On Wednesday, Ichiro stepped up and rapped a double down the right field line. Ichiro then stood on second base the holder of another record, albeit an unofficial one. In sizing up the sheer scale of the accomplishment, cold numbers fall short; it takes a long view to appreciate it. You have to have seen the stoic perfection play out day after day, year after year.
Clayton Kershaw, the Dodger on the mound.
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He of the high-winding high-wired hustle — chain lightening, a hit-preventing kick. He is strict.
The most interesting sporting event I’ve ever witnessed took place between a pair of football teams from a flash-in-the-pan league, full of never-was and has-been players competing in an iconic baseball stadium on the verge of…
Federer and Me takes structural cues from A Fan’s Notes, it roams through dark periods in Skidelsky’s life, returning to idea that the Swiss Magician offered constancy during confusing, troubling times.
There are no ifs, maybes or caveats allowed in American sports and now in American culture—you’re either a champion or you’re a loser: a nothing. Because, as anyone who’s played a team sport has heard countless times from some numbskull coach, “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.”
Regardless of what happens in these Finals, the outcome will be memorable. But for any real, dedicated basketball fan? There’s no choice but to root for the Golden State Warriors.
Dirt, cops, and stairs. Now this is a park. Dodger Stadium, a Tuesday evening in June.
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A dedicated grounds crew here, with the blue hose to shoot.
What is it about the Japanese wrestler Shinsuke Nakamura’s “strong style” that has WWE fans chanting “fight forever” during his matches?
You are sitting in an oversized leather chair in your bedroom, watching the Rockies come back. Your stomach is cramping and your hands are shaking. As Matt Holliday rounds third base you drop your head in your hands and cry. Even though you are an adult with a child and a mortgage and a job, you cry. And you will never sit in that stupid chair again because it is absolutely the chair’s fault.
League standings are posted online and we study them religiously. It’s not clear why. There are no prizes for winning, not even, frankly, any measure of pride. Each twelve-game season folds seamlessly into the next, making a years-long comedy of lofted misfires, keeping gaffes, and defensive breakdowns. Mostly we win.