Author: In Write Field

How Many Games To Skin The Cats?

On By In Write FieldIn Baseball, Sports PhotographyLeave a comment

This year’s Giants have the knack

They win… from two or three games back

They pitch with grit and take their hacks

Delighting fans of orange and black.

Opponent one: The dreaded Reds

San Francisco’s bats looked dead

Fans’ hopes were hanging by a thread

But…lose?  No way!  They won instead.

Next up: Matt Holliday and the Cards

Three straight losses left them jarred

But doubters they paid no regard

And won game seven in our yard.

Now they are World Series bound

With game one played right here in town

Barry Zito’s on the mound

Skin the cats, they’ll get the crown.

Let’s go Giants!

Two Men, One Moderator and a Stopwatch… I’m All Atwitter.

On By In Write FieldIn Politics1 Comment
http://bindersfullofwomen.tumblr.com

The Presidential debate: I dare to blog about it, even though it’s only been 24 hours since it occurred and it’s already been beaten to death.

One of the best, rhetorical questions spawned by Tuesday’s debate came from Joe Posnanski.  “How can people who are still undecided by this election decide who won a debate?”  In other words, if you are partisan (like most of us) you probably think your guy won.  But if you are still one of the inexplicably undecided, I suspect at this point you just hate both candidates equally.

It’s true, unless Barack Obama suffers some sort of cataclysmic neurological event on stage, and goes all Madness-Of-King-George on us, I’m voting for him.  So when I watch the debates, it’s really for two reasons:

First, it’s above-average people watching.  I am always amazed by how silly grown men — and sometimes women — can be in the political arena when egg timers (and network audiences) are involved.  It makes me squirm.  It’s a car crash, but I can’t look away.

I have a few tips for the candidates based on my observations, free of charge:

  • Do not whine about how you got only 5 minutes to “answer” the question about gun control – albeit with random arguments about higher education – but your opponent got 6.5 minutes.  It is unseemly, and no matter how solid your argument may seem to someone with a stopwatch… you wind up sounding like a 6-year-old waiting his turn to play Angry Birds on the family iPad.
  • Ditto on pouting because you believe you are due a chance to respond to your opponent, but the moderator says it’s time for a new topic.   It’s impossible to avoid sounding like a preschooler screaming “Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!”.
  • Do not be rude to the moderator, especially if she is female…. and most especially if you are courting women voters.  (And let’s face it, why wouldn’t you be courting us, because we are awesome!)  As a strategy, it’s just plain flawed.
  • If you made a huge gaffe in the past few weeks — say you hypothetically, callously accused nearly 50% of Americans of being dirtbag blood-sucking leeches, and that was a haymaker for your opponent — you may not want to make unsolicited claims of support for “100%” of the population.  For those of us not thinking about your gaffe just then… well, you just said the word “percent”, so we’re thinking about it now.

I also love these debates for the jokes on Twitter.

If you are an active tweeter you generally fall into one of four groups:

  • Bitter bigots who are unable to correctly spell their, there or they’re.  In rare cases when these folks penetrate the defensive moat around my carefully cultivated twitter community… there’s an I-will-block-you function and I’m not afraid to use it.
  • Very, very funny comedians, pundits, and bloggers.
  • “Personalities” who are the objects of ridicule of these comedians, pundits and bloggers.  (Think, Donald Trump.)
  • Anonymous Dilbert types whose comedic talents are wasted in the desolation of cubeville.  They love Twitter because the jokes are funny, and mostly true, and once in a while they crack a few good ones of their own.

I’ll leave it to you to decide where I fit.

You’ll find lots of “best debate tweets” out there today.  Here are a few of mine….

I’ve Got Friends In High Places

On By In Write FieldIn Random StuffLeave a comment
My Dad in his navy days
Hey Dad, you’re in the Navy now…

I did my fair share of complaining this weekend, what with an overwhelming tourist invasion and the Giants’ losses to the Cincinnati Reds.  But truth be told, it was a great weekend in San Francisco… largely because it was Fleet Week.

I love Fleet Week.  LOVE IT.  I adore the sailors, who walk around this beautiful city every October with wide-eyed awe and excitement.  But, when did these guys get so… young?

My beloved Dad joined the Navy after high school, with his eyes on the GI Bill prize like so many young men in his day.  That’s another reason I’m a softy for Fleet Week guys in uniform.

Most importantly, Fleet Week means the Blue Angels.  And what’s NOT to love about the Blue Angels?  I challenge anyone on earth to watch these artists perform, without gasping and smiling, and mumbling “that’s unbelievable” at least twice.

I suspect the Blue Angels kind of like me too.  After all, they buzz my building in Russian Hill every year.  That has to count for something, right?

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The Width and Breath

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Me at Game 2, NLDS
The key to surviving the NLDS Game 2 (Giants vs. Reds) was to take shallow breaths. Waving a rally towel? That was out of the question, thanks to the width of the gentlemen on either side…

Weekend On The Rocks, Part I

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George Kontos
George Kontos

It was a Big Weekend in San Francisco.  Some might say, it was the Bermuda Triangle of weekends, as more than one million visitors paid a visit to our fine city to take in sporting events (San Francisco Giants and 49ers, the America’s Cup), the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, and Fleet Week.

For the first time I can recall, I’m actually thrilled that tomorrow is Monday.  All these people will have gone home by then, right?

The most vexing parts of my weekend were two packed and plodding Muni bus rides to AT&T Park, followed by two miserable performances by the Giants.  For now I will focus on Saturday’s game, because quite honestly… I am too depressed to process tonight’s loss, let alone write about it.

I had planned to watch game one of the NLDS from my couch, but an amazing seat near the visitor’s dugout popped up on StubHub. It was out of my price range, but I decided to stalk it for a while.  As game time approached, the price dropped precipitously.  Forty-five minutes before Matt Cain’s first pitch, I made my move.

When I got to the park in the bottom of the 2nd inning (thanks again, Muni), the previous owner of the ticket was sitting next to me.  He immediately pointed out what a great deal I’d gotten.  He paid more than twice what he got from me.  Awkward!

The guy was pretty nice, all things considered.  I nearly bought him a beer, since I figured he was feeling a little light in the wallet, but by the 3rd inning it seemed like he’d already had plenty.

I wish I had a slew of photos of great Giants at-bats and base running, but alas I’m a photographer not an abstract artist.  Or a magician.

Blech.

11/22/63: It’s About Time

On By In Write FieldIn Books, Page and Screen1 Comment

11-22-63 coverI put off tackling Stephen King’s 11/22/63 for almost a year, because – let’s face it — it’s a tome.  What’s more, I bought it in hardback while browsing through Books Inc., presumably in some kind of vulnerable, hypnotic state.  That’s right, I bought an 842-page hardback.  Thankfully, I wo-manned up recently and read it, because it’s a fascinating, absorbing book.

(An ancillary benefit: Since it weighs as much as a small dumbbell, I was able to tone my biceps just by lugging it around.)

I’m not a Stephen King enthusiast, despite my conviction that The Shining is one of the best, scariest novels of its genre.  But 11/22/63 is not a horror story; it’s a suspenseful tale of time travel, with some history and romance thrown in.  Never a sci-fi fan, I was nonetheless drawn in as Jake (the hero of our story) travels back in time, to the era of southern segregation, black and white console televisions, and the Cold War.

There are no flying cars or alien overlords in this story.

Jake makes several trips to the Land of Ago, as he calls 1958 – 1963, hoping to prevent specific acts of violence that devastated individuals, families and in one case an entire nation.  But he discovers that the past is obdurate (a $10 word that I’ve discovered means stubborn), and changing fate does not come easy, or cheap.

It’s a novel packed with thrills and plot twists.  It’s also thought-provoking, as Jake unwittingly tests the theory of the “butterfly effect” – the concept that seemingly insignificant, well-meaning actions can have profound, unintended ripple effects.

Midway through 11/22/63, I was reminded of a popular 1990’s television series, Early Edition.  In it, Kyle Chandler’s character gets “tomorrow’s news today”, in the form of an advance copy of the following day’s Chicago Sun-Times.  Rather than use the magical newspaper for personal gain – betting on sports or buying lotto tickets – he rushes around Chicago each day, thwarting the occasional crime and preventing accidents.

If he reads that careless piano movers will drop a Steinway on an unsuspecting pedestrian out walking on tomorrow’s lunch hour, Kyle will be there just in time to push the guy out of the way.  It’s pretty harmless stuff, because Kyle is essentially traveling forward in time… and by only one day.  There is no way to see downstream, to the long-term impacts of his heroics.  He can’t see the butterfly effect, if there is one.

But imagine that you could travel back 60 years or so in time, and hang out in that Time of Ago.  You would make friends, forge relationships, buy and sell things, and touch lives in ways large and small.  Now suppose you decided to change the fate of someone you care about.  Maybe save the life of your grandfather who was killed in Korea.  His children wouldn’t lose their father, and your grandmother would never become a widow.

But could you be certain that if he were spared, he and his family would live a long and healthy life?   What if he returned from the war a changed man, and his marriage to your grandmother ultimately failed?

What about the man your grandma would have married, after your grandfather’s death in the war?  How would his life be changed?  What kind of hole would be left in the world, because the children he would have had with your grandmother were never born?

You couldn’t be sure, because of the butterfly effect.

11/22/63.  It’s not a sitcom.  It’s a really long book, and it will leave you thinking about fate, and destiny, and butterflies long after you reach page 842.

Did anyone else love this book, as much as I did?

On Saturday Night, SF Giants Were One and Done

On By In Write FieldIn Baseball, Sports PhotographyLeave a comment
Celebration!
Celebration!

The San Francisco media began its “magic number” countdown about a week ago — the magic number being the number of wins required to clinch a playoff spot, regardless how well/poorly the runner-up team (i.e. the LA Dodgers) performs.  By Thursday morning, the San Francisco Giants’ magic number was five.

Because I had tickets to both Saturday’s and Sunday’s games against the San Diego Padres, I did more math than is advisable for a history major, trying to pinpoint the likelihood I’d be at AT&T Park to see the Giants win the National League West.  It’s not really about statistical probability, of course.  Barring some kind of Red Sox-style collapse, it was only a matter of time before they clinched.  But how MUCH time would depend on how much torture the baseball gods chose to inflict.

The gods were merciful, and the Giants beat the Padres handily on Saturday night to win the division.  Nervous energy hung in the air like the Bay Area marine layer, but the team played like vets who had been there before.  No torture necessary.

When Angel Pagan caught Mark Kotsay’s pop up to end the game, the place went insane.  It’s hard to describe the electricity and elation in such an enormous venue, where everyone is pulling for the same thing (or, “on the same rope” as Zen master/GM Brian Sabean likes to say). Everywhere you looked, fans were smiling, high-fiving and hugging, and no one was rushing for the exits to beat the traffic.  I stuck around until Giants’ president and CEO Larry Baer got hold of the microphone, and began his shameless plug for playoff merchandise.

The fact that starters – including my particular favorite, Tim Lincecum – didn’t play on Sunday was a bit of a disappointment, although no one could begrudge them their day off.  It gave the rookies some valuable playing time.  It also allowed people like me, who have been laser-focused on the playoffs, to just relax in the stellar weather, unclench our jaws, put down our cameras…. and enjoy the game.

 

And Then, There Were Three…

On By In Write FieldIn Baseball, Sports PhotographyLeave a comment
Pablo's three-run homer
Pablo’s three-run homer

Regular season baseball is winding down. If your team is out of contention, like the Cleveland Indians are, attendance is tapering off. My parents were at Progressive Field today, and the place was at least 2/3 empty. That makes me sad because Cleveland is such a great sports-loving town. Maybe next year will finally be the Tribe’s year.

Meanwhile on the west coast, the San Francisco Giants are three wins away from capturing the NL West. That is, three strikes and the Dodgers are OOUUUUT!

The magic number is particularly important to me. I have tickets to both Saturday’s and Sunday’s games against the San Diego Padres, and I want to be at AT&T Park to see the Giants clinch the division. The math has gotten ridiculously simple — the odds of at least attending a game where clinching is a possibility are clearly in my favor.

Pray for me?

I went to the game on Wednesday night. Matt Cain may not have been perfect, but he was awesome. In fact, thanks to my unwavering confidence in Matty and the Giants’ six-run lead, I headed home after the 7th inning stretch (my first early departure of 2012) to thaw out my extremities. It was the coldest game I’ve been to all season.

 

Cowboy Up!

On By In Write FieldIn Random Stuff, Sports PhotographyLeave a comment

I spent last weekend in one of my favorite Northern California getaways, Mendocino. Approximately four hours north of San Francisco, this coastal town is heaven for anyone who really wants to escape the Bay Area rat race.  Its buildings and sidewalks harken back to the gold rush era, although it’s really an old logging town.  Mendocino was founded in 1850, and has a population of just over 800.

There are many inns in Mendocino.  My new B&B-of-choice is the Joshua Grindle Inn.  The rooms are spotless, the breakfasts are delicious and healthy, and the owners are low-key hospitable.  You can also get an amazing massage on site from Glenna Hunter, better known as Ms. Magic Hands.  (I think I am the only one who calls her that, but the name fits.)

My two-cents:  Avoid staying at higher-profile spots like McCallum House or the Mendocino Hotel.  They are OK – very pretty old buildings — but a little too self-congratulatory and a LOT too expensive.  The Mendocino Hotel in particular has only so-so food, and spotty service in the lobby bar.

The smaller inns flat-out try harder — particularly with today’s economy.

Wireless reception in the Mendocino area is mercifully sporadic, and chances are you won’t have a TV in your room.  Each night I followed the Giants on my alarm clock radio, and then grabbed dinner at one of the great restaurants in the town.

Unfortunately, it was the foggiest weekend I’ve experienced in Mendocino, so I don’t think my photos do it justice.  Still….

I didn’t go to Mendocino JUST for relaxation.  My mini vacation was timed to coincide with the 85thAnnual Mendocino County Fair & Apple Show.  While there, I ate a hot dog on a stick and drank apple cider, and admired adorable kids in cowboy boots.  I petted many sheep and goats, and a couple of cows.  I also experienced my first rodeo.  The California Cowboys Professional Rodeo Association (or, CCPRA) Finals, to be precise.

As I took photos, my fellow spectators naturally assumed I was a rodeo buff.  This made me enormously proud, although I eventually had to confess that I had no idea how any of it worked.

The cowboys were handsome and rugged, but the truth was… I was always quietly pulling for the calves.  After dodging the lasso, they would dart around the arena until someone managed to drag them back to the pen. Those calves always looked a little smug, frankly.

My photos are pretty amazing — not because of my photographic talents but because rodeo is an intense and violent sport.  Pay special attention to the horses.  I think it’s safe to say, they don’t want to be broken.

… and ouch

A Win-Win Weekend For The San Francisco Giants

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Buster Posey

It was a great weekend for San Francisco Giants baseball.  We didn’t sweep the L.A. Dodgers, but we took the series putting us 5 1/2 games out in front in the National League West.  Toward the end of Sunday’s shut-out, one of ESPN’s announcers speculated that the Dodgers now probably have a better shot at capturing a wild card spot than of winning the NL West.  Music to my ears.

I caught the first game of the series, going back on my solemn promise never to attend another Friday night Giants/Dodgers match-up, after several near-death experiences in past seasons.  I even sat near the visitor’s dugout, and while the inmates were restless… I survived without ever throwing a punch.

Four hecklers behind me were tossed pretty early on.  They were annoying, because two were Giants fans and two were Dodgers fans.  So it was nonstop screaming no matter which team was at bat.  These guys were particularly fond of the F-bomb — but apparently the police officers positioned nearby were not.

As I was leaving AT&T Park after the Giants’ 5-2 victory, the gentleman next to me summed it up nicely.  “WOW, what a game!  I have a feeling every game will be a dog fight like this one from here on out.”

I say, bring it!

I ended the night with more than 1,500 shots.  Here are some of the best, if I do say so myself.  Next up for me and my Canon… September 17 vs. the Colorado Rockies.

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