Finish Lines
Oct. 1st, 2007 02:25 pmI am not a fan of NASCAR, or auto racing in general. People try to tell me that it involves strategy ("drafting" and, uh… well, there's "drafting") and skill (you have to be really good at left turns). But to me it just looks like a bunch of billboards driving in a circle for three hours. Then again, they probably don't understand how I can watch game after game of guys in tight pants hitting balls with sticks or intentionally colliding with each other in 45-second intervals. So I say let a thousand flowers bloom. I couldn't help noticing, however, that last night in one of their big races for "the cup" (which seems to me only slightly more ambitious than competing for a belt) they postponed the race at one point because of darkness. Now, let's forget for a moment that we are living in the 21st century, and no longer have to hold competitions by sun- and torch-light. And let's ignore also that these mega-speedways, built pretty recently with exploding NASCAR revenues, probably have some pretty sophisticated lighting installed for the track. But you'll also notice that every single car has headlights.

What, then, could these headlights possibly be for? It's not as if the driver-athletes are driving these vehicles back to their homes after the race. I gather that a lot of effort is put in to the construction of these vehicles, with hours and hours of critical thought about how to reduce weight and wind resistance by so much as a gram per cubic inch. If the cars are not allowed to be driven in the dark, why then do they bother putting lights in them? Do the lights even work? Could you use your "brights" at key moments in the race to temporarily blind and therefore gain competitive advantage over your opponents? The race in question also had a rain delay; do these cars also have windshield wipers?
…
I play fantasy sports. Because of my competitive nature, I can get pretty serious about it, but I try not to talk about it very much. Someone wrote once that talking about your fantasy teams is like showing off your vacation photos. People will be polite about looking at them, but all they really want to know is if you had a good time. So I will only mention briefly that I just won first place in my fantasy baseball league, earning a tidy jackpot and subtly proving to my old fraternity brothers that I'm more than just book-smart. This is broadly relevant in that I used to say – several years ago, when I first started playing – "my fantasy teams always do best when my real life sucks, and my fantasy teams always suck when my real life is great." I have come to realize that this is not just a cosmic coincidence. As I closed in on victory over the past month, J. had gotten increasingly frustrated with my tendency to drift off during conversations/meals/weddings to wonder about box scores or tomorrow's starting pitchers. By last week, the only way to prevent her from strangling me with my internet cable was to promise that I would spend any winnings on a fancy dinner for two. And while all this was going on, under duress I joined a fantasy football league – after staying away from fantasy football for several years – promising myself (and J.) that I would not let it rule and ruin my life. And I've been true to my word; I've checked my football team about once a week, on Sundays, just to decide whom I'm starting that day. My record so far suggests that I should probably not even be doing that, and should instead employ some kind of simian proxy. I am currently dead last in the league, a laughingstock to fellow players and an embarrassment to my fantasy profile. My Sundays, however, are stress-free, and during conversations with Jessica I am free to daydream about more mature pursuits.
…
Now it's time for my annual sure-to-be-wrong playoff predictions. This year, I'm trying something slightly different. The teams I pick to advance will be selected on the basis of nothing more than defensive prowess, as subjectively quantified by me. To the picks!
NL Play-in game:
Colorado over San Diego
NL Divisionals:
Chicago over Arizona (Orlando Hudson's absence will be profoundly damaging to the Diamondbacks)
Colorado over Philadelphia (Defense will play a limited role here, as most of the batted balls will end up over the outfield fences)
NL Championship:
Colorado over Chicago (Tulowitzki's coming out party will put a real damper on World Series ratings)
AL Divisionals:
Boston over Los Angeles (the Angels have a slightly better outfield, but the Red Sox have a better infield, and the Angels don't hit it in the air very much)
New York over Cleveland (barely, and I'm assuming that Giambi and Damon will see limited time in the field)
AL Championship:
Boston over New York (Fox executives will collapse with unfettered joy, even though the series will be nauseatingly overhyped and sloppily played)
World Series:
Colorado over Boston (The Rockies will clinch in Game Six, approx. 2 a.m. Eastern Time)

What, then, could these headlights possibly be for? It's not as if the driver-athletes are driving these vehicles back to their homes after the race. I gather that a lot of effort is put in to the construction of these vehicles, with hours and hours of critical thought about how to reduce weight and wind resistance by so much as a gram per cubic inch. If the cars are not allowed to be driven in the dark, why then do they bother putting lights in them? Do the lights even work? Could you use your "brights" at key moments in the race to temporarily blind and therefore gain competitive advantage over your opponents? The race in question also had a rain delay; do these cars also have windshield wipers?
…
I play fantasy sports. Because of my competitive nature, I can get pretty serious about it, but I try not to talk about it very much. Someone wrote once that talking about your fantasy teams is like showing off your vacation photos. People will be polite about looking at them, but all they really want to know is if you had a good time. So I will only mention briefly that I just won first place in my fantasy baseball league, earning a tidy jackpot and subtly proving to my old fraternity brothers that I'm more than just book-smart. This is broadly relevant in that I used to say – several years ago, when I first started playing – "my fantasy teams always do best when my real life sucks, and my fantasy teams always suck when my real life is great." I have come to realize that this is not just a cosmic coincidence. As I closed in on victory over the past month, J. had gotten increasingly frustrated with my tendency to drift off during conversations/meals/weddings to wonder about box scores or tomorrow's starting pitchers. By last week, the only way to prevent her from strangling me with my internet cable was to promise that I would spend any winnings on a fancy dinner for two. And while all this was going on, under duress I joined a fantasy football league – after staying away from fantasy football for several years – promising myself (and J.) that I would not let it rule and ruin my life. And I've been true to my word; I've checked my football team about once a week, on Sundays, just to decide whom I'm starting that day. My record so far suggests that I should probably not even be doing that, and should instead employ some kind of simian proxy. I am currently dead last in the league, a laughingstock to fellow players and an embarrassment to my fantasy profile. My Sundays, however, are stress-free, and during conversations with Jessica I am free to daydream about more mature pursuits.
…
Now it's time for my annual sure-to-be-wrong playoff predictions. This year, I'm trying something slightly different. The teams I pick to advance will be selected on the basis of nothing more than defensive prowess, as subjectively quantified by me. To the picks!
NL Play-in game:
Colorado over San Diego
NL Divisionals:
Chicago over Arizona (Orlando Hudson's absence will be profoundly damaging to the Diamondbacks)
Colorado over Philadelphia (Defense will play a limited role here, as most of the batted balls will end up over the outfield fences)
NL Championship:
Colorado over Chicago (Tulowitzki's coming out party will put a real damper on World Series ratings)
AL Divisionals:
Boston over Los Angeles (the Angels have a slightly better outfield, but the Red Sox have a better infield, and the Angels don't hit it in the air very much)
New York over Cleveland (barely, and I'm assuming that Giambi and Damon will see limited time in the field)
AL Championship:
Boston over New York (Fox executives will collapse with unfettered joy, even though the series will be nauseatingly overhyped and sloppily played)
World Series:
Colorado over Boston (The Rockies will clinch in Game Six, approx. 2 a.m. Eastern Time)
no subject
Date: 2007-10-17 01:27 pm (UTC)