This morning I asked the GalPal if she wanted to say anything on behalf of her candidacy for 2021 Sportsperson of the Year. But instead of touting her 2021 athletic greatest hits, she declined, saying, “I’m not into competition anymore.”
How ironic because that’s exactly what this year’s winner says in the middle of this short documentary about what I’m deeming 2021’s Athletic Accomplishment of the Year.
I present to you, the 2021 Sportsperson of the Year, Lachlan Morton and the 2021 Athletic Accomplishment of the Year, The Alt Tour.
What is there not to love about Morton? Among other attributes that tipped the scale his way was his self-awareness, his social conscience, his sense of humor, his commitment to fun, and his utter lack of ego.
Sportsperson of the Year honorable mention goes to two athletes who, like Lachy, also inspire lots of other people without much media coverage at all (not counting Strava and Insta).
Jeanette Byrnes for her commitment to open water swimming and monthly open water plunges sans wetsuit. #nails
Dan, Dan, the Former Transportation Man for sticking like velcro for another year to the Boon Running Team, of which I am a proud member, despite giving up 2-13 years to the youngish, handsome “legends in their own minds” that make up the team. #nails
Sports Accomplishment of the Year honorable mention. M.A.’s inaugural marathon at 62 years young. Way to go rook.
“The NBA actually has an opportunity here to end the precautionary moment, or at least signal its ebb. If commissioner Adam Silver steps forward and announces that his league is ending test protocols and treating this admittedly terrible disease in much the same way we deal with some other respiratory illnesses, that’s a potential cultural shift. The basic plan would be to test players and team officials only if they’re obviously sick (and sit said players if they test positive). And no more of the contact tracing that’s gummed up work behind the scenes of a highly mobile industry. The message could be simple: Look, we can’t functionally operate like it’s 2020; now that the disease is endemic, and vaccines are widely available, we must move into 2022.
This could be an influential move for all the reasons the NBA lockdown was important back in 2020, but now with one new one: The NBA is the archetypal blue state sport. The Covid question has broken along partisan lines, with Democrat-voting spaces far more likely to embrace interventionist measures. If the NBA announces a relaxation, there’s an element of “Nixon goes to China,” a credibility inherent to going against the grain. Such a proclamation grants space if not permission for other non-red world institutions to follow suit and open up despite the surge.”
Do read the whole thing. As thoughtful a rumination on our predicament with the “invisible enemy” as I’ve read. Granted, I might feel that way because I agree with Strauss.
The real heavyweight battle is Carlsen v Nepo. Game 1 is scheduled for Friday, and the best-of-14-game contest could stretch over the next three weeks.
Dig the pictures. From the time I was 3 to 9 years-old, my family lived on Cardiff Road in Louisville, eight miles from this gem according to Google Maps.
I did not know LSC existed until stumbling upon this article. My fam frequented the much closer Plantation Country Club on a daily basis. Yes, you read that correctly, Plantation Country Club. Here’s some history on it. In short, it was an inexpensive, decidedly middle class public swim/tennis/golf club that no longer exists. My sister and a friend taught me to swim there. My brother was a 10-meter dare-devil jumping legend. I started playing golf there when I was 5 or 6. It was a nine hole executive course with lots of par 3s and short 4s. The first hole was about 75 yards long and I dominated it. My tennis greatness can also be traced back to Plantation. As well as my chronic skin cancer.
Hard to believe that when I was 6 and 7 years old, I’d lay a couple of clubs and a putter across my bicycle handlebars and ride to the course, crossing a very busy thoroughfare on the way. A benefit of being the fourth child I suppose.
My most vivid memory of those years—besides the Twinkies—was a family dinner after a long summer’s day on the links. I was a young Tommy Bolt. Earlier that evening, unbeknownst to me, my dad drove past the course on his way home from selling kitchen appliances at General Electric at the exact moment I let a club fly into the upper atmosphere. As dinner drew to a close, my dad said, “If I EVER see you toss another club, those will be your last ones!” And then it kinda ramped up from there.
My dinner plate overflowed with tears. And I never threw another club. Half of this paragraph is true.
The first two submissions are from the same Slate article:
“On Saturday a video began circulating on social media in which he (Meyer) is shown sitting on a bar stool in a busy restaurant while a woman, who is obviously not his wife, Shelley, backs her … stuff … right up into his … situation.”
“. . . at the Columbus steakhouse he (Meyer) owns, which incidentally was the venue where a young woman was just filmed putting her defensive backfield in the direct vicinity of his schematic advantage. . . “
Paris-Roubaix is a one-day, 259 kilometer, professional bicycle road race starting north of Paris and finishing in Roubaix, at the border with Belgium. It has happened every year since 1896 except during the world wars and in 2020 due to the ‘rona. It’s famous for iffy weather, rough terrain, and cobblestones, or “pavé”. It has been called the Hell of the North. The most recent edition, held last Sunday, was particularly hellish.
These images from Sunday’s race are the best collection of sports photographs I’ve ever seen. Read the captions. Take your time.
If the Seattle Mariner magic continues this weekend and they close out the season with a sweep of the “Los Angeles” Angels and make the playoffs, all will be forgiven and forgotten by each and every Specific Northwesterner: Jeff Bezos, the endemic, the unprecedented heat and wild fires, the traffic nightmares, the fractured politics, the Seahawk’s defense, the antiquated airport, the creeping wetness and darkness.
Pressing Pause 