Not Not Untitled Field Trip: Heckling Manny at Nationals Park

Sometimes you gotta be careful what you wish for. I learned that when I said that I wanted no part of Jason Bay and that the Red Sox were waving a white flag by trading Manny. I also learned that again last night when I went, with a few friends, to go heckle Manny Ramirez and Dodgers when they came to DC to face the Nationals.

It was a grand plan. A buncha beers, front row seats in left field, and a list of Spanish swears were what I was counting on, to try to get into Manny Ramirez's head. I knew realistically that penetrating Manny's mind would be a difficult task without pegging him with a javelin from the stands (a measure I wasn't willing to take for the sake of Sox pride). What I had forgotten though was Manny's propensity for playing drastically shallow in left field, so shallow that our left field box seats were not close enough to reach him with our voices.

And we tried. We tried when he came back to the wall to watch homeruns go over his head, we tried when he hustled over to snag a line drive in the gap, we tried when he was playing catch between innings. Thanks to some Miller Lite confidence, we shouted and shouted and I dont think he heard much, if anything. Instead of letting him know we didn't miss him and that he was a ducha perezosa (lazy douche) or a mierda arrogante (arrogant shit) we were forced to heckle Dodgers' bullpen members like Jason Johnson and Joe Beimel who probably haven't spoken more than four words to Manny either.

What Manny did do was homer in our faces, and make a couple nice plays near us. The sole satisfaction (besides seeing Christian Guzman hit for the cycle) was that the Dodgers got shelled by the lowly Nats and are on the outside looking in at the playoffs. It would be nicer though if I thought that Manny was actually disappointed.

My Kind of Town...

There are too many reasons that getting on a plane and flying home sucks. Usually its the knowledge that vacation is over and workdays loom in the near future. Or the barefooted, belt-less rite of passage through the metal detector before the opening of the packed carrying and the tossing of the folded clothes. All of those took a toll on me today on the way home from Chicago, along with a weird nostalgia I don't often get.

Quarter life crises are usually reserved for birthdays, friends' engagements, or massive failures, but I just couldn't help but think bigger on my flight from Chicago to DC today. Here's the thing, Chicago is awesome. I mean like really a great city. So in the window seat of row 16 before takeoff at O'Hare this afternoon, my thought process went something like this: Chicago is great... Chicago has to be one of the best cities in the US... Chicago is better than DC... Why should I live in DC if it isn't as good as Chicago?

And there it was, the question that pained me until it my pensiveness was interrupted by the dumb-ass in front of me reclining his seat as far back as the cartilage in my knees would allow, leaving me with two numb knees and one mind-numbing question.

What is keeping me in Washington? Of my six closest college friends, all six have left the District and its vicinity. The last two left this summer; maybe its a time for changing scenes. We are young and still have fairly loose ties to our cities. For me its more sentimental than physical baggage in Washington. What do I have here really? A place near a Whole Foods, a pu-pu platter of friends (in the sense that its a good mix, not that they smell), and a reputation for drinking on rooftops before enjoying jumbo slice... (which is an embarrasment compared to Chicago's pizzas)

The best thing about Washington is they city itself. DC's practically unlimited public spaces and opportunities embedded within it may be only dwarfed by those of Chicago (as a disclaimer I was just in Chicago for five days with my parents so I didn't spend much money, we had great weather, and was unrestricted by a daily work schedule). However the nightlife, the city's accessibility, the general Midwestern eccentricities are hard to imagine ever being anything but lovable. Wrigley Field, the bi-weekly Navy Pier fireworks, and Lake Michigan are things other cities cannot come close to offering (and I didn't even mind watching TV an hour earlier than normal).

In terms of girls, I have found finding a suitable girl in DC as easy as finding a Chinese gymnast's birth certificate; I'm sure both exist, it just takes a lot of work to unearth a good one. Let's just say of the last couple serious threats at bachelorhood from within DC's borders, I have spent more man-hours trying to find ways to avoid running into them after the fact, than I ever spent appreciating them. From my limited, weekend-long sample size of Chicago's female species, I posit that they seem to be worth relocating for. And from the guy who wishes he brought you the notion that girls in Red Sox caps are cute, wait til you see girls in Cubs jerseys... (that link wasn't fair...)

However there is a but, and its a but so big that Sir Mix-a-Lot wants in on it. In terms of my visits to Chicago, I've been twice, been smitten twice, and never dealt with the thing people say is the worst aspect of Chicago... survey says: WINTER (the overwhelming number one answer). I don't think I could really deal with the cold.

I hated living in Boston from after Halloween until the after the first month of Red Sox games. I even complain about DC's PG-13 winters; basically I am ill-equipped to deal with anything that requires more than a NorthFace and cords. I am a winter pussy and am comfortable knowing that it will likely keep me south of the Mason-Dixon line forever.

Climate isn't the only thing though keeping my roots in the National's Capital. Truth is that I love my job and currently have the strongest loyalty to it. I couldn't imagine leaving my job. In some ways it feels like my DC family, in others my DC social network, but mostly my DC love.

I ended up sleeping off my Midwestern-biased grogginess on the flight and resigned myself to the fact that I will likely vote for the next couple presidential elections from the District. And its not a bad thing. I'm starting my seventh straight year in DC and feeling more in control of my destiny than ever, which might be more of a convincing statement if I could just get that Frank Sinatra song out of my head.

Olympic FAQs

Not sure if you heard but Beijing is currently hosting the Summer Olympics. It gives us a chance to see other countries, to follow events that Versus won't even televise, and to pretend we know about things that baffle us.

I have spent a lot of time in the last couple of days watching the Olympics and brushing up on everything from archery to badminton (rules as explained by Marcy Stoda) to trampoline and feel confident in already being able to call myself an expert. As self-proclaimed expert, I will now answer some lingering questions that are bothering many viewers, after a few days of fierce international competition and awkward international pageantry.


Question 1: I've been watching a lot of handball and am wondering why isn't more prominent in the United States?

Answer: There is no good answer, maybe its because we can't all agree to quit on hockey. But if you've watched handball so far I think you'd all agree that we could trade the NHL and the WNBA for a sweet handball league. It plays like basketball combined with soccer and packs lots of scoring with the propensity for horrific collisions and exquisite dodgeball-esque facials.

Handball is the perfect spawn of athleticism, entertainment, and danger. The US needs to start a grass-roots movement to get more neighborhood handball leagues and hope that it catches on enough to expose enough stars of the game to create our own national league.


Question 2: Can you explain what is going on with the synchronized diving?

Yes, in fact I can. Synchronized diving looks for two aspect in each paired dive: synchronization and precision of the dive. There are two sets of judges and each set is focused on only one of the above criteria. And not only do the divers have to be totally in sync but also must enter the water at a perfectly vertical position which can be measured by how small of a splash the divers create.

What is really cool about the diving is nothing, but what is noteworthy is the camera that runs vertically along the diving platform that follows the divers from takeoff to landing in real time. It gives you a sense of how quick these guys must complete somersaults and twists and an appreciation for why this is an actual event (my first thought was why not have a complimentary event where the goal would be both synchronization and maximum splash). Also interesting is the play by play announcer. I don't know what her name is but as soon as the pair are underwater, she knows exactly where the faults were in the attempt, after seeing it only once (it wasn't tape delay when I was watching). A question I cannot answer though is what she does in the three year, 11 month offseason.


(OFF TOPIC QUESTION: How soon is too soon to start sending out texts about possible no-hitters? Jon Danks is through 4 innings; Can I start sending out the warnings?)


Question 3: I feel sometimes like Michael Phelps is kinda a douche. Do I HAVE to root for him anyway?

This may be a contradiction to most people's feelings about Phelps, but this actually hits home for me. Others may understand better if they exchange Phelps with common hate-targets such as Mike Krzyzewski or Serena Williams. While I would like to see him win all eight golds as much as the next American, there is a hint of douchebaggery from the Baltimore native (not quite as strong as the lime flavor in Tostitos with a hint of lime). First of all, there was the DUI incident a few years ago, after his last Olympics triumph (if I were an American Olympic Chairman I would institute a rule that any athlete who got a DUI, domestic violence, or other felony, would not be allowed to participate in the next Olympics. That means you too Carmelo. These guys are representing our country; lets try to pick some people we can be proud of and who can win some medals).
Phelps' second fault to me is undefinable... its sorta intangible, which may delegitimize it. I guess the best way to explain it is a combination of his air of superiority, his hogging of the swimming events, and his smug iPod pre-race look. Its not that I don't appreciate his swagger and skill set, I just don't get the sense that he is not a guy I would want to be friends with.

Anyway last night's 4x100m freestyle relay (even though Phelps wasn't even winning after his first leg) was the greatest Olympic event I have witnessed since the Dream Team. I will be both watching and on-my-feet cheering for Phelps for the rest of the games, at which point I will flush him out of my mind for 4 more years (like Hillary Clinton).

Plus it yielded this priceless headline.


Question 4: Who is the United States' biggest rival?

Hard to say for sure, there may be a few nominees for best Olympic villain. The easy answer would be China, our toughest competition in the medal count. However they are the home nation and unless you really care about the whole Free Tibet thing, I don't know what they've done to us.

Russia is always scumming around and after the not so timely invasion of Georgia, they have a certain hate-ability. Plus there was the big Benedict Arnold debate over Becky Hammond.

Meanwhile, Afghanistan had this little nugget that may raise an eyebrow and Iran not really winning Nobel Peace prizes either.

Belgium though, is my dark horse in this race. Since Belgium-based inBev bought out Anheuser-Busch, I think we've all felt somewhat threatened by the tiny, delicious country. I would take great pride in beating them down and re-enforcing our alcoholic superiority


Question 5: How great is that Marvin Gaye national anthem commercial for Nike?

It good and if you haven't seen it, here is the long version. Apparently coincides with the story Coach K played the Gaye anthem in one of the first Team USA practices this summer, to inspire his squad. HOWEVER, there is an even better Nike Olympics commercial set to The Killer's tune All These Things That I Have Done. No offense to Marvin Gaye (or Francis Scott Key), but here is that commercial, which is far more inspirational and beautifully edited.

Also worth noting are the series of Visa commercials with Morgan Freeman narration of past Olympic glory. Whoever his hospital roommate was, was a very lucky sick person.

(OFF TOPIC NOTE- Youkilis singles in the 7th to break up the no-no one inning after my mass text went out. YOU'RE WELCOME)

Question 6: Those little gymnast girls are creepy, right?

I'm glad you asked! Yes, the female gymnasts from China, Russia, and other nations, have given

me the heebie-jeebies. For those scoring at home, that makes them slightly creepier than the Miley Cyrus hour of MTV Live recorded on my DVR but not as creepy as those pageant girls at the end of Little Miss Sunshine. Its on par with the twins in The Shining. For me they are an automatic channel change. These girls are eerily small, and their tiny little feet, pony tails, and incredibly strong grip are a 

combination that easily equates nightmare fuel. Let's move on quick.

Question 7: Have there been any letdowns so far in the games?

I can think of three notable letdowns thus far. First was the revelation that during the Opening Ceremonies (which were absolutely fantastic) the footprint fireworks that trekked down the Beijing Olympic Strip were actually CGI effects. Bummer, because it the powerful image was one that really stuck out as beautifully symbolic and yet astoundingly badass.

Second on the list would be Andrea Kremer's post-swim race interviews. She takes gold in the interview butchering medley. She's done it in four ways, at least: Constant interrupting, losing the interview subject, asking the same dumb question consecutively in two different ways, and standing in front of the aqua-Goddess Natalie Coughlin. 

And the third big letdown was the organization of the soccer tournament. Due to a clash with FIFA, the Olympic Soccer rosters are comprised of athletes under 23-years old. That means instead of Cristiano Ronaldo, Luca Toni, Fernando Torres, and the other footballers we have become familiar with through Champions League, EuroCup, and the '06 World Cup, we are rooting for strangers. Not really the whole "best in the world" thing I thought the Olympics prided themselves on...