will never again drink badly mixed red Gatorade. By the end of the race I was drinking water just to get the taste out of my mouth, even though I really needed electrolytes.
2. If possible, plan to take the first day after the race off work. I could barely walk around the office--if it hadn't been a deadline day I would have gone home. I could literally feel my calves knitting themselves back together.
3. Don't believe for a second that you CAN'T run a marathon. With the proper training, a slightly insane streak and a good deal of willpower, a half or full marathon is within almost anyone's reach. Team In Training is a good way to do it, really. They'll give you the training regimen, the weekend Powerade and bagels, and a good deal of positive reinforcement.
4. Choose places to run that please you aesthetically. Even at my most zapped moments, I found time to look around me and smile, whether it was running along the James River during a training run or through 18th and Vine, a mile and a half from the marathon's end. If you have to run with an iPod, take out the ear buds every now and then and listen to the birds and the sound of your own breathing. I'm not a Zen-iphile, but those moments were as close as I got.
5. Buy good shoes, and make sure they're big enough. I can't stress this too much. You can put 500 miles on a good pair of shoes. My Mizuno's weren't cheap, but I wouldn't have finished in my old shoes, plain and simple.
Gosh, I guess that's all for now. The main thing is finding people who support you, be it a spouse, friends, a running group (I can't explain how great Springfield's Ozark Mountain Ridge Runners are) or Team in Training. Don't get too hung up on running WITH a group of people, unless you need the motivation to actually show up on Saturday mornings. Most of my best runs were solo. It was two hours (sometimes more) on a weekend where the stresses of life and work couldn't touch me, which is a huge part of the reason this was such a healthy experience and, in the end, why I'll do it again.
If you dig a try at the St. Louis marathon in April, I'd love to have some running partners. Contact me at matthew.lemmon@gmail.com
Peace.
ML
Friday, October 26, 2007
Ohh, a meme!
Not a mime, not a me-me, not a memo. A meme. I guess it's sort of like those MySpace quizzes, but for bloggers, and if you get tagged on a meme, it means someone likes your blog. I dunno. Strikes me as being tantamount to a chain letter, but I'll play along this time.
My buddy Nathan, who writes the embarrassingly good The Drinking Bird, tagged A Running Commentary, which, now that the marathon is over, will hopefully be more commentary and less running--except for when, you know, I run.
Anyway, here's how memes work:
-You can leave them exactly as is.Then you answer your list of questions. Also part of the ceremony is listing the progression of blogs through which the meme has passed. I do that now.
-You can delete any one question.
-You can mutate either the genre, medium, or subgenre of any one question. For instance, you could change “The best time travel novel in SF/Fantasy is…” to “The best time travel novel in Westerns is…”, or “The best time travel movie in SF/Fantasy is…”, or “The best romance novel in SF/Fantasy is…”.
-You can add a completely new question of your choice to the end of the list, as long as it is still in the form “The best [subgenre] [medium] in [genre] is…”.
-You must have at least one question in your set, or you’ve gone extinct, and you must be able to answer it yourself, or you’re not viable.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Flying Trilobite and the Hellfire Club.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is A Blog Around the Clock.
My great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is archy.
My great-great-great-great-grandparent is Why Now?
My great-great-great-grandparent Rook's Rant.
My great-great-grandparent is Blue Girl, Red State.
My great-grandparent is Welcome to the Revolution.
My grandparent is Corner of the Sky.
My parent is The Drinking Bird
Now I answer questions. For the record, I decided to both change one question and add my own.
The best multi-volume series in SF/Fantasy is The Dark Tower, by Stephen King
The worst "spin-off" TV series in comedy is After M*A*S*H
The worst airport I've ever traveled through is Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport.
The best-looking uniform in pro sports is the Los Angeles Dodgers home uni.
There, I did it. I now tag:
Gregory Holman
In the Mailbox
The Skinny Guru
Hope you enjoyed it!
Peace!
ML
There, I did it. I now tag:
Gregory Holman
In the Mailbox
The Skinny Guru
Hope you enjoyed it!
Peace!
ML
Sunday, October 21, 2007
And I Ran...
... I ran so far away.I just ran, I ran all night and day.
I couldnt get away.
UPDATE: Photos! I'll post a couple here and link to the official marathon shots when they are posted online.
Well, sports fans, the race is over.
I'm still trying to put my impressions of the weekend in order. It was truly the experience of a lifetime. I can tell you with much pride that I did not walk (other than through the aid stations, where everyone walks) and I finished very strong, passing five or six people in the last half mile and sprinting through the finish line in 4 hours, 7 minutes and 17 seconds, a 9 minute and 29 seconds-per-mile pace. By my caculations, that means I was running about 6.36 miles per hour. Not spectacular, but definitely not a poor first showing. I am pleased. I finished 51st in my age group (24-29). You can see the complete, unofficial results of the marathon here.
But the statistics really are secondary to the fact that I finished without walking or pooping out, even though at about the 18-mile mark, I really wanted to do just that. The Kansas City Marathon course takes you on a tour of the best and worst the city has to offer:
--It begins at Crown Centre, amid the tall buildings downtown, in the pre-dawn twilight
--Takes you around the Liberty Memorial, through Westport and Country Club Plaza, all in the first seven miles
--You run through the ritzy neighborhoods south of the Plaza, on and around Ward Parkway (if you want to buy pricy real estate, K.C.'s your place... nearly every other mansion was for sale)
-- You also go through some rougher areas, around multiple parks
--The course also slingshots you around the 18th and Vine jazz district (there was an honest to god jazz group playing, though by the 24.5 mile mark I was way too tired to care)
--The course ends downtown again for a brilliant, .2-mile downhill finish. The finish line and after-party/crashfest are held at the old Union Station.
There were three major uphill portions, one at the two mile mark, just before Liberty Memorial. It was short, steep--no sweat. I like the hills more than the average runner, I suspect. My relatively short, strong legs make it easier to stay low. The second hill was between the 8- and10-mile marks, immediately after the Plaza (amid the aforementioned expensive homes). It was long, and slightly more difficult. It separated the men from the boys, as I passed a lot of people who took off too fast. The final hill was more than a mile long, pretty gradual... it would have been easier had it not been at the 20-22 mile mark. Here I actually caught my second wind, caught up to my pace group again... and was rewarded at the very top of the hill by my first glimpse of my wife since the 1-mile mark. Nichole had spent the previous three hours running around the city trying to find me, and braved one of the course's more... uh... Pitbull-filled neighborhoods to find me, just when I needed her most. My brother and sister in law, John and Courtney Schindele, surprised is by driving up to K.C. to cheer me on.
If the big hill at mile 20 was my second wind, where was my "wall" you ask? Miles 16-20. It was a long, flat, out-and-back (which means we basically ran two miles down a street, turned around and came back). No hills may sound nice, but continual, flat running can burn out a specific muscle set extremely quickly. I fell about a quarter mile behind my pace group during this stretch, there was little shade, my fingers were going numb (I was running a bit too tight in my shoulders). I slowed down and survived it and resisted the urge to walk, began kissing my dreams of breaking 4:10 good-bye, not to mention 4 hours.
The last mile, while not the hardest, definitely seemed like the longest. Our Team in Training coach, Richard Johnson (who just ran a 100-mile race last weekend and wasn't running in K.C.) jogged alongside me a bit of the way, pushing me to catch people in front of me--including my pace group--and break 4:10, which I did. No one passed me in the last two miles that I can remember.
The finish was all I hoped for. As you come to the chute (where the crowd narrows and gets crazy), there must be someone on a walkie talkie telling the announcer your number, because you can hear them calling your name over the loudspeaker. "Let's welcome Matt Lemmon home!" That was a nice feeling. Nichole, John and Courtney (plus my Team in Training cohorts) were there at the finish line. Nichole ran right over to me and kissed me--I would have bet she wouldn't have, I tend to get mouth goobers on long runs, and was nasty with sweat and salt. One of the workers tried to put a solar sheet --kind of like the reflective windshield shade-guards--around my shoulders and I reflexively threw it back at him; it was hotter than 70 degrees by this point, quite warm for a late-October marathon. Another volunteer unlaced my shoes and took the chip (which records your true starting and finishing times) off my shoe laces. Meanwhile I tried to not fall over. I filed through the queue and got my medal and a cool "Finsher" T-shirt.
And then it was over. Nichole forced me to drink Gatorade, water, and to eat a wheat roll from the recovery tent. I would have liked to have checked out the festival a bit more, but we had to get back to the Plaza to check out of our hotel and, to be honest, I wasn't feeling very good. I can live with the pain in my legs and knees, but the hell the run caused my stomach and excretory system over the next six hours was really tough. I don't know if it was the heat, dehydration or the fact that all I had in my gut was my runner's carbohydrate blocks, but I felt ill until we got home (thankfully Nichole drove). I only ate about two bites of a chicken breast at the Cheesecake Factory, where John and Courtney took us for a post-race celebration. But by the time I got home I was ready to wolf down some Arby's and have a couple of victory beers. By 9:15 I was in bed, where I slept like the dead.
Today my legs are super-stiff, but not quite as sore as they were. My only chafing injury was on my left ankle. It'll be interesting to see how my knee feels once all the swelling and lactic acid are out of it... it hurt most of the week and then for the first six miles yesterday. I suspect I'll be moving slowly around the office this week, but I doubt anyone will notice.
Too long, this post? Sorry. I told you I was still trying to put my thoughts in order. There were a lot of reasons for taking on this quest back in April: It had been a very tough year up to that point, and I wanted to do something that was just for me; I'm acutely aware of my family's health history, and I want to stay healthy; it was a chance to cross something off my life list. Now I can say "I've run a marathon," which, while hardly a rare accomoplishment--you should have seen how many people were running yesterday--it IS an accomplishment. Will I run more? I suspect so. I need to focus on my professional life and my MBA class that is starting this week, but I'm intrigued by the St. Louis race in April. I'm also considering being a mentor for a Team in Training group that's going to Anchorage, Alaska next June to run the Mayor's Midnight Marathon... it's on the summer solstice, when it's light all day. Could be quite the trip. But I'm going to delay any decision for a few weeks. I'm going to enjoy a few Saturdays of sleeping in for first time since June.
I'll sign off now. I'm waiting for Courtney to e-mail photos she took yesterday, and the marathon's official photos havent' been posted yet: I'll update when I get those. Thank you to all (both?!) of you who have kept up with this journey. A Running Commentary is not finished, far from it. I have a feeling this is only beginning.
Peace,
ML
I'm still trying to put my impressions of the weekend in order. It was truly the experience of a lifetime. I can tell you with much pride that I did not walk (other than through the aid stations, where everyone walks) and I finished very strong, passing five or six people in the last half mile and sprinting through the finish line in 4 hours, 7 minutes and 17 seconds, a 9 minute and 29 seconds-per-mile pace. By my caculations, that means I was running about 6.36 miles per hour. Not spectacular, but definitely not a poor first showing. I am pleased. I finished 51st in my age group (24-29). You can see the complete, unofficial results of the marathon here.
But the statistics really are secondary to the fact that I finished without walking or pooping out, even though at about the 18-mile mark, I really wanted to do just that. The Kansas City Marathon course takes you on a tour of the best and worst the city has to offer:--It begins at Crown Centre, amid the tall buildings downtown, in the pre-dawn twilight
--Takes you around the Liberty Memorial, through Westport and Country Club Plaza, all in the first seven miles
--You run through the ritzy neighborhoods south of the Plaza, on and around Ward Parkway (if you want to buy pricy real estate, K.C.'s your place... nearly every other mansion was for sale)
-- You also go through some rougher areas, around multiple parks
--The course also slingshots you around the 18th and Vine jazz district (there was an honest to god jazz group playing, though by the 24.5 mile mark I was way too tired to care)
--The course ends downtown again for a brilliant, .2-mile downhill finish. The finish line and after-party/crashfest are held at the old Union Station.
There were three major uphill portions, one at the two mile mark, just before Liberty Memorial. It was short, steep--no sweat. I like the hills more than the average runner, I suspect. My relatively short, strong legs make it easier to stay low. The second hill was between the 8- and10-mile marks, immediately after the Plaza (amid the aforementioned expensive homes). It was long, and slightly more difficult. It separated the men from the boys, as I passed a lot of people who took off too fast. The final hill was more than a mile long, pretty gradual... it would have been easier had it not been at the 20-22 mile mark. Here I actually caught my second wind, caught up to my pace group again... and was rewarded at the very top of the hill by my first glimpse of my wife since the 1-mile mark. Nichole had spent the previous three hours running around the city trying to find me, and braved one of the course's more... uh... Pitbull-filled neighborhoods to find me, just when I needed her most. My brother and sister in law, John and Courtney Schindele, surprised is by driving up to K.C. to cheer me on.
If the big hill at mile 20 was my second wind, where was my "wall" you ask? Miles 16-20. It was a long, flat, out-and-back (which means we basically ran two miles down a street, turned around and came back). No hills may sound nice, but continual, flat running can burn out a specific muscle set extremely quickly. I fell about a quarter mile behind my pace group during this stretch, there was little shade, my fingers were going numb (I was running a bit too tight in my shoulders). I slowed down and survived it and resisted the urge to walk, began kissing my dreams of breaking 4:10 good-bye, not to mention 4 hours.
The last mile, while not the hardest, definitely seemed like the longest. Our Team in Training coach, Richard Johnson (who just ran a 100-mile race last weekend and wasn't running in K.C.) jogged alongside me a bit of the way, pushing me to catch people in front of me--including my pace group--and break 4:10, which I did. No one passed me in the last two miles that I can remember.
The finish was all I hoped for. As you come to the chute (where the crowd narrows and gets crazy), there must be someone on a walkie talkie telling the announcer your number, because you can hear them calling your name over the loudspeaker. "Let's welcome Matt Lemmon home!" That was a nice feeling. Nichole, John and Courtney (plus my Team in Training cohorts) were there at the finish line. Nichole ran right over to me and kissed me--I would have bet she wouldn't have, I tend to get mouth goobers on long runs, and was nasty with sweat and salt. One of the workers tried to put a solar sheet --kind of like the reflective windshield shade-guards--around my shoulders and I reflexively threw it back at him; it was hotter than 70 degrees by this point, quite warm for a late-October marathon. Another volunteer unlaced my shoes and took the chip (which records your true starting and finishing times) off my shoe laces. Meanwhile I tried to not fall over. I filed through the queue and got my medal and a cool "Finsher" T-shirt.
And then it was over. Nichole forced me to drink Gatorade, water, and to eat a wheat roll from the recovery tent. I would have liked to have checked out the festival a bit more, but we had to get back to the Plaza to check out of our hotel and, to be honest, I wasn't feeling very good. I can live with the pain in my legs and knees, but the hell the run caused my stomach and excretory system over the next six hours was really tough. I don't know if it was the heat, dehydration or the fact that all I had in my gut was my runner's carbohydrate blocks, but I felt ill until we got home (thankfully Nichole drove). I only ate about two bites of a chicken breast at the Cheesecake Factory, where John and Courtney took us for a post-race celebration. But by the time I got home I was ready to wolf down some Arby's and have a couple of victory beers. By 9:15 I was in bed, where I slept like the dead.
Today my legs are super-stiff, but not quite as sore as they were. My only chafing injury was on my left ankle. It'll be interesting to see how my knee feels once all the swelling and lactic acid are out of it... it hurt most of the week and then for the first six miles yesterday. I suspect I'll be moving slowly around the office this week, but I doubt anyone will notice.
Too long, this post? Sorry. I told you I was still trying to put my thoughts in order. There were a lot of reasons for taking on this quest back in April: It had been a very tough year up to that point, and I wanted to do something that was just for me; I'm acutely aware of my family's health history, and I want to stay healthy; it was a chance to cross something off my life list. Now I can say "I've run a marathon," which, while hardly a rare accomoplishment--you should have seen how many people were running yesterday--it IS an accomplishment. Will I run more? I suspect so. I need to focus on my professional life and my MBA class that is starting this week, but I'm intrigued by the St. Louis race in April. I'm also considering being a mentor for a Team in Training group that's going to Anchorage, Alaska next June to run the Mayor's Midnight Marathon... it's on the summer solstice, when it's light all day. Could be quite the trip. But I'm going to delay any decision for a few weeks. I'm going to enjoy a few Saturdays of sleeping in for first time since June.
I'll sign off now. I'm waiting for Courtney to e-mail photos she took yesterday, and the marathon's official photos havent' been posted yet: I'll update when I get those. Thank you to all (both?!) of you who have kept up with this journey. A Running Commentary is not finished, far from it. I have a feeling this is only beginning.
Peace,
ML
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Nearing the starting line
...Or the finish line, however you like to look at it.
Nichole and I leave for Kansas City soon, the race is less than 48 hours away. My knee is still pretty tweaked... I don't expect this to be an easy run, though the weather looks superb. Looking at the KC Marathon's elevation chart, it looks like my two biggest hills are right at the beginning and between miles 21 and 22... the exact point where I reach uncharted distances. Good times.
As for the knee, I've been going without any ibuprofen all week to sort of get used to the strained feeling. I plan to take a couple before the race, and hopefully I'll be pleasantly surprised with how it responds. I'll probably let Nichole drive up to KC... gas pedals are hell on ACLs.
This will probably be my final post before the race: I'll be sure to have pictures and links to my sorry ass finishing time on Saturday night or Sunday morning. Wish me luck! And thank you to all of you who have supported me through this, both emotionally and financially--particularly my wife, Nichole, and my parents, Curtis and Susan.
Peace.
ML
Nichole and I leave for Kansas City soon, the race is less than 48 hours away. My knee is still pretty tweaked... I don't expect this to be an easy run, though the weather looks superb. Looking at the KC Marathon's elevation chart, it looks like my two biggest hills are right at the beginning and between miles 21 and 22... the exact point where I reach uncharted distances. Good times.
As for the knee, I've been going without any ibuprofen all week to sort of get used to the strained feeling. I plan to take a couple before the race, and hopefully I'll be pleasantly surprised with how it responds. I'll probably let Nichole drive up to KC... gas pedals are hell on ACLs.
This will probably be my final post before the race: I'll be sure to have pictures and links to my sorry ass finishing time on Saturday night or Sunday morning. Wish me luck! And thank you to all of you who have supported me through this, both emotionally and financially--particularly my wife, Nichole, and my parents, Curtis and Susan.
Peace.
ML
Saturday, October 13, 2007
What's in a name?
So I just participated in my first Sunshine Run, the annual 5K/10K run and walk sponsored by local mega-hospital, St. John's. It's funny, because the race doesn't even touch Sunshine Street, the event's namesake, but begins and ends at Hammons Field near downtown. I do hope next week's Kansas City Marathon is actually in Kansas City.
Not a lot to say about the race. It's a good time... lots of families and too-serious middle-aged men, as is Springfield's style. I ran the 6.2 miles in about 48 and a half minutes (I wasn't watching clock when I finished, I had to ask the old dude who blew by me 100 yards out). I ran the last three miles very hard... early in the race I got passed by a little kid (Tiny Tim) and a lumbering dude (Poofy Hair Boy), and made it my goal to pass them by the end. I did, just beating Poofy-Hair Boy at the end. I believe I might have overdone it, in light of my 26.2 miles next week. I still really have no idea how to pace myself, but now have the competetive juices flowing. Whatev.
A few other notes:
--Running and drinking water simulatneously is hard if it's not from a sport bottle.
--The nuns handing out water at the 2-mile marker was a nice touch
--Having the final 90 feet of the race go down the third-base line of Hammons Field was cool for a baseball geek like me
I'm gonna call it a post. Life outside the running is mostly okay, some bad, some good. On Friday Nichole and I will have been married five years, so that's awesome.
Oh yeah! I met my donation goal. YAY! Thank you so much to all of you who donated. I believe the list on my home page is updated. If not, do let me know and I'll put you up there.
Peace.
ML
Not a lot to say about the race. It's a good time... lots of families and too-serious middle-aged men, as is Springfield's style. I ran the 6.2 miles in about 48 and a half minutes (I wasn't watching clock when I finished, I had to ask the old dude who blew by me 100 yards out). I ran the last three miles very hard... early in the race I got passed by a little kid (Tiny Tim) and a lumbering dude (Poofy Hair Boy), and made it my goal to pass them by the end. I did, just beating Poofy-Hair Boy at the end. I believe I might have overdone it, in light of my 26.2 miles next week. I still really have no idea how to pace myself, but now have the competetive juices flowing. Whatev.
A few other notes:
--Running and drinking water simulatneously is hard if it's not from a sport bottle.
--The nuns handing out water at the 2-mile marker was a nice touch
--Having the final 90 feet of the race go down the third-base line of Hammons Field was cool for a baseball geek like me
I'm gonna call it a post. Life outside the running is mostly okay, some bad, some good. On Friday Nichole and I will have been married five years, so that's awesome.
Oh yeah! I met my donation goal. YAY! Thank you so much to all of you who donated. I believe the list on my home page is updated. If not, do let me know and I'll put you up there.
Peace.
ML
Friday, October 5, 2007
Friday night's alright for runnin' (and bloggin')
Running on Friday evening is an interesting thing. Since the weather started getting cooler (it is not today, but overall) I've shifted my weekday runs from early morning hours to after work. I've found I'm more limber, less prone to pain, and even though it's generally hotter and I lose one of my few free hours, the afternoon exercise sort of sheds the stress of the day. Besides, I heart sleeping in.
This Friday, I really needed it, and it turned out my schedule was clean. Today was one of those days at work that feels like a pastry pump... you know, the bag-with-a-spigot thingies bakers use to parcel out dough and icing? No matter how much I crapped out, there was a lot more to squeeze, which is nice for a cake, bad for an editor. Anyway, I hit the Greenways at about 6:10 p.m., an hour that features an interesting collection of young couples with kids, seniors, and young women who I'm guessing either don't have or don't want dates (you GO girls!). And me. To tell you the truth, it was the most satisfying five-miler I've put in during this whole ordeal, and I think it's precicely because I was NOT downtown with the rest of the twenty-somethings. That's a terrible thing for the editor of a hip and trendy magazine to write in an open forum, but for one night at least, it's the God's honest truth.
Which brings me back to the marathon. It's two weeks from tomorrow. Egad! Because of my mid-September trip to Vegas (see last post), I'm a week behind my fellow Team In Tranining-ites (Team in Trainers? They don't wear diapers.), so my huge big solo run is this weekend, followed by a two-week taper/rest period. Think of me on Sunday morning, when I'm shooting for 20 miles. By my rationale, if I can do 20, I can do 26 on race day. Do the math with me--a marathon is 100 percent preparation, 6 percent adrenaline and one percent stupidity. There's your 26 miles. That doesn't make any sense, but then I always sucked at math.
Now that I'm showered and home, I'm sipping on a Michelob Ultra (yes, I'm THAT GUY for now) and watching Yankees-Indians on TBS. I must admit, as a Cardinals fan, I'm not sure quite how to respond to an October without Redbirds baseball. At the same time, it's agreeing with me (especialy in this time of work madness, running madness and family anxiety) to not be a slave to the television two out of every three nights. I mean, I can watch "Kid Nation" online; baseball doesn't doesn't carry the same gravitas unless it's live. I'm personally looking forward to a Colorado-Boston finale... Won't that be a "Rock-'em, Sock-em" series! Those of you who get it are free to use it.
A few quick updates:
--I'm now on Facebook. See my page here, if you have a Facebook. Yeah, yeah, I know. But I got fed up with MySpace. Facebook is just as vapid but considerably more entertaining, and I've yet to get a friend request from a nude woman.
--I'm now a bi-weekly TV star. My company (Whitaker Publishing: A Life-Improvement Company) has gotten hot-and-heavy with one of the local TV stations. I go on every other Thursday at 6:45 a.m. to talk about the new issue of GO Magazine. It's kind of a trip. I've always said "I have a face made for radio and a voice made for magazines, so here I am," but TV suits me fine, I suppose. I'll let you be the judge... you know, if you like getting up at 6:45. (Note: The link above is not to my segment, but a weekly segment sponsored by 417, the WP flagship for which I serve as web editor).
--If you're a consevation nut, or just a fan of good writing, please check out my blogroll, specifically the Bloggin' Swicks, my best buddy Nathan (The Drinking Bird) and his dad, Greg (Conservation Conversations) are rippin' up the blogosphere with insightful, necessary conversations (unlike my parenthetical-laden self-serving drivel). Of particular delight is Nathan's candidate-by-candidate breakdown of each presidential candidate according to how bird- (e.g., conservationally) friendly they are. It's a Newt... er, hoot.
That is all. Enjoy your Friday night, however you choose to spend it.
Peace.
ML
This Friday, I really needed it, and it turned out my schedule was clean. Today was one of those days at work that feels like a pastry pump... you know, the bag-with-a-spigot thingies bakers use to parcel out dough and icing? No matter how much I crapped out, there was a lot more to squeeze, which is nice for a cake, bad for an editor. Anyway, I hit the Greenways at about 6:10 p.m., an hour that features an interesting collection of young couples with kids, seniors, and young women who I'm guessing either don't have or don't want dates (you GO girls!). And me. To tell you the truth, it was the most satisfying five-miler I've put in during this whole ordeal, and I think it's precicely because I was NOT downtown with the rest of the twenty-somethings. That's a terrible thing for the editor of a hip and trendy magazine to write in an open forum, but for one night at least, it's the God's honest truth.
Which brings me back to the marathon. It's two weeks from tomorrow. Egad! Because of my mid-September trip to Vegas (see last post), I'm a week behind my fellow Team In Tranining-ites (Team in Trainers? They don't wear diapers.), so my huge big solo run is this weekend, followed by a two-week taper/rest period. Think of me on Sunday morning, when I'm shooting for 20 miles. By my rationale, if I can do 20, I can do 26 on race day. Do the math with me--a marathon is 100 percent preparation, 6 percent adrenaline and one percent stupidity. There's your 26 miles. That doesn't make any sense, but then I always sucked at math.
Now that I'm showered and home, I'm sipping on a Michelob Ultra (yes, I'm THAT GUY for now) and watching Yankees-Indians on TBS. I must admit, as a Cardinals fan, I'm not sure quite how to respond to an October without Redbirds baseball. At the same time, it's agreeing with me (especialy in this time of work madness, running madness and family anxiety) to not be a slave to the television two out of every three nights. I mean, I can watch "Kid Nation" online; baseball doesn't doesn't carry the same gravitas unless it's live. I'm personally looking forward to a Colorado-Boston finale... Won't that be a "Rock-'em, Sock-em" series! Those of you who get it are free to use it.
A few quick updates:
--I'm now on Facebook. See my page here, if you have a Facebook. Yeah, yeah, I know. But I got fed up with MySpace. Facebook is just as vapid but considerably more entertaining, and I've yet to get a friend request from a nude woman.
--I'm now a bi-weekly TV star. My company (Whitaker Publishing: A Life-Improvement Company) has gotten hot-and-heavy with one of the local TV stations. I go on every other Thursday at 6:45 a.m. to talk about the new issue of GO Magazine. It's kind of a trip. I've always said "I have a face made for radio and a voice made for magazines, so here I am," but TV suits me fine, I suppose. I'll let you be the judge... you know, if you like getting up at 6:45. (Note: The link above is not to my segment, but a weekly segment sponsored by 417, the WP flagship for which I serve as web editor).
--If you're a consevation nut, or just a fan of good writing, please check out my blogroll, specifically the Bloggin' Swicks, my best buddy Nathan (The Drinking Bird) and his dad, Greg (Conservation Conversations) are rippin' up the blogosphere with insightful, necessary conversations (unlike my parenthetical-laden self-serving drivel). Of particular delight is Nathan's candidate-by-candidate breakdown of each presidential candidate according to how bird- (e.g., conservationally) friendly they are. It's a Newt... er, hoot.
That is all. Enjoy your Friday night, however you choose to spend it.
Peace.
ML
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
