What do you think of when you form an opinion of someone? In the case of close friends your thoughts are no doubt shaped by a collection of mental snap shots accumulated over a period of time, each one taken at different times and under varying circumstances and each displaying traits of that individual. These personality traits make up our character. They can include courtesy, loyalty, patience, compassion, humility, honesty and others.
There is one quality I admire above all. Kindness. When you think about each one of the qualities mentioned above, a kind person has them all. Kind people are most certainly courteous. They are definitely loyal. Patience is the essence of kindness. The same can be said of compassion. Humility is an off shoot of kindness as is honesty. I could go on and on. Kind people are easy to be around and they make the best of friends. They are good listeners and sincere to a fault.
You know how you can tell a kind person. Their eyes. They are a dead give-a-way. They can’t hide it, kind people have kind eyes.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
THINGS THAT BOTHER ME #2
I was fighting hard to keep from commenting on this but I just can’t let it pass. If you have read my earlier blogs you know I love the Olympic Games, both winter and summer. Thanks to phenomenal television coverage we are treated to many events spread over many venues. A difficult task I am sure, particularly when many of those competitions are occurring simultaneously. One network and a couple of cable stations are used to bring us as much of the action as possible. Somewhere, someone makes the decision as to when and where the different events are beamed around the world. I am sure television ratings are the prime consideration as to which events are shown in prime time and on the network telecast. The others are relegated to the cable channels at odd hours of the day and night. I get the fact that, as an advertiser paying big bucks for air time, you want as many viewers as possible. Which, in the winter Games, means some form of ice skating.
So last night, I settle down on my couch after Sunday dinner, anxiously awaiting any one of 3 historic hockey match-ups. In addition to Bode Miller, a compelling story himself, we have Apolo Anton Ono some sledding and other stuff and then I can’t wait to see which hockey game we get, Russian vs. Czech Republic, Sweden vs. Norway or Canada vs. the United States. Each of these games a classic match-up of very bitter rivals with great history. But noooooooo, we get almost 3 hours of ice dancing. ICE DANCING. What’s up with that. And it was only the second of 3 rounds. ICE DANCING in lieu of USA vs Canada. Not only that, the hockey game had been televised earlier on one of the cable channels. We got a short interview of Al “Do you believe in miracles?” Michaels and Chris Collingsworth from the game site saying how electric the atmosphere was and what a ferocious attack the Canadians unleashed on the American goalie in the closing minutes and what a monumental upset they had just witnessed as the Americans upset the favored Canadians at their own game on their ice. It was the first US Olympic win over Canada since 1960. It would have been great to see.
I guess I only have myself to blame. I should have read the fine print to see when the various events were on. But in a million years it would never have occurred to me that more viewers in our country would rather see ice dancing than the USA vs. Canada hockey game. I mean ice dancing is a lovely sport if you like sequins but where did we go wrong? What kind of a life lie’s ahead for our children? Is nothing sacred? In the future when we have an Olympic soccer final of, say, Brazil vs. France, are we going to cut to synchronized swimming? God help us.
So last night, I settle down on my couch after Sunday dinner, anxiously awaiting any one of 3 historic hockey match-ups. In addition to Bode Miller, a compelling story himself, we have Apolo Anton Ono some sledding and other stuff and then I can’t wait to see which hockey game we get, Russian vs. Czech Republic, Sweden vs. Norway or Canada vs. the United States. Each of these games a classic match-up of very bitter rivals with great history. But noooooooo, we get almost 3 hours of ice dancing. ICE DANCING. What’s up with that. And it was only the second of 3 rounds. ICE DANCING in lieu of USA vs Canada. Not only that, the hockey game had been televised earlier on one of the cable channels. We got a short interview of Al “Do you believe in miracles?” Michaels and Chris Collingsworth from the game site saying how electric the atmosphere was and what a ferocious attack the Canadians unleashed on the American goalie in the closing minutes and what a monumental upset they had just witnessed as the Americans upset the favored Canadians at their own game on their ice. It was the first US Olympic win over Canada since 1960. It would have been great to see.
I guess I only have myself to blame. I should have read the fine print to see when the various events were on. But in a million years it would never have occurred to me that more viewers in our country would rather see ice dancing than the USA vs. Canada hockey game. I mean ice dancing is a lovely sport if you like sequins but where did we go wrong? What kind of a life lie’s ahead for our children? Is nothing sacred? In the future when we have an Olympic soccer final of, say, Brazil vs. France, are we going to cut to synchronized swimming? God help us.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
THE BANK
In order to make a withdrawal from the bank you must make deposits. If you have been wise and planned for the future you have deposited more than you have withdrawn so that down the road there is some reserve to draw on in time of need. How you treat people works the same way.
Over the course of our lives there are many people who are important to us. There are employers that we work for or employees that work for us. There are customers, friends, acquaintances, competitors and if you are a public figure, those you serve. Most important of all are our families. If we are to build up any reserve with these people we must make deposits along the way.
Building up a reserve begins with treating people like you would like to be treated. The reserve builds as you do the little things. Common courtesy is nice. So is showing respect for people. Are you positive and upbeat? Being a good listener and showing compassion is credible as is not talking negatively about people. These qualities and many others contribute to the image others have of you and help forge a foundation of trust.
Building upon that trust is when the larger deposits must be made. The amount can be significant or not and is often influenced by several key character traits and tests of those traits. Look-me-in-the-eye honesty, unwavering loyalty, fairness, hand shake integrity and humility are some of the traits. The tests can be telling. Were you there for things that were important to them? When help was needed did you respond, without wavering? When you gave someone your word you would do something, did you? Do you do the right thing, even when no one is watching? Do you stay strong when your principles are involved?
How you respond to these tests determines the amount of reserve you have with someone. The closer that someone is the more important the responses become. When those “someone’s” are your wife and kids there is NOTHING that is more important.
You cannot have failed these tests along the way and expect there to be blind faith in you when they need that faith. You must make your visits to the bank and make your deposits along the way. They must know, without any question, they come ahead of anything else in your life.
Over the course of our lives there are many people who are important to us. There are employers that we work for or employees that work for us. There are customers, friends, acquaintances, competitors and if you are a public figure, those you serve. Most important of all are our families. If we are to build up any reserve with these people we must make deposits along the way.
Building up a reserve begins with treating people like you would like to be treated. The reserve builds as you do the little things. Common courtesy is nice. So is showing respect for people. Are you positive and upbeat? Being a good listener and showing compassion is credible as is not talking negatively about people. These qualities and many others contribute to the image others have of you and help forge a foundation of trust.
Building upon that trust is when the larger deposits must be made. The amount can be significant or not and is often influenced by several key character traits and tests of those traits. Look-me-in-the-eye honesty, unwavering loyalty, fairness, hand shake integrity and humility are some of the traits. The tests can be telling. Were you there for things that were important to them? When help was needed did you respond, without wavering? When you gave someone your word you would do something, did you? Do you do the right thing, even when no one is watching? Do you stay strong when your principles are involved?
How you respond to these tests determines the amount of reserve you have with someone. The closer that someone is the more important the responses become. When those “someone’s” are your wife and kids there is NOTHING that is more important.
You cannot have failed these tests along the way and expect there to be blind faith in you when they need that faith. You must make your visits to the bank and make your deposits along the way. They must know, without any question, they come ahead of anything else in your life.
Monday, February 15, 2010
THE OLYMPICS
It sounds odd to say some of my more memorable experiences have occurred while reclining on my living room couch but that is the gospel truth. You see, I love the Olympics, either summer or winter. They used to be scheduled in the same year, every four years. Now they are still four years apart but now they are staggered so there are Games every two years. This is helpful for those of us who can’t wait for the next Games.
Thanks to the miracle of television and new slo-mo technology we get to see these events from start to finish in great detail. To those who gripe about the number of commercials ruining your viewing experience, I say move to a country with state sponsored telecasts and see where they are getting their coverage come. I gladly watch, what in most cases, are very creative, often humorous ads to get the coverage we do. It is a very small price to pay. Yes, I love the little segments they do on big name and not so big name competitors, shedding much insight into them and the countries they represent. I even enjoy dressage, archery, the skeleton and other less prominent events. Curling is even starting to grow on me.
The opening and closing ceremonies, are can’t miss TV for me. The sight of all the athletes together in their countries colors and uniforms warms my heart. The mystery of who will be given the honor of lighting the Olympic flame. Then the Games themselves with world class athletes competing head to head and the added bonus of many of them are representing the good old U S of A. And as someone who gets misty eyed at a beautiful sunset I turn to jelly when our national anthem is played for one of our own.
The memorable experiences I mentioned cover many years and both winter and summer Games. My personal list of memorable moments from the Olympics began with the 1960 Squaw Valley winter Games. The men’s hockey team accomplished the seemingly impossible task of defeating Canada, Russia and then Czechoslovakia to win the gold. I feel the feat matched that of the U.S. men’s hockey team winning the gold at Lake Placid in 1980. If Al Michaels had been around in 1960 we might have had a “Do you believe in miracles?” I and II.
The 1960 summer Games in Rome introduced to the world a light heavyweight boxer from the United States named Cassius Clay. To say he burst on the scene would be understating his impact on the world. Unlike most that experience fleeting fame only to drift from the spotlight, Cassius Clay was just getting started. In the coming years he would go on to such world wide popularity and influence that he is considered by many to be the most popular athlete ever. At the Atlanta Games of 1996as Muhammad Ali, he was selected to light the Olympic torch.
The most recent and to me the most dramatic, heart stopping event of all was the men’s swimmers 4x100 meter relay in Beijing. Sitting all by myself in my dark living room I yelled at the top of my lungs as I jumped off my couch, fist pumping furiously at what I had just seen. Swimming the anchor leg for the United States, Jason Lezak, soundly beaten 30 meters from the finish, summoned energy from god knows where to nip the favored French team. When I say nip, I mean nip. Michael Phelps, leaning over the edge of the pool and looking down at the finish had to look up at the scoreboard to determine who won. Even watching slo-mo re-runs on television it was difficult to tell who won. Phelps’s resultant arms stretched high, wide, open-mouth scream will be etched in my mind forever. It still gives me chills.
Those same games also produced the most dominating performance I have ever witnessed in big time competition in any sport. The men’s 100 meter Olympic final is the marquee event in track and field. The title of world’s fastest human is at stake. The field is loaded with cheetah quick men who normally lunge at the finish in unison. A photo often needed to determine a winner. Not this time. Usain Bolt, a tall, reed thin man wearing the green and yellow of Jamaica toyed with the field. Half way through the race he is looking around to see where everyone was. He eased up before the finish line and still obliterated the world record.
A stretch of memorable women’s gymnasts hold a special place in my heart. Like the rest of the world my daughters were mesmerized by Olga Korbut, Nadia Comanici, and Mary Lou Retton. Olga, 14 year old Nadia who scored a perfect 10 and Mary Lou with her beautiful smile and American flag uniform, inspired my daughters to the point that they would flip flop around the house, diving off furniture, rolling on the floor, then jump up, legs together, arms stretched high, head back and chest thrust forward, a perfect imitation of their heroes. They were living proof that these athletes inspire youth around the world.
No one who witnessed it will ever forget the hand raised, black fisted salute of John Carlos and Tommie Smith on the podium in Mexico City, 1968. Their enduring image is a reminder of a turbulent time.
There are many athletes who stand out to me, many because of winning performances but some for other reasons. Dorothy Hamil was a magnificent skater but I remember her hair style that had women everywhere telling their hairdresser “This is what I want to look like.” Dick Fosbury introducing the Fosbury Flop, taking high jumping to a new level. Eddie the Eagle, a so-so ski jumper from England, captivated the world by overachieving to the max. Cathy Freeman, an aborigine Australian, winning the 400 meters in the Sydney Games of her home country. Ian Thorpe, the Australian swimmer, a national hero and as close to a fish as one can be without gills. I loved watching the medal winning machine, speed skater Bonnie Blair and her graceful side to side glide.
Right at the top of individual performances would be that of downhill racer Franz Klammer. In what was to become recognized as one of the more dramatic down hill runs ever, Klammer came down the hill as if trying to stay ahead of an avalanche, arms flailing, first on one ski then the other, his form in no way resembled the classic form expected of world class skiers. It was very clear he was determined to win that race at all cost. His complete lack of regard for his own safety won the hearts of everyone.
I happened to be skiing a while back at Heavenly Valley in the Lake Tahoe area where some of the women’s Olympic ski team members were training for the down hill. I was standing off to the side looking over the edge of a precipitous drop-off contemplating whether I had the courage to traverse my way down. Suddenly, two blurs in blue go by me in a tuck position, over the edge on the fly, flitting over the surface of the snow in a straight line and disappearing around a bend way down the hill before I could blink. I was smitten forever. Franz Klammer’s run personifies that type of courage and have-no-fear attitude. The down hill is my favorite event, winner or summer.
Lastly, there are those accomplishments that I remember more for their collective greatness rather than a single performance. Eric Heiden comes to mind with 5 gold medals in speed skating. Mark Spitz winning 7 gold medals in swimming has to be on the list and of course Michael Phelps with his 8 gold medals seems like a record that no one will surpass. But then we said that about Spitz.
As I watch the winter Olympic Games from Vancouver I wonder which athletes will capture the imagination of the world and go on to become house hold names. I have a feeling Apolo Anton Ono will be one. I already know that the opening ceremony is right up there with my favorites and the singing of Hallelujah by K. D. Lang and Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell are the first songs to join my list of memorable memories.
Thanks to the miracle of television and new slo-mo technology we get to see these events from start to finish in great detail. To those who gripe about the number of commercials ruining your viewing experience, I say move to a country with state sponsored telecasts and see where they are getting their coverage come. I gladly watch, what in most cases, are very creative, often humorous ads to get the coverage we do. It is a very small price to pay. Yes, I love the little segments they do on big name and not so big name competitors, shedding much insight into them and the countries they represent. I even enjoy dressage, archery, the skeleton and other less prominent events. Curling is even starting to grow on me.
The opening and closing ceremonies, are can’t miss TV for me. The sight of all the athletes together in their countries colors and uniforms warms my heart. The mystery of who will be given the honor of lighting the Olympic flame. Then the Games themselves with world class athletes competing head to head and the added bonus of many of them are representing the good old U S of A. And as someone who gets misty eyed at a beautiful sunset I turn to jelly when our national anthem is played for one of our own.
The memorable experiences I mentioned cover many years and both winter and summer Games. My personal list of memorable moments from the Olympics began with the 1960 Squaw Valley winter Games. The men’s hockey team accomplished the seemingly impossible task of defeating Canada, Russia and then Czechoslovakia to win the gold. I feel the feat matched that of the U.S. men’s hockey team winning the gold at Lake Placid in 1980. If Al Michaels had been around in 1960 we might have had a “Do you believe in miracles?” I and II.
The 1960 summer Games in Rome introduced to the world a light heavyweight boxer from the United States named Cassius Clay. To say he burst on the scene would be understating his impact on the world. Unlike most that experience fleeting fame only to drift from the spotlight, Cassius Clay was just getting started. In the coming years he would go on to such world wide popularity and influence that he is considered by many to be the most popular athlete ever. At the Atlanta Games of 1996as Muhammad Ali, he was selected to light the Olympic torch.
The most recent and to me the most dramatic, heart stopping event of all was the men’s swimmers 4x100 meter relay in Beijing. Sitting all by myself in my dark living room I yelled at the top of my lungs as I jumped off my couch, fist pumping furiously at what I had just seen. Swimming the anchor leg for the United States, Jason Lezak, soundly beaten 30 meters from the finish, summoned energy from god knows where to nip the favored French team. When I say nip, I mean nip. Michael Phelps, leaning over the edge of the pool and looking down at the finish had to look up at the scoreboard to determine who won. Even watching slo-mo re-runs on television it was difficult to tell who won. Phelps’s resultant arms stretched high, wide, open-mouth scream will be etched in my mind forever. It still gives me chills.
Those same games also produced the most dominating performance I have ever witnessed in big time competition in any sport. The men’s 100 meter Olympic final is the marquee event in track and field. The title of world’s fastest human is at stake. The field is loaded with cheetah quick men who normally lunge at the finish in unison. A photo often needed to determine a winner. Not this time. Usain Bolt, a tall, reed thin man wearing the green and yellow of Jamaica toyed with the field. Half way through the race he is looking around to see where everyone was. He eased up before the finish line and still obliterated the world record.
A stretch of memorable women’s gymnasts hold a special place in my heart. Like the rest of the world my daughters were mesmerized by Olga Korbut, Nadia Comanici, and Mary Lou Retton. Olga, 14 year old Nadia who scored a perfect 10 and Mary Lou with her beautiful smile and American flag uniform, inspired my daughters to the point that they would flip flop around the house, diving off furniture, rolling on the floor, then jump up, legs together, arms stretched high, head back and chest thrust forward, a perfect imitation of their heroes. They were living proof that these athletes inspire youth around the world.
No one who witnessed it will ever forget the hand raised, black fisted salute of John Carlos and Tommie Smith on the podium in Mexico City, 1968. Their enduring image is a reminder of a turbulent time.
There are many athletes who stand out to me, many because of winning performances but some for other reasons. Dorothy Hamil was a magnificent skater but I remember her hair style that had women everywhere telling their hairdresser “This is what I want to look like.” Dick Fosbury introducing the Fosbury Flop, taking high jumping to a new level. Eddie the Eagle, a so-so ski jumper from England, captivated the world by overachieving to the max. Cathy Freeman, an aborigine Australian, winning the 400 meters in the Sydney Games of her home country. Ian Thorpe, the Australian swimmer, a national hero and as close to a fish as one can be without gills. I loved watching the medal winning machine, speed skater Bonnie Blair and her graceful side to side glide.
Right at the top of individual performances would be that of downhill racer Franz Klammer. In what was to become recognized as one of the more dramatic down hill runs ever, Klammer came down the hill as if trying to stay ahead of an avalanche, arms flailing, first on one ski then the other, his form in no way resembled the classic form expected of world class skiers. It was very clear he was determined to win that race at all cost. His complete lack of regard for his own safety won the hearts of everyone.
I happened to be skiing a while back at Heavenly Valley in the Lake Tahoe area where some of the women’s Olympic ski team members were training for the down hill. I was standing off to the side looking over the edge of a precipitous drop-off contemplating whether I had the courage to traverse my way down. Suddenly, two blurs in blue go by me in a tuck position, over the edge on the fly, flitting over the surface of the snow in a straight line and disappearing around a bend way down the hill before I could blink. I was smitten forever. Franz Klammer’s run personifies that type of courage and have-no-fear attitude. The down hill is my favorite event, winner or summer.
Lastly, there are those accomplishments that I remember more for their collective greatness rather than a single performance. Eric Heiden comes to mind with 5 gold medals in speed skating. Mark Spitz winning 7 gold medals in swimming has to be on the list and of course Michael Phelps with his 8 gold medals seems like a record that no one will surpass. But then we said that about Spitz.
As I watch the winter Olympic Games from Vancouver I wonder which athletes will capture the imagination of the world and go on to become house hold names. I have a feeling Apolo Anton Ono will be one. I already know that the opening ceremony is right up there with my favorites and the singing of Hallelujah by K. D. Lang and Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell are the first songs to join my list of memorable memories.
Monday, February 8, 2010
THINGS THAT BOTHER ME
Not much really bothers me but a few things do. This is one of them. It bothers me when I call someone on their cell phone and they don’t answer. To most people their cell phone is like their TV remote control. It never leaves their hand let alone their reach. If they are in an important meeting their phone is probably off. So anytime other than that they can look at their phone and see my number. They know it is me. They do not know if I am calling to say Hi or if I have a life threatening emergency yet they choose not to answer. What you are saying to me is “I know whose calling but my time is much more valuable than yours so I will call you back when it is convenient for me”. What’s up with that. As I wait for the beep to leave my message I can think of all kinds of mean things to say, such as, “You have just won the 100 million dollar state lottery but you must respond within 1 minute or it will be given to your next door neighbor.”
When it is convenient for you to return my call I give you this solemn pledge. Whether I recognize your phone number or not I WILL answer you call. If I do not answer your call it will be for one of two reasons. My phone is off or I am dead.
When it is convenient for you to return my call I give you this solemn pledge. Whether I recognize your phone number or not I WILL answer you call. If I do not answer your call it will be for one of two reasons. My phone is off or I am dead.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus
Golf has always prided itself on being a game of integrity. The self enforcement of the rules of the game, honesty, respect for your fellow competitors, courtesy, the simple doffing of the cap, all contribute to the mosaic of integrity. Then there is something called class. Like love, faith or trust, it is one of life’s truths that you cannot touch or feel but you can sense. Even in the august group at the highest levels of competitive golf deemed to have “class” by others in the world of golf, there are a rare few that stand out.
A few years back, a senior tour was started for those golfers, 50 years of age and older, who wished to compete. It was made up of a mix of former stand-out tour players, near stand-outs and journeymen. Some of the greats continued to excel. Some were lucky enough to have good physical genes and actually improved as they aged. Many, who were middle-of-the-pack on the regular tour, became leaders on the senior tour. But most all of them, through experience and the wisdom that comes with years, exemplified all that was good about the game.
A while back one of the more prestigious stops on the senior tour was in Scottsdale, Arizona. A desirable location, climate, golf course and gracious hosts attracted most of the top senior players at the time, including Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus, the best of the best.
Like any tour tournament there are large numbers of volunteers needed to stage the event. My son was one of those volunteers. For the week of the tournament, his job was to man the gate where the competitors would enter the club house grounds. He would open the gate, greet them, give them directions if needed, and then close the gate after they passed through. He was there from before day light until after dark for practice rounds, the pro-am and the tournament. Because of the tournaments popularity it was one of the largest fields on the tour. All morning long he would open the gate as they arrived and do the same in the evening as they left. On Sunday afternoon, at the conclusion of the tournament, the players began departing. One by one they left. My son opened the gate and waved as they drove by. Of the seventy some players who departed that afternoon, two players stopped, Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus. Each got out of their car, walked around to my son, shook his hand and thanked him for helping out during the tournament. That gesture, by two of the greatest men to ever play the game of golf, is class.
A few years back, a senior tour was started for those golfers, 50 years of age and older, who wished to compete. It was made up of a mix of former stand-out tour players, near stand-outs and journeymen. Some of the greats continued to excel. Some were lucky enough to have good physical genes and actually improved as they aged. Many, who were middle-of-the-pack on the regular tour, became leaders on the senior tour. But most all of them, through experience and the wisdom that comes with years, exemplified all that was good about the game.
A while back one of the more prestigious stops on the senior tour was in Scottsdale, Arizona. A desirable location, climate, golf course and gracious hosts attracted most of the top senior players at the time, including Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus, the best of the best.
Like any tour tournament there are large numbers of volunteers needed to stage the event. My son was one of those volunteers. For the week of the tournament, his job was to man the gate where the competitors would enter the club house grounds. He would open the gate, greet them, give them directions if needed, and then close the gate after they passed through. He was there from before day light until after dark for practice rounds, the pro-am and the tournament. Because of the tournaments popularity it was one of the largest fields on the tour. All morning long he would open the gate as they arrived and do the same in the evening as they left. On Sunday afternoon, at the conclusion of the tournament, the players began departing. One by one they left. My son opened the gate and waved as they drove by. Of the seventy some players who departed that afternoon, two players stopped, Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus. Each got out of their car, walked around to my son, shook his hand and thanked him for helping out during the tournament. That gesture, by two of the greatest men to ever play the game of golf, is class.
Monday, February 1, 2010
ROGER
Thanks to Australia being on the other side of the International Date Line and umpteen time zones away, the Australian Open tennis tournament was beamed to us in California one day earlier and late at night. So after my favorite TV shows were over I tuned in to watch the action from Melbourne. The Australian Open is one of 4 Grand Slam events in tennis. In other words, it’s big. I love watching the major or championship events of all sports. The reason I watch is because world class athlete’s and teams do amazing things when their goal is to be crowned as the best in the world at what they do. At the highest levels of competition truly memorable things can happen.
Roger Federer is right there as one of my favorite athletes ever. In any sport you want to name. It is a given that athletes at this level have great physical ability. Some were born with the right genes while others had lesser natural talent but with a lifetime of hard work and dogged pursuit of a goal, reached the top. Roger won the men’s title at this year’s Australian Open, as he has numerous other tournaments and Grand Slam events, so you know he has a good mix of the genes, talent and dogged pursuit. It is the other aspects of the man that capture my admiration.
He is the ultimate poker face. You can’t tell by looking at him if he just pulled off a miracle shot down the line or hit a sure winner into the net. Today’s TV technology provides such fantastic close-up images of a players face that he has no secrets. Every grimace, squint or blink is there for all to see. And yet, as hard as I try I cannot detect any inkling of what kind of shot Roger just hit. The announcers come unglued at what they just witnessed and there is Roger, dead pan as ever. It must drive his opponent batty.
Then, adding insult to injury, he proceeds on to the next point as if he’s playing with some friends on a Saturday afternoon. This goes on from the beginning of the match to the end. Whether he is falling behind or cruising you have no bloody idea. Once in a while there will be a feeble attempt at a fist pump if he just hit a shot for the archives to win a particularly contentious point, but not often. A wiping of his brow or tucking a lock of hair into his sweat band is about the extent of it.
Then between games he just sits there in his chair, looking straight ahead, as if he is part way through a good work out. Ho-hum, I wonder where we’ll go for dinner tonight. I am sure all of this nonchalance is due to a combination of his natural demeanor and a supreme confidence in his ability. A confidence borne of years of physical conditioning and practice, practice, practice to the point where, like all great champions, he knows he is prepared for that moment and that time and there is no one that can beat him.
He has the appearance of a cold blooded assassin yet as soon as he speaks you know he is a kind and gentle man (I have never met him but that is my feeling). His tournament winning acceptance speeches are the epitome of class and grace. Equally so in defeat. If you listen to the color commentators he has the respect of everyone in and around the game of tennis.
If I were to sit down and list all the qualities I admire in a man in and out of the arena of competition Roger Federer possesses most of them. I am thankful he came along in my time.
Roger Federer is right there as one of my favorite athletes ever. In any sport you want to name. It is a given that athletes at this level have great physical ability. Some were born with the right genes while others had lesser natural talent but with a lifetime of hard work and dogged pursuit of a goal, reached the top. Roger won the men’s title at this year’s Australian Open, as he has numerous other tournaments and Grand Slam events, so you know he has a good mix of the genes, talent and dogged pursuit. It is the other aspects of the man that capture my admiration.
He is the ultimate poker face. You can’t tell by looking at him if he just pulled off a miracle shot down the line or hit a sure winner into the net. Today’s TV technology provides such fantastic close-up images of a players face that he has no secrets. Every grimace, squint or blink is there for all to see. And yet, as hard as I try I cannot detect any inkling of what kind of shot Roger just hit. The announcers come unglued at what they just witnessed and there is Roger, dead pan as ever. It must drive his opponent batty.
Then, adding insult to injury, he proceeds on to the next point as if he’s playing with some friends on a Saturday afternoon. This goes on from the beginning of the match to the end. Whether he is falling behind or cruising you have no bloody idea. Once in a while there will be a feeble attempt at a fist pump if he just hit a shot for the archives to win a particularly contentious point, but not often. A wiping of his brow or tucking a lock of hair into his sweat band is about the extent of it.
Then between games he just sits there in his chair, looking straight ahead, as if he is part way through a good work out. Ho-hum, I wonder where we’ll go for dinner tonight. I am sure all of this nonchalance is due to a combination of his natural demeanor and a supreme confidence in his ability. A confidence borne of years of physical conditioning and practice, practice, practice to the point where, like all great champions, he knows he is prepared for that moment and that time and there is no one that can beat him.
He has the appearance of a cold blooded assassin yet as soon as he speaks you know he is a kind and gentle man (I have never met him but that is my feeling). His tournament winning acceptance speeches are the epitome of class and grace. Equally so in defeat. If you listen to the color commentators he has the respect of everyone in and around the game of tennis.
If I were to sit down and list all the qualities I admire in a man in and out of the arena of competition Roger Federer possesses most of them. I am thankful he came along in my time.
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