Happy is an understatement

Recently, I applied to be the Styling Director of CLUTCH Magazine, the largest and recognizable magazine on campus, and have been hoping I got it. Of course, before the past and present Editor-in-chief could make their decision on who would get the position they held interviews with all the candidates. My interview went incredibly well, they enjoyed all of my ideas for fashion stories for the magazine and were impressed at the fact that I already had experience in being a styling from my involvement with Diverse World Fashion (another fashion club on campus). Once the interview was over, they told me I should know If I got it either Thursday or Friday, so until then I patiently (lol thats a lie I was a nervous wreck) awaited for the results.

On Friday afternoon, I got a notification on my computer about a new email and saw the words "2013 CLUTCH Director results!"I literally stopped breathing. I told myself if I didn't get the position I had my own permission to cry but I told myself it wouldn't be the end of the world. Then I thought, "What if I do get it?" And at that exact moment I opened the email, scrolled past all the jibber jabber to get right to it, the results. I scanned for the words "Styling Director" only to be met by my name right beside it. I shrieked and started to dance happily all across my dorm room. This literally was the happiest I have been since being at FSU just because this is what I've wanted from the beginning, to be involved with CLUTCH. Now, just a few more years till I can work my way up to Creative Director... ;)

I cracked my Photobucket password!

Okay, so for the past few years I've been trying to crack the password to my Photobucket account. You see I have saved a lot and VERY old photos on this account and I've been meaning to look at them but for some reason I just couldn't remember my password. So, today, I decided to figure out my password and I actually figured it out in less than a minute. I was thankful it didn't take too long. Once I was in, I didn't leave for about an hour. I literally just sat on my bed looking at old pictures feeling nostalgic as ever.
I was a tad bit sad when I looked over these photos because it reminded me of how much simpler my life was and how I didn't have to worry about too many things back then. And then I felt thankful because I was able to live through that time and in way it prepared me for the obstacles I face today and the obstacles I'll face in the future.

The next few weeks...

are going to be HECTIC.

Yes, I know typical teenage girl in college thinking her life is about to collapse on top of her and suffocate but really it is. After a long, stress free Thanksgiving break I am now bombarded with the reality of how much schoolwork and extracurricular work I need to get done before the semester ends. Okay, lets start from with what is due tomorrow. I am currently applying to be the Styling director for CLUTCH Magazine, one of the major fashion magazine publications on campus, and I have to put together at least 5-6 concept boards for my interview. Since I am a perfectionist, it takes a while for me to fully be satisfied with my boards but in the end they come out just as I want it. I guess being a perfectionist is both a blessing and a curse. Anyways, it's just been nonstop work for me to put together these concept boards while balancing writing my final paper for my ENC1145 class which is suppose to be due today but I'm not quite sure if anyone in my class knows it...lol.

Okay, now I have a College Algebra quiz due in two days and I have to start studying for my final because I need to make sure I have an A in that class. I am aiming for a 4.0 this semester and I would love to achieve it. On top of this, my Brain and Behavior test is next week and I'm freaking out because it is alot of information to remember and learn. But, hey I think...no I know I'll be fine but once I am done with everything and get home I am going to treat myself to some frozen yogurt and an American Horror Story marathon on Netflix. I can't wait.

Noles versus Gators

Over this past Thanksgiving break, the FSU v UF game, the most anticipated football game on campus, took place and attracted fans from both sides to Tallahassee. You see, there is a divide in my house, my sister went to UF whereas I, obviously, go to FSU. Let's just say, there was a whole lot of smack talk going between us before the game started. And of course, once the Gators won I did hear a whole mouthful from my sister but knowing me if we won I would've done the same.

The final score for the FSU v UF game was 37-26. Where the Gators played smart was in their defense in which their linebacker Morrison hit our quarterback EJ Manuel and knocked the ball loose in which one of the Gators team player's recovered the ball. From this point, the Gators played the game smartly and resulted with a win that caused devastation to Seminole fans across the country. It was a sad day for Seminoles but just wait till next year when we beat UF!!! Go Noles!

Thanksgiving Memory

This past Thanksgiving, I have to say, was the best Thanksgiving I've had in while. For one, it was my nephew's first Thanksgiving so we all got to see him in his "My first Thanksgiving" outfit and take a ridiculous amount of photos with him. I just couldn't stop, he's just too cute! Secondly, my mom cooked the best turkey she has ever made. It was perfectly seasoned and the skin (my favorite part!) was cooked well and added great flavor to the meat. Ugh, I'm getting hungry just by talking about it. Another reason why this Thanksgiving was the best is because after three months of being in Tallahassee away from my friends and family, I finally got to be home and surround myself with the people I missed the most.

It was defiantly refreshing to eat a home cooked meal once I got home for Thanksgiving break. It was crazy, my mom basically cooked me everything I wanted and once it was Thanksgiving I was happily bombarded by large amounts of food I would probably regret eating later. This Thanksgiving was one of the happiest moments in my life this year due to the fact I was able to spend time with friends and family I've missed like crazy over the last few months. 

This is for all my Politicians...

I can include political views in my adbuster by relating it to women's rights and Title 9. Just in case you forgot, my adbuster is on women in sports and how they are degraded by the little to nothing uniforms they agree to wear. I can say that women in sports are not equally as respected as men in sports but they continue to fight for it. Women have to work much harder to become known in the sports world whereas men don't really have to try. Also, how women athletes do not get paid the same amount as their male counterparts. It's overall unfair for female athletes and no one really cares because females in sports don't have much of a following except for a few exception of course like Venus and Serena Williams.

I'm going to continue to research and look for more points to make in my adbuster that is political related.

Ads men vs women LEVEL
athletes that is successfull BUT A WOMEN compared to an athlete that is male not as successful

Lance Armstrongs final farewell from Livestrong

Due to the recent scandal with the truth of his past doping use, Lance Armstrong has not only lost a great deal of respect in society, he has now lost his seven Tour de France titles and his ties with Livestrong, the charity he founded 15 years ago while fighting testicular cancer. On November 4th, he resigned from Livestrong's board of directors in which before he stepped down as the chairman. He attempted to distance himself from the charity to try to protect it from any damage due to his doping controversy but it proved to work not as well Armstrong wish it did.

The United States Anti-Doping Agency made their evidence public of its doping case against Armstrong which in turn he was barred from Olympic sports for life and now stripped of all cycling titles. Honestly, I feel as this punishment is a little bit extreme for Lance. It's cliche to severely punish Lance for this when most of the men in this sport are doping and it's known by almost everyone who watches and is involved in the sport. Yes I understand Lance is a huge figure in sports and for health therefore the fact he was doping contradicts the very thing he was promoting, that doesn't mean he should be stripped of all the titles he has worked hard for. In the end, Lance Armstrong helped raise $500 million dollars through his charity so he shouldn't be looked at as a bad person because of a mistake; he is still a good man. People are so quick to overlook the good with the bad and hope maybe one day Lance Armstrong would be given back his titles and the respect many people lost for him.

Adbuster TAKE TWO

SEXUALITY AND DEGRADATION OF WOMEN IN SPORTS

INSPRITATION FOR MY ADBUSTER

For my adbuster, I'vve chosen to do like a collage of women tennis players in skimpy outfits and maybe touching upon how they're degraded in their sport through the clothing they wear whether they choose to wear it or not. 

ADBUSTER

An adbuster is formally defined as  the practice of making spoofs or parodies of corporate and political advertisements in order to make a statement. When I think f making an adbuster a few ideas pop into my head. One of the ideas is to maybe play on the fat that women sports are not as watched and respected as male sport except for the female dominated sports like tennis and volleyball which men degrade as well because the otfits are skimpier. Men claim they only watch these "women sports" for the point of watching them in tiny outfits bouncing around. I'm not sure how i would expand on this concept into an adbuster but maybe I could place a photo of a naked women with soccer, football, and other sport balls covering her body. I'll most likely expand on this concept as I think of it further but I believe this could go a certain way which could make a statement.

Another idea for an adbuster would be about Lance Armstrong and his recent demise with the whole doping scandal. I believe I could make a great point in this adbuster not only about Lance Armstrong and his doping scandal, but the overall doping problem in professional sports. I could maybe get a picture of Lance on his bike but replace the bike parts with syringes and highlight the "Livestrong" Logo to showcase the hypocritical aspect of it. I can even expand on this idea and do a Jose Canseco one in which his bat is replaced with a syringe. 

I'm excited to expand on these ieas and can't wait to share with you all my final idea and product!

It's not crazy...It's sports.

Recently, I watched the ESPN commercial about an ordinary man who shares the name of a superstar and the disappointment of the people around him when they find out the truth. Below I've attached the video:

Honestly, I found this commercial actually very funny to watch and clever of the directors to utilize this concept because in reality many people have the names of stars and when they do go out everyone is disappointed to find out they are not who their names set them out to be. One thing I'm not sure about this commercial is what it's actually promoting and how the line "It's not crazy...It's sports" has to do with the concept of the commercial. Even though this is a great concept for a commercial, I feel as if it failed to promote ESPN and the tag line but it did succeed in generating a great viral video that does reach a younger audience such as myself!

I had the best morning ever.

That's a lie. I couldn't put into a few short words how miserable, depressing, and just down-right horrible my morning was. I should've known from the start that today was going to start off bad the instance I woke up in a pool of vomit that belonged to my ailing dog along with the constant buzzing of my alarm clock which was two, TWO, hours late...now how did that happen? First I was confused, then I was angry, and then...I just got up and did the only thing I could do; take a shower and throw on my work clothes. Oh, but the bad luck didn't stop there. I walked out only to notice a closet with only one piece of clothing hanging from the rack; a bright red cape with crystal piping. It was part of my Halloween costume in 08' and trust me for one second there I actually contemplated throwing it on and making my way down 5th avenue with not one care in the world. But no I decided to sneak into my roommates room and just snatch one of her outfits, I knew she wouldn't miss it. I was already 2 and a half hours late but my stomach reached the point in which it was basically eating itself; I was starving. As I walked to the fridge, I imagined grabbing my leftovers from the other night but once I opened the fridge both me and my stomach were dissappointed. Nothing but one slice of aged American cheese stuck to the bottom of the trays was left in my fridge. I stood in front of my fridge for a good minute until it really sunk in that I had absolutely no food to eat. So, I did a quick prayer and picked up the cheese and ate it like it was a five-star meal. Too bad I immediatley threw up once the cheese entered my mouth. Hey, you can't blame a girl for trying?

I was already two and a half hours late so I ran down the stares of my apartment complex and once I got down to the street I made an attempt to flag down a taxi. And it worked. This was the moment when I thought my luck was starting to "look up" as some might say; oh boy was I wrong. I told the taxi driver to "step on it" and he did. He was going a little too fast but that didn't stop this one beat up honda to cut us off and almost cause us to have an accident. My life didn't even flash before my eyes, the only thing on my mind was, "I'm defintly going to get fired." Ten minutes later I finally reached my desk at work only to see one red note in the middle of my stacks of work that read, "Come see me, ASAP -Trudy"I lugged my feet to my boss' door while I thought to myself, "I'm defintly getting fired" so I knocked on her door and twisted the doorknob with the little faith I had into thinking I was keeping my job. "You're fired." My toes weren't even in the door when I heard these two words...way to rip the bandaid right off Trudy. "Yeah I'm sorry we're having major cuts and your position didn't make it...On the bright side though, you can have the rest of my bagel!" She sat there smiling believing her own bullshit that I couldn't possibly be as mad right now because she offered me her bagel! Oh, how sweet of her seriously right after I'm told I'm fired I just love a good 2 hour old bagel...HALF a bagel I mean, it's not even a full bagel!! So I did what any normal person did and told her to shove that half bagel up hers while I proceeded to flip every piece of furniture in her office. Okay, I'm not the strongest person so I might of just kicked a few things since they were too heavy to flip and just screamed out random curse words because I couldn't think of anything witty to say to her. It was a train wreck.

Remember the Titans

The general gist of the sports film Remember the Titans (based on a true story) is that it chronicles the story of a newly appointed African-America coach and his high school team on their first season as a racially integrated unit. I've labeled this film as my favorite sports film because of how it is inspirational, deals with race, and generally pulled my heartstrings and led me to cry every other scene. I'm a sucker for movies who make me cry.

Remember the Titans is a true underdog story that follows the general hollywood cinema formula for making a good movie that the majority of Americans will watch. This formula usually comprises of the use of underdogs, racial and sex role conflicts, love, inspirational, and the list goes on. Basically, Hollywoods formula to making a blockbuster is using anything that allows the viewer to escape into a false reality that may or may not be better then the reality they're in now. That is why I believe Remember The Titans was so successful in the box office because it has all the aspects of a typical Hollywood movie that average American eats up. 

Slumdog Millionaire

Whenever someone asks me what my all-time favorite movie is, Slumdog Millionaire is always the first movie that comes to mind. I can easily remember the first time I watched this movie. It wasn't in the movie theaters, or in my living room on my TV, I watched it on my 10-inch wide screen Dell laptop through the use of online streaming. (Okay, it may or may not have been completely legal at the time...) You see even though I was watching it on my laptop I still wanted the whole effect of being in a movie theater, so I turned off the lights in my room, sat next to a large bucket of freshly popped popcorn and cranked the volume on my laptop to the loudest it could go. It was then when I was drawn in by the initial scene of an Indian man as a contestant on the Indian version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. Then from there it cut to his life as a child living in the slums and the obstacles he reached along the way which, as a result, led him to be on a contestant on the famous show, only to be one question away from becoming the epitome of a Rags to Riches story.

I guess it's true; Everyone loves a Rags to Riches story. it doesn't matter if every movie that uses this archetype basically follows the same storyline is fairly predictable, everyone still pays money to go and see it. Doesn't matter if it's the same story, we keep on going back to the movie theatre to experience the same feeling of watching this certain type of movie. It makes us feel good and escape from our present day issues. This is why movies continues to produce revenue because the average people across America need a place to escape and fall into a false reality in which they wish was their actual lives. Not only does this movie include a Rags to Riches story, it includes a "forbidden love" storyline in which the main character, Jamal Malik, from the beginning (since he was a young boy to be specific) was chasing after the love of his life, Latika, but at every point in his life in which he finds her something is preventing him from being with her. Of course, in the end, like any other movie, he gets the girl, the money, and the "Dream". And it is for this Slumdog Millionaire is my favorite movie. I'm a sucker for happy endings and I did cry at the end of this movie not only because I was happy but I was sad it ended. For some reason, in those two hours I thought I was apart their lives but as a stranger looking on from a distance. Once it was over It was back to reality and I didn't necessarily enjoy that feeling. This is why whenever a similar type of movie comes out I go see it because I want to experience the same feeling i felt throughout watching Slumdog Millionaire.

Trigger.

It was in the fall of 2010 when I first dug my brand new spikes into my high school's freshly coated, red track. Man, was I excited. No, I was more than excited, I was ecstatic. I enjoyed the thought of being on a team as well as being apart of something bigger and better than me. You could say I fell in love with the idea of Track as a sport right then and there; this is where it all began, where my love for playing one sport turned into pure hate.

I'm a competitor and a damn good one at that. In any sport or game I participate in, I throw in my 110%, and nothing less. I make sure to win and if I fail to do that I pick myself up and make sure I win the next time. For some reason though, during my time as a varsity track player, I lost my will to win and my determination to leave my competitors in the dust while I cross that finish line without breaking a sweat. I simply lost it. Now whenever I feel the late night breeze of fall I get flashbacks to my time on the track right before a race. It's crazy how one thing could trigger your senses and take you back in time to a major event in your life. Yet, in my case, it takes me back to a certain time frame. Once I feel a cool, slightly damp breeze brush against my skin, I feel as if I'm on my high school's track with my black and gold uniform on, my hair tightly pulled back into a ponytail and my shiny silver spikes on my feet. Even though it's not  real, I still feel the same anxiety of the race run through my body and somehow I look up to see my team in the bleachers watching me with looks of hope, happiness, and sometimes boredom. How is it that even in my flashbacks I still feel the same amount of pressure and disgust I felt when I actually played the game? I wish the weather didn't trigger me back into this memory.  I didn't enjoy being the lead hurdler in my track team, nor didn't I enjoy listening to my competitors spit smack to me as I ran to the finish line.

It's funny though how I dispise this memory so much whereas one of my good friends, who was a fellow hurdler, cherishes these dreams. I remember her before our races literally screaming with enjoyment and excitement to get in the game while I was in the back dreading my participation in the race. My friend took this sport seriously and developed a true love for it while I was looking for my way out. And I'm glad I did, because I rather cheer for her in the bleachers then be right beside her expressing complete dread.

We all need answers, we just don't know if they're the right ones.

As I write this, I am sitting at table staring at my screen with a White Chocolate Mocha Latte from Starbucks in my hand wondering how I am going to properly articulate the two pieces I just read into words. Truthfully, I'm still not sure, therefore, I'm just going to do what I always do and just, simply, write.

The first piece I read was called "The End of Practice" by Rodney Jones. It chronicles one mans struggle to reach the complete "male dream" while explaining his surroundings in gory yet in depth detail. The piece begins with Jones stating that he, as a man dreams, of "harnessing and exacting irrevocable power over others", a dream desired by most men in the world, but lacks that same power in the present and faces the fact that another man holds the power he yearns for the most. And in this case of the poem, that man is his coach. His coach is the one that controls his team, making them run laps, race to the death, and compete like their lives depended on it. The author longs for this power but throughout the poem he realizes that the gap between his hand and his grasp on it slowly, but surely, gets larger and larger; restricting him from reaching the ultimate male dream that's surrounded by a need for supremacy in the present world. One thing I found quite interesting in the poem is the way Jones tells this story and depicts the characters attempts to reach their goals but all in separate ways. Yet, only one, yes only one of these men can ultimately win at this game and/or sport of life. The one thing that puzzles me is the last line of the poem which read, "and, while this came pass, monks in Asia soaked their robes in gasoline and burned alive for peace." I don't understand while this relates back to the big picture of the poem. Does it relate because those monks reached the complete control and power of themselves in which contrasts with the fact that the author and generally most men don't reach that ultimate control and power. Is it suppose to contrast these ideas? Or, does it mean something different? I'm not sure and it's truthfully bugging me how I cant grasp the concept of this closing line. 

Klosterman's "33" is the piece I read next. On the surface, this essay depicts the general idea as the conflict between the Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics throughout the 1980's and the strong following it brought on. On a much deeper level, this essay equates the rivalry between the Lakers and the Celtics as a reflection on the 80's culture and ideas; stating the fact that the true reason behind him favoring the Celtics is because he liked "his dad team" in which he discovered he was actually "rooting for the Republican Party". Klosterman truly believed that through the way the basketball players played  (with their heart and not their minds) and the influence of their coaches that each teams ideal trickled down into their present day culture and debates. Yet only this theory can be applied to 80's basketball and not to present day's basketball based on the fact that today players play as if they're robots focusing on 3 goals, and three goals only; money, fame, and success. Whereas in the past, players based their performances on their passion for the sport and their desire to win the game for the sake of their team and fans. It wasn't based on economic success as it is today. Therefore, the ability for culture to trickle into basketball, and vice versa, is based on the players, along with their coaches, subconscious intentions. 

The idea of the combination of sport and community, to me, does in fact create a culture based on the simple fact that once a major sporting event is hosted or widely celebrated in your town the whole community gathers together to form a connection among the community which leads to a defining culture. It is this culture that is highly influenced by sports and the community that follows it because of the politics along with the entertainment associated with it. In regards to the poem, this combination defiantly defines the community in which the men surround their lives with the dream of reaching ultimate power and in an attempt to reach it they turn to sports as their outlet, yet once (or if) they fail their attitudes change and their outlook on life and personal preferences change and in response to this the culture alters to the building and ever changing views of the men of society. Culture defines us because we define culture. When we make our decisions on who we support or on any other major question, it builds our culture as a whole and consequently affects others personal culture as well. We also base our decisions, morals, and ideals on whats accepted as well as what is not accepted by our culture. We form a culture based on the foundation of each individuals thought process. I highly believe that it's the way that we define ourselves and how others define us that greatly affects the meaning of our culture and the backbone to the combination of sports and community. I also believe it defines us more as a whole rather than in certain parts. This is because the way we view ourselves usually deals with the bigger picture rather than our individual flaws or perfections. As humans, we both actively try to accept and escape from these definitions we put ourselves in and what others place us in. It is the natural order of things and in turn this affects the creation of our culture and the meaning behind it. In my personal experiences, the way others define me affects the way I define myself. When others inform me on how they view me, I take those opinions to heart and then look into myself to figure if its true; whether it be bad or good. 

Overall, I found both articles interesting yet I still faced some questions that myself, and a few of my friends, fail to answer. Therefore, I plan on asking these questions during my next ENC1145 class with the intentions of being faced with the answer I desperately want answered. But for now I guess I will close up shop and end this blog entry in the hopes of reaching a complete understanding of these two articles and the relation between the, 

Dear Manny "Cop out" Pacquiao,

You see, I am a huge boxing fan. And when I say huge I mean HUGE boxing fan. I don't mess around when it comes to expected fights so I don't necessarily appreciate you consistently push back the day you want to fight Floyd "Money" Mayweather. Not one bit. Don't just claim you have the cajones to fight the undefeated boxer who recently just plowed into the infamous Miguel Cotto (one of your biggest competitors) and then keep on pushing back the supposed "final" dates of the fight. I mean, you shouldn't be afraid right? I'm just looking for a fight! One better than the Mayweather vs. Cotto fight...
Okay, I'm not quite sure you're capable of giving a bigger and better fight (no disrespect of course) because come on yo have been dragging lately. You've officially passed your prime. But, hey, who wouldn't want to see a fight between two men passed their golden years fight to the death. So, in your best interests, decide on a set date for this fight! Your fans (not me I just want to watch you lose) are counting on you! Mr. Money Mayweather is waiting. It's impolite to make people wait.

xo,
Naomi

Spectators VERSUS Participants

In the past hour I have read the multiple similarities and differences between participants and spectators in the world of sports. While reading the text on this topic, a wide array of questions popped into my head; even some I have asked myself before. These questions varied from, "What is the true relation between participants and spectators in sports? Is there even a relationship?" to "Do more people participate in a particular sport rather than watch it? And do people watch a particular sport  more than they participate in it?" By asking myself these questions, I managed to come to an understanding of the topic and even come up with a few answers myself. Therefore, I say for you to go ahead and ask yourself these questions and see what you come up with. Difficult right? I mean, yes, you already grasp the fact that all participants are spectators whereas not all spectators are participants and this is a good thing. But, over the years the line between spectators and participants has blurred dramatically. This has made it harder and harder for myself, and I'm sure for others as well, to completely agree that there is a true difference between the two.  Don't get me wrong, I understand that one plays the sport while the other one watches, but I feel on a deeper level the two coincide where the participant is the spectator looking for a way to better himself as an athlete. Or when the spectator becomes the athlete, whether it be a child whose a crazed baseball fan signing up for pee-wee or a 60 year-old man finally deciding to take up golf lessons because he's tired of sitting on his ass and watching it from his television. It's all universal to me. Spectator, Participant, blah, blah, blah, it all seems the same to me in a way that they both partake in their chosen sport may it be recreationally or professionally, they're both apart of the sport in one way or another.

Sports fanatics, participants, athletes, professionals, spectators, enthusiasts, or whatever you like to call them all share one common factor: undeniable love for their sport. One cannot deny the fact that both spectators and participants engross themselves in their designated sport and nothing else. It is a way of life for them, as if it were the one thing that kept them alive. For instance, when i was a varsity player on the track team, I lived, breathed, and surrounded myself with running. I didn't stop for anyone. Like the article states, I became obsessed with the feeling of winning, encouragement, and positive reinforcement in which I received from the sport. And by me participating in track I started to watch it more and more while taking up a serious interest in watching it. To this day, I continue to watch it for personal entertainment even though I don't run competitively anymore. I guess once you are apart of a team and establish a connection to a certain sport, you turn to other outlets to be apart of that sport again and gain new bounds with teams and players within that same sport. I see it as a way to fill that empty void in the pit of your stomach once you go through the withdrawals from either playing or watching your sport of choice.

Whether you believe of a true seperation between participants and spectators or of an unclear distinction between the two, it is universally understood that these two factors are what drive the popularity of sports as a whole. Without either participants or spectators, sports wouldn't thrive and most likely wouldn't exist at all. Now who would want that?

One Essay. One Poem. Two Meanings.

I have dedicated the past couple of hours reading and analyzing the essay by Chuck Klosterman called "Three-Man Weave", along with a poem by James Wright called "Autumn Begins in Martin Ferry, Ohio". And I have to say; I am very inspired and dying to read more. 

First, I'll begin with the essay the "Three-Man Weave". Posted on the sports and popular culture website, Grantland.com, Three-Man weave chronicles the underdog story that took place in North Dakota in 1988 between two schools that, according to the article, you've (probably) never heard of. Yet, to the author Chuck Klosterman, this basketball game went down as the "greatest sporting event [he] ever witnessed." You must be wondering how a barely recorded basketball game between two unknown competitors became Klosterman's all-time greatest sporting event he has seen in his lifetime. I mean, even I questioned it at first. How could this miniscule basketball game compare to all the other major-league sporting events that take place across the nation? Once I read that the winning team, The United Tribes Thunderbirds, won with only three players on the floor in the last 66 seconds (making it 3 on five) with a score of 84-81. Shocking right? I know to me it was. I couldn't fathom the dedication and the drive it took for these players (who lost their star player, Barry Webster, due to him fouling out in the last few minutes of the game) to win this game. It opened my eyes even more to the fact that nothing is impossible. 

Although much shorter, the poem by James Wright, "Autumn Begins in Martin Ferry, Ohio" still had the same affect on me as did the essay. This poem chronicles one man's outlook on fall and the type of atmosphere that surrounds the local high-school football games. This poem, in my opinion, shows the struggles in which the working class in the small town of Martin Ferry, Ohio, must look towards the talented, athletic youth of their town in hopes of, one day, having one diamond-in-the-rough become their shining jewel that makes it out of their small town to the big leagues. Yet, there is a cycle of those once celebrated and worshiped youth who fail to make it to the big time and fall into the jobs of their fathers of the working class; now waiting on someone of a younger generation to accomplish a dream they failed to complete. It's sad in a way that the "proud fathers" who once had a dream and expectations now rely on their "suicidally beautiful" sons to fulfill their personal dreams. This entire poem contrasts their present lives to the past expectations of their old lives. The only thing that these men can hold onto are the fond memories of their "golden years" in which they revisit to temporarily forget about their present situation. Memory becomes the key to their drive to push for the next generation to reach their expectations and goals. 

Basketball and football are both one the most watched and played sports in the nation. Almost everyone that lives in the USA know what basketball and football are and what they represent. On a universal level it's harder to determine the popularity and knowledge among other countries and cultures. Although there are different variations of the sport across the world, the concept of Basketball is universally understood. For instance, some spin-off games such as Korfball, Netball, and Slamball all derive from basketball and use the same techniques and skills you would use in basketball; they're just variations of the sport. Basketball's popularity in America compared to its popularity in other countries on a national level is noticeably very different. In America, Basketball is a sport many people cherish, worship, and watch religiously because of the culture built upon it in the past 100+ years. Whereas, in other countries basketball is not really recognized as a major sport on a higher level than the regular past time you would play in your spare time. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying other countries don't have serious basketball teams or don't respect the sport as much as we do in America, I'm only saying that the following of the sport in America is so much more stronger than the following in other countries. In the sense, this is not the same for Football. There are so many sports that use the word "football" in it's name such as American football, Association football, Australian rules football, Canadian football, rugby league, etc. There are so many forms of the sport that makes it universal in the sense that people all around the world experience and enjoy the sport. It may or may not be the same form of football, but it's still football. Now is American Football as popular as it is in the USA in England? No, not one bit. This is because England's form of football, rugby, is regionally played and celebrated more in England than American football is. 

Now back to the two pieces of works. Both the essay and poem deal with the topic of nostalgia and memory; these two factors play a major role in each work. In the poem, it is nostalgia and memory that haunts the failed youth of the small town of Martin Ferry, Ohio, yet it is that same nostalgia and memory that allows for that failed youth to remain at peace in their past in order to follow the new generations journey to their dreams. Whereas, in the essay, nostalgia and memory plays a major role in the ability of the men who played in the game to remember the exact number of points they individually   scored. Memory is what allows the losing team's coach to remember the game he disappointedly lost without hesitation. And nostalgia is what allows for the star player, Barry Webster, to proudly express his self-admiration for contributing to such a big win for his team. Not only are nostalgia and memory important in these two pieces, but also they're very important in sports as a whole. These two things are what drive the following behind sports all across the globe. Most people's fondest memories include some sort of variation of sports and in addition to this they usually equate it to a time of leisure, easiness, and pure and outright fun. Our love of sports is driven by our memories and the nostalgia that follows those memories. 

The re-tellings both in the essay and the poem, in my opinion, define a culture. I say this because globally we all live in the same culture, the human culture. All around the world people fail or accomplish their dreams. Along with this, people talk about a past defining moment till the day they die with no regrets. It's a culture done across the globe, not just regionally. Before, I thought to myself and asked the question, "What do people do with these memories?" Now, I understand that people do so many different things with their memories. For example, they form new memories off of their old ones; they recite them to others to share the experience, and so much more. 

To be a little bit off track, yet not really, in a few days I'm going to start my first college essay. I'm a bit frightened but, hey, if I could get through the last few grueling years of AP English I'm sure I can get through my English class. Well, I sure hope so. Anyways, to be brief, this essay has to be on my first account with sports and how it affected me in (I think) anyway possible. After reading both pieces, I've come to the conclusion that I will be closely relating my experience with the poem and working it into my essay as much as possible. For some reason I related more to the poem than I did the essay. I guess the poem inspired me more and made me think harder because of all its possible meanings. I also probably relate more to the poem because I too wish I could've been a star athlete when I was younger. Although it wasn't a main goal of mine or not even something that I lose sleep over nowadays, I still wish I could’ve been apart of a team. And because of this I now will make sure my nephew will be put into sports so he can experience the one thing I never fully engaged in, and in my opinion, that is what the poem is all about; which is to take from your past failures and mistakes and guide the younger generation to success. I would take advantage of the concept of memory and nostalgia that play a major theme in both pieces and work it into my essay. In addition to this, I would maybe incorporate another one of my favorite poems into my essay in order to give it a variation in structure or I would distance myself from the norm and write out of my comfort zone in order express some things about my experiences with sports that I would never have written about before. In my first real college paper I want to branch out and incorporate content from the papers, magazines, etc. This is one thing I've barely done in the past and want to do in the present. I hope it all works for the best.

"Dad, what are they doing?"

         I would say I was around nine years old when I first laid my eyes on a real, down and dirty, to the death, "no prisoners taken" type of boxing match. It was on a Saturday evening when I vividly remember jumping down the stairs playing the beloved "hot-lava" game making sure to land on every other step to dodge getting burned. Once I reached the last step, I heard shouting coming from the family room and background noise of what sounded like an automated voice with just an extra oomph of enthusiasm. All of a sudden I forgot why I came downstairs and proceeded to follow the noise that was bellowing from the other room. Once I reached the room, the deafening sounds did not compare to the physical movements my father and his three friends were performing.
         My father was on his feet with one hand in the air while the other pointed at the television. His jaw was completely dropped as if he wanted to say something but no words came out and the only emotion that read off of his face was rage. Meanwhile, two of his friends were on the couch bouncing up and down with each others arms around one another screaming at the boxing match in unison. Comically, my father's other friend sat relaxed on the couch with no emotion at all and continued to take long sips of his Heineken.
         I managed to slip through their physical outbursts and sat next to the seat my father was in. I was curious yet confused to what they were watching because when I looked up at the television all I could see were two men hitting each other. I didn't think of it as a sport right then and there, truthfully, I didn't think much of it at all. This drove me to ask my dad the simple question, "Dad, what are they doing?" I think I caught my father off guard because when he looked down at me all his rage disappeared and he seemed to, at first, be lost for words but then he found them and told me, "It's boxing Naomi!!! They're not necessarily "doing" anything, they're performing...performing for their fans, friends, family, and better yet themselves. You know what they're performing? Their skills and passion for this sport. How about you stay here and watch the rest of the match, this one is going to end good."And at that moment I watched the rest of the boxing match and by the end of it I felt connected, not only to my father and his friends, but to the sport itself. I fell in love with boxing right then and there and from that day up until now, I never try to miss a big boxing match because If I do I will get emotional, and not the "Oh, I'll catch it on YouTube in a week" emotional but the "My life is incomplete" emotional. That is the sad truth but, hey, at least I admit to it.
         Anyways, what I'm getting at is that I grew up with boxing and waking up to the sounds of my dad replaying fights from the night before. And I wouldn't take it back for the world because boxing has taught me the spirit of sports which has allowed me to appreciate other sports like wrestling, soccer, football, basketball, etc.