From The Sublime To The Ridiculous To The Sublime To The Ridiculous Again

I love sports, playing, watching, coaching, discussing, reviewing memorable moments. I have had a lot of all of that over the past two weeks. I wont go into the details but will focus on what I can take from it all as a viewer and someone who cares about how sports and sportsmen and women develop and comport themselves.

The Sublime: Jamaica's Usain Bolt winning the double 100/200 metres at the World Championships, and doing it again with new world records; the Jamaican team did the expected and won the 4x100 metres relay, helped by the Americans' repeated failure to understand that the baton is part of the race.

The Ridiculous: The furore over South African runner, Caster Semenya's sexual make up (see Times report). Yes, it matters if she is more part man if she is entered against athletes who are supposed to be all woman. But, you have to reflect on the timing and tastefulness with which officialdom dealt with this. Some friends of mine say it's good that intersex will rule and somehow think that ah hermaphrodite can compete well with men. No way. He/she may have more ability than an average/excellent woman but will still be less than an excellent/average man. If this goes on, and we know that the body has its own natural balance, we may need to develop a 3rd category for sports. Any takers for 'undecided'?

The Sublime: I thought I had seen all of the great things that Switzerland's Roger Federer could do on a tennis court. That was until I say 'the shot' last night. Watch the video and let the action speak for itself.



He has made some other stunning shots but to do this to get 'break point' in a semi final is like a dream for a player. It takes lots of practice to do trick shots well and the luck is having the chance to play them at crucial moments.

The Ridiculous: This has to be the Serena moment of lack of serenity in the women's semi-finals at the US Open. I have only seen the replays of how the younger Williams sister melted down. People say a lot about the brashness of this American athlete, who is more 'in your face' than most. She's called other players out for 'cheating' and reminded them that she is from Compton. No excuses for her losing her cool, except that a key call by an official at a key point in a match is not trivial. When the player is convinced that the call is wrong then sense goes: replays show that Serena was right and the official wrong. But, so much was mishandled at the time and I wonder whether it would have been too much for the chair umpire to have used her microphone to issue a verbal warning so that the player would stop and think. Things happened slowly enough for a lot of preventative actions. I hope that after this incident, replay will be used for foot faults, which are bizarre;y defined and also odd as the only call in tennis that is left to one official and is not able to be overturned by the chair umpire. (see the video). If you want to see how the matter could have deteriorated look back at the infamous night match between Ilie Nastase and John McEnroe: McEnroe is the one not saying anything.

The Sublime: Barbados' Ryan Brathwaite winning the men's 110 metres hurdles final in Berlin, in a national record. He created history as the country first gold medallist in a major international meet.

The Ridiculous: The inability of the Barbadian delegation to react to the fact that he had the fastest semi-final time; he had a new national record in the semis; and the reigning Olympic champion Dayron Robles had fallen in his semi and was out. So they had a few hours to organize themselves to be at the finish line to hail at least an expected medalist. But, no. They camped out in their box near the 200 meter start and when the boy won they did not have a soul nearby to cheer him or give him the now obligatory flag for display. Way to stand up for the nation! When he reached near their nest out came a flag (I wont say from where it came as that too is embarrassing). Now, the boy is being lauded and there will be ticker tape style welcome for him on Thursday. Ask any Bajan if they had heard of Ryan Brathwaite before the competition and I will be all that I have you get more 'no' than 'yes'. Remember that this country's TV company did not see fit to buy the rights to show the championship. But if you do not understand how it is that a country does not produce many great athletes just look at how the administrators maladminster at all levels. Any one want to make a comment about Jamaica? Tek weh yu self!

New York Lays Back: It's The Weekend

Something about New York City is very different during the weekend, and especially on a Sunday. It may be that all the hustle has to slow down sometime. It may be that with few corporate businesses open, those who live in the suburbs are just happy to be there and those who have no need to be on the street are indoors. Shoppers are out in force and in the areas where bargains may be had the keen are keener. But, those who venture out do so with a much more relaxed air. More tolerance seems apparent. People are in sweat pants, shorts, T shirts, sandals, and other summer leisure wear, not with their wing tips and high heels. They head to Central Park or to another park nearby to laze and watch others laze, or to take exercise and watch others play sport.

People--and they are of all ages--also are out eating and that is really a good part of a weekend's activity: brunch and the New York Times are a wonderful combination. If you love Jewish deli food or Chinese dim sum, the weekend, especially Sunday is the time to get your eat on. I had the joy of doing both. I went to the famed Katz's Deli, near Soho--jammed tables and long lines do not put you off. I also went to Jung Fong, in Chinatown, which looks like a huge banqueting hall but is dim sum paradise: congee, steamed dumplings, barbequed chicken feet, etc.

Sports fans can also put their supports on. I found a great bar that made watching football like standing on the terraces in England. Mad, yelling men peering at several screens as one or other English Premier League match was played, or this weekend, World Cup qualifying matches. Americans have truly taken to football--though they are hard pressed to call it that rather than 'soccer'. But love it they do, and with the Latin American and European influences in NYC, the football fever is high. "United!" or "C'mon Chelsea!" are belted out in accents ranging from pure English (Lancastrian or Cockney) through nasal New York or East coast drawl. But, it does not stop there. Those who love the French versions--many are from west Africa--or the Italian variants, are also there waiting their turn. The street is packed with those waiting to get in. On match day you could spend more than 12 hours in a bar watching the round leather ball being biffed all over the place. Magic!

I took the time to head over to Brooklyn, not to sample Caribbean food. I mean, why leave the Caribbean for that? But to enjoy the new energy that is filling some of the nearby neighbourhoods, as Yuppies look to get a little more air and space for the dollars they have to spend. Some of the neighbourhoods have the Lower East Side feel but with a lot more weirdness going on. You may have to ignore the transvestites, and the body piercings and the coloured hair and the same sex couples. This is New York, not Bridgetown. Some new and funky eateries have opened up and if it's Japanese,my stepdaughter is bound to have tried it, and so would we. I love to try all those things with fish and seaweed. I like to have dishes of hot sticky rice with eel and vegetables. Don't you?

The younger ones still have energy after 9pm to head off to a club or to go bowling. The older, and wiser, ones take their cue to head back toward homestead, knowing that the night session of tennis is just getting into full swing. Who's on tonight? Whoever it is they will have to excuse me while I don my jimmy jams and curl up on the sofa. Roger in his tuxedo-like Nike outfit does look sharp. Sharapova, pendant earrings dangling, looking like her tennis wear could do at a night club. Serena looking like the belle of any ball with sparkles and huge earrings. They all look ready to start the night shift. I've done my part and the day is well done. Well done me.

It's All About The Hype, Baby.

The US Open tennis tournament is a huge market fun fair, and shows America at its best in that sense. Many things have remained the same as last year in that regard, such as American Express handing out little ear piece radios that give closed broadcasts of several games, merely by swiping your card and giving your zip code. The radios have even become 'currency' in the hands of some Jamaican I know: exchanged for a mouse pad with a boy who had won two pads; exchanged for an ice cream by a vendor who clearly was a tennis fan without an Amex card. Some people I sat with yesterday told me that if you drive a Lexus to the tournament you can get free parking. I wondered if you needed it, but who am I to scoff? I imagined that if I flew in with my Net Jets plane and picked up my Lexus then I would be in tennis fan heaven.

But some things have also changed from last year.

For me, some clear bads:

• American Express no longer offer their closed circuit mini TV set that allowed you to watch live games on six channels in return for simply swiping your Amex card. A young operative explained to me that it was a matter of cost. I mentioned the goodwill that it had generated, not least from those of us who pay off on time. Maybe, it's a lesson: Amex needs me to not pay and give them more fees.

But some goods too:

• Stonyfield Farm Yogurt (SFY) sponsored the tournament (see notice) and is to promote its Oikos Organic Greek Yogurt. We get offered a small pot on either side of the entry gate and at other points.Very refreshing and tasty: SFY will hand out tens of thousands of four-oz. samples of Oikos in flavors including strawberry, blueberry, honey, plain and vanilla. I have had about 12 pots over 4 days and they are great when the sun is bleaching you to look like plain yogurt. Now SFY is a very keen environmentally friendly firm and should be known for its program of giving 10 percent of profits to organizastions that protect and restore the Earth (see website).


• Heineken have created a little 'bar space'. Only problem is that it looks like a corporate hospitality room and many people do not venture in. Cue the Jamaican. The boy went in on day one and found soft white leatherette sofas, and a nice young man showed me how to make it from a flat bed into a sofa, and rearranged the throw cushions. They also have several interactive tennis games on large screens. Result: every mid afternoon, I lolled there and quaffed a cold one while watching a match and charging my phone. I cooled out with the staff, who are a bunch of fun young men and women. Yesterday someone surveyed me and told me that for answering five questions I would get a US$100 Amex gift certificate. I made sure that I also answered for my wife: she likes their cards. It get funky in the evening as it looks more like a bar and the music gets pumped up.


• Smash zone, where kids and adults can be kids and take on tennis related challenges such as dealing with 90 MPH serves.


• Amex now give a cash back deal for paying with their card and that is better than accumulating tennis posters for each US$50 spent. The posters made good presents last year--'presents' tells you something?

• ESPN360.com has a 'pick a key and try a door' competition running: if the key fits a lock you get what's inside. Mouse pad, even a laptop can be won. But, your key may not open the door you pick. But, you can try as often as you like and the ladies running the booth are very friendly, pretty and funny.

More generally, the tournament is used to get people to part with money gently. Entry is reasonable: about US$11 for a ground pass and that covers all courts except Arthur Ashe. Food is not too disgustingly dear. Water fountains are everywhere so you can fill your own bottles not have to buy fancy Evian. Beer, though, is ridiculously priced at US$8 for a can: it's been cheaper to drink gasoline for a long time, remember. Ice creams are not badly priced. Chase and Amex try to get you to sign up (Chase ATMs abound) and offer sweeteners (text to Chase to try to win ticket upgrades); the New York Times offers a US$50 gift voucher if you sign up for home delivery. Etc.


Lesson for the Caribbean? When I have been to the one major sports event that gets mounted regularly, a Test or one-day cricket match what do I get? I get Digicel or Stag rags to wave or tie on my head or around my neck. I get Digicel 'clappers'; their SIX/FOUR cards to wave. What else? That's it. A beer company may be offering a little something, but I have never seen or tasted anything. I have to scratch my head if I ever saw a BICO ice cream stand at a game. True, we have less money to throw around but we have some. We have spent money on many things and like to feel that we can get a little something back. But, we often don't see the plays for marketing.

Can You Help Me, Please?

It's testimony to where the USA has reached that a black man standing in a yellow T-shirt can be regarded by a mass of white people as a fount of wisdom. How so? I stood behind a sign board near an exit at the US Open tennis this evening and almost everyone who needed information came to ask me. I think they did not notice that the sign read 'Exit' and just assumed it was a kiosk front. My yellow shirt was similar to that of some attendants. But I was carrying a purple New York University bag, and I was slouched over the sign, with fatigue.

One can never get into the mind of another person. I was stunned when a lady from the ATP World Tour came and asked me where she could leave tickets to be collected. I was tempted to say "Right here, miss," because I had no ticket for the evening session, and though I was wasted, I could have taken in Sharapova and Roddick into the night.

I should have remembered the court side attendant for the match featuring the Williams sisters this afternoon. There was a burly black man, with some features that were a bit on the thick side, and I can just about see the possible confusion.

But, is it good that in America a black man can be seen as a regular service worker? Moments before, I had a Latino cleaner come to talk to me about how he had to take on night cleaning work at the stadium, after being put on short time at his regular job. I asked him if his colleagues were mainly Latinos and Latinas. He said they were. People like me could go to watch the tennis. In his eyes, the black man, decently dressed was able to spend time lolling around at tennis tournaments while he had to work from 7am till 10pm to make ends meet. Maybe, the impression is that the American black man has moved on a good way. Interesting.

How Do You Do? I Am Very Pleased To Meet You.

This is a phrase I have taught my children from early days and with a ditty that ends "Shaky, shaky, shaky, shaky, shake" as I teach them how to greet and shake hands.

I meet people because I am prepared to meet people. I suffer--less and less, I will say--a lot of BS about communication. But, I feel pretty clear about how it works and wonder what it is that some of life's 'gurus' are spinning with what they offer as communication skills.

Sitting in a little corner section at the US Open tennis yesterday, I was doing what most black patrons do at that tournament, I was watching a black player in action. This time, the athletic Frenchman, Gael Monfils (pronounced mon feec). I was rolling out the French expressions as much as anything because I knew that Americans are enamoured of a little bit of the exotic and sounding foreign is very much that. So, "Allez, Gael!" (Go, Gael!) I shouted often. It was funny because Monfils was playing his countryman, Jeremy Chardy--who was having a day of hitting the net too often. A group of young American men was behind and they asked if I was French, and I explained. We then talked a bit about the tournament and how much fun it always was especially watching in the smaller show courts, as now, in Grandstand.

My wife went off to get coffee, and then a black man in front of me, turned to me and asked me if I was francophone. I told him no and asked him from where he came. He told me Guadeloupe. I smiled and we did the fist bump and hand clasp. He added that he now lives in France, in Marseille. As islanders together, we joked a bit. He seemed very gentle and explained that this was his first trip to the US Open. He added that he would be there for the full two weeks. Coffee arrived and we had another round of introductions. We then needed to leave to see yet another French player in action--"The Magician", Fabrice Santoro, now 36 touching 37 and retiring this year after 20 years as a professional. His game is all guile and slice and frustrating the opponent, and smiles and colour.

As I headed off to an outside field court, I felt a touch on my shoulder. Mr. Guadelopean had followed me and wanted to offer me the chance to visit him in France. I warned him that I take up such offers readily. He smiled and fiddled to find an e-mail address and gave me his telephone number in France. Then he mentioned that he needed to call his wife and let her know all was fine. I offered to inform her immediately by sending an e-mail from my mobile phone. He was thrilled. I went off to see a magic show.

Before getting to the court, nature called. I looked at no lines for the tennis so joined one for the loo--a long one. When I had relieved myself, I was not relieved to see the tennis line was now 40 people long and not moving. Drat. I did find a gap in the hedge and peeped in to see the start of play. Santoro had his opponent, Juan Ferrero dangling on a rope, but not long enough to stay ahead for long.But, it was fun to see. I sent the e-mail while waiting. Within minutes came back a reply, full of surprise that an 'American' could be so willing to help a foreigner. I disabused the man's wife (no crime) and told her my origin. All was simply understood now: Antillean people together. We exchanged more messages during the day and she told me which matches she was watching from Marseille.

I'll dedicate this piece to yet another lovely chance meeting. I do not know if the French couple read English, but I may have to do a little translation for them.