Category: Sports

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Life as a Sports Fan – Cheers to my Carolina Hurricanes

I had to bring back Sports Wednesday. When I started to write this blog, back in 2017, I focused a lot of attention on sports stories. While I hadn’t worked in sports media for many years, I never lost the interest, or quite frankly, the passion, for sports. Yes, I am a sports fan. 

The first sports-focused story was posted just over eight years ago, on Wednesday, May 24th, 2017. It was my introduction to my love of sports and how I instilled that love in my son, Matthew. I am fortunate that early in my career I was able to parlay my love of sports into a job, first in radio then in television.

I learned about the business of sports, the industry of sports, and my gosh, the fanaticism of sports! I thought I was a huge baseball and hockey fan, and then I worked in sports radio where I quickly realized there was a world of sports knowledge and obsession I never knew about.

Which brings me to another blog post from my early days of Kinetic Motions – posted on Wednesday, June 14th, 2017, when I explained why I am a fan of the Carolina Hurricanes. If you didn’t work with me in sports media years ago, or you haven’t read all my posts (that’s okay, I forgive you!), or you aren’t my mother, then you may be thinking – what? Why does this person from Toronto, in Canada, love the Carolina Hurricanes? Or, why did she? Does she still?

Yes, I am still a big fan of the Carolina Hurricanes. I made that promise over 20 years ago, when I was a young, inexperienced and humble journalist. Back then, this scrappy hockey team was relatively new to the Raleigh-Durham area, after it’s relocation from Hartford. They received limited local media coverage, and team leadership were thrilled when a national Canadian radio network gave them attention (me, the newbie hockey producer!). I became a fan then, and yes, I am still a huge fan today.

Since the team’s stunning, incredible, amazing (how many more adjectives can I offer?) Stanley Cup win in 2006, my team has been up and down. They’ve had a few good playoff runs, but they haven’t hoisted the Cup in almost 20 years. When was the last time the Leafs brought the Stanley Cup back to Toronto? Was that almost 60 years ago? But I digress.

If you are a hockey fan, this is a great time of year. Actually, spring is always a great time of year for those of us who are sports fans, especially those of multiple sports. Basketball playoffs are in full swing, baseball is cruising along, and the NHL has settled in to the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs.

Players are skating injured. Super-fans are showing up at work exhausted some days, after they stayed up to watch a double or triple overtime. Sports bars are packed on game nights, and you can hear screams and sighs, depending on whether the home team scored.

It’s a bit of a festive season in May for the sports fan, especially if your team wins. My team, yes, the Carolina Hurricanes, played game one of the second round last night, in Washington DC. The game was tied 1-1 at the end of three periods. And so, off to overtime they went.

If you are a sports fan, you know about that special kind of anxiety you feel when it’s the playoffs and your team is playing in overtime, or extra innings. It’s like the air suddenly changes. Even watching from home, you can feel how tense everything is.

That was me last night. But once again, my super team came through and scored just over 3 minutes into overtime. Phew. They won the first game! I cheered! I screamed! My family ignored me.

Most people roll their eyes, or they just plain make fun of me, when I remind them, or share with them, that I’m a Carolina Hurricanes fan. Even if I don’t know who half the players on the team are anymore, and if I don’t watch every game, I am a committed fan.

And yes, if you are wondering – if, yes if – the Hurricanes make it to the third round – and if, yes if – the Leafs do, they will play each other. And yes, I will be cheering for the Carolina Hurricanes. No, I’m not a homer. I’m a loyal fan of my Canes.

Being a sports fan, I believe, is joyful. There is so much in life that is hard, or is upsetting, but sports brings us together in a special way. Even if you watch with someone who supports the rival team, you are connected through your love of the game. I tease Leafs fans incessantly (and you know who you are!), but I will watch a hockey game with you any day.

Especially when our teams make it to the third round of the playoffs – and my team beats yours!

 

 

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Tales from a Snowboarding Novice

Why am I doing this?

I asked myself this question, over and over again this morning, after I strapped the snowboard to my feet. I had some absurd thought that learning a new sport, one in which an individual flies down a giant snow-covered mountain on a single, large board, would be a good idea.

It’s fun, I was told. Or, the learning curve is really steep, but it’s worth it once you get the hang of it. And then there was the, it’s so much cooler than skiing.

Let’s take a step back for a moment, so I can explain how I got here.

I have been a skier since I was four years old. I am comfortable on skis and can very competently go down any kind of terrain. I put my kids on skis when they were two years old, and yet somehow, all three ended up snowboarding (some younger than others). Everyone in my extended family skis or snowboards. It’s just what we do in the winter.

I love to ski, but I’m always looking for a new challenge. So I decided in the off-season, why not try snowboarding this winter?

I ask myself now, after my first full 90-minute snowboarding lesson, why didn’t I pick something easier, like chess, or fencing, maybe bobsledding? Did I have any idea what I was getting myself into?

Thanks to my sister, I was set up with great equipment, from the boots to the board. I had key padding, like wrist-guards built into my gloves, and most important, an industrial-level butt pad. That’s right, I was warned that I would fall hard, often on my behind, and that I needed the right armour to protect delicate parts.

So, I looked great this morning as I walked toward my adult beginner snowboarding class. When the instructors asked me my experience with a snowboard, I proudly said, none! I was a newbie. And my gosh, was I ever a newbie….

Putting on a snowboard, standing on a snowboard and moving on a snowboard is not intuitive. After a few more questions, the instructors figured out I’m a right-foot-forward, also known as “goofy.” That clearly was a perfect description of how I felt as the class begun.

I easily mastered the first challenges put to me. Strap the right foot to the board. Check. Place the left foot on the board just beside the binding. Easy, check. Bend the knees and shift the weight as both feet are on the board. Okay I can do this. Do 360 turns (on a flat surface) with the board. Wow I can do that too!

And now time to move. Try pushing off with the left foot behind and in front of the board.  Push push glide. That worked too! Hike up, just a bit, up the hill, to start to feel how to move on the board. Hm…. That’s a bit harder. What, I’m supposed to actually move on this giant board?

What the ears hear, what the brain comprehends and what the rest of the body does don’t necessarily correspond. The very seasoned, wonderful and patient instructors showed me how to gently place my left foot on my board, look forward, bend my knees a bit and glide along a short distance.

First it took me a few minutes to get the confidence to try to move. My legs were like cement. My body seemed quite content to just stay put. One instructor asked me, “what’s your anxiety level right now?” I stood there, embarrassed, as I said, “very high!”

He laughed at me, told me to smile, and to just give it a try. I did. I relaxed a bit, smiled and let myself go. I moved two feet. I did it! I moved!

Somehow my instructors saw my accomplishment to move a couple of feet as a big deal, that I was ready for the next step – a big step: The Magic Carpet!

Surrounded by dozens of 3-5-year-old children on skis and snowboards, all of whom seemed to be flying down the hill with their 14 and 15-year-old expert instructors, there I stood at the precipice of the mountain. What is literally not even a beginner hill, really only a man-made hillock for beginners, I had to face my big fear: strap two feet to a giant board and move!

Lean on the toes. Lean on the heels. Slide. Push. Glide. Hips toward the trees. Turn! Stop! Everything seemed like a jumbled mush to me! I am a very logical person, and every instruction I was given made perfect sense. Keep my weight even and bend my knees. Deep breaths. Stay calm. Don’t panic as I start to move.

I learned today that I have muscles in the inner part of my thighs that I never knew existed. I also learned that when you are a novice, and one foot isn’t yet strapped in, you can very easily get your legs into the splits, while you, on your board, are traveling down the hill.

Pain. Searing pain.

Why am I doing this?

snowboarding
I’m perfectly happy just sitting.

I sat down. On the children’s hill. As yet another 3-year-old flew past me. Could I get past the pain? Could I learn how to glide and stop with my toes then stop with my heels?

As I sat there, looking down the hill, my snowboard strapped to my feet in front of my me, memories of childbirth flashed in my head. I was set up in the perfect position to give birth, and with the pains shooting down my legs, the memories were vaguely familiar. But I digress.

I took a short break, with my patient, and really, so kind instructor, and because of her positive encouragement, and helping hand to haul me up, I gave it another try. Back to the top of the Magic Carpet.

I didn’t always go the right direction, I fell forwards and sideways and on my behind (thank you, butt pad!), but I made it down.

I even hiked further up the beginner hill (called ABC) to learn the preliminary stages of sliding down. That actually went okay. Is it normal that hiking up is easier than sliding down?

By the end of my 90-minute class, I was sweating profusely, slightly out of breath with legs that seemed more like Jell-0. My mother picked me up from my class (just like the 3-year-olds, it’s important that one’s mother drops you off and picks you up!), and I shuffled my way back to my locker to remove my gear.

Here’s a few things I learned on my first day of snowboarding:

  • It’s a steep learning curve.
  • Doing the splits on a snowboard is a bad idea.
  • Padding on key spots of the body is very important.
  • You need to multi-task: bend the knees, keep the weight even, look straight….
  • Small children have a clear advantage, being closer to the ground.
  • I am not so young anymore, and I have pain in previously unknown parts of my body.
  • Success is very much determined by mind over matter. Don’t psyche myself out.

So, day one on a snowboard is complete. I did it! My level is closer to sub-beginner, I’m tired and in pain, but it was worth it. Will I go back tomorrow for my next lesson: yes!

Keep reading to follow my journey, as I write my Tales of a Snowboarding Novice.

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He’s Growing Up. Part One.

He's growing up. Part one.

June 19th, 2006. This is a date that I will never forget. Two significant things happened on this date, over 18 years ago. First, that was the date that my beloved Carolina Hurricanes beat the Edmonton Oilers, in 7 games, to win the Stanley Cup. Second, it was the day I learned I was pregnant with my first child, Matthew.

I’m not going to write paragraph after paragraph here about my love affair with the Hurricanes. I did that when I first launched this blog in 2017. You are most welcome to re-read that post. Today I want to journey back to that moment when I first learned about Matthew.

Back in June of 2006 he wasn’t yet Matthew. We didn’t even know that he was a “he.” What we had was “Obie” – short for our baby. I was superstitious and was only focused on doing everything I could to give birth to a healthy child. Months later, Matthew was born. And he was perfect.

So, why am I writing about my son’s birth today, in the middle of November? It’s not his birthday and today he didn’t achieve any specific milestone. But, today was a special day, for Matthew, and for me.

I’m writing from Miami, Florida. Matthew and I flew here on Thursday evening, so that we could spend a few days here to visit potential universities. For me, it’s been a very emotional day, and memories of learning I was pregnant, and his birth, came whooshing back.

He’s growing up. No, he’s not grown up yet, and I don’t know when I will be ready to say that he is a grown-up. I have raised an intelligent, mature and responsible person. He makes good choices, he’s focused on doing well in school and is ambitious. But the little boy, who insisted on his “tzetzi” (pacifier) to be plugged into his mouth at night, or the child who said “merote” instead of “remote” until he was eight, is still there.

On this short trip, it’s just the two of us. We are visiting two schools in the Miami area, both of which offer programs within the discipline he wants to pursue – sports management, analytics and administration. He knows what he wants to do, and he’s known that since he was 10 years old.

It was seven years ago that Matthew and I went on our last mom and son trip together, to Chicago. I took him on a special visit there, to see the Toronto Blue Jays play the Chicago Cubs, and as a bonus, Toronto FC was also in town to play the Chicago Fire (soccer). We got tickets to both. It was a wonderful few days. Little did I know that his visit to Wrigley Field, with its history, rickety seats and funky smells, would be where his love of baseball and career aspirations really took shape.

Over the past seven years, Matthew’s love of baseball grew, as did his love of so many other sports (I won’t whine here about his strict adherence to watching 3 NFL games at once on Sundays!). He dove into the data, the rules, the history and unique aspects of baseball. As he watched games on TV, he considered players’ body angles, running agility and pitch speed. His analytical mind went to places I didn’t know were possible with sports.

He wasn’t just a little boy anymore, who played T-ball or threw the baseball around with his grandmother. Matthew didn’t just watch games on TV or enjoy a Blue Jays game at the ballpark. He was building his future.

As we walked around the university campus today, Matthew looked like he belonged there. Okay, so the palm trees were nice, and the green lawns, warm breeze and blue skies were great. But when we met with an associate dean at the school, that’s when he lit up. He explained how advanced mathematics, along with data analytics, can play a role in baseball. I sat there, in awe, as he told an experienced university academic how math formulas can be solved, not just to throw numbers on a page, but as a path to solve problems.

They engaged in a conversation about the power of data, and how it can help inform decisions but can also be dangerous if not handled responsibly.

It was in that moment, at the university, when it really hit me, that he really was growing up.

Most of his university applications are complete, and in the coming months, Matthew will decide where life takes him next. I am feeling so many emotions – excited and yet scared. Happy but sad. Confident and yet nervous. For him, and for me.

I want my children to dream big, and I want to do everything I can to make their dreams come true. June 19th, 2006 was a big day. So was November 15th,, 2024.

Watch for He’s Growing Up, Part 2, when he goes off to University. 

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Women Run Circles around the Men

If you know me, or if you follow my blog, you know that I’m a sports fan. It’s a topic I love to write about, from baseball to hockey to football and basketball. Skiing. Tennis. And of course, the Olympics. Yes I admit it. I love the Olympics. I love to watch the Olympics, whether it’s the winter or summer games. I can’t get enough of it. For the past week and a half I have closely followed the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games, but what has piqued my interest the most are the Canadian women.

I am a person who defines myself in many ways. When I ask myself who I am, I never have a simple answer. Of course I am a mother and a wife. I’m a daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, cousin, friend. I am a writer and communications leader. But I’m also a woman. I’m a woman with a voice, often a loud voice.

My career has been shaped, in part, by choices that I made as a woman. I turned down a promotion, and raise, when my son turned one, so that I could work part-time and be with him. I was laid off from a job during a supposed reorganization weeks after I returned from a year-long maternity leave with my older daughter. I lost another job while I was on maternity leave with my third child!

I learned years ago that I couldn’t do it all. Kudos to the women who find a way to do it all, but for most of us, we need to make choices. If I wanted to be with my children when they were babies, it meant my career slowed down, or at times, paused. If I want to push myself all the way now at work, it means time away from my kids. So many women feel this pull, as they push forward with a career and raise a family.

So, back to where I began and my love of the Olympics. I’m not going to make excuses for that. There are many reasons why the Olympics may be past their prime and need to be rethought for our 21st century society. The cost to plan and execute the games is absurd. Venues are built that often fall into a state of decay a few years later. The lives of the locals are put on hold when the world arrives in their town. Quite frankly, the Olympic games are rather unpopular.

The Olympics has never been less popular than the 2020 games (yes, happening in 2021). Even I, a long-time fan, had my doubts. But, I woke up at 6:30 am back on July 23rd, to watch the opening ceremonies on TV. As soon as the countdown began to the live event, at 7:00 am my time, I was hooked. I watched the athletes march out, each with a woman and man holding their country’s flag, together. I heard the commentators state that Team Canada has about an equal number of men and women this time. There was a feeling in the air that it was an Olympics that wouldn’t just be defined by a global pandemic but also the strength, determination and power of great women.

Before even one game was played or one race run, women made headlines around the world. Canadian boxer Mandy Bujold won an appeal to compete, since she chose to have a baby during the qualifying period. But it wasn’t only Bujold who got a chance to compete. She changed the rules so that in the future, women who are pregnant or postpartum during qualifying will have a chance to compete.

Then there’s Kim Gaucher and her baby, Sophie. She appealed – and won her case – to bring her infant with her to the Olympics so that she could nurse her daughter.  And don’t forget the Norwegian women’s beach handball team who were fined for not wearing bikinis at a European Federation event. It went viral on social media and was not actually connected to the Olympics, but it brought up the role of uniforms for women in sport.

And once the games began, Canadian women are lighting it up. As I write this blog, Team Canada has won 3 gold, 4 silver and 7 bronze medals. How many have been won by women? Thirteen. Do the math. 3 + 4 + 6 = 13. With the exception of the great Andre de Grasse who won a bronze medal in the 100 metre sprint), all the medals have been won by women. I do not want to discount the hard work and incredible effort and achievements by our Canadian men. Just being at the Olympics is an achievement. A top 10 finish is amazing. And how about a fourth place finish? Two one-hundredths of a second in a race can separate an athlete from a medal and fourth place.

But let’s go back to the incredible achievement of our Canadian women. Like me, every one of Canada’s female athletes has a story and define themselves in many ways. Some are wives or mothers. They may be students or professionals. And they are all Olympic athletes. It would be hard to find another sporting event around the world where women are adored and celebrated like they are at the Olympic games.

I watched as the Canadian team rowed and raced in the Women’s-Eight event. I was in awe as they pushed themselves to the brink of exhaustion and stayed ahead of the competition from the moment their ores hit the water. This amazing group won gold. They come from diverse backgrounds and came together as one strong team to achieve greatness – while the world watched.

Canadian women are making their mark in the pool, as they swim and dive. Weight lifting. Softball. Judo. And of course rowing. But they are really making their mark on Canadian women – and girls. We are reading about them on the internet. We are watching them achieve greatness on TV. And we are talking about them at home. The story in Canada right now is just how great our female athletes are. These Olympic games are pushing women into the headlines, as we celebrate them every day.

On the weekend the Summer Olympic Games will come to an end. Many of the women who became household names this week will return home, some to train at school, or back to work or hug their kids. It is my hope that we keep the momentum going, to encourage our daughters to be their version of an Olympian. Maybe our girls will be baseball stars, or concert pianists or become a doctor or teacher or write an award-winning novel.

Or maybe win a gold medal at the Olympic games.  Or just compete at the Olympics. And I’ll be there to watch. Every time.

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Why I left Sports Media

My son often asks me why I left Sports Media. In the eyes of a child, the early part of my career was glamourous. I met, and sometimes worked alongside, world famous athletes. I had access to a press pass on occasion, to attend games. Part of my job, both in radio and TV, meant I HAD to watch sports. My son just cannot fathom how I would ever choose to leave that world. But I did. And I don’t regret it.

I also don’t regret the wonderful and unique opportunity that I had to work in the industry. What has stayed with me today aren’t the memories of athletes I met or games I attended. I learned life skills, how to hustle and was lucky to work with some talented people who I consider my friends to this day.

My choice to leave sports media is one that I haven’t really thought about too deeply for a long time. But over the past week, hundreds of great journalists lost their jobs, many of them in sports media. Earlier this evening, in particular, when I saw social media posts from former colleagues, writing of radio stations changing their formats and wiping out their employees, brought a memory back of when I was one of those people, many years ago. It was one of the reasons that eventually led me to leave my job on an assignment desk and follow the career path of a communications professional.

Where it Began

In my final semester of my Master’s Degree in Journalism at New York University I had to choose an internship in media in New York City. I still remember listening carefully to the guidance from my mentor, Professor Michael Ludlum. He was my Radio Broadcasting professor from my first semester, who brought me under his wing and taught me everything I had to know about working in radio. He encouraged me to pursue a different kind of internship, at ABC Sports Radio. It was a small operation, a kind of central intake hub of sports news, and he felt that it would give me skills that I could take anywhere.

Of course Professor Ludlum was right. I learned how to grab quick interviews for the radio format, edit my tape and write copy. And my first big assignment was to represent ABC Sports Radio one night, to collect sound bites, on the field, at the World Series (the Subway Series no less!). At that moment in time I thought sports media, radio in particular, was my future. I knew it was for me.

Where my Early Career was Shaped

When I decided to pursue my career back in Toronto after graduate school, it took me a few months to find that coveted job in sports media. My first “real” job was at the Team 1050 sports radio station. The guys took a chance on me, a young, very inexperienced journalist, but I was eager to learn and grow. My colleagues were genuine, wonderful people who had a love of sports and great talk radio that was infectious. I was excited to go to work every day. I produced everything, from shows that started at 10:00 pm on a Friday night (when I learned sports reporters in Texas cover high school football, not hockey) to the morning show. Sometimes I arrived at work at 3:00 am and sometimes I left at 3:00 am. It was everything I dreamed of.

Then 16 months later, one summer morning, the Team 1050 radio station disappeared. Just like that. All of the employees were brought together into a room and were laid off. I was devastated. In a short time I got the taste of what I wanted my career to be, and I wasn’t ready to walk away. I remember Paul Romanuk, who co-hosted the morning show, walked over to me that morning and said, “Alicia, you are not a true journalist until you have been fired at least once. Welcome to the club.”

When I made the Choice to Leave

I was one of the lucky ones, as I was hired by Rogers Sportsnet days later. It was an entry level job, but I took it. I had made some great friends in my days in radio, and one of them brought me over to TV. He knows who he is and I am forever grateful for his kindness. It took me only a couple of months to apply and get an opening on the Assignment desk. It was a different pace than radio, with different personalities, but again, some great people. This is where I really learned how to hustle and get the news on air.

The days were long, and during hockey playoffs I often worked until 4:00 am. Some days were exciting and full, and I felt the adrenaline running through me, but over time I became less motivated. I kind of lost my drive and desire to go to work. I knew I was good at my job and respected by my colleagues. I knew a career in sports media was unstable and while it never happened to me at Sportsnet, I continued to see colleagues within the industry losing their jobs every day. And I knew this problem would only deteriorate.

And so, I eventually left my job in sports media and pursued my career as a communications professional. There are many days when I miss the energy of the newsroom. When I read a piece of breaking news I can still picture what was happening at that exact moment at the assignment desk as the news came in. Who should they interview? What are some key questions to ask? What headline would be good?

No Regrets

While I may miss my days in radio or TV, I do not regret my decision to leave. I have met and worked for and alongside some equally talented and wonderful people during my years as a communications professional. In particular, I work for a company right now who respects me, as a professional and as a woman and parent. The skills I have learned along the way, from my Broadcast Radio class with Professor Ludlum, to producing the morning show at a radio station, are some that I use every day in my current job.

To all of you who chose to stay in sports media, who either lost your job recently or are currently employed, I applaud you. You are some amazing people, many of whom I had the honour to work with. Stay strong and follow your passion. That’s what I did, and I have never looked back.

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I’ve Lost My Son to Sunday Football

football

 

I am a sports fan. Anyone who knows me – family, friends, work colleagues, hey even social media acquaintances – understands that I really love sports. I am not a great athlete and definitely not a coach. But I love to watch sports, talk about sports and of course, write about sports. Baseball is my first love, but I’ll happily watch hockey, basketball, tennis, soccer, Olympic sports and much more. But not football. I will admit it: I don’t like football.

Early in my career, after a relatively short stint in radio, I had the opportunity to work in television. Rogers Sportsnet hired me to be a Broadcast Associate. That meant it was my job (that’s right sports fans, my JOB) to watch sports. Now I realize, many of you reading this are thinking… what? Where do I sign up? Let me explain.

Sportsnet didn’t hand me a bag of popcorn and a big screen TV and say, hey, Alicia, watch that MLB or NHL game. When you watch those recap reels on the news at night, someone had to build them. It was my job to watch an assigned game, note the time codes on important plays and suggest a group of clips for a producer to use so they could package it together. I had to know the sport, the players, the teams, so that viewers could see and understand exactly what happened during the game.

I wasn’t a happy person when I got the Sunday afternoon shift and was assigned an NFL game. Give me anything, I would tell my manager – even golf – but not football, please! I didn’t understand the sport and I didn’t want to. How could a team be “up” when they achieved a “down”? How could a 350-pound man be successful at anything athletic? What was tail gating?

The guys at work just laughed at me, and the more I complained, of course the more football they gave me. But they also taught me the rules of the game. And the intricate differences between the NFL and CFL (oh the arguments I caused on the floor when I asked the question… which is better, the CFL or NFL?).

I only lasted about 8 weeks as a Broadcast Associate, until I was promoted to the Assignment Desk, and thank goodness for that. Maybe they knew my skills were better used chasing down stories and getting the news on air than piecing together plays from Sunday football. No matter how much I learned about football, I couldn’t learn to like it.

Jump ahead a few years to today. I don’t work in sports television anymore (though I admit, there are many days when I really miss it!). I don’t get paid to watch the Cubs versus the Marlins, the Nuggets vs the Clippers, or (and I’m thankful for this), the Broncos vs the Chiefs (who are playing now as I write… with the play-by-play blaring on the TV a few feet away).

Which brings me to my headline: I’ve lost my son to Sunday Football. I’m proud to say that I instilled in my son a deep love of sports. I remember watching the NHL playoffs with him when he was an infant and being amazed how it calmed him down when he was fussy. He became a Blue Jays fan at a young age, and soon after that (despite my pleas not to do this) he joined Leafs Nation. Convincing him to follow basketball and love the Raptors was easy. He even watched tennis with me and every kind of Olympic sport, from speed skating and alpine skiing to track and field and diving.

But there was one sport he didn’t touch: football. Did I convince my son that football was not for us? Was I that influential on my child’s life that he too decided that Sunday afternoon in October was better spent raking the leaves or taking a long walk? For 12 years I could say yes. I joked on Monday mornings at work that I had managed to avoid the dreaded NFL Sunday TV in my house.

But then my bubble burst. My son joined a fantasy football league with a bunch of friends at school, and you see, he takes these seriously. He couldn’t just join – he had to actively participate. And to actively participate he had to watch the games. All the games. And read about the players. And the injuries. Of course also have long conversations with his buddies about how many points he got each weekend.

It’s Sunday afternoon and the TV is blaring beside me. Kansas City is at Denver. I have no idea what’s going on. A bunch of grown men are running up and down the field, intentionally bashing into each other. My son is yelling at the TV and clapping with delight. I’ve lost him. He loves football. I guess I can live with that. At least we will always have our shared first love: baseball. World Series game 5 tonight. I’ll happily watch that, anytime.

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Blame Sports for why the Blog has taken a Back Seat

sports

The Kinetic Motions blog is back. I travel around life and experience so much every day, and I am constantly taking notes so that I can write my next blog. Then I hit a deadline at work, a holiday sneaks up on me or a child suddenly has a runny nose. And the notes for my next blog get pushed to the side. If I grab a few free minutes I indulge in a show on Netflix, or lately, sports. During the month of April there is an abundance of riches of sports, if you are fan. I am a fan. Where do I begin?

If anyone asks me (and they often do!), what’s my favourite sport, it’s an easy answer: baseball. The reaction, if the person is also a sports fan, is usually, really? What? Why? Are you kidding? But the Blue Jays suck right now! I get a few high fives from the diehards, but living in hockey crazy Toronto, most people are not supportive.

April (well, really late March recently) is when baseball season really gets going. The playoffs start to heat up for hockey and basketball. If you are a golf fan (I will admit, I am not), the Masters are in April. You can even watch Major League Soccer this month.

Baseball

Okay, let’s get back to baseball, my first love. I will admit that I don’t remember going to my first game. My parents tell me that they took me to the odd game at the old Exhibition Stadium when I was little, but I have zero memories. My team, the Toronto Blue Jays, launched their first season in 1977, when I was a one-year-old, and I have seen a ton of TV coverage of those early years. I have a few faint memories of a game or two at Exhibition Place.

I think I became a fan at age 9, in 1985, during the Blue Jays’ first playoff run. And when a name of a Blue Jay great from the 1980’s is mentioned, like Dave Stieb or George Bell or Jimmy Key, my face lights up. Don’t even get my son started on my deep devotion to Kelly Gruber back then (yes, he wore #17).

I went to a game at the swanky new Skydomein June 1989, soon after it opened. I have no idea who the Jays played or who won the game but do remember that it started to lightly rain. All 50,000 other people, looked up to the sky to watch the domed roof turn and close. It was fascinating!

I have fond memories of dancing the polka around the cottage in October 1992 when the Jays won their first World Series. Joe Carter’s famous homerun to win it all again in 1993 is etched in my mind. Years later, side by side with my son in 2015, I watched the Jose Bautista bat flip.  It wasn’t hard to convince my sports-loving son to embrace my favourite sport

So what if the Blue Jays won’t make the playoffs this year (or probably next year), I still watch. I still buy tickets (or happily will take any ticket someone wants to give me!) and follow the sport. When we travel to Seattle next month (yep, tons of stuff to write while there!), Matthew and I are excited to go to a Mariners game. We are baseball fans.

Hockey

The most challenging part of my day today is to decide, do I watch the Jays wrap up their series vs Oakland (and try to sweep them) or watch my Carolina Hurricanes play game 2 vs the NY Islanders? For most people, this is a head shaker. It’s another chance to look at me and say, what? Are you kidding? The Hurricanes? Why? That’s random!

It’s not random. First of all, I love hockey. Maybe I am not exactly a super fan. I could go weeks during the regular season and never watch a game. I follow the season and keep up on the news. But I don’t settle into a hockey game like I do with baseball. But when the playoffs come, I’m on top of it.

My passion for the Carolina Hurricanes goes back to 2001, when I started my career as a journalist. I won’t rehash the story, as I wrote about it in a blog back in 2017. Have a READ. I promised my team that I would forever be a fan, no matter how terrible or incredible they played. My loyalty paid off when my Canes won the Stanley Cup in June 2006. And today, April 28th, 2019, they are on playoff run that is making everyone turn their heads.

Don’t laugh. I believe in them. This team has heart. They have grit. Okay, so maybe they are a “bunch of jerks,” as Don Cherry so kindly refers to them. But they are a fabulous bunch of jerks.

Basketball

I didn’t care much for basketball until a few years ago. I liked the Raptors, but I never had even a drop of patience to sit through a game. And then my son became a super fan. He is a walking encyclopedia of random basketball statistics and knows who every player is and where they play. He yells at the TV like the players and coaches can hear him and listen to him. Maybe he knows something I don’t.

Toronto is a hockey city first, baseball city second, and I believe, maybe a basketball city third. The Raptors don’t get the attention or respect this incredible team of 2018/19 deserves. The team is talented, focused and determined, and if they keep playing the way they did the last few games, they are unstoppable. Could they go all the way this year?

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Which brings me back to where I began. The blog is back, or at least I’m going to try. Following and watching sports the last few weeks has taken up probably too much of my free time. I love sports. But I also love to write. When I am walking down the street and something makes me chuckle, I want to write about it. For example, what’s with grown men giving the fist-pump and calling each other dude? Do I need to pay almost $100 for cable anymore? How many more drivers will make my blood boil over this week? My next trip is coming up. The Hurricanes are on their incredible playoff run. I want to write. I must write. So follow along and come for the ride. There will be much to read in the near future. I promise.

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Sports are to be watched in a Social Setting

social

I love to watch sports. And I like to read about my favourite athletes and look at the scores from the night before. But I don’t like to do it alone. For me, sports is something social and really much less enjoyable on my own. While my son, Matthew, is away at camp, the joy of sports is not there quite as much for me.

I don’t live in a house with big sports fans. How did a big sports fan like me find one of the few males in Canada who doesn’t just dislike sports but basically resents them? I think David enjoys some of the snacking associated with viewing big sporting events, but that’s where it ends. I remember at our wedding, my brother said in his speech that he could see far into the future. He thought of the day that the Jays were back in the World Series or a certain Toronto hockey team dared make the Stanley Cup finals. I would be sitting on the couch with the guys and David would provide us with great snacks!

My brother alluded to something key in his speech – sitting with a group enjoying the game. A social environment. It’s hard to watch baseball in the summer by myself. If I turn the Jays game on in the evening I feel the wrath of an angry toddler who gives me the evil eye and says one word to me, “Dora” She’s not interested in watching baseball with me.

But sports is not just about watching the game in a social setting. It’s also about talking about it, for hours or sometimes days. You need someone to discuss that great play or missed called strike. When Kevin Pillar makes one of his incredible “Superman” catches it’s not enough to see it on my TV from all angles. I have to share my thoughts with someone else.

There is a reason why Superbowl parties are so popular, and it’s not just because of the good food that is typically served. It’s about the social setting, of friends getting together to enjoy the event together. Even if you know nothing about football (how many downs was that?) you can’t help but be with the crowd and get excited by great plays. Your team may not have made the playoffs, but you have to watch that final game of the season with your best buddies.

So while the baseball season is in full swing and the soccer World Cup is about to reach its crescendo, I am feeling a bit of sports withdrawal. Is it sad that I’m a bit lonely? I’m not a bar or pub-loving type, so that’s out. But hey, there’s a reason why Toronto bars are packed in the morning lately as patrons catch a World Cup playoff match and of course want to do so in a social setting (or maybe they don’t have cable and it’s the only way to watch the game).

People come together over sports. Strangers stand side by side and cheer together for their team. Huge crowds packed Maple Leaf Square and Jurassic Park in downtown Toronto when the Leafs and Raptors were on their short playoff runs. Sports is inherently social, and I like it that way. How many more days until Matthew returns from camp?

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Listen to the Sounds of the Game

sounds

If you are a sports fan, May is a great time of year. There is a plethora of choices of sports to watch, read about, follow and discuss. If you want playoff action, there’s a hockey or basketball game every night. Baseball is in full swing. Soccer has come alive. There is a game on my TV every night, and I will admit, once in a while I fall asleep during the height of the action. A few nights ago, I watched a Toronto Raptors’ game with my eyes closed. I was too tired to watch, so instead I just listened. The sounds of the game fascinated me.

Have you ever closed your eyes and just listened to the game? And I mean really just sat down, relaxed and listened? The radio works, but I find the subtle and nuanced sounds the television cameras pick up are even more fascinating.

Basketball 

The Toronto Raptors play game 2 of their playoff series versus the Cleveland Cavaliers on Thursday evening. I won’t go into the letdown that was game 1 on Tuesday night. But I will share the audio highlights that I enjoyed from last night’s game. The sound I love most during a basketball game is how the athletes’ shoes travel across the freshly waxed and clean hardwood floor.  Some people may cringe, but it’s this sound that tells me that there’s a basketball game going on. Here is an example:

 

I also like the even tempo of the bouncing ball as a player races down the court. My son loves when a ball slides through the net with a perfect swish sound.

Hockey

A hockey game has very different sounds from a basketball game, even though they are often played in the same building. First of all, there’s no shoes or hardwood floor.  The sound of perfectly sharpened skates flying down the ice or suddenly stopping make me smile. Add a stick and puck to the mix and you get a beautiful melody of sounds. How about when the puck hits the crossbar or a player checks another into the boards? Just close your eyes and listen. It’s a wonder to the senses. Listen to the sound of the blades on the ice:

 

Baseball

The sounds of the ballpark. These are special. I went to a Blue Jays game last week, and at one point I closed my eyes so I could take in all the sounds around me. Even if you aren’t paying attention to the action on the field, there’s nothing like the concession vendors who run up and down the aisles yelling, “Beer here, ice cold beer” or “Popcorn, peanuts and Crackerjacks!” On the field there’s the sound of the bat as it makes contact with the ball or the sound of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt when the player swings and misses. And the umpires. Some of them articulate the word “strike” so well that you can hear it for miles.

Just listen to the crack of the bat and cheers of the crowd in this example. You know it’s a baseball game in an instant.

 

Other Sports

No matter the sport, each brings its own unique sounds. The grunt of the athlete and ball hitting the racquet in tennis. The calls of the quarterback in football. Oh, how I love the sound I hear when skis turn on the snow. How about the swing of the golf club and the sound when it hits the ball?

What are you favourite sports sounds? Post a comment here or on Facebook or Tweet me @AliciaRichler.

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Baseball is Back

baseball

I know what you are thinking – didn’t the Major-League baseball season begin a few weeks ago? Midway through April, haven’t most teams played at least a dozen games? The short answer is, yes. The 2018 season opened on Thursday, March 29, and I was lucky enough to watch it live with my good friend Meir (a super-fan) in Israel.

But, I was so far away from where the action happens. After I watched opening day (at 11:00 at night, semi-conscious), it seemed as though the baseball season really launched without me. If I wasn’t there to watch the games on TV or go to a game with my son, it was as though the season hadn’t really begun.

We arrived home from our whirlwind trip on Thursday, and my team, the Toronto Blue Jays, had an off day. I was so jet lagged on Friday that I slept through the game. I was ready, both mentally and physically, to watch the Jays play Cleveland on Saturday afternoon. Rain got in the way. Same on Sunday. Then a chunk of ice had to smash through the roof of the Rogers Centre in Toronto on Monday. Another game postponed.

Finally, on Tuesday, baseball came back to my life. A double-header. A double-whammy. My dream, hours and hours of baseball, all afternoon and evening. It was a slow start to the first game, but then the boys woke up and started to whack the ball in every direction. 11-3 final score. No complaints here. I continued on, to watch game 2, which the Jays won in the bottom of the 10th. I was on pins and needles, but it was a great ending, thanks to Luke Maile. 

Many people complain that baseball is too slow. It is definitely not the sport of choice for people who like fast-paced action-packed sports. It’s one of the few sports (maybe golf too) where you get a mix of athletes who are in the best of shape and others who are overweight and out-of-shape.

You get to know the life story of the commentators as they share their tales between pitches.  With an average length of just over 3 hours, watching a complete baseball game is a commitment.

And I love it. I love every minute of it.  I don’t care how slow it moves, that some of the players can barely jog to first base or that a blister puts a guy on the disabled list for ten days. Baseball has personality.

Here are some of the things that I love about baseball, in no particular order:

  • A team can score up to four points (okay, runs) with one swing of the bat.
  • The manager (known in almost every other sport as the head coach) wears a uniform, just like the players, who are half his age. Even the players who are out of shape look better in the uniform, but kudos to him for putting it on each night.
  • That I can get a ticket, in a decent seat, for under $30. I may spend more than that on snacks when I’m there, but that’s my choice.
  • Even during and after an ice storm, it feels like summer when I’m watching a game.
  • That I can write while I watch the game, or make dinner, or carry on a full conversation with the person next to me, because the action is slow enough.
  • Endless statistics. How many players have hit a home run, during a home game, with a player on second base and two outs? Baseball has an answer for that.
  • Great catches. Great, diving catches (thanks in large part to Kevin Pillar!).
  • Players jump on each other, like they just won the World Series, when they win in extra innings.

Did I mention that I am thrilled that baseball is back? And because it’s only April, I have months ahead to enjoy it. Whether my team wins or loses (okay, I always want the Jays to win), I will always be a fan of baseball.

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