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There’s a bluebird in your heart

Archive for the ‘Sports’ Category

Don Mitchell

Beaten by a Fairy

October 30th, 2009
by Don Mitchell


“I got beaten by a fairy,” I said to David, the New York City Marathon finish line director, after I crossed the finish mats, wondering if I was going to puke. A worker put a medal around my neck. I talked instead of puking.

Kristen Elde

All in the Mind

October 30th, 2009
by Kristen Elde


Ahh, the dead accuracy, the universality (I’ve gotta think) of Don Mitchell’s October 15 post—“Looking Good!”—about his experience running the 2002 New York City Marathon.

“Thousands of them, yelling at me: looking good! I couldn’t stand it.” … “Makes it worse, see, I’m dying, I’m already dead, and what, I’m noticing nice asses? And I’m thinking, What’s wrong with you, shithead. Con-cen-trate. Don’t die.”

What’s wrong with you—concentrate—don’t die. I feel ya, Don.

Rather, I felt ya.


Zara Potts

Take Your Swiss Ball and Shove it up Your Ass

October 21st, 2009
by Zara Potts


I am thirty-seven years old.

I am having a mid-life crisis.

I have joined a gym.


David Breithaupt

I Have Become a Cranky Old Fart

October 16th, 2009
by David Breithaupt


It’s been a slow encroachment, subtle, like the onset of age or the shot that divides the casual user from confirmed addict. Perhaps it has been ticking inside me, like some DNA time-bomb waiting to release its gas, infecting me in increments until finally, I awake one day to realize: I have become a cranky old fart. (more…)

Don Mitchell

Looking Good!

October 15th, 2009
by Don Mitchell


The New York City Marathon’s coming up November 1st. I ran NY in 2002 and 2003 and so I thought I’d post my 2002 marathon piece today, and my 2003 one in a few days. I’m a 5+ hour marathoner now, but vanity (or pride?) compels me to say that I used to be a decent runner. I ran 20 marathons, some ultras and a lot of short stuff.

Greg Olear

And Some Get Rained Out

October 13th, 2009
by Greg Olear


“You win some, you lose some, and some get rained out—but you have to dress for all of ‘em.” —Satchell Paige

I remember the moment when I decided, quite deliberately, to care about baseball.

I was maybe twelve years old, I was at my grandparents’ house, and I was seized by a sudden need to avail myself of the bathroom. Then as now, I hate it when I have to do Number Two and there’s nothing to read. So I grabbed the only printed matter in the house that looked remotely appealing—the sports section of the Morristown (N.J.) Daily Record—and barricaded myself in the can.


Reno J. Romero

One-Fourth Into It, Buttercup, But Lucky You There’s Three-Fourths Left: Notes From Footballdamus

October 10th, 2009
by Reno J. Romero


Four weeks of the NFL season have come and gone. Seems like yesterday some of our favorite professional (and not so favorite) jocks, suited up, started spitting and slapping asses, and took the field to kill each other. I, like many of you, have been there every Sunday bug-eyed and partially insane. It’s been a riot. A pigskin riot.


Jennifer Duffield White

Riding Towards the Light on a Red Bicycle

October 4th, 2009
by Jennifer Duffield White


It’s the cliché metaphor of the last century: The light at the end of the tunnel.

Maybe the guy who hammered and dynamited the railway path through the mountain knew just what it meant.

We think we know, after burying ourselves in whatever misery or work that elicits the oft-used metaphor.

But this isn’t about that. (more…)

Peter Gajdics

Running After the Hands

September 28th, 2009
by Peter Gajdics


Flipping through a recent issue of the local gay newspaper, I noticed two advertisements on facing pages. On the left was an ad for the local gay bathhouse with a picture of three young, hairless (at least clipped), muscled, and implicitly virile men tangled like weeds in each other’s sweaty but greedy arms; on the opposite page was a picture of another (young) man—blue-eyed, with three-day stubble, in a flaming red shirt—advertising the latest AIDS medication. The message, whether the marketers were aware of it or not, was powerful: have fun, and if (when) you get sick, buy our medication. Sex sells, even with illness looming offstage. (more…)

Aaron Dietz

Most Memorable Moments from Grade School

September 17th, 2009
by Aaron Dietz


This is a list of my most memorable moments from grade school, by year.

I stole this idea from Erika Rae, partially because it’s a good idea and she did it well, and also partially because I’m partial to lists. Lists are cool.

Kindergarten–My memory’s fuzzy. I think I read a lot of dinosaur books.

First Grade–I raced J_______ to be the first one to finish each assignment. Occasionally it came down to who could run to the teacher’s desk faster. I was a total nerd (and still am).

Second Grade–I cut my finger and blood was running everywhere, but I was too shy to ask for help. For a while, I hid it under my construction paper. Eventually, the teacher saw blood and took over. (more…)

Reno J. Romero

Bring the NFL Pain: Gridiron Pesole Revisited

September 16th, 2009
by Reno J. Romero



It’s back. 

I feel whole and brand new. Like that Stylistics tune. As many of you know, it was a long and brutal wait. I jonesed and bitched. But it’s here again. On time. Just like Christmas. 

I was 13 for 16 in Week 1. That’s right. They were simple picks. The teams you figured to win did just that. Too bad I’m not in Vegas. I could have turned a buck and hooked me up with a couple of hot dogs loaded with mustard and stinky onions.


Paul Clayton

Le Voisinage de Monsieur Roger, First Blood, Part I, Chapter 7, addendum 1.2, or Wally Gator gets down with the crew at the sauna…

August 17th, 2009
by Paul Clayton


As usual, I drove to the municipal pool last Sunday.  My route takes me past the soccer field.  A game was in progress, one team wearing green shorts and jerseys, the other blue.  Soccer is really big here in South City with the Mexicans and Central Americans.  They’re out there most Sundays, their families picnicking on the grounds, watching.  There’s always a truck parked alongside the field selling burritos and tacos.  We also have a baseball field adjoining that.  They usually play Saturday and some evenings under the lights. (more…)


UFC- Not for Me

August 12th, 2009
by Smibst


I don’t watch Ultimate Fighting for the same reason I don’t watch replays of the planes hitting the towers.

I want to keep my innocence. 

The other day I was sent a video clip of two girls doing something extremely heinous. I didn’t click on it.

When I was younger, I wanted to lose my innocence as soon as possible. But now, I want to hang on to what little I have left.


Doug Mulliken

Not a Thousand Words: Marvin Gaye, Mexico, and Patriotism

August 1st, 2009
by Doug Mulliken

United States of America, North America, the World -

I am an American.  I am an American because I was born in the United States of America.  I was born in the United States of America because my parents, and their parents, and their parents’ parents, and their parents’ parents’ parents, were born in the United States.  My family can trace its genealogy in this country back to a man named Robert Mulliken who was born in Scotland and arrived in the Massachusetts Bay colony in the 1680s.  Think about that for a second.  My family has been in this country since the 17th century.  I am about as American as you can get.  My ancestors may have come from Scotland or Ireland or wherever, but for me to suggest that I am a “hyphenated American” would be a slap in the face to those Americans whose connection to the country of their ancestors is, say, three years instead of three centuries.  I’m not Scottish-American, or Irish-American; I’m just American.  And yet I feel no connection to my country.


James Simpson

A Thousand Words: Say Uncle

July 14th, 2009
by James Simpson


In photos from his youth he looked like a porcelain doll, a severely myopic puppet. When I knew him, he was in constant motion, a coiled spring: knee bouncing, fingers grasping and lighting cigarettes, eyes darting, lips moving and always talking sports. I couldn’t keep up with him though I knew I was smarter.

He was my mother’s only sibling, born when my grandmother was in her 40s, eventually becoming too much for her to care for. Back then my Uncle Billy had a sweeping range of unspecified mental issues (widely ignored by all around him), yet he possessed an eidetic memory for sports trivia. (Asperger’s Syndrome wouldn’t be recognized until 1944 and only officially named for Hans Asperger in 1981, a year after the good doctor’s death.) He was hyperactive, displayed attention deficit tendencies, was susceptible to stimulants and depressants alike. We merely called him Silly Billy, but not to his face. Billy was simply complicated.

Dawn Corrigan

Am I Having Fun Yet?

July 14th, 2009
by Dawn Corrigan


In June my husband signed us up for a program called “Golf for the Fun of It!” at the local country club.

“Golf for the Fun of It!” is a free class for beginners. It runs for six weeks. The lessons are taught by a PGA Professional, and the country club supplies all the equipment.

During the six weeks of class, students can go to the club anytime and practice at no charge.

When the class is over, the country club provides graduates with a set of clubs for 30 days afterward, also at no charge, so they can continue working on their game.

That’s a lot of free stuff. It’s a pretty sweet deal.

I mean, you know. If you’re into that sort of thing.


Reno J. Romero

Ball In: Basketball Dreams in the Heart of Memory and William Kittredge

July 8th, 2009
by Reno J. Romero


So, the plane touched down. I sat in between some dude that had a little too much of Vegas and some chick with large pretty brown eyes.

He smelled like he was broke.

She smelled good.

I like girls that smell good. (more…)

David S. Wills

Why I Support Iran (and Cameroon)

June 23rd, 2009
by David S. Wills


I recall an incident last summer when I was almost lynched in downtown Daegu by a hundred angry Korean football fans… It was the 2008 Olympics, and while the rest of the world focussed on the sport, Korea was obsessed – as always – with national pride and the supposed superiority of their people.

Every restaurant and bar had a TV tuned to the Olympics, and not for one moment did they show an event that didn’t include a Korean participant. This might seem strange to people from countries where the population is interested in the plight of others, but that’s not the strangest part… When Korean TV showed Korean athletes competing, they’d cut the broadcast before the Korean participant had lost. Sometimes they’d simply edit the match to make it look like the Korea had one when they hadn’t, or to make it look like they’d always been in control when they had won.


Reno J. Romero

Pushing: Seeking the Runner’s Mind in the Shadow of Wayne Newton and Frankenstein

June 22nd, 2009
by Reno J. Romero


I jog around five days a week.

I have two routes.

One route is my neighborhood and it consists of a giant square through a few neighborhoods that are infested with chihuahuas, faded houses, and small apartments.

The other is Sunset Park. A large park loaded with baseball fields, volleyball and basketball courts, etc, and a jogging/walking trail that weaves around a lake. One lap, one mile. Two laps, two miles. You get the idea.


Jennifer Duffield White

The Subtle Differences Between Bear Bones and Human Feet

May 1st, 2009
by Jennifer Duffield White


When the snow melts, things turn up with stories hidden in their decomposition.

A cigarette carton.

An abandoned navy blue sweatshirt.

A stray mitten.

And bones. (more…)