March 9, 2010
dear clusterflock
Seeing Mike Tyson take a punch to the face — my grandfather was visiting and we were watching the bout together — pause, stand (gloves down), look the guy in the face, bring his glove to his own, tell the guy to do it again, let the guy do it again, go through the pantomime one more time, then knock the guy out with a single punch.
The game Michael Jordan scored what — 42 points? — sick with something that made it almost impossible to stand, draining shot after shot, buoyed by Scottie Pippen to keep him from collapsing at the end of the game.
Emmitt Smith running for 175 yards against the Giants after dislocating his shoulder in the first half.
The 1980 Lake Placid hockey match.
Dear Clusterflock:
Which sporting events had the greatest impact on you?
comments
Leave a Reply
in the interest of clarity I made it a point not to go back and make sure the details or facts of my memories were correct. you get the point.
Well, I don’t know if this counts, but I don’t particularly care for sports so it’s what you’re going to get:
Nancy Kerrigan’s little run-in with a baton.
I’m all for it.
The 1989 Grey Cup, when Saskatchewan won over Hamilton. First time I ever saw my team win as an adult. They had previously won in 66 but I was only 1. I had to wait until I was 24 to find out what it meant to have your team, the one team that you care about more than any other team, win.
It was a lot of fun.
The 88 Olympics in Calgary were pretty memorable too, as I lived there and had tickets to many various events. It was a big party much like Vancouver just was.
Watching Ben Johnson smash the 100 meter record in Rome in 1987 (?) I remember everything about that experience–sitting in the living room, having to stand up, watching a man run like I’d never seen a man run.
The day, a few years later, when I heard that Ben Johnson’s records were rescinded for doping.
Watching the first fight between Mickey Ward and Arturo Gatti. It remains the most beautiful boxing match I have ever seen.
I’ve got to go now, but I’ll be back to this.
Oh, damn, I know this is so obvious, but honestly — Ali knocking down Foreman in Zaire.
Okay, I’m back. The Mexico City Olympics (68?). Both the long jump and pole vault. They were able to fly.
That Tyson moment that Deron describes. It was astonishing.
Here’s the thing–with the exceptions of track & field and boxing, I don’t like sports. But I love seeing people push themselves to greatness. I will watch anything that holds the promise of that.
Mark Spitz seven golds. Eric Heiden, too, was it seven? Bruce Weber’s Decathlon (too bad he went all Joan Rivers on us.)
The Look.
Lance Armstrong says he was merely looking back to see who was there but his eyes seem to be looking at Jan Ulrich, “I’m going, are you?” He’d been struggling, it seemed, but he just rode away, up the slopes of Alpe d’Huez. Jan just watched.
It would be more than a year before I bought my first road bike.
1. UT’s come from behind to win the National Football Championship! Maybe the most exciting last minutes of a game I’ve ever watched. Vince was not of this earth.
2. The Mavs losing to the Spurs in a Western Conference series because of stupid Steve Kerr and his 3-point shooting.
3. The Mavs losing to the Heat in the Finals due to the worst referees ever.
Both 2 and 3 are significant because they effectively killed my long-standing interest and love for the NBA. All I care about now is Kevin Durant, and, even then, not enough to watch games on tv.
4. Mike Tyson biting that dude’s ear off, if only because it provided me with the most, “Holy shit, did I just see what I think I saw?” moment of my life (sports-related).
This might fade with the years, but:
5. Johnny Weir being underscored at this year’s Olympics. The whole thing really soured me on the Olympics. I’m not even saying he deserved the bronze, but he did deserve to be 4th place, not 6th.
my dad trying with limited patience to teach me how to play tennis, and me failing him abjectly.
How can I possibly have left out the single most important sports memory of my life? It was 1966. I was 8. I watched our home team–the Texas Western Miners–win the national basketball championship. My daddy knew the coach, Don Haskins. I knew all of the players (not in person–though my daddy did), but I knew them by name and number. My favorite was Bobby Joe Hill, #14. Big Daddy Latin. Nate the Skate Archibald (though I think he didn’t play until a couple of years later).
At the time, I didn’t realize the significance of an all-Black team winning a white-dominated conference. I didn’t realize until years later that my father’s sense of loyalty to the home team, combined with his admiration of great ability, must have been at odds with his rarely expressed but deeply held racist views, formed during his childhood in rural Alabama.
Years later, my father would stop in to see Bobby Joe Hill at his menial job at the gas company. One of the most gifted basketball players who has ever lived, reduced to a life of patronizing, faint praise for abilities long gone.
The Phi Slamma Jamma Cougars losing to NC State in Albuquerque in 1983. Not only did my little soul get crushed, but I have to watch replays of Jim Valvano running around in glee for a whole month every year during the NCAA Tournament.
Earl Campbell running over everybody on the Rams on that run where the first tackler takes Campbell’s helmet in the chest. I think that guy died or something. Of course, Earl can barely walk now.
J.R. Richard having a stroke. Little Aaron’s love of baseball will never rekindle.
Hakeem destroying David Robinson in 1995. Sometimes I watch this when I’m sad.
The Warriors 8/1 seed demolition of the Mavs a few years ago. That was fantastic, but the real punctuation came after the fact by that Baron Davis dunk over Kirilenko. This is what we Warriors fans look back on (in lieu of actual accomplishments).
Also, some baseball fun: Barry Bonds (just before all the really obvious stuff became so obvious) throwing out a guy at home plate, then hitting the game-winning HR in extra innings on his birthday right after his dad died. I think I have all that right. Probably not.
Lastly, JT Snow hitting a game-tying home run in the playoffs against the Mets during the first year of Pac Bell Park.
PS. Discovering that, while the other leagues do have their problems, the NBA is a total freaking sham.
a few more delicious nuggets (although for some reason not on the same level as those I already mentioned):
just watching Michael Jordan play, all those championships.
the two Rockets’ championships, as Aaron mentioned, were pretty special.
the three (should have been four, could have been five) Cowboys’ Super Bowls in the nineties.
Michael Johnson’s 200 hundred and 400 hundred meter races at the 1996 Olympics (although I have doubts about those times now because everything is tainted).
And ditto to Michael’s recollection of the Lance Armstrong moment (as well as my doubts about his ability to compete at that level without enhancement).
such are the times.
oh, and every time I think about Hank Aaron, or Jesse Owens, or Jackie Robinson, I choke up.
oh!
in high school Barry Foster (who eventually played a few years for the Steelers) was a man among boys. when you saw him in the hall, you new he would be a professional player. I remember one game where he was handed the ball at the opposing team’s forty, broke through the defensive line, one person between him and the end zone, grabbed the poor kid by the jersey, headbutted him — he dropped like a fly — then rumbled the rest of the way for the touchdown.
Watching the 1966 world cup final with my dad and for some reason wanting Germany to win. As it transpired that moment was to haunt me, England won the world cup – here I am in 2010 waiting and past hoping for a repeat. Out endless coming up short seems to define my life. I am at the point now where I will my nation to do badly and they consistently deliver.
That would be West Germany!
Oh this is great–except everybody has already taken all the good ones.
I’ll just pick the ones that come back to me often (and forgive me for lost references and misspelled names.
I remember the look on faces all around when the judge in the chair held up the “clean jump” flag after Bob Beamon set the long jump record in the ’68 Olympics.
I remember a game the Dallas Cowboys played against the 49ers in about 1972. The Cowboys were down by 14 points and Staubach pushed them to score three times in the final two minutes. Maybe I remember that because that was very early in my growing interest in pro football.
Michael Jordan doing that running jump-dunk, taking off at the free-throw line.
A boxing match I saw (can’t remember anything about it but this; wish I could find a clip) in which an Australian boxer was about finished–the announcers were all saying the ref should stop it–and his lanky opponent started celebrating early, dropping both gloves to thigh level and shaking his chin at the Aussie. Bad decision. Apparently the Aussie had one punch he was saving and it put the other guy on the canvas for good in an instant.
One more and I’ll stop. I once saw a Japanese archer shoot three arrows at a target that was about 70 yards away. All three arrows were in the air before the first one hit.
[...] Daryl Scroggins: I once saw a Japanese archer shoot three arrows at a target that was about 70 yards away. All three arrows were in the air before the first one hit. [...]
ditto the ’66 miners. Likely one of the prime motivators for myself and many of my 13 yr old peers to be playing basketball.
I love this thread.
Zidane ending his career with a head butt at the 2006 World Cup, giving Italy a title.
and, Teresa, yes. that UT championship was one of the all around best first minute to last second football games I have ever seen. Vince is (was?) a god.
77 Trailblazers beating Philadelphia.
76 Franz Klamer winning downhill.
97 Arizona Wildcats winning it all.
Prefontaine losing in Munich.
Lynn Hill freeing the nose.
Jerry Rice being Jerry Rice.
Manny being Manny.
Carl Lewis jumping.
& just because there’s a lot of Dallas fans, the 2008 Giants were something else. Manning scrambling out of the pocket & somehow finding Tyree who somehow caught it.
Derek, I was going to mention Lynn Hill, and just because I’m a Cowboys fan doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate that Tyree catch.
amazing.
Damnit. I forgot Zidane.
not that Lynn Hill freeing the nose was something you watched on network tv, but word spread and we’d all stare numbstruck at the photos in Climbing or Rock & Ice, but now that there’s youtube, you can actually see the footage:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=8921780861600933576#
and speaking of climbing videos, i came across this video the other day of Katherine Destivelle (speaking of other greats) climbing in the Dogon region of Mali: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N70DLM8Az_8
when i was there last year standing at the base i couldn’t imagine how they got up there with ropes, and here she was scampering up it…. SOLO!
That game i actually started as a Patriots fan and found myself rooting more and more for the Giants as it went on.
Larry Bird his first couple of years with the Celtics.
A few more thoughts:
Justin: I think Warriors fans should cling to memories of the Run T.M.C. era and the Sprewell choking incident.
Aaron and Deron: Those Rockets championships are what made me love the NBA.
Zidane. Sigh. Swoon!
Deron: Vince was god-like, and I still hope that one day he will be again.
Finally, I hate Michael Jordan and I always will.
I used to ask people if they would have rather been Shakespeare or Michael Jordan.
Michael Jordan is a god. Not the god. I don’t think. But a god.
Jordan’s just such a tool. I know he’s the best player ever, etc., but I simply can’t stand him. The whole, “Republicans buy sneakers, too” response when asked to support a candidate running against Jesse Helms (I think that’s who it was) really started my hate.
Rather than Shakespeare or Jordan, I choose Dr. J in his ABA days. The style! The dunks! Bad-assery.