Results for: “Sports & Recreation”
|Paula Young Lee||Travelers' Tales||ePub|
Blood and Guts
Lawyer Amanda Bonner: And after you shot your husband... how did you feel?
Defendant Doris Attinger: Hungry!
Adams Rib, 1949
Patrick lost another one in the dark and rain. He was very high up the mountain, where the terrain is steep and treacherous. Hed been tracking a buck and took a shot. The hit was fatal, but the kill wasnt instantaneous. Running after it, Patrick found bone, blood, and hair before the pounding rain washed the trace away. A weaker animal would have dropped in its tracks. Five friends came out the next morning to look for it, and all they found was the gut pile left by a stranger whod stumbled across it.
Is it poaching to take another mans quarry? Its not unusual for hunters to lose their animals in the forest. Humans stand out. Animals blend in. Within seconds, the wildlife can vanish, even if you know exactly where they are going. So if a hunter stumbles across a buck felled by another mans bullet, the right thing to do is to dress and hang the carcass, alert the game warden, and have a nice day. To walk off with the deer violates an unwritten code. Its the hunters version of the girl crush. A nice girl never steals a boy that her girlfriend likes. A tramp would hit on him just for fun, and steal him if she could. Its one of the ways you know shes a tramp. Sure, alls fair in love and warbut in real life, its not exactly true.See All Chapters
|Paula Young Lee||Travelers' Tales||ePub|
When Worlds Collide
Your salvation doesnt interest me. Mine does.
When Worlds Collide, 1951
Its my fathers eightieth birthday weekend. My brother, his wife, and their daughter are taking a red-eye flight from California and landing early on Saturday morning. They are staying in Wellesley for thirty-six hours, long enough to land, say hello, have dinner, and then they are fleeing back to Palo Alto. We have not been all together since my mother died fifteen years ago.
Am I thinking about this? No. I am trying to organize the freezer. The impending arrival of a thousand pounds of moose meat creates an acute space management problem. In 2000, according to the USDA, the national average consumption was 195 pounds of meat per person. One moose, then, feeds a family of four over the course of a year if you can figure out how to preserve it. One solution is jerky, but Id really rather not turn good meat into spicy strips of shoe leather.
If were lucky, well get a moose right away! John hollers cheerfully, and bounces down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the front door as fast as he can. Hes heading up to Maine. Its Friday night, meaning that hes got Saturday and Sunday to scout. On Monday, the moose season officially starts. He is also trying very hard to disappear before my family gets here. Families are just bigger versions of other peoples babies: theyre adorable until they start throwing tantrums and screaming. In my case, theyre screaming in Korean and sometimes French, depending on who shows up and the nature of the occasionsay, my sisters wedding. Nobody has a clue what the other person is saying, but theyre all saying it very LOUDLY.See All Chapters
|Planet, Lonely||Lonely Planet Publications||ePub|
Rodney Bay Gros Islet
Pigeon Island National Landmark
The Northern Tip
Western St Lucia
The South Coast
Understand St Lucia
Getting There Away
Rising like an emerald tooth from the Caribbean Sea, St Lucia definitely grabs your attention. While it fits the image of a glam honeymoon spot, this mountainous island has more to offer than sensuous beaches flanked by sybaritic lodgings.
Diving, snorkeling, sailing and kitesurfing are fabulous. On land there’s no better ecofriendly way to experience the rainforest-choked interior than on foot, on horseback or suspended from a zip line. Wildlife lovers will get a buzz, too. Whales, dolphins, turtles and endemic birds can easily be approached, with the added thrill of a grandiose setting. Near Soufrière, the awesomely photogenic Pitons rise from the waves like pyramids of volcanic stone.See All Chapters
|Geraldine Ellis Watson||University of North Texas Press|
Part Three, Day 1
River Mile 37.4
The morning after the storm, the canal was smooth and lovely, reflecting the still-green trees and the few maples and Chinese tallows which had begun to turn color. The bends are small compared to those of the Neches, and only the first few have sandbars. The canal was constructed in 1925 and, though it is artificial, it follows a series of sloughs and cypress swamps, so retains a natural configuration. One particular cypress swamp on the right is broad and deep and one can paddle about and explore it to some extent. I wanted to save my paddling arm for Cook’s Lake, however, so I passed it by.
One bend is especially wide where a slough from the interior of the island enters the canal and becomes like a lake. Daddy and I once came here fishing, and witnessed a sad sight. A mother with her two teenage children, a boy and a girl, had come to picnic and swim. The young people were splashing about in the shallow water near the shore when the girl slipped off into a deep hole. She couldn’t swim, so the brother jumped in to help and was dragged under also. The mother was almost drowned trying to save them, but managed to struggle to shore and go for help. Divers found the bodies while we were there and brought them to shore. Their limbs were frozen in that last moment when the muscles relaxed in unconsciousness and they drifted downward. The air in their lungs, mixed with blood and mucus, oozed out and formed exotic pink foam flowers about their mouths. The motherSee All Chapters
|Lonely Planet||Lonely Planet||ePub|
North Luzon, a region that invites intrepid exploration, encapsulates a nation in miniature. Machete-toting mountain tribes who are quick to smile and quicker to share their rice wine. Surfers racing waves onto sunny beaches. White-sand beaches lapped by teal waters. Impenetrable jungle hiding numerous endemic critters. Spanish colonial cities where sunlight breaks through seashell windows. Far-flung islands whose pristine landscapes greet very few visitors.
For many travellers, the main lures are the emerald rice terraces of the Cordillera, a mountain range that hides hanging coffins, mummified ancestors and the old ghosts of the forest. Trekking is a prime activity in this wild frontier, but caving, mountain biking and rafting are other adrenalin-fuelled activities that shape the experience of exploring North Luzon. Culturally, this is the Philippines at its most diverse, as the peoples of the mountains, Zambales, Ilocos and Batanes are notable for a mind-boggling melange of language and ritual. Yet a similarity is shared by all these groups: an unrelenting, almost overwhelming friendliness to guests.See All Chapters
|Geraldine Ellis Watson||University of North Texas Press|
Reflections on the Neches
shack was usually a tent on the last crib. When the raft hit land in the bend of the river, she saw that it was beginning to break apart and pile up, so she dived into the water and swam clear. That must have been an awesome sight: those great logs piling up like match sticks. She always told I. C. that if the river ever got low enough to expose the logs, he should pull them out, for they were virgin longleaf pine logs and would be as good as new due to submersion in the water. The year Saul Aronow, Ranger David McHugh, and
I canoed the upper Neches, it was lower than I had ever seen it and that was the year I. C. pulled out a good portion of the logs. The fence around his house on Highway 92 was made of hand-rived pales from these logs.
The river was the only way they could transport timber from the Neches watershed to the big lumber mills in Beaumont. Loggers would kill the trees by girdling them, wait a year for them to dry standing up, then cut them down with axes and two-man crosscut saws. Oxen and mules dragged the logs to the sloughs, then, when the winter floods came and water rose, the logs were floated. The main routes in the flooded bottomlands had the trees along them cut while the water was down, and they were called float roads. The logs were fastened with wooden pegs into cribs, or small rafts, and the cribs were connected by chains or ropes to make a long raft. The end of each log was struck with a sledge hammer that had a raised letter on it, thus branding the logs so the receiving mills would know to whom the logs should be credited. Perhaps the owner suspected some enterprising loggers might decide to sell a few logs on their own and pocket the proceeds.See All Chapters
|New World Library||ePub|
Let me tell you what I think of bicycling. I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world. It gives women a feeling of freedom and self-reliance. I stand and rejoice every time I see a woman ride by on a wheel…the picture of free, untrammeled womanhood.
— SUSAN B. ANTHONY, 1896
The safety bicycle became a craze in North America shortly after the 1888 invention of inflatable tires. It was an affordable personal vehicle, fast and freeing to ride. Unlike its predecessor, the high-wheel or penny-farthing, it didn’t place the rider high in the air, under constant threat of pitching forward when the front wheel hit a rock. And this newer, safer machine could be used by a rider in a skirt. It provided an unexpected boon to women, who were ready to seize new freedoms, both in personal mobility and in clothing.
The 1890s saw what we now call the first wave of modern feminism. The suffrage movement was in full swing; the dress-reform movement, after simmering for decades, was well on its way to bringing a women’s version of trousers to the mainstream; and the restrictive role to which women had been relegated for most of the Victorian period was being vigorously challenged.See All Chapters
|Mike Roos||Quarry Books||ePub|
At the edge of a large pasture on a bitterly cold, snow-covered Saturday morning in January 1961, David Small was hopping rapidly up and down on his toes in an effort to keep himself warm, while his father, Herman Small, worked on the guts of the family’s orange Allis-Chalmers tractor, which had turned recalcitrant while in process of clearing dead timber from the field. To ease his boredom, Dave squatted and put his hands into the six-inch-deep snow to compress some into a frozen ball. Then he rose up in the studied manner of a World Series pitcher, selected a fence post about fifty feet away as his catcher, and looked for a sign.
Curveball? Nope. Dave shook it off. Change-up? Dave shook that off too. Fastball? Dave nodded. Then, slowly and deliberately, he went into his windup, in the mode of Sandy Koufax, his hero, first stepping back with his right foot, in the process bringing both hands together and lifting them high over his head, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on his target, then turning his body, rearing his right knee to the level of his chest, and extending the leg as far forward as possible while pushing off with his powerful left leg to fire a blistering overhand fastball that struck the fence post dead in the center about knee high, leaving a small circle of powdered snow where it splattered.See All Chapters
|Christie, John||Down East Books||ePub|
The decade of the 1970s was to mark the emergence of Sugarloaf as a true “destination” resort in the finest sense of the word. To be a destination where skiers go to stay for an extended period of time, the resort must have all of the necessary amenities (lodging, food, entertainment, and shopping), and it must allow visitors to leave their automobiles behind. They need to be able to walk or be bused to wherever they want to go during their stay. It also requires that there be a sense of place—in Gertrude Stein’s words, “a there there”—populated by a community of people constituting a real town. The 1970s saw all of these needs met with an explosion of housing development on the Mountain and in the Valley, and the establishment of a real town with the incorporation of Carrabassett Valley in 1972.
The early years of the decade also served to remind everyone involved in the economics of the ski business, not only at Sugarloaf but elsewhere in the East, how fragile was the balance between success and failure, as both sparse snowfall and the first Arab oil embargo led to diminished traffic and a tenuous revenue stream.See All Chapters
|The Herald-Times||Indiana University Press||ePub|
Indiana Hoosiers guard Victor Oladipo (4) drives the ball on Notre Dame Fighting Irish guard Jerian Grant (22) during the Indiana Notre Dame men’s basketball game at Conseco Fieldhouse in game two of the Close the Gap Crossroads Classic in Indianapolis, Ind., Saturday, Dec. 17, 2011.
By Dustin Dopirak
Tom Crean doesn’t know what Derek Elston was thinking, and it’s hard to imagine anyone else could come up with a logical explanation either.
With the Hoosiers in a mad dash to get the ball down the floor for one more shot at the end of the first half of Saturday’s game against Notre Dame, Elston pulled up from about half-court for a desperation heave. That would’ve been fine if there weren’t 4.5 seconds still left on the clock.
But on a play that was strangely indicative of Indiana’s entire day, freshman guard Remy Abell bolted under the bucket and put back Elston’s wild miss at the buzzer to give Indiana a 26-20 lead at the half.
“Maybe he saw what Christian (Watford) saw last week with 0.8,” Crean said, referring to Watford’s buzzer-beater that knocked off No. 1 Kentucky. “I don’t know. It looked more to me like it said 4.5 or somewhere in there, and he didn’t see that. But the presence of mind of Remy was just fantastic.”See All Chapters
|Thomas P Oates||Indiana University Press||ePub|
David J. Leonard, Sarah Ullrich-French, and Thomas G. Power
THE DEBATE ABOUT EXERGAMING OFTEN APPEARS IN headlines such as “Can Wii Games Replace Regular Exercise?” and “Is the Wii Fit Better than Regular Exercise?”1 In this regard, virtual gaming has been reduced to a binary, a mathematical formula that treats participants as universal subjects and analyzes how well the games transport those bodies into virtual space. It reflects on whether these games have real-life impact on the universal game subject and how these virtual activities compare to their real-life brethren. Take one study from the American Council on Exercise, which after testing sixteen participants on six of Wii’s most challenging games – Free Run, Island Run, Free Step, Advanced Step, Super Hula Hoop, and Rhythm Boxing – concluded that virtual reality was distinctively different from the real world, in that twice as many calories were burned with the real “thing.” Emblematic of much of the discourse, the adherence to the virtual-real binary and its conceptualization of all participants as having equal access and opportunity demonstrate the shortcomings of the discourse surrounding virtual exercise.2 Furthering the establishment of this dualistic framework, the discourse focuses on the caloric impact–energy expenditure rates of virtual exercise games; it works to understand if exergaming is a substitute for real-world exercise. Yet there has been little effort to measure the impact of games on the physical body (core strength, balance) and, more important, the impact of games on identity, knowledge about fitness, health, and nutrition. In the end, these studies, more than the games themselves, disembody people and fail to look at how games change people in a myriad of ways, from the physical to the mental, from identity to self-worth.See All Chapters
|New World Library||ePub|
It used to be true, what motorists have always suspected: when I get on my bike, a switch goes off in my brain, and consideration for anyone else ceases to exist. Each morning, amped on fresh air and adrenaline, I used to ride to work with a simple goal: to make it to work without stopping, or at least without putting a foot down. That’s why I ran a red light and found myself in the middle of an intersection with a MUNI bus barreling toward me from the right. The bus came so close that I avoided a crash only by turning to ride with it, so intimately that I felt the kiss of steel along my right side. The bus driver slammed on his brakes, stuck his head out his side window, looked me right in the terrified eye, and yelled, “Asshole!” “Screw you!” I shouted back. “No, screw you!” he screamed, and stomped on the gas. The morning commuters on board lurched violently; those who managed to keep their footing glared at me malevolently. The other motorists at the intersection gave me the universal sign of disappointment: the baleful shake of the head. The bike traffic kept rolling, one bicyclist tossing me a sympathetic “MUNI drivers suck!” over his messenger bag. I laughed it off with relief and kept riding; just your average morning commute on Market Street.See All Chapters
|Edited by Kenneth L. Untiedt||University of North Texas Press|
|Ron Tatum||University of North Texas Press||ePub|
Going It Alone
That experience on the mountain taught me a lesson that comes in handy as a horseshoer. Up there, hanging off the cliff, I was alone. No one was going to save me or get me out of that spot. Just me. Horseshoeing is a lot like that. I don’t mean that shoeing horses is facing death every day, but it’s an occupation that you do mostly by yourself. There is no one to bail you out when you get in trouble. If you run into a seemingly impossible task with no obvious way out, you need to find the way on your own. No one is going to rescue you.
Horseshoers choose to wear no one’s uniform but their own, and those who survive the first year of horseshoeing (70 percent of first-year shoers drop out), prefer it that way. We’re often called independent cusses.
In most occupations there is a continuous system of education, training, and what you might call “mentoring.” A plumber or an electrician will undergo a period of training or education and then will usually go to work in a job where there is ongoing supervision. Once in the field, most workers will learn from their contacts with the boss and from other workers.See All Chapters
|The Herald-Times||Indiana University Press||ePub|
Indiana Hoosiers forward Christian Watford (2) is fouled by Butler Bulldogs forward Khyle Marshall (23) as he attempts to dunk the ball during the Indiana Butler men’s basketball game at Assembly Hall in Bloomington, Ind., Sunday, Nov. 27, 2011.
By Dustin Dopirak
It is standard procedure to describe sixth men as catalysts, to speak of them providing sparks or injections of energy and scoring.
But as much as Indiana sophomore swingman and first man off the bench Will Sheehey sparked the Hoosiers on Sunday night, he also steadied them during what was unquestionably the most turbulent stretch of basketball the Hoosiers have played this year. In large part because of Sheehey, the Hoosiers never trailed during a slump of 10 minutes and 21 seconds without a field goal. He finished with a career-high 21 points, helping Indiana hold off a gritty Butler squad and run away with a 75-59 win in front of 17,265 at Assembly Hall on Sunday night.
The game served as the de facto championship game of the Hoosier Invitational, a round-robin event that included IU, Butler, Chattanooga, Savannah State and Gardner-Webb but did not have a tournament setup. Indiana (6-0) claimed a trophy for the victory, however, and Sheehey was named tournament MVP.See All Chapters