My Favorite Quebecer

I have recently (since moving back to Canada) discovered an affinity for mixed martial arts. Not doing it, so much (and you... you know who you are... can stop laughing, now...), but watching it. I used to not be a fan... pure kickboxing or K1 just seemed to move so much quicker, have so much more action.

Well, it turns out that there is a bit of a learning curve in appreciating some aspects of the sport, and for me, that was the wrestling/grappling side. Now that I understand the submissions, I can appreciate what's going on in that part of the match, and it's made a huge difference.

I like: great creme brulee, the Flemish primitives, and UFC. And yes, they can all go together just fine.

It's caused another major shift in my world view... I have a new favorite Quebecer.

It used to be Ivan, a colleague in Switzerland. It was so, so fun working on projects with him: he allowed me to fully indulge my Albertan-ness by refusing to call himself a Canadian (he was Quebecois), and freely throwing separatist idealogy and language laws into casual conversation to get something going. Of course, we were both living in Geneva, so our national/cultural ties could easily have fallen under question, but we both had a ton of fun playing around with it.

But Ivan has slipped to second place, and Georges St Pierre (GSP) has taken over the top spot. The man is articulate, professional, has great fashion sense, and man... can he fight! Fast, powerful, aggressive... so much fun to watch. I don't know if he's anywhere near as fun to talk to as Ivan, but for now, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

I Like Him

I saw a one-legged bike courier riding in front of my place. He caught my eye as he was going by and gave me a nod and a look that said very distinctly, "yeah, you better believe it".

Now THERE is a guy who's up for a challenge. Very nice.

Read My Lips

You can't spell it "Favre" and pronounce it "Farve". It's just wrong.

And In Lane Six

Can you imagine having worked your whole life to get to the Olympics, and you end up being in the qualification heat against Michael Phelps?

Would that ever suck.

The Olympics

Ah, it's great. The French are showing Judo; the Germans, women's air rifle.

One thing that will not be difficult to leave is the European concept of what constitutes a sport that should be shown on TV.

[EDIT] The French seem to have discovered the error of their ways. They've switched over to dressage - horses with fancy hair, trotting in a circle. Now if that's not a sport that's truly in the Olympic spirit, I don't know what would be.

The Problem Is

... as far as I can tell, that "tres" is one of the worst words in French. It's phlegmy... sounds kind of like someone coughing up something nasty. And the unfortunate part is that it's also one of the most common.

And, as I watch the Euro Cup final, I realize that they are incapable of only saying it once. Nothing is "tres" whatever; it's always "tres, tres" whatever. Double the phlegm: gotta love that. And, while in English we have a whole range of words used to denote emphasis (very, extremely, notably, markedly, really, unbelievably, undoubtedly...), the French either only have one, or they don't let sportscasters use the other ones on-air. In fact, I've heard "tres" five times while writing the previous sentence.

The other problem is that Spain is winning. When the passed through the semi-finals, they drove around town (or, at least, my block) honking for 4 hours. Tonight... no one sleeps.

[EDIT] - Well, it's over. There were 11 second between when the game ended and when I heard the first horn. That's got to take some serious planning.

Hockey Vs Soccer

Reasons that hockey is better than "football":

1. Better snacks - you can get Wendy's in the Saddledome. No such luck at a football match. Who wants another sausage?
2. Football is sooooo..... slooooooowwwwww..... in comparison. It's not as bad as baseball, but it's really, really slow. Anyone remember the Simpsons episode? They were (as usual) right.
3. Diving. Or, you could say, Italians.
4. Long, greasy hair. What is it with that hair? Maybe hockey players have it, but at least we don't have to look at it all game long. Can one of you P&G people please get these boys a bottle of Pert Plus or something?
   
5. "Highlights". Since the Euro Cup started, I've been watching "highlights" of... well, shots on goal. Sure, most of them are kind of slow, and go straight to the goal-keeper. But they warrant a spot on the highlight film, and that's a pretty big red flag. Once again, confer with baseball: "he hit it and.... somebody caught it. Let's see that again in super slo-mo, Rob".
6. Fighting, or a complete lack thereof. See also: Diving.

Yet... I can't stop watching.


Rats.

Honking in Three Langauges

Finally, the Swiss have a reason to honk. They beat Portugal tonight, and even though they're still eliminated from the tournament, it's a good way to finish it off.

Way to go, boys - play hard to the end.

Football Makes Me Sad

Portugal won.

They are very, very noisy.

Switzerland lost.

The one team I was hoping would be able to make some noise.


Go, Sweden. Rah, rah, rah.

Rubbish

Well, it's been an interesting week for flying.

I was in Munich for a couple of days last week before heading to Dublin for holidays. There are three flights from Munich to Geneva each evening... at 5 PM, 7 PM, and 9 PM. I booked myself on the 9 to be sure I could put in a full day at the office, first. But it looks like things haven't changed much since I worked there regularly a few years ago. At that point, I would usually book the 7 PM, but the 5 would be delayed enough that I could get on it by changing my ticket at the airport. The 7 would then be very late, and the 9... well, they were lucky if they actually made it.

So it occurred to me as I looked at my 7 AM flight to go to Dublin that, perhaps, booking myself on the 9 PM back to Geneva the night before was not a great move. And it was late... very late. The Geneva airport closes at midnight, and I've had a flight actually drop us off in Lyon, France, and then we had to take buses back because we were too late. Well, we got in at about 12:15, but they kept it open for us.

Going to Dublin (via London) was a worry because my flights were with two different companies, so if Geneva/London was delayed, the London/Dublin people really, really wouldn't care. Or compensate me. Or make sure I get there later. So I was pretty happy when that went okay. And getting from Dublin back to London was smooth and easy, too.

The problem came when Science Nathan and I were sitting down for a burger before our London/Geneva flight. We had checked in, but decided to eat before security. As Nathan was waiting for his food, I sat down and was a bit surprised at the sound coming from the arcade across the concourse... it sounded suspiciously like a fire bell. Curious that they would allow that in a public place like this, I thought - it could be a problem if people heard it and actually thought it was an alarm.

Well, turns out it was an alarm. Before long, we could hear the classic British announcement... in a calm, polite tone: "Please be aware that a fire alarm has been sounded in this area, and you are advised to evacuate immediately".

But there didn't seem to be any fire... and it was upstairs (and we were downstairs - just by the escalators so we could hear it), and there was, after a while, a security guy there who didn't look very concerned. So we waited, and watched.

And waited, and waited, and waited.

The check-in/security areas were evacuated and closed off for some time. And we ended up getting home late... once again, after the airport actually closed. But we did make it, and I'm pretty sure there was no fire. The highlight, though, was the guy sitting just behind us while we waited, talking to a couple of young American tourists.

"Well, it's simply rubbish," he said, "there's no reason why they shouldn't be able to identify the location of the alarm, to determine the nature of the threat, and then to make an appropriate response and announcement in 15 minutes flat". And he carried on in a similar, knowing kind of vein for a good ten minutes or so.

He was, of course, a meteorologist.

I hesitate to even put this in, because it was so, so good, and I am failing so miserably at capturing it. But he was just so... English. It was wonderful. I mean, he was utterly ridiculous, but in a really transporting kind of way. It made the whole delay worthwhile.

But now it's good to be at home... for the first time in a few weeks, I will have a while week here, and I'm really looking forward to it.


Oh, and in other news - I just looked out my window because it sounded like there was a fight on the street. But it's actually my neighbours, who, I gather, are watching soccer. The Euro cup is on again.

Hooray.

Go, Finland.

Tonight Is The Night

Canada is playing the Cherry Blossoms as we speak. It's a defensive (read: boring) match: an hour in, and tied at 5 each. I know that we don't usually do so well in things that don't involve wearing skates, but come on, boys! Let's make Trudeau proud!

The Cherry Blossoms

They're playing Wales. And they're only down by 4.

[EDIT] OOOH! They're winning! They had a full-field run to score a try. Go, cherry blossoms! Blossom with all your cherry might!

[EDIT] Okay, it didn't last long. But they might come back.

Rugby

The Japanese team have, to date, have 0 wins in 16 World Cup appearances.

The name of their team is The Cherry Blossoms.

So, All Blacks vs. Cherry Blossoms. Really, who are you going to have your money on? It may be time to rethink that whole "flowers of the rugby world" thing.

Doping On The Tour De France

I don't believe it. Next, they're going to tell us that baseball players are doping, too.

Alinghi, Part II

Well, we did it. We won the America's cup back to back, and I was almost there to see it... in fact, most of our Geneva office cleared out for a few minutes while we headed over to the Jardin Anglais across the street to catch the last bit of the race. It may be a bit much to say the tension was palpable, but there were quite a few people out to cheer on their crew despite the rain. I have the distinct feeling that this is a sport where are little more knowledge would go a long ways in my appreciation of it, but it is fun to watch, and it was cool to share the win with everyone gathered in the park.

It was a little bit odd that the high point (in terms of energy) was when then they started throwing Alinghi hats out into the crowd after the race was over. But that's nit-picking, I suppose. And, in true Swiss style, the place started to clear out very shortly after the win, with everyone back to work or to waxing their sidewalks or whatever it was they were doing before. I love this place.

Some Pictures

It's raining now. These make it a little better.

Alinghi

I got home in time to catch a few minutes of the America's Cup race this evening... it doesn't look good for our heroes - Alinghi is down 2-1. Of course, I have no idea how many legs there are to the race... maybe it's like snooker where they have a best of 31 or something, so the danger is not quite as dark as I may fear.

I think I may have tuned in at a bad time. I've watched it before and found it pretty interesting... of course, that was with English (rather than Italian) commentary. But while I was watching today, I didn't even know they were racing. They guys in the boat were just sitting there. They weren't even sitting hanging over the side. They were just watching the water.

It made me wonder... how would you feel if you were in this world championship kind of thing, had been working for a year to qualify, and, because of whatever wind conditions or the layout of the course or something, you ended up mostly just sitting on the side of the boat trying to figure out if you were ahead or the other guys were? I mean, I'm a team-spirit kind of guy - I really am. But I can't help thinking I'd feel a little disappointed. It's like sitting on the bench while your team wins the Stanley Cup. Sure, you still get to carry around the trophy and probably have a nice bonus coming, but you would feel a little out of place being, say, the only one not sweating at all.

In any case, Hop Suisse! Bring it home again, Alinghi boys. You show them: there's nothing that a whole lot of money can't do.

Rugby

Okay, I won't even pretend to know the rules.

I never know why they stop. I haven't been able to find any kind of link between what is happening on the field and when the ref stops the play.

I have even less of an idea about how they get started again. Sometimes it results in a scrum, sometimes in a line-in (side-in? when they throw it in from the side), and sometimes somebody kicks it or just picks it up and starts running.

But it's a pretty amazing sport, I think. It's fast, it's aggressive, and the stops usually aren't too long. And when they do stop, there is often a bit of shoving going on, which is nice while I'm in hockey withdrawal.

So I went to see my friend David (who plays for Geneva) play in the Swiss semi-finals this weekend, and had a great time. They're playing next Saturday against Zurich in the finals, and you should probably come.

I took some pictures, too. You can find more here.

Sports And Genetics And God

*Spoiler*

This isn't really about science as much as it sounds from the title. If you want science, you should probably keep on looking.

*End spoiler*

I'm watching snooker.

And here's the thing - I know who the guys are who are in it - when they show the last names, I know the first names. I can picture some of them. I know that the World Championship is called "The Crucible" because it's held in the Crucible Theater (or maybe the other way around - I'm not obsessed). And I'm sad that Stephen Hendry is out. He's my favorite snooker-er, perhaps because he kind of looks like a wolf when he's leaning over his cue to make a shot... VERY cool eyes. And, let's face it: when you're deciding which snooker-er to root for, how much like a wolf his eyes look is just as good a criterion as anything else.

Probably more of you than would like to are aware of how I feel about what is called a "sport" and what's included in the Olympic program (I'm building momentum - slowly - for a place on the IOC), and there is no way snooker is a sport. But it's really hard. The tables are huge, the pockets are small... I remember playing snooker with Brock a couple times on a normally-sized pool table with somewhat more generous pockets, and it was still tough. I can't do it. So I kind of like watching these guys who are absolute masters at it... they make it look so easy, and I wouldn't even know the difference if I hadn't tried it myself.

So that makes me think about things I've tried that have turned out to be far more difficult than I would have expected:

• Throwing pottery (though it would have helped if they would have told me the wheel went the other way for left-handed people on the first day)
• Golf (also not a sport)
• Math (what's up with that, anyway?!?)
• Keeping my daughter in the same country I'm in
• Speaking (include reading, writing, and understanding) French
• Finding decent prints of Flemish Primitives (yeah, it's a Wikipedia day)
• Or, on a related note, painting

Conversely, there are some things that have been much easier than it seems like they should have been. Not that I've mastered these, but I probably do better at them than I should, given my training and knowledge:

• Drumming (really - you just count to 4 over and over and try not to get faster)
• Public speaking (a lot like normal speaking, but hopefully more people are listening)
• Photography (though, as a friend mentioned a couple weeks ago when seeing the lens I was using, "oh, that's why your pictures look so good!")
• Writing (in English, thanks)
  

But here's the really odd part - prayer, for me, has been in both of these categories at one time or another. Much more often in the first one, unfortunately, but not always. And as I've been reading about it, and thinking about it, and studying it, and doing it to be able to speak coherently about it at YAGS, I've been mystified by how it can be, at the same time, the simplest and most mystical thing I do most days. As easy as breathing. As difficult as requiring God to die to make it possible. Sometimes involuntary, sometimes demanding an act of will that seems to go against everything inside me.

I'm tempted to concoct some thin analogy relating prayer to the snooker match that's on, but I need to go. Maguire is just finishing up a century, and I need to watch.

I've Decided

I had tried leaving it open for a few years, but I think I have come to the point of reaching a firm decision. I don't think that rock climbing is going to be for me. I'm not opposed to other people doing it, and I don't find the thought particularly scary, but I'm just not interested. It's been weighing on me, and I'm glad to have reached a little internal resolution about it.

Other things I still want to do: skydive, swim with sharks (but the cheating way, in a cage), explore Hong Kong, get custom-made shoes, see Run DMC, learn to surf

Other things that are just not looking like they're going to make the list: base jumping, bungee jumping, owning an apple product, getting a piercing

Still undecided on: skiing. I've been pretty happy not doing it, but will likely pick it up again in order to let my little chick learn