BUT CAN THEY DANCE?

Remarkably, for a man who has no interest in televised ballgames whatsoever, I spent the day surrounded by sports fiends. It turns out that today was all about "the game". Of which there were several.
No, no idea who played whom, nor who won or lost.
Or, for that matter, how the game is played.

"For when the One Great Scorer comes
To mark against your name,
He writes – not that you won or lost –
But how you played the Game."

---Grantland Rice


That is pretty much the only sports quote I know. Oh, and the "float like a butterfly, dance like a bee" thing by Muhammad Ali.

There are times when I feel defective.


Why don't people scream their foaming approval and wild bravos at nature documentaries or history programmes, instead of physical competitions?


Here's a "competitive event" that, far more than any football, baseball, or softball praestation, deserves a round of applause.
Cheering, and loudly voiced approbation.

IT'S METRONOMIC!


[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dx2CUMtZ-0.]


The only thing missing is the National Anthem before, and the endless inane commentary after. But that is a simple matter of splicing.

It is far more interesting than any number of men in uniform.

Sunday afternoons are dreary.

And loud.


Why was I there? Well, there were a number of briars that needed attention; all of them had oxidized stems and required reaming, one needed the top taken down slightly because the rim was scorched on one side.
Several hours fiddling, with yowling in the background.
There's still more work to be done.
With luck, tomorrow.


No, not coming in on Tuesday or Wednesday.
Those are Chinatown snackie days.
Rest and relaxation.
No sports.




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