Olympic Inspiration

If you're going to pick a sports figure to be a hero,
make it Hamadou Djibo Issaka of Niger.

I used to think my dreams of being an Olympic athlete were over.  Other than my lack of world class skill or speed in a specific discipline as well as the needed time to devote to acquiring the skill or speed that would land me on the Olympic team, I have everything it takes to be an Olympian. But that was before I saw Hamadou Djibo Issaka of Niger.

First, some quick facts about Niger. It's a landlocked country in western Africa that ranks 186th out of 187 countries in the United Nations Human Development Index. I don't know what that means, exactly, but I know it's not good. They have one Olympic medal in the country's history. (Any guesses?) It was a bronze in boxing in 1972 (good guess.)

Niger has competed in 10 Olympic games beginning in 1964. However, I couldn't tell you what they wore during the opening ceremonies, who carried their flag in the parade of nations or if NBC even bothered to show them when they walked in. In fact, before last week, the most I knew about Niger is that my friend who teaches social studies in middle school is always extremely careful in who he calls on to read in class when Niger is involved.

Now this may come as a surprise to you, as it did to me, but Niger doesn't exactly have a glorious rowing history. That is to say, they have no rowing history. The country is roughly 80 percent desert and there aren't a lot of large bodies of water available to practice rowing. 

This is where Issaka comes in. Issaka is a former swimmer turned rower. And by "turned rower," I mean first set foot in a boat last November. He immediately overturned it. 

But Issaka didn't let a little thing like having to train in a wooden fishing boat because there wasn't a scull (competition boat) in his country deter him from becoming an Olympian. Granted an Olympic spot under a program from the International Olympic Committee that ensure each country can be represented, he set his mind to rowing in the Olympics. 

I happened to be watching when his heat came on and I figured I could devote a few minutes to a sport I won't care about for another four years. After all, if I can't get in to rowing in the Olympics, when can I? 

The gun fired and all the other competitors took off like they'd been training for more than three months. Issaka, meanwhile, took off like a man who first set foot in a scull a week before the race, because that's exactly what he was. He would later say he was just happy he didn't tip the boat over while waiting for the race to start. 

I was captivated by this African man who started slow and got progressively slower and slower. But he rowed.

And rowed.

And rowed.

Cutting his way through Dorney Lake in Great Britain Issaka was well out of the screen after 30 seconds. But he kept rowing.

And rowing.

And rowing.

The leaders all finished the race and Issaka kept rowing. For more than two minutes after everyone else had completed the race, Issaka kept rowing. And as he was, the crowd showered him with cheers and applause for his efforts.

He had no dreams of winning a medal, or even winning a heat. But he pressed on, serving as an inspiration for millions around the globe who believe they, too, given the chance just want to compete for their country. 

Issaka has already said he’s focused on improving his time for the 2016 games in Rio. And Niger has acquired four sculls and some oars to allow for more than a week of training.

Four years ago, I’d likely have spent this entire post making fun of Issaka, ridiculing him for attempting as ridiculous as trying to compete in the Olympics in a sport you just took up three months ago. 

Today, I’m an admirier and a fan of Issaka. He, more than anyone else I’ve seen at this year’s games, have reminded me that winning is defined in many ways. Issaka may not have won a medal, or a heat or even finished before any other competitor. But just by starting, he won. 

Good times, Bad times

I go to the water park. A lot.

As in I recognize the lifeguards there.

And not just the pretty ones, but even some of the guys.

I'm there so much because as a stay-at-home dad with a three-year old, there's really not a better way to kill  spend some time with my son unless I want to be trapped in the house. Something about it being 90+ degrees with 90+ humidity makes me want to avoid the outside unless there is large amounts of water involved.

But today, with my wife and son out of town, I went to the water park by myself. Granted, there isn't a lot there for a guy in his mid early-30s, but people watching and a good book make an excellent way to pass the time.

I made my way to the kids area since that's where I'd be most likely to see any friends of mine, picked out an empty chair and proceeded to read.

Every now and again, I'd look up and while the people were different, the scene was the same. Parents laughing and playing with their kids.

Pure joy. (Not the dish washing detergent, the other kind.)

It got to the point I started watching the parents playing with their kids more than I spent reading.  It's rare, for me anyway, to see so much unbridled joy.

Then I came home to find out one of the Cubs' two best pitchers (who we need healthy so we can trade him) was injured.

Smoke on the Water

For an early Father's Day present, my wife and mom got the family season passes to the local water park. Being a stay-at-home dad, trophy husband, I was thrilled as it's not easy to come up with activities for a three-year old that typically have to be inside because I don't feel like spending large amounts of time in the 95+ degree heat we'll have from Monday until late September.

So last weekend, Yes Dear, the little guy and myself all went to the water park where we spent a lot of time trying to convince the little guy to do down the kiddie slides. Eventually I convinced Yes Dear to let me go on one of the adult slides a few times.

Getting to the top of the stairs to wait my turn, I look to the back corner of the park and see what is probably the saddest place on earth. Maybe not literally, I mean it is a water park after all. But I saw a sad place.

Standing in the corner on what can only be described as "well manicured grass" were about 8-10 adults ostracized to the farthest reaches of the park. Smoking cigarettes. I don't smoke. Never have. Never saw the appeal. Therefore, I can't really speak to the power of nicotine addiction. But it's sad to me that someone would be so dependent on a substance they'd willing stand out in the hot sun sweating buckets just to fix.

Second Chances

Rich Thompson was a pinch runner for the Tampa Bay Rays on Wednesday night. This, in and of itself, isn’t exactly noteworthy. Pinch runners are a fairly routine aspect of baseball. The manager decides he needs someone fast on the bases, so he sends someone in to replace the guy on base.

Making it somewhat noteworthy is that Thompson was making his season debut for the Rays. Again, this is fairly common as players are called up from the minor leagues all the time to replace an injured player or to fill in for a struggling veteran. So making your season debut in the middle of May isn’t really anything to write home about.

Unless you’re Thompson.

Thompson last played in the major leagues in 2004. He had exactly one at-bat during his time in the Big Leagues. It wasn’t exactly the stuff legends are made of. He grounded into a double play off a guy who normally plays catcher but was pitching because the game was a blow out. For the next eight years, he toiled in the minor leagues riding buses from Lehigh Valley to Indianapolis, playing with prospects who would go on to play on the biggest stage or alongside aging veterans who were trying to hang on for one last shot in the Majors.

Thompson was fortunate (due, in large part, to his willingness to keep playing when others would have quit long ago.) He got a second shot. The same could not be said for Adam Greenberg.

When I first heard of Thompson’s story, I immediately thought of Greenberg. He was a 9^th round selection of the Cubs in 2002 from UNC-Chapel Hill who made his major league debut on July 9, 2005 against the Florida Marlins. In the 9^th inning, Greenberg was substituted in as a pinch hitter and to make his major league debut.

Years of playing catch in the back yard, batting cages, little league games, high school, college and three years in the minor leagues and finally, Greenberg had reached the pinnacle of his profession as a major league baseball player.  

It didn’t last long.

On the first pitch he saw, he was struck in the head by a 92 mile per hour fastball resulting in a concussion. He was removed from the game and sent back to the minor leagues to rehab. Sadly for Greenberg,  the effects of the concussion were so bad that he had to sleep sitting up and would get dizzy just bending down to tie his shoe.  He was released by the Cubs a year later and was signed and then released by the Dodgers, Royals, and Angels. He never again played a Major League game.

Greenberg is one of only two players in baseball history to be hit by a pitch in his only major league plate appearance and never take the field. (Fred Van Dusen of the 1955 Phillies was the other, but I wasn’t watching that game, so I’m not writing about him.) Every now and again, especially when I hear a story like Thompson’s, I wonder what happened to Greenberg. Maybe when they remake “Field of Dreams” in 75 years, they’ll replace Moonlight Graham with Adam Greenberg. 

I didn't get to cheer for Greenberg long. Hopefully I'll get to cheer for Thompson a bit longer.

I'm Never Doing Cat Fancy Again

After an exhaustive analysis that included linguists, animal specialists, propaganda experts and even that guy from "Lie to Me" who could read facial expressions to determine if you're lying, researchers have determined that the editors of the "Meow Mix" brand cat food commercials have been making up the words the cats in the commercials were saying in a blatant attempt to manipulate viewers into purchasing their product. Now, for the first time anywhere, we (well, me) here at Expecting the Spanish Inquisition are revealing the truth about what the cats have been saying.

"People of Earth, we are being held here against our will to produce this bit of propaganda for the so-called 'meow mix' cat food. The truth is we don't really like this stuff. In fact, that 'Fancy Feast' stuff is really good, so if you could get some of that for us next time you're out, that'd be awesome. 

"Also, while we have your attention, a few things we should mention. We don't always land on our feet, so if you could get your 12-year olds to stop testing that theory, we'd appreciate it. We know you're mocking us with the laser pointers, but we don't care, they're fun. 

"We've spoken to Tom. He and Jerry actually get along great and just did all that stuff to see how easily your children could be amused. It doesn't take that much. Your adults also seem easily amused as that damn musical about us just won't die. And really, does your 'Tube of You' or whatever you call it need to be populated with so many videos of us?

"Finally, if you could send in Cat Team 6 to come save us, that'd be really cool."

Reached for comment, the people behind the Meow Mix advertising campaign said "If you think that's bad, you should see what we do with those talking babies in the ETrade commercials."

*The title for this blog came from one of my favorite ESPN commercials. My brother and I still occasionally still make references to it.