Matching Tracksuits

Fun in Fours

Results For "Day: June 26, 2010"

Slovakian Walk

It wasn’t supposed to rain. “Bedzie pogoda,” everyone says, which is oddly appropriate when literally translated. A word-for-word translation is, “Will be weather”; a less literal reading: “There will be weather.” It seems a little odd: there’s always weather. Still, it’s synonymous with “There will be good weather.”

“Bedzie pogoda.” Not quite. But at the very least, “Bedzie spacer…”

And there will be signs. With two little girls under the age of five, we had to turn it into a game. Easy enough: let’s look for the path marks.

And so off we went. The sequence was simple.

Adult: “I see one.”

Children: “Where?! Where!?”

There were plenty of places they didn’t look but I did — not for signs of course. For something less concrete, literally and figuratively.

In some ways, shooting in heavily overcast conditions is easy: it makes one look less at the sky and thus focus on the things at hand. On the other hand, the light can be, at best, tricky.

Given the wet, slippery conditions, I wasn’t the only one looking down instead of looking up.

Yet the hunt for the signs continued. Through the forest, through the meadow, we looked for the elusive marks. When they became obvious (striped stakes driven into the ground beside the path), the girls become somewhat blind to them.

But the moment of discovery was as exciting for us as the girls.

But for a great deal of the time, it was just walking. As the lingering droplets on the grass made our pants increasingly wet, it started to become a question of plodding.

Finally, we got to the forest, and the “almost” plodding became pure plodding as we slogged our way through mud and up hills, the girls on shoulders or strapped to one’s back.

Once we got back onto the paved path — an oxymoron? — the frustration lifted, as did the clouds.

By the time we returned home, the sun was breaking through the clouds.

It sort of figures.

Football

With the Word Cup in full swing, it’s a great time to be in Poland: three matches a day during the qualifying round.

IMG_0363

It was in Poland that I fell in love with football. Notice: I used the worldwide term (regardless of language), and I am not referring to that ridiculously named American version that employs foot-to-ball contact only in punts, kick-offs, and field goals/extra points.

What do I love about football? It’s very much like life:

  1. You can go for long, “boring” periods where players simply bat the ball around, then suddenly — out of seemingly nowhere — a goal. Yet the boring periods aren’t if you watch what’s really going on. Just like life.
  2. Referees can, and often do, make mistakes, and players have to suck it up and live with it. From Maradonna’s “Hand of God” to Chilean player’s unintentional tripping of a Spainsh player in the game above (which resulted in a red card), there are bad calls every game. As in life, those inflicted with injustice simply have to suck it up and move on.
  3. There are occasionally instances of injustice (like the US’s lost goals) that go unexplained. Players and fans have to suck it up and move on.
  4. There’s a lot of trickery and faking injuries. Players try to get something for nothing — just like life.

Not only is it life like, but football is also athletic in the extreme. Unlike American “foot” ball, real football involves few if any breaks. The action is continuous. American FB games look like this: play for three to seven seconds; mill about for two minutes; repeat. Real football involves running. Continuously.

This is, incidentally, why sponsorship in the States is so hard to find, and thus why it’s not televised often: where does one put the commercials?