I watched this one twice.
Not twice the way I had watched No Crossover or Without Bias before, prior to starting this project; twice last night prior to writing this entry.
The first time I watched it, things that were said hit me, touched me, moved me, and made me smile. I could remember the essentials of them, but I figured "Why not get them perfectly accurate?"
So I watched again, this time with a pen in one hand, the remote in the other, my finger hovering over the pause button so I could scribble down the powerful messages coming from this moving work.
The 16th Man is a story about the power of sport, but it's also a story about forgiveness, acceptance, and working to change the future instead of dwelling on the past.
The film tells the story of the 1995 Rugby World Cup in South Africa, and how that event brought the country together, led by Nelson Mandela.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Run Ricky Run
Is it Ricky Williams or the rest of us who are screwed up?
That one of the fundamental questions of Sean Pamphilon and Royce Toni's outstanding five-year look at the NFL running back who walked away from the sport in August 2004.
Everyone was quick to judge Williams for hanging up his cleats, saying he chose smoking marijuana over playing football, but ask yourself this: if you're not happy playing football – and not happy with who you are — should you really keep playing just because everyone else thinks that what you should do?
Just because few people could fathom walking away from a lucrative NFL contract, the spotlight, the fame, and everything else they associate with being a professional athlete doesn't mean Williams was wrong in his decision. It was his decision, for his reasons, and it seems to have helped him grow as a person, which trumps anything he could have achieved on the football field.
That one of the fundamental questions of Sean Pamphilon and Royce Toni's outstanding five-year look at the NFL running back who walked away from the sport in August 2004.
Everyone was quick to judge Williams for hanging up his cleats, saying he chose smoking marijuana over playing football, but ask yourself this: if you're not happy playing football – and not happy with who you are — should you really keep playing just because everyone else thinks that what you should do?
Just because few people could fathom walking away from a lucrative NFL contract, the spotlight, the fame, and everything else they associate with being a professional athlete doesn't mean Williams was wrong in his decision. It was his decision, for his reasons, and it seems to have helped him grow as a person, which trumps anything he could have achieved on the football field.
Silly Little Game
My name is Spencer (Edgar Spencer), and I'm a fantasy sports addict.
(Hi Spencer.)
If you're like me, someone who plays fantasy football in the fall, basketball through the winter, baseball in the spring and summer, has dabbled in golf and hockey, and even tried Fantasy NASCAR once despite the fact that I (a) think NASCAR is ridiculous and (b) know next to nothing about NASCAR, you'd enjoy the latest addition to The 30 for 30 Project, Silly Little Game.
What is now known as Fantasy Baseball originated as Rotisserie Baseball.
Why "rotisserie" you ask? Well, it's because the men who first cooked up the idea liked to meet at La Rotisserie Francaise for chicken. No, I'm not making that up.
Silly Little Game traces what has become a massive industry back to its origins, when a group of friends began playing a game they'd created where you drafted your own team of players and ranked each team across several different categories based on their accumulated stats.
Two things:
(1) They started with just National League players, using an auction format for their draft.
(2) One man, Dan Okrent — the lead "Founding Father" or rotisserie baseball — kept track of all the stats. By hand. From boxscores.
That makes me feel spoiled by technology and extremely lazy.
(Hi Spencer.)
If you're like me, someone who plays fantasy football in the fall, basketball through the winter, baseball in the spring and summer, has dabbled in golf and hockey, and even tried Fantasy NASCAR once despite the fact that I (a) think NASCAR is ridiculous and (b) know next to nothing about NASCAR, you'd enjoy the latest addition to The 30 for 30 Project, Silly Little Game.
What is now known as Fantasy Baseball originated as Rotisserie Baseball.
Why "rotisserie" you ask? Well, it's because the men who first cooked up the idea liked to meet at La Rotisserie Francaise for chicken. No, I'm not making that up.
Silly Little Game traces what has become a massive industry back to its origins, when a group of friends began playing a game they'd created where you drafted your own team of players and ranked each team across several different categories based on their accumulated stats.
Two things:
(1) They started with just National League players, using an auction format for their draft.
(2) One man, Dan Okrent — the lead "Founding Father" or rotisserie baseball — kept track of all the stats. By hand. From boxscores.
That makes me feel spoiled by technology and extremely lazy.
Friday, December 2, 2011
No Crossover: The Trial of Allen Iverson
I watched this one even before I thought about starting this project, for multiple reasons.
Like any other basketball fiend, I'm a huge fan of director Steve James' Hoop Dreams, the award-winning documentary about two high school basketball players in Chicago, William Gates and Arthur Agee (note: no Google needed), and they respective journeys through their senior year and beyond.
Secondly, I'm an Allen Iverson fan; have been from Day One — Georgetown Day One, not NBA Day One either.
Lastly, stories like this intrigue me — and often end up annoying me — so when I got the box set back at the end of October, No Crossover was one of the first films that hit my DVD player.
Before he was "The Answer," Iverson was "Bubba Chuck," a two-sport star at Bethel High School in Hampton, Virginia. Before he was a polarizing figure in the NBA, he was high school kid who almost never made it to college, let alone the pros, as a result of the bowling alley brawl that serves as the focus of this excellent film.
Like any other basketball fiend, I'm a huge fan of director Steve James' Hoop Dreams, the award-winning documentary about two high school basketball players in Chicago, William Gates and Arthur Agee (note: no Google needed), and they respective journeys through their senior year and beyond.
Secondly, I'm an Allen Iverson fan; have been from Day One — Georgetown Day One, not NBA Day One either.
Lastly, stories like this intrigue me — and often end up annoying me — so when I got the box set back at the end of October, No Crossover was one of the first films that hit my DVD player.
Before he was "The Answer," Iverson was "Bubba Chuck," a two-sport star at Bethel High School in Hampton, Virginia. Before he was a polarizing figure in the NBA, he was high school kid who almost never made it to college, let alone the pros, as a result of the bowling alley brawl that serves as the focus of this excellent film.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Guru of Go
Been a pretty basketball-heavy last couple of days in 30 for 30 land, but I'm not complaining. Watching these films has gotten me back in love with the game, and excited about the upcoming NBA season by extension.
This one also made me more than a little sad. In fact, this one brought my wife out of from making gingerbread in the kitchen and onto the couch to sit with me, the emotions in my voice evident when she asked me about something that was said in the film.
Guru of Go tells the story of basketball coach Paul Westhead and his style of play, known simply as "The System," focused primarily on his time at Loyola Marymount University.
The best way I can describe it is if you took the Mike D'Antoni era Phoenix Suns — Nash, Amare, Matrix, whoever played the 2 knocking down threes — and pressed fast forward. For the entire game. Every game. No matter who was on the other side of the court.
This was YMCA pickup hoops at the NCAA level, and it produced the highest scoring team in NCAA history. It also produced one of the saddest stories and most memorable NCAA tournament performances I can remember.
This one also made me more than a little sad. In fact, this one brought my wife out of from making gingerbread in the kitchen and onto the couch to sit with me, the emotions in my voice evident when she asked me about something that was said in the film.
Guru of Go tells the story of basketball coach Paul Westhead and his style of play, known simply as "The System," focused primarily on his time at Loyola Marymount University.
The best way I can describe it is if you took the Mike D'Antoni era Phoenix Suns — Nash, Amare, Matrix, whoever played the 2 knocking down threes — and pressed fast forward. For the entire game. Every game. No matter who was on the other side of the court.
This was YMCA pickup hoops at the NCAA level, and it produced the highest scoring team in NCAA history. It also produced one of the saddest stories and most memorable NCAA tournament performances I can remember.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Winning Time: Reggie Miller vs. The New York Knicks
Remember how I rattled off a list of things I missed about the NBA in my post about Without Bias? Watching Winning Time last night gave me more items to at to that list.
The film documents the back-and-forth between Reggie Miller and the New York Knicks, focusing in on the 1994 and 1995 Eastern Conference playoffs.
For anyone old enough to remember those series, you have to watch this film. I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat throughout, thinking back to the heat between the two teams, the under-rated awesomeness of Miller, and how much I really enjoyed seeing the New York Knicks lose in '94.
Let's get this part out of the way right now: Reggie Miller is a Hall of Famer. He averaged 18-plus over an 18-year career, with a couple boards, a couple assists, and a steal on the side, and was an assassin.
assassin (basketball): a player who you don't want to see with the ball in their hands as the clock winds down in a close game, because you're pretty certain they're going to kill it.
That's what this film boils down to as well — Reggie's ability to shine in the spotlight opposite the seeming inability of those Knicks teams to every quite get over the hump.
The film documents the back-and-forth between Reggie Miller and the New York Knicks, focusing in on the 1994 and 1995 Eastern Conference playoffs.
For anyone old enough to remember those series, you have to watch this film. I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat throughout, thinking back to the heat between the two teams, the under-rated awesomeness of Miller, and how much I really enjoyed seeing the New York Knicks lose in '94.
Let's get this part out of the way right now: Reggie Miller is a Hall of Famer. He averaged 18-plus over an 18-year career, with a couple boards, a couple assists, and a steal on the side, and was an assassin.
assassin (basketball): a player who you don't want to see with the ball in their hands as the clock winds down in a close game, because you're pretty certain they're going to kill it.
That's what this film boils down to as well — Reggie's ability to shine in the spotlight opposite the seeming inability of those Knicks teams to every quite get over the hump.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The U
This might be the first piece in the series that a wide audience has already watched, as the premiere of The U garnered 2.3 million viewers on December 12, 2009.
If you're a football fan — college or NFL — this is a must-see look at one of the most successful and controversial talent factories in the sport, the University of Miami.
Here's the thing with Miami: you either love them, as my friend Butch has for as long as I've known him, or you hate them, like thousands upon thousands of people most certainly do.
The documentary traces the football program from the Howard Schnellenberger era (1979-83) and wraps with the Larry Coker's 2001 squad that won the National Championship, their fifth in the period covered in the film.
Along the way, they made a lot of fans, launched a lot of NFL careers, and pissed off a ton of people with their actions on and off the field.
While Schnellenberger turned the program into a powerhouse, winning the National Championship in 1983 before departing to coach in the USFL, the period that puts people on either side of The U ran from the Jimmy Johnson years starting in 1984.
If you're a football fan — college or NFL — this is a must-see look at one of the most successful and controversial talent factories in the sport, the University of Miami.
Here's the thing with Miami: you either love them, as my friend Butch has for as long as I've known him, or you hate them, like thousands upon thousands of people most certainly do.
The documentary traces the football program from the Howard Schnellenberger era (1979-83) and wraps with the Larry Coker's 2001 squad that won the National Championship, their fifth in the period covered in the film.
Along the way, they made a lot of fans, launched a lot of NFL careers, and pissed off a ton of people with their actions on and off the field.
While Schnellenberger turned the program into a powerhouse, winning the National Championship in 1983 before departing to coach in the USFL, the period that puts people on either side of The U ran from the Jimmy Johnson years starting in 1984.
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