So many expectations and hopes were dashed today in the Women's World Cup 2007 in China. Well at least my hopes and expectations were not met...there seems to be a shortage of people rooting for the US these days.
If you were not aware, Women's World Cup soccer is being played in China. The 2nd semi-final match was held today between US and Brazil. Germany defeated Norway in the 1st semi-final yesterday so it will be Germany-Brazil in the finals.
As with any good soccer tournament, controversy reigned. It started the day before the US match when the US coach (called manager elsewhere in the world), Greg Ryan, picked Briana Scurry instead of Hope Solo to be the keeper. Briana hasn't played a game in a very long time and Hope has been the coach's keeper of choice for nearly 54 games. Coach Ryan's rationale was that Brianna has a better record (12-0 with eight shut outs) against Brazil. In addition, Solo did not do so well in the opening match against North Korea. It was a brave move but alas there was no joy. Briana did not play all that well and Hope had the "see I told you so pout" on the side line all game long. The team chemistry definitely did not look well mixed. But still the keeper change was a brave move and one the coach has stood behind. Let the pundits and arm chair captains throw insults and abuse at Coach Ryan.
It is so funny how things shake out. If the US had dominated Brazil and won, the coach would have looked like a pure genius. There is a very fine line that sometimes separate the great from the failures. Think about it. Babe Ruth would have have looked like an idiot if he had struck out after pointing to where he is going to hit the next ball during the 1932 World Series. But instead, he is a celebrated hero for making it happen. Misbah-ul-Haq during the very recent 20/20 Cricket World Cup would have been a hero had he succeeded hitting a "6" with that weird scoop backwards stroke. But instead he is vilified for taking that chance and losing the game for Pakistan (go India). Great ones take chances and are called great because the chance succeeds. Greg Ryan will not be called a great one. It is unfortunate considering his amazing winning record with the team.
I also find it comical how all the US haters are coming out of the wood works and saying US soccer is now dead -- for under performing in a tournament. Read the many blogs out there if you don't believe me. Do they realize the sheer quantity and quality of players coming up from the youth soccer system? No, they do not. Do they realize the US has more youth in soccer then any other country in the world? No, they do not. Brazil has beaten the US only once in the last 22 matches and this victory means that US soccer is dead? Get real people. It must be wishful thinking. They said the same thing after the last wave of great US women soccer players retired (Mia Hamm, Judy Foudy, etc.).
But, I don't want to take anything way from Brazil. The Brazilians played beautifully and demonstrated why Brazil should be feared. They played amazing defense (the prior major weakness for Brazil) and they played as a team. Individual performance had the true Brazilian flare. I am going to love watching Marta play hopefully for a very long time. She is only 21 years old and already has more goals in the World Cup then Mia Hamm had in all of her games.
So it is time for US soccer to re-tool, re-focus, and probably find another coach (which I think is the wrong answer). Chin up girls.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Excursions south of Chennai
I had the opportunity to visit two cities / towns / purams south of Chennai, India. Puram is city in Tamil (or one of the many languages in regular use in India). By the way, did you see the statistic that some 2,000 languages become extinct ever day! Unbelievable. But I digress...back to my adventure. I visited Mahablipuram now called Mamallapuram but referred to as Mahabs. It is a neat town located on the Bay of Bengal and it has a lot of history. There are many ancient temples built in the 7th century at Mahabs. One of which is the Shore Temple -- one of seven temples built by the Pallava kings. The other temples are under water just off the coast.
Upon arriving at the Shore Temple, we were immediately accosted by people selling trinkets and stuff. I assumed I was immediately categorized as a tourist (i.e., weakest of the group) given the number of people that shoved merchandise in my path. No one bothered the other members (CK and SR -- I'll talk about SR in a minute) of the group as they were "locals". I'm not sure how the merchants decided to target me given that my jeans and t-shirt were no different then their jeans and t-shirts. Things became easier once SR stepped in and shoo'ed the merchants away. BTW, "shoo'ing" is an art form that I did not master in my short stay. It takes a certain look, tone, and body language that only real Indians can perform. Maybe I shouldn't be hard on myself given that SR is an ex-policeman. SR was even more impressive later in the day and the next day. SR works in our India office and runs things with military efficiency and speed. He is an ex-guard for the previous chief minister and has a lot of knowledge about the area.
Even with SR at our side, we decided to procure the services of a tour guide, John Pasha. No really that is his name. John was unlike most other tour guides you may encounter in that he was hard to understand, seemed like he was making up facts, and didn't really want to talk too much. But he did have a name tag (that is how I knew his name -- I'm smart like that). John was interesting however and did do a good job demonstrating how Portugese sailors may have tied their ships to the docks -- he put one arm through a hole in a rock and held his hand with the other hand that was wrapped around the outside of the rock -- you had to be there.
SR also demonstrated his knowledge of protection tactics when he had to pull over and let the current chief minister's motorcade pass on the highway. He pointed out the role of each car and particularly the leading car with large antenna's. It was a signal jamming car and mine "finder". At which point I had to look on the ground around my feet to make sure my feet were not on a trigger. Hey, I've seen 24. It got a bit exciting at one point as I wanted to take pictures with my camera phone. One of the guards shouted at CK and SR (again he knew I was an ignorant tourist somehow). The quick translation was to put the cell phone away. Apparently a previous chief minister was assassinated by a bomb triggered by a cell phone. Needless to say I put my cell phone away quickly and took another glance at my feet. I wasn't feeling like Jack Bauer at this point.
During the adventure we had tea (chai) at a road side shop. I am a huge chai fan and had to take in the local color. CK guiltily ordered as the chai guy didn't understand "grande double shot soy extra hot with no water". I say guiltiliy because he rightly predicted it could cause me trouble. The decision doesn't seem too smart 10 Imodiums later! But let me live in that moment...the chai was awesome. It was made with a few drops of strong tea, hot milk, and dried ginger powered. The taste was awesome. You just had to overlook where the flies last landed.
We visited the uninteresting Pondicherry the following day and stopped at the same tea wala -- I just didn't get enough. I was still brave at that point. Pondicherry is a French influenced city and still have many French people who have emigrated to the area. It was weird seeing a white guy (I'm assuming he was French) steer a motorcycle as expertly as the Indians. We visited a museum that had archeological artifacts from the area. The museum tour guide, no it was not John Pasha, was a bit more knowledgeable but not anymore interesting.
All in all, it was a great outing and I learned a bit more...
Upon arriving at the Shore Temple, we were immediately accosted by people selling trinkets and stuff. I assumed I was immediately categorized as a tourist (i.e., weakest of the group) given the number of people that shoved merchandise in my path. No one bothered the other members (CK and SR -- I'll talk about SR in a minute) of the group as they were "locals". I'm not sure how the merchants decided to target me given that my jeans and t-shirt were no different then their jeans and t-shirts. Things became easier once SR stepped in and shoo'ed the merchants away. BTW, "shoo'ing" is an art form that I did not master in my short stay. It takes a certain look, tone, and body language that only real Indians can perform. Maybe I shouldn't be hard on myself given that SR is an ex-policeman. SR was even more impressive later in the day and the next day. SR works in our India office and runs things with military efficiency and speed. He is an ex-guard for the previous chief minister and has a lot of knowledge about the area.
Even with SR at our side, we decided to procure the services of a tour guide, John Pasha. No really that is his name. John was unlike most other tour guides you may encounter in that he was hard to understand, seemed like he was making up facts, and didn't really want to talk too much. But he did have a name tag (that is how I knew his name -- I'm smart like that). John was interesting however and did do a good job demonstrating how Portugese sailors may have tied their ships to the docks -- he put one arm through a hole in a rock and held his hand with the other hand that was wrapped around the outside of the rock -- you had to be there.
SR also demonstrated his knowledge of protection tactics when he had to pull over and let the current chief minister's motorcade pass on the highway. He pointed out the role of each car and particularly the leading car with large antenna's. It was a signal jamming car and mine "finder". At which point I had to look on the ground around my feet to make sure my feet were not on a trigger. Hey, I've seen 24. It got a bit exciting at one point as I wanted to take pictures with my camera phone. One of the guards shouted at CK and SR (again he knew I was an ignorant tourist somehow). The quick translation was to put the cell phone away. Apparently a previous chief minister was assassinated by a bomb triggered by a cell phone. Needless to say I put my cell phone away quickly and took another glance at my feet. I wasn't feeling like Jack Bauer at this point.
During the adventure we had tea (chai) at a road side shop. I am a huge chai fan and had to take in the local color. CK guiltily ordered as the chai guy didn't understand "grande double shot soy extra hot with no water". I say guiltiliy because he rightly predicted it could cause me trouble. The decision doesn't seem too smart 10 Imodiums later! But let me live in that moment...the chai was awesome. It was made with a few drops of strong tea, hot milk, and dried ginger powered. The taste was awesome. You just had to overlook where the flies last landed.
We visited the uninteresting Pondicherry the following day and stopped at the same tea wala -- I just didn't get enough. I was still brave at that point. Pondicherry is a French influenced city and still have many French people who have emigrated to the area. It was weird seeing a white guy (I'm assuming he was French) steer a motorcycle as expertly as the Indians. We visited a museum that had archeological artifacts from the area. The museum tour guide, no it was not John Pasha, was a bit more knowledgeable but not anymore interesting.
All in all, it was a great outing and I learned a bit more...
Monday, September 24, 2007
Observations of Chennai, India
I returned to the country of my birth after 35 years of becoming totally assimilated in American life. Here are a few observations and thoughts about Chennai life.
In most of the US we definitely move life along too fast. There is always an urgency to finish something, to get to the next meeting quickly, to start the meeting on time, or just to cram in one more activity. We are always in a rush. My albeit brief stay in Chennai showed me there is considerable difference in how we handle daily life.
People in Chennai saunter -- I believe it is not just a style of walking but rather an attitude. Like what seems with everything else, the attitude is born out the practical reality. Many of the poor are bare footed throughout the day. Walking barefoot in the heat and amongst the debris on the street must require a careful and slow stride. Many people wear chappals (slippers) and you simply can’t walk fast in them. Most other people wear shoes and it is impossible to walk fast even in them. There is a thick layer of dust everywhere and feels a *little* like walking on ice. So, try as you might, you have to slow down.
Then you have what I call “people pockets”. No matter where you look at almost all times of the day, you will see 2 to 8 people just standing together. At times they are talking to each other and at other times they are simply looking around with comfort. It is as if there is nothing more important then just standing there and having a social moment. I tried it for 10 seconds once and then rushed off to a meeting.
If I were to ask you who in society should generally be alert and ready, you would probably answer the police, right? Well even they have a Laissez-faire attitude. Many were usually sitting or napping at check points. Others simply wave traffic along lazily and as if they were making an impact. The few dedicated police are usually extracting fines (bribes?) from tourists, foreigners, and young males with girlfriends. The latter is an interesting story I heard during my trip. Police at check points usually target young males on motorcycles with female passengers. The theory being the male in question is not going to argue about a fine in front of the female.
With a country with population of some 1.2 billion people, the concept of personal space simply does not exist. Everywhere you go there is just a mass of humanity going about their daily business -- whether it is urinating on the sidewalk during rush hour (yes I did unfortunately see this and others simply walked around the guy) or otherwise. I witnessed the lack of personal space at many times but none more memorable then when checking out at a bookstore. Let me tell you, the concept of lines (or queues as the British call them) does not exist despite previous British rule. So I am in line happily paying my bill when all the sudden I felt hot breathing on my neck. Unfortunately for me, I was certain it was not Aishwarya as the hot breath was accompanied with a distinct odor of Chaat and Idly/Sambar – two tasty dishes of South India. If you are not sure who is Aishwarya click here -- you will see why I was disappointed. Nevertheless, I quickly paid and left without a word to my space invader.
That is it for now...do you agree with my observations?
In most of the US we definitely move life along too fast. There is always an urgency to finish something, to get to the next meeting quickly, to start the meeting on time, or just to cram in one more activity. We are always in a rush. My albeit brief stay in Chennai showed me there is considerable difference in how we handle daily life.
People in Chennai saunter -- I believe it is not just a style of walking but rather an attitude. Like what seems with everything else, the attitude is born out the practical reality. Many of the poor are bare footed throughout the day. Walking barefoot in the heat and amongst the debris on the street must require a careful and slow stride. Many people wear chappals (slippers) and you simply can’t walk fast in them. Most other people wear shoes and it is impossible to walk fast even in them. There is a thick layer of dust everywhere and feels a *little* like walking on ice. So, try as you might, you have to slow down.
Then you have what I call “people pockets”. No matter where you look at almost all times of the day, you will see 2 to 8 people just standing together. At times they are talking to each other and at other times they are simply looking around with comfort. It is as if there is nothing more important then just standing there and having a social moment. I tried it for 10 seconds once and then rushed off to a meeting.
If I were to ask you who in society should generally be alert and ready, you would probably answer the police, right? Well even they have a Laissez-faire attitude. Many were usually sitting or napping at check points. Others simply wave traffic along lazily and as if they were making an impact. The few dedicated police are usually extracting fines (bribes?) from tourists, foreigners, and young males with girlfriends. The latter is an interesting story I heard during my trip. Police at check points usually target young males on motorcycles with female passengers. The theory being the male in question is not going to argue about a fine in front of the female.
With a country with population of some 1.2 billion people, the concept of personal space simply does not exist. Everywhere you go there is just a mass of humanity going about their daily business -- whether it is urinating on the sidewalk during rush hour (yes I did unfortunately see this and others simply walked around the guy) or otherwise. I witnessed the lack of personal space at many times but none more memorable then when checking out at a bookstore. Let me tell you, the concept of lines (or queues as the British call them) does not exist despite previous British rule. So I am in line happily paying my bill when all the sudden I felt hot breathing on my neck. Unfortunately for me, I was certain it was not Aishwarya as the hot breath was accompanied with a distinct odor of Chaat and Idly/Sambar – two tasty dishes of South India. If you are not sure who is Aishwarya click here -- you will see why I was disappointed. Nevertheless, I quickly paid and left without a word to my space invader.
That is it for now...do you agree with my observations?
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Traffic in Chennai, India
I returned to the country of my birth after 35 years of becoming totally assimilated in American life. Here are my observations and thoughts about the traffic conditions in Chennai.
My one word description of the traffic is “unreal”. I'm not talking about the volume of traffic per se since I am rather accustomed to interstate 66 in the Washington DC area. It is the volume combined with the type of traffic. First of all let me say that they simply waste money and time painting traffic lines (and road signs for the most part). The street is a cacophony of motorcycles, cows, cars, people, buses, bicycles, buses, and rickshaws. There are no lanes and sidewalks will do when the street is too full. Rickshaws, by the way, are three wheeled vehicles used largely as taxies. The drivers use a motorcycle-like handle bar to steer. Each rickshaw comfortably seats 2 people but since this is India, most carry 4 to 6 people.
So when we arrived, my travel companion, S2, happily jumps into the rear seat and I Gomer Pyle-like, took the front seat. You can learn who is S2 and about S2 at his blog site (http://justexpress.blogspot.com/). I should have read more into the knowing smile that only S2 can pull off. Our driver grinded the gears and plunged into the flow of traffic and I am pretty certain he didn’t not even look to see if there was an opening. If I were driving, I would still be waiting for someone to give me room to pull into the road! The ride to the hotel was interesting but it was only a precursor to the fun I would have the next day. After all, it was only Sunday when we arrived. It did however take a few minutes at the hotel to dislodge my fingers from the dash as my nails had dug in fairly deep. I still have the image of the back of one of the many the motorcycles that I swear we were going to run over.
The ride from the hotel to our office is an all urban setting and the road had two and at times three lane markings. At one time during portion of a two lane street, I counted about 5 or 6 “lanes”. Motorcycles ride handle-bar-to-handle-bar-to-side view mirror at 40-50 km/hour. Oh by the way, motorcycles typically have more then one person riding arranged in interesting ways. I saw at most 4 people on a motorcycle and yes it was what looked like an entire family. I’ll have to see if I can get my wife to ride side saddle on my motorcycle. The concept of personal space does not exist. Oh, the horn is a must. Short beeps mean I am here and prolonged beeps mean I am still here. There are pedestrians (that is such a wrong term but I can’t think of another) who walk (not run) along and across the traffic in random intervals. The cows are a bit smarter in that they walk along on the sidewalk median.
After a week of observing the traffic and how various drivers performed, I have come to the conclusion that there is a certain practicality and beauty about the arrangement. Yes, it does look chaotic -- but there is a flow. The trick is simply to “float”; don’t fight the current, don’t make sudden moves, and to remember that the guy cutting you off is not insulting you, but just taking an opportunity to, well, get in front of you. I was told there are two basic rules to follow when driving:
1. Apply the rickshaw driver technique: once the front wheel is in, the rear wheels surely have to follow; and
2. Rule of gross tonnage: the bigger guy always wins.
It is practical and simple -- you can ignore everything else.
My one word description of the traffic is “unreal”. I'm not talking about the volume of traffic per se since I am rather accustomed to interstate 66 in the Washington DC area. It is the volume combined with the type of traffic. First of all let me say that they simply waste money and time painting traffic lines (and road signs for the most part). The street is a cacophony of motorcycles, cows, cars, people, buses, bicycles, buses, and rickshaws. There are no lanes and sidewalks will do when the street is too full. Rickshaws, by the way, are three wheeled vehicles used largely as taxies. The drivers use a motorcycle-like handle bar to steer. Each rickshaw comfortably seats 2 people but since this is India, most carry 4 to 6 people.
So when we arrived, my travel companion, S2, happily jumps into the rear seat and I Gomer Pyle-like, took the front seat. You can learn who is S2 and about S2 at his blog site (http://justexpress.blogspot.com/). I should have read more into the knowing smile that only S2 can pull off. Our driver grinded the gears and plunged into the flow of traffic and I am pretty certain he didn’t not even look to see if there was an opening. If I were driving, I would still be waiting for someone to give me room to pull into the road! The ride to the hotel was interesting but it was only a precursor to the fun I would have the next day. After all, it was only Sunday when we arrived. It did however take a few minutes at the hotel to dislodge my fingers from the dash as my nails had dug in fairly deep. I still have the image of the back of one of the many the motorcycles that I swear we were going to run over.
The ride from the hotel to our office is an all urban setting and the road had two and at times three lane markings. At one time during portion of a two lane street, I counted about 5 or 6 “lanes”. Motorcycles ride handle-bar-to-handle-bar-to-side view mirror at 40-50 km/hour. Oh by the way, motorcycles typically have more then one person riding arranged in interesting ways. I saw at most 4 people on a motorcycle and yes it was what looked like an entire family. I’ll have to see if I can get my wife to ride side saddle on my motorcycle. The concept of personal space does not exist. Oh, the horn is a must. Short beeps mean I am here and prolonged beeps mean I am still here. There are pedestrians (that is such a wrong term but I can’t think of another) who walk (not run) along and across the traffic in random intervals. The cows are a bit smarter in that they walk along on the sidewalk median.
After a week of observing the traffic and how various drivers performed, I have come to the conclusion that there is a certain practicality and beauty about the arrangement. Yes, it does look chaotic -- but there is a flow. The trick is simply to “float”; don’t fight the current, don’t make sudden moves, and to remember that the guy cutting you off is not insulting you, but just taking an opportunity to, well, get in front of you. I was told there are two basic rules to follow when driving:
1. Apply the rickshaw driver technique: once the front wheel is in, the rear wheels surely have to follow; and
2. Rule of gross tonnage: the bigger guy always wins.
It is practical and simple -- you can ignore everything else.
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