Saturday, September 25, 2010

Airborne: Remembering Lindsay


Isn't it rich? Aren't we a pair? Me here at last on the ground, and you in mid-air.

I last saw Lindsay Tamminga in person seven years ago. Our church youth group went to AIRBORNE trampoline place to the west of Erin Mills, and when it was her turn to bounce on the trampoline she jumped really high. She leapt so high that she almost touched the ceiling! This was incredible when you consider she was a few feet shorter than me, and I couldn't reach that high.

If you ever saw her smile, then you know how much you felt like smiling, too. If you were standing in the corner of the room, she would make you a part of the group discussion; if it was me though, she would order me to contribute, and most of time I would.

Before she quit Facebook because it was "time-consuming", we would chat a little bit about our life and times. From her pictures, she seemed very happy with her family and her friends. I remember getting a notice of uploaded pictures of her trip with friends up to Wasaga beach, and looking at a girl enjoying a small paper plate of french fries and wondering how happy she must seem. Just like that girl at Airborne so many years before. I remembered another picture of her with her family at the LAC in Mississauga. Family was always important to her, and she did not mind showing off her cool parents. Her dad rode into the church parking lot one night on his motorcycle, and I remember being very, VERY afraid of him. She was low-key about the motorcycle, and she said there was nothing to be afraid of. I took her advice and before the night was through I was able to talk to Mr. Tamminga about motorcycle stuff. She even had a red motorcycle jacket; I thought it was neat.

If there is something I learned from her is that independence is nothing without family. Friends are good, too, but the best friends should be part of your family as well. It is important to remember how precious each moment must be, and why we never forget where we come from as we move forward. I doubt I will ever meet someone like her again, but I hope I will someday, and she will still be wearing that patented smile.

To the family and friends of Lindsay Tamminga, who knew her best, I send my heartfelt condolences. Words cannot adequately express how sorrowful I am about the news of Lindsay's departure. My family and I continue to have you in our thoughts and prayers during this difficult time.

Monday, September 13, 2010

I Miss Him. Every Game.

I never expected to lose with him on the court. In any game and in every game; I expected victory and nothing less. This was a virgin feeling I had about one player in a team game. Of course, baseball would the exception to the rule. In 1992 and 1993, if we were leading late in the game, then defeat was close to impossible because or relief pitching was so dominant. However, if we trailed in the last few innings, one of our players would get that clutch hit. After all, the memory which supersedes all others was "The Clutch Hit" for everyone who witnessed it.

However, this was different; this was basketball. Never did we have a superstar to take over games, and we never thought of missing the playoffs with such a superstar. What did we call this feeling; Confidence, arrogance, pride? No, we called it Vinsanity.

I miss feeling that way. I miss having legitimate reasons to watch ESPN Classic to relive those great moments when he would make that game-winning shot. I miss having confidence in my basketball team. I miss having a reason to watch the game. I miss having no worries about the opponent my team would play against (unless it was Jordan's Bulls)...no, wait, that's not it at all. There is one thing I miss more than all of those put together:

I miss Vince Carter.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Things to Do

1. Scour the densest jungles and deserts of the world.
2. Find some guy who thinks he is always right, even when he is wrong.
3. Make him wear FIFA referee shirt.
4. Put him in charge of an important match in the 2010 World Cup.
5. Watch him blow an important, game-changing call.
6. Watch him refuse to explain his actions afterward.
7. Shove him on plane for anywhere he would like to go. One-way, of course.
8. Read papers later on how said person was known to take bribes in past games, and maybe even for this game.
9. Bury head in sand when confronted by media when asked why we allowed him to referee in the first place.
10. Repeat 1-9
11. Send "Things to do" list to UEFA, CONCACAF, CONMEBOL, etc.

Czar Blatter: The man behind the curtain?


Why am I the only one willing to question the divine origin of all words spoken by Czar Blatter I? When the Czar speaks we all tremble, but no longer shall I be fooled by him who speaks from his ivory tower deep in the European countryside.

What is he talking about?


The man behind the curtain refuses to address the real issues plaguing the game of soccer because he can afford to. FIFA is the chair of "The Beautiful Business": They are in charge of the world's most popular sport, its rules, and directs sovereign countries on how they should play the game. Meanwhile, FIFA buries its head in the sand when faced with the everyday issues surrounding the game, such as corruption on the field such as biased referees, and corruption off the field involving refusal to get tough on crimes based on race, religion, or creed directly impacting the game. The "Old Firm" rivalry of Scotland, the treatment of black players in Spanish or Italian league matches, or the collapse of the South African infrastructure as a result of the 2010 World Cup are issues FIFA ignores, for example. "What to do about gameplay" is a minor issue in light of these blights on the game of soccer.

If he must tweak gameplay, however, keep the rules the same and introduce goal-line technology. The technology is there, but for reasons unknown or outdated the Czar maintains the status quo on bringing soccer into the twenty-first century.

"Soccer in the lower levels does not have video review; why should we?"

This is a paraphrased rebuttal Czar Blatter uses whenever goal-line technology or "video review" comes up. Other sports use this technology because it makes the game better, helps the referees get it right, and brings legitimacy to the game. However, like the microphones wired to the heads of some World Cup referees, FIFA does not use them. This is the benefit of being the monopoly or lone shareholder of soccer. No timetable, no business rivals, and every person on this planet, even soccer haters, must ultimately go to FIFA for the final word.

Well, I'm not going to play the fool anymore. I don't need Toto to pull back the curtain to reveal who is really at fault for soccer's current malade (is that a word?). Czar Blatter: Abdicate.

This blog post is dedicated to the memory of my cousin Carl Headley in England, who passed away from a sudden illness. We miss you, Carl.