Fall TV: Part Deux

It's been a rough few days here in the good old US of A. The TV Sluts have been particularly demoralized by the latest political happenings, so I figured this was as good a time as any to get back to blogging and talk about something frivolous. Namely, the new Fall television shows.

When we last chatted, I let you know that The Good Place was definitely worth watching. It's doing fairly well in the ratings and is a critical hit, so it seems likely it will stick around.

One of my other favorite new series this Fall is Pitch. The series follows the first female baseball player to make it to Major League Baseball. Ginny Baker, as a pitcher with the San Diego Padres, has to prove herself to the MLB leadership, the public, and most crucially, her teammates. This goes just about as well as you would expect.

I'm not a huge baseball fan--I've been to some Nationals games and follow their season--but you don't have to be a sports lover to enjoy this show. It has a healthy dose of Girl Power and (I never thought I would say this), Mark-Paul Gosselaar is pretty fantastic on the series. I almost didn't recognize him because of his beard, but he's just as charismatic here as he was all those years ago on Saved By The Bell.

Pitch hasn't been stellar in the ratings, but it appears likely it will return for a second season.

Look at that glorious beard. AC Slater eat your heart out.

The third show I can recommend this Fall is Notorious. According to the PR monkeys at ABC, Notorious "centers on the symbiotic relationship between defense attorney Jake Gregorian (Daniel Sunjata) and powerhouse TV producer Julia George (Piper Perabo), as they attempt to control the media, the justice system and ultimately each other."

Basically, it's a typical ABC drama with lots of "shocking" twists similar to Scandal and How to Get Away with Murder.  Its' entertaining and frivolous, but doesn't exactly depict the reality of producing a news show or working as a criminal lawyer. Still, it's fun.

Familiar faces on this one include Piper Perabo (who was the naive songwriter main character in Coyote Ugly) and several Joss Whedon alums including J. August Richards (Gunn on Angel). I think of it as a good "background show." It's something you can have on in the background while you do something else, like write a blog post, but it's not necessary to give it all your focus.

Alas, there is a shocking lack of dancing on bars so far in Notorious, but hey, the show is young.

Notorious has been struggling in the ratings, but so has all of ABC's Thursday night line-up. In late October the first season order was cut from 13 episodes to 10 which isn't a good sign, but who knows what will happen. I'll keep you all updated.

Both Pitch and Notorious air Thursday nights at 9PM on FOX and ABC, respectively. I hope you have a DVR. Also, episodes are available online and On Demand. So you have no excuse.

Peyton Manning’s Sloppy Seconds Super Bowl

Okay, people. It’s time again to talk about football. Like a dependable locust, arriving once every 12 months to devour all the snack food in your local grocery store, the Super Bowl arrived as predicted this past Sunday. And it was messy. (And before you tune out completely, don’t panic non-sports fans. I’m going to talk about the halftime show as well.)

Football! Now even 50-ier!

Before I get to the mess that actually unfolded on the field, here’s the obligatory background: This years’ teams were the Denver Broncos, led by quarterback and commercial star Peyton Manning, against the Carolina Panthers, led by one-man self-hype squad Cam Newton. If these names sound familiar to you, non-sports fan, it’s because Cam Newton got a lot of press for being the first person ever to win a Heisman trophy, a national championship, and be a first round draft pick in one year. Peyton Manning you know because there’s not a product on TV he hasn’t considering filming a promo for. Manning is also the oldest son of former NFL quarterback Archie Manning and the older brother of current New York Giants QB Eli Manning. The Mannings are sort of like the Lannisters of the NFL.

Google Image searching "Lannisters and Mannings" actually returns a surprising number of results

Look, I could write a doctoral thesis on the oedipal dynamics of the Manning family. Suffice it to say the comparison to the Game of Thrones dynasty is important because at age 39, Peyton Manning is an old man in pro football terms and one seen as desperate to claim his place in the family glory. When he stepped on the field for this Super Bowl, he was officially the oldest QB ever to play in the game. He’s also been somewhat eclipsed by his younger brother who has won two Super Bowl rings. When Peyton played in the Super Bowl two years ago, it was seen as his last chance to win a second ring for himself so that he could retire on top. When the Broncos lost spectacularly that year to the upstart Seattle Seahawks, Peyton was on shaky ground. This game was his for real last last chance. And, like two years ago, he would be facing an upstart team fronted by a young, fresh face that had no qualms about strutting wherever he walked.

So what drama did we actually see in the game? Well, put it this way: I’ve had to consult a thesaurus when writing this to make sure I didn’t overuse the words “sloppy” and “messy.” And not to bury the lede anymore than I already have, but Denver eventually emerged as the winner. And though the score makes that win look decisive, let me show you exactly how not the case that was.

The thing is, Super Bowl 50 was a record breaker. Not in a good way. Denver made only 11 first downs and gained less than 200 total yards in the entire game. That’s the lowest for any Super Bowl winner ever. Over at the Carolina side, Cam Newton only had 18 of his 44 passes reach their targets, about a 44% success rate. Newton was also sacked (tackled to the ground by the opposing team before he could throw the ball) seven times, which ties him for first place in the number of sacks in the Super Bowl. Between the two teams there were 18 penalties for a total of 153 lost yards. Carolina had four turnovers (unintentionally losing the ball to the other team) and Denver had two. Both sides literally were tripping over themselves trying to run the ball. There was so much fumbling, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was actually a basketball game.

One of the more dignified examples of utterly shitting the bed, professionally speaking.

It was also a relatively low-scoring game. Denver won 24-10, which by pro football standards is a very modest end result. It also doesn’t really reflect the reality of how those scores were won. Denver’s first touchdown came quickly at the start of the game, but only because Carolina somehow fumbled their own ball and Denver recovered it in the Carolina end zone. Which is sort of like when Wile E. Coyote would try to kill the Road Runner with a bazooka only to have the bazooka blow up in his own face. You can’t exactly say that the Road Runner won that exchange.

Carolina itself didn’t even score until about a third of the way through the second quarter. Denver came into the game with the highest ranked defense in the country, but Carolina didn’t exactly make them use it much. This is doubly surprising given that Carolina had a remarkable season, coming almost out of nowhere. In fact, Carolina was favored over Denver going into the game, a prediction that probably made for some fun times in Vegas on Sunday night.  

It’s tempting to see an analogy here: the upstart, anti-establishment team comes roaring out of relative obscurity to capture the media’s attention, which initially ridicules said team before taking more note of them, predicting their demise, becomes dismayed when team continues to rise, and finally all but preparing the coronation before the older, establishment team delivers the crushing blow. Not sure where else I could have seen that story.

I'll tell you what, it would be YUGE.

I’ve just been reminded by Maggie Cats that I am obligated at this point to talk about Beyoncé and, specifically, that I must use the word “fierce.”

Look, I’m not convinced that Beyoncé is an actual person. I think she’s a next-generation hologram precision-designed in a corporate lab somewhere in Heidelberg to give the world something to care about. I’m also pretty sure that Beyoncé Corporate has formed a contractual agreement with the Internet that the Internet must at all times speak of Beyoncé^TM in only exaggerated, breathless terms. The Pepsi commercial halftime show kind of underscores that. In the parlance of the Internet, she “slayed.” Which, I guess? I mean, when your competition is Bruno Mars wearing a hefty bag and that one guy who Gwyneth Paltrow contentiously uncoupled from it’s not that hard to land, is it? I do think Beyoncé Corporate was smart to schedule their product’s performance literally hours after dropping another stealth song and video as a lead in to her World Tour/Adele Assassination Strategy. Well done, team! Take a long lunch today for coming up with that creative synergy.

For me, the halftime show is more notable for what happened afterwards. Which is to say, horrible people on the Internet continued to be horrible. Did you realize that all those psychedelic colors and outfits were actually secret number generators that were beaming stealth messages DIRECTLY INTO YOUR BRAIN and that Nobama knows about it and it’s all part of his plot to replace your guns with gay people? IT’S TRUE! Behold:

Your voters, America.

So, yeah. That was pretty much the halftime show.

As I say every year when I write this post, the Super Bowl is not about excellent sportsmanship or athletic prowess. It is about showmanship. The Super Bowl is event television where the only unforgivable sin is to be boring. In that sense, Super Bowl 50 lived up. Disheveled as it may have been, it was entertaining to watch the players messing all over themselves in the same way that it is entertaining to watch Japanese game shows, albeit with less crushing pain in this case. It also should give lots of support to struggling junior high school football players out there. “You see?” their parents will say to them, “It doesn’t matter if you fumbled into your own end zone. It was good enough for Cam Newton!”

Always next year?

Enough Phantom. There Is Other Broadway.

Hello, chickens. What have you to say for yourselves? I've been mainlining Elementary and Gracepoint for my Murder Thursdays, but most of my attention has been concentrated on watching bunch of figure skating. A. Bunch. Of. Figure. Skating. The return of figure skating season, of course, means the return of commentary by Johnny Weir and Tara Lipinski. 

Hello, darlings. Did you miss me?

What can I say about the overall theme of the Grand Prix of Figure Skating? Well, if you're super patriotic and you're looking to watch Americans succeed, perhaps this isn't the sport for you. 

Oh. I still have this on my hard drive. Do not even think for a moment I would delete this.

I freely admit that I am a bit hard on Ashley. I think she is overrated and I find her competent but not terribly interesting. I much prefer Gracie Gold (who has withdrawn from the Grand Prix final due to an injury), and skaters with less brouhaha surrounding them, like Mirai Nagasu and Samantha Cesario. Anyway. Enough about me. To the skaters.

Ladies' Singles

As was the case in Sochi earlier this year, the story is Russia, Russia, Russia. Four of the six ladies' finalists are Russian. They are ranked as follows: 

1. Elena Radionova

2. Elizaveta Tuktamysheva 

3. Anna Pogorilaya

4. Gracie Gold (W)

5. Yulia Lipnitskaya

6. Crashley Ashley Wagner

7. Rika Hongo (JPN)

Anyway, Ashley has more to contend with than the Russian ladies if she wants to find her way up onto that podium. Her teammate Gracie Gold has withdrawn, but Gracie actually got a gold medal in a Grand Prix event this season, and while Ashley qualified, she has not won any event. Gold's replacement, Rika Hongo, is someone Ashley needs to be concerned about. Forget beating the Russians -- the Japanese ladies' field is DEEP. DEEP LIKE A DEEP DISH PIZZA PIE ON A TUESDAY.  Rika is an amazing skater in the vein of the awesome Mao Asada and IMHO she has more of a chance to contend with the Russian girls than Ashley does. She is technically and artistically pretty sound, and she beat the Russian girls at home at the Rostelecom Cup just a few weeks ago.  No, she is not the complete package yet, but look out Pyonchang in 2018. Rika is my dark horse pick to win the Grand Prix final.

Yes, mama.

Elena Radionova has a gold medal from the 2014 Skate America and 2014 Trophee Eric Bompard. 

Elizaveta Tuktamysheva won the bronze medal at the 2013 European Championships and won gold at the 2014 Nebelhorn Trophy.  

Anna Pogorilaya placed first at Skate Canada and Cup of China. 

Rika Hongo placed first at the 2014 Rostelecom Cup and received the bronze medal at the 2014 Finlandia Trophy. She replaces Gracie Gold, who won a gold medal at the NHK Trophy, and bronze medals at Skate Canada and Nebelhorn Trophy. 

Yulia Lipnitskaya placed second at the 2014 Rostelecom Cup and also won silver at the Cup of China. The darling of the Sochi Games, Miss Thing has found herself some real competition in Elena Radionova. It's a good thing she's found something to light a fire under her, because homegirl has mad talent, but she has been falling all over the place since the team competition in Sochi. Get your head in the game, Yulia! 

Ashley Wagner is the silver medalist from the 2014 Skate Canada and the bronze medalist for the 2014 Trophee Eric Bompard. 

My overall comment on the Russian ladies is thus: They are good. They are very, very good. My favorite of the Russian girls, Alena Leonova, did not qualify, but you should totes check out her Charlie Chaplin routine from Skate Canada. Supes cute. I sort of find Elena Radionova and Yulia Lipnitskaya to be very similar in terms of technique and choreography. Elena thus far has been a bit more consistent, and Yulia kind of falls apart under the pressure. Anna Pogorilaya I feel is a bit overrated, because I don't feel her programs have been entirely clean, but I also realize that the judging doesn't severely penalize a lot of minor mistakes. That said, she is technically advanced. The only time her program actually grabbed me was earlier this year at Skate Canada, and at Cup of China she was artistically and technically meh. So we will see.

There was a lot of good skating during the Grand Prix series, and a lot of talented skaters who didn't qualify for the final. 

May I have a moment before I move on to the men?

ENOUGH WITH PHANTOM. ENOUGH ALREADY. ENOUGH PHANTOM MEDLEYS. ENOUGH PHANTOM ROUTINES. ENOUGH. 

Quoth the Tara, "There is other Broadway." See what you've done? You've upset Tara! 

There, there, Tar-Tar. Johnny will comfort you. 

If you aren't aware, the Powers That Be in the figure skating community have changed the rules and they are allowing all the skaters to perform to music with lyrics. I'm not entirely sold on this concept yet, but I think the idea would get more steam if people stopped doing fucking Phantom. I mean it. Everyone did Phantom, and the first year they let you use lyrics, what do you do? PHANTOM WITH BLOODY LYRICS. WHY???? When there is Chicago! Like. I mean. Why. Just a little more variety here, people. That's all I'm sayin'. 

Okay. The dudes.

Men's Singles

The leaders after the Grand Prix events 

1. Maxim Kovtun (RUS)
2. Javier Fernandez (SPN)
3. Tatsuki Machida (JPN)
4. Takahito Mura (JPN)
5. Sergei Voronov (RUS)
6. Yuzuru Hanryu (JPN)

As you can see, the Japanese men are pretty much dominating the field in terms of numbers in the Grand Prix final. Gold medalist Yuzuru Hanryu has been struggling since the Cup of China, after a hilarious unfortunate collision with a Chinese skater.

I'm looking for Javier Fernandez or Maxim Kovtun to win this event. Have I told you how much I love Maxim Kovtun? I effing love Maxim Kovtun. Look how adorable he is. Look at his little Spiderman jammies.

Javier Fernandez is awesome and does quad after quad. But he does not have Spiderman jammies. Thus, I pick Maxim. Well, really, I think it could go to any of these guys. I really love Javier and Maxim, but the Japanese men are very technically sound. I'm not a huge fan of the Japanese men. For me, they are kind of like Elena Radionova and Yulia Lipnitksaya -- very similar technique, music, and costumes. I don't see a whole lot of uniqueness among any of them, and I'd like some of them to start standing out artistically. However, I do like Daisuke Murakami, who trains with Gracie Gold and Frank Carroll, but skates for Japan. To me, he stands out a little more with a bit of his own style. Unfortunately, he did not qualify for the final, in spite of winning the gold medal at the NHK Trophy, so I'm hoping Maxim or Javi take gold. 

But no more Phantom. Seriously, you guys.

No. Just...no. (And no, that is not Charlie White.)

Pairs

1. Ksenia Stolbova/Fedor Klimov (RUS)
2. Meagan Duhamel/Eric Radford (CAN)
3. Yuko Kavaguti/Alexander Smirnov (RUS)
4. Peng Cheng/Zhang Hao (CHN)
5. Sui Wenjing/Han Cong (CHN)
6. Yu Xiaoyu/Jin Yang (CHN)

The highest-ranking American pair, Haven Denney and Brandon Frazier, came in eighth overall, and did not earn a spot in the final. They are the second alternate for the final.  

For me, the pairs event is pretty up in the air. Stolbova and Klimov are the top-ranked pair, but they have Canadians Duhamel and Radford hot on their heels. However, I've watched all of these pairs this season and I feel the top two are pretty evenly matched. I mean, we're not looking at the difference between two Rob Lowes here

so the pairs event is anyone's game. If Stolbova and Klimov skate clean, they will win. But then again, if Duhamel and Radford skate clean, they will win. Or, it's entirely possible one of the lower ranked teams will come out swinging and end up with the gold. If I had to bet money, I'd put it on the Russians coming in first and the Canadians second, but anything can happen in competition.

Ice Dance

Okay, may I start with how utterly and completely blown away I was by the French pair of Papadakis and Cizeron?

I just can't even with these two. I just can't. He is so handsome, and she looks so much like Liberty Leading the People, and they are just ethereal. They came out of nowhere this season to win both the Cup of China and the Trophee Eric Bompard. 

If they skate the way they've skated this season, you will understand what I mean. Their free dance is so gorgeous, if it does not move you to tears, then you are dead inside. DEAD I TELL YOU.

However, it's not like this is a runaway. Like the Olympics, the only area where the Americans are excelling is in the ice dance. Madison Chock and Evan Bates of the United States are ranked first, with the Shibutani siblings also qualifying for the final. The rankings going into the final are as follows:

1. Madison Chock/Evan Bates (USA)
2. Kaitlyn Weaver/Andrew Poje (CAN)
3. Gabrielle Papadakis/Guillaume Cizeron (FRA)
4. Maia Shibutani/Alex Shibutani (USA)
5. Piper Gilles/Paul Poirier (CAN)
6. Elena Ilinykh/Ruslan Zhiganshin (RUS)

And featuring Johnny Weir as Sparkly Loki! 

Like the Olympics, the only event where the Americans have a chance to win anything is the ice dance. Madison Chock and Evan Bates are the top-ranked ice dance pair, and they have every reason to expect a win in the Grand Prix. 

The Grand Prix of Figure Skating starts Friday at 8 p.m. on Universal Sports and at various times on NBC. It runs the whole weekend. I recommend Universal Sports for more complete, if tape delayed, coverage. I've been promised that Johnny and Tara will commentate. 

I leave you with pictures of Johnny Weir.

The Bride of Tarastein.

I give you evil alien Star Trek queen realness.

A star is born! 

Fosse, Fosse, Fosse!

Ehrmagerhd Sperts Merbers!

Okay, peaches. Now that the U.S. Men's Soccer Team HAVE (PLURAL) lost to Belgium and we, as a nation, HERETOFORE BOYCOTT WAFFLES AS WELL AS POMMES FRITÉS*, let's settle into some Netflix while we await the World Cup final with some sperts merbers.  Who needs carbs? We need to look sick in our soccer gear. 

The Price of Gold

You guys, you guys, you guys. Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding. You know you love this shit. We were treated to a recap of the Nancy and Tonya saga during this past Olympics in Sochi. NBC produced an original docu that aired, weirdly enough, before the ladies' singles figure skating finals. For the NBC production, Mary Carillo was able to gain access to Harding and Kerrigan for sit-down interviews. The Price of Gold was produced as part of ESPN's 30 for 30 series, and features mostly interviews with Harding, Harding's childhood friends, and former coaches. Kerrigan only makes an appearance in figure skating and news footage. 

 The subject of many a late-night joke, the Nancy and Tonya story was one of those media events that took on a life of its own, garnering hours of media coverage and pages of newsprint devotion. The event and the spectacle that followed has not yet been forgotten by the public consciousness. It elevated the popularity of the sport, and apparently Tonya's side of the story has been turned into a musical. (The part of my brain that loves trashy media is super stoked about the latter.)

The story was simple enough. Tonya Harding was the 1991 Skate America champion, U.S. figure skating champion and a second-place finisher at Worlds. Not too bad for a girl who grew up in a poverty-stricken and dysfunctional family and who famously took skating lessons at the local mall because she couldn't afford to study privately. She was blue-eyshadowed and a little trashy, and definitely didn't fit the mold of the Disney princess-esque pseudo pageant queen that some figure skating fans have come to expect and demand. Contrast that to Nancy Kerrigan, who grew up in a working-class but loving and stable family and who fit the stereotype of the beautiful and balletic skating champion. In spite of Tonya's seeming disadvantages, it was she who won the U.S. National title in 1991, with Kerrigan coming in second.

In spite of their differences, both ladies seemed poised to take home a medal at the 1994 Winter Olympics in Lillehammer, Norway. Then things all kind of went to shite. On the morning of January 6, 1994, just weeks before the start of the Olympics, Nancy Kerrigan was clubbed in the knee as she came out of practice at Cobo Arena in Detroit. At first, the attack seemed to have come out of the proverbial ether, but suspicion soon fell on Tonya Harding after it was revealed that Kerrigan's assailant, Shawn Eckhart, was associated with Harding's ex-husband, Jeff Gillooly. Harding was accused of masterminding the plot against Kerrigan. The motive? Jealousy. Money. The usual suspects.

We skate to the death!

You see, although Harding had the titles, Kerrigan had all the corporate sponsorships, and thus, all the money. (Kerrigan was famously gifted with Olympic skating outfits by fashion designer Vera Wang.) Harding was struggling financially (she became famous for her "homemade" costumes) and felt unsupported financially by her skating federation, and was angry that no corporations had approached her, whereas Kerrigan had lined up sponsors ranging from Campbell's Soup to Evian Water. Remember, Harding was the champion, not Kerrigan.

The theory is that Harding felt Kerrigan was her biggest competition for the gold medal. The federation, and the corporate sponsors, clearly adored Kerrigan.  Nothing was ever proven against Harding, but the suspicion was that Harding thought if she could knock Kerrigan out of contention for the gold medal in Lillehammer, then she would almost certainly win. The incentive for winning the gold was motivation enough. The gold medal comes with not only all the media exposure, but a cash prize, and is generally accompanied by the aforementioned corporate sponsorships. 

Harding's feelings, according to the 30 for 30 interview, are that there is a lot of corruption in the figure skating world, and that the Olympic champion is "pre-selected" from among a list of acceptable candidates. Harding's current feeling is that her skating federation thought she was fine as the U.S. champion, but she wasn't acceptable as a World or Olympic champion, regardless of what she'd done at the 1994 Winter Games. Her homemade costumes, her athletic style, and her mouthy attitude were not marketable. (Every time I picture figure skating authorities, I picture Barry Fife from Strictly Ballroom. See below.)

To date, Tonya Harding retains her innocence. She was stripped of one of her U.S. National Champion titles and due to her famous "skate lace malfunction," did not medal at the 1994 Olympics. Nancy Kerrigan did not win gold that year, either. That honor went to Ukrainian upstart, Oksana Baiul. 

Nancy Kerrigan retired from amateur figure skating competition after Lillehammer.

Harding was banned from figure skating for life and never skated professionally again.

The sad part of it all was that Harding was a very talented, if troubled, skater. She went down in history as the first woman to land the difficult triple axel in competition.

Why, why, why?

Schooled: The Price of College Sports

You want to get schooled? 

Gather round children and hear the tale of the NCAA. This documentary is about a sports scandal, but it makes the Harding/Kerrigan fiasco look like amateur hour. I am a big supporter of college sports and of my alma mater (WE ARE SPATANSSS!!!), so this documentary made me several kinds of angrysad.

Schooled is an expose of the shocking level of greed and corruption that has taken over the NCAA. It focuses on college players, "student athletes," who are being taken for a ride at the hands of a supposedly beneficent system.

Let's pretend you are a high school athlete who has been recruited by a major football university to play gridiron football for that school, and in the process, you will be earning the school major buck$$$ as well as potentially helping the team to a national title. If all goes well and you are not injured in play, you can then be recruited by the pros. In exchange, these 17 and 18-year-olds receive tuition, room and board, and a college education that, in other circumstances, they may not be able to attain. 

Sounds like a great deal, right? Well, it's more complicated than that. As recent debates have indicated, college players are agitating for more compensation, unionization, and pay-to-play. Why have they got such a problem? The deal the athletes make with the NCAA is not as great as it seems on the surface. 

College sports in the United States is a multi-billion-dollar industry. Colleges and universities make serious bank off tickets, concessions, and merch. So, the players get a cut of that, of course. Ehhh, not so much. Profits from football and basketball games go to the NCAA and the schools.  Players are actually banned by NCAA rules from making any money off their likeness. For example, if you are a star quarterback for University of State U., the school may manufacture as many jerseys with your starting number on it, but they will not pay you any of the proceeds. If the school decides to make your team the subject of a video game created by EA sports, they can manufacture a computer generated image of you, call it you, stick your jersey number on it, sell the game, make a profit, and they do not cut you a check. They can also make multi-million-dollar deals with television networks to air games in which your team will play. Again, no dohlars for you.

But, but, but, Arsenic Pie, they get a free education! That's enough, right?

Ehh, yeah. About that "education." This is not to say that there isn't such a thing as an outstanding student and athlete at the college level. However, many athletes who are recruited by universities are not academically prepared for the rigors of a college education. Athletes are often admitted on a special status -- that means they often have lower grades and SAT scores than regular students. For example, Stanford University, with a big football program, is famously highly selective of its undergraduate students. I am not being a snob here, but higher grades and test scores are often the result of better pre-college academic preparation (they are often also a function of class privilege and wealth, but that's for another day), and better pre-college preparation often, but not always, results in higher levels of success in college. (Author's note:  I slacked off in high school but graduated college with a 3.7 #humblebrag.) Regular students at University of State U. are expected to attend a certain number of class hours and keep themselves out of academic probation. Student athletes are expected to remain academically eligible to play, in addition to the 40 to 50 hours a week they are expected to be in training and practice. There is really not a whole time for the athletes to attend class or study. This has given rise to "special classes" for athletes, in which they are required to write a paper or read a book, or some other essentially symbolic classwork that they actually have time to do. This has led to "outrage" over student athletes taking "fake" classes. Whether the classes are "fake" or not, what's true is that the athletes are not getting the same quality of education that the normally matriculated students are getting. It may be free for many of the athletes but, I guess...uh...you get what you pay for. (???) Since student athletes have to stay academically eligible to play, and since many of them are academically unprepared, and since many athletes do not have time to keep up with a regular course load on top of their training schedule, is it really any wonder that universities have resorted to giving athletes special classes so they can stay eligible? Because the schools are deliberately recruiting athletes that they willingly know are woefully academically unprepared in order to have a better team so they can win more games. Winning more games = more potential for a championship title. Winning a championship title = more money. So, the argument that they're getting a free education in exchange for their play doesn't hold much water with me. If it's not of the same quality as the other degree-holders from the same university, then it is separate and it is unequal. Athletes often do not finish their degrees, and leave for paid play in the pro leagues. Who can blame them? They either don't have time to get a part-time job or they're not allowed to, so if their families can't support them financially, how do they live? Student athletes have complained about their inability to buy food. With coaches and administrators pocketing million-dollar paychecks, and with the NCAA making billions, this is an outrage. 

If the student athlete is injured and can no longer play, they lose their athletic scholarship. If they cannot afford to continue with their education, they must either leave school or take out loans. Then they would be expected to finish their education taking normal classes, which they may or may not be ready for.

So, the athletes can just choose not to sign a contract with the NCAA, right?

Nope. All NCAA accredited schools (read: the big sports schools) require student athletes to sign a contact in order to play.

So, if they don't want to play by the NCAA's rules, they can just choose not to play, right?

Right, and they can miss out on the potential for a lucrative career in the pros. For talented athletes, that may be their only avenue out of poverty.

Oh, and the NCAA is a non-profit organization. So all of that profit that they make off the efforts of young players is tax-free.

The lesson for student athletes is, if you want to have a chance to make it to the pros, you had better be prepared to make a deal with the devil.

Bigger, Stronger, Faster

Onward to more controversy! I'm feeling British today, so you must read that as conTRAHvahsy.

So...steroids. I am from the generation that was brought up to be scared poopless of using steroids. I was warned if I ever put anything that resembled an anabolic steroid in my booty to enhance athletic performance (not that 13-year-old me wanted to excel athletically), I would immediately turn into a cyborg.

I was warned that if I used steroids, my boobs would shrink and my period would dry up. I was on board with all that and was about to shoot up until they mentioned the lady facial hair part. I was obedient enough to ingest the information in my "good life choices" classes presented by sexually repressed adults so that I have more or less avoided all of the "risky" behavior that they warned us against.

Given that, I was really surprised that I ended up enjoying Bigger, Stronger, Faster: The Side Effects of Being American.

I wouldn't say it is pro-steroid in any way, but it does ask some interesting questions about the mixed messages we send about body image (to men as well as women, but this is one of those rare documentaries that focus on male body image) and about durgs. I mean drugs. I mean. OYU UDN'TSLHO UES DURGS. Why is our society accepting of the use of certain drugs, and we have deemed other drugs to be "bad"? After all, caffeine is a drug that enhances performance (increase in energy) and I've had three cups of butter coffee and a Diet Coke already today and it's not even noon. Butter coffee, you guys.

Bigger, Stronger, Faster focuses on Christopher Bell and his two brothers, Smelly and Mad Dog. Both of Bell's brothers are steroid users, and Mad Dog suffered from drug addictions that eventually took his life in late 2008. The documentary examines the use of anabolic steroids and its relationship to the American Dream. 

I liked this documentary because it pointed out the hypocritical way in which Americans view drugs. On the one hand, Americans decry steroid use, but they spend millions on the rather shady supplement industry. Similarly, some drugs are labeled as steroids and athletes are banned from using them, but they are able to take cortisone shots (Spoiler alert: cortisone is also a steroid.)  I think we've all seen the outrage that accompanied the revelation that Lance Armstrong was juicing. 

I find the last bit especially pertinent today with the Dr. Oz controversy. People who are desperate to lose weight line up in droves to buy a chemically suspect product off an internet retailer that sprung up overnight after an airing of The Dr. Oz Show, but everyone knows that steroids are Satan's own brew.

(That's the second time I've mentioned the devil in this blog post. No known association available at publication date.)

I'm not saying I'm in favor of people going out and shooting themselves in the bum with a steroid to enhance their performance, but I do feel people ought to take a look at what sorts of drugs make someone a "cheater" and what is only an "enhancement."

Also, it features this cow:

Cow.

Shaolin Soccer

So, onto less heavy subject matter. Shaolin Soccer is a 2001 comedy from Hong Kong about a shaolin monk, Sing, who wants to promote kung fu through soccer. Very apropos, is it not? Sing dresses like Bruce Lee and recruits his fellow monks to create an unbeatable soccer team.

Team Shaolin enters a competition and they play against Team Evil, a team that's been injected with an American drug that has made them superhuman (I'm guessing the secret ingredient is Red Bull; I hear it gives one wings). Team Shaolin beats Team people all over the world practice kung fu in their daily lives. The plot is a bit weak, but it's a fun movie with a soccer theme. It's a Hong Kong kung fu movie, so it pays a lot of homage to Bruce Lee, which I of course appreciate. It's very promotional of kung fu, which the Chinese gubbmint seems to have no qualms with promoting. Just as long as it isn't Falun Dafa Soccer, I suppose. Didn't hear anything about that from Bob Costas in 2008, now did we?

The hypocrisy is strong with this one.

One Night in Turin


I've been watching Endeavour again, chickens. On a recent episode, England won the 1966 World Cup.

Footy, footy, footy. ENGLAND ENGLAND.

One Night in Turin is a 2010 documentary that focuses on the 1990 English soccer team. According to the archive footage and the narrator (Gary F*cking Oldman), by 1990, England's soccer glory days were long behind them.

The Scottish Football and Highland Dance Team of 1966.

The film provides a lot of context for the underdog 1990 English team's improbable journey to the World Cup in Turin, Italy. At that point in time, English fans were infamous for being HOOLIGANS and rioting during soccer matches, and the English team wasn't  weren't doing so hot. England itself was suffering from a poor economy due to Thatcher-era policies. The success of the English team galvanized the nation, and brought the English a sense of national pride that they had lost. 

The England team defied everyone's expectations, and not only qualified for the World Cup, they made it into the Group of 16, then the quarter finals, and then the semi-finals, where they faced West Germany, a team whose captain was a 26-year-old Jürgen Klinsmann.

Strictly Ballroom


Were you unjustly robbed of your title as Pan-Pacific Amateur Five-Dance Latin Final Champion? At the Pan-Pacific Grand Prix? Well, guess who else had that happen to him? Scott Hastings, that's who!

SCOOOOOTTTTT!!!

I don't care how much you love Moulin Rouge. This is Baz Luhrmann's best movie. The first movie in Luhrmann's Red Curtain trilogy, Strictly Ballroom makes me happy and full of twenty kinds of joy. If you ever watch it with me, I WILL quote it and I WILL totally spoil it for you 

The plot is pretty simple. It's about Scott Hastings (Paul Mercurio), a rising star in the world of Australian dancesport. Scott is tired of dancing the old steps taught by his dancing instructor and his mother, a former amateur dancer herself (who now teaches dance and sells cosmetics on the side).

Scott wants to dance NEW STEPS with his partner, Liz Holt, but Liz definitely does not want to dance NEW STEPS. Liz drops Scott after an argument, and she partners instead with That Drunk Ken Railings. Scott needs a new partner fast, and he is approached by the awkward, acne-ridden Fran (Tara Morice).

Fran is willing to dance NEW STEPS, so Scott gives her a chance. He meets her Spanish-speaking family, and Fran's father teaches them the steps to the pasodoble. The pasodoble is not new per se, but it is new to the stuffy world of Australian amateur five-dance Latin final. (The pasodoble literally means "double-step" in English, and it was originally a French dance that is danced in Spain and other Spanish-speaking communities.)

¿Tu bailas pasodoble?

Fran transforms herself from a wallflower beginner to an accomplished dancer and hottie. Scott and Fran fall in the lovez, in spite of the opposition from Federation President Barry Fife, Mrs. Hastings, Liz, and well, everyone, except Fran's family. I first watched this in a college Spanish class and I wrote una composición en español about how awesome it is. 

I believe that we will win!

*Am no way ever boycotting waffles and pommes frites. 

Edited to add: I just discovered this afternoon that The Netflixes has a whole selection of soccer-themed 30 for 30 docus available for streaming RIGHT NOW Check out the collection 30 for 30: Soccer Stories. I prithee get thee to yon Netflix posthaste!