Brandon Hantz: The New Face of Irrationality

After an eventful first week, Survivor: South Pacific starts to (already) hit it's stride. Kudos to the show's producers for uncovering the hidden formula to success, i.e. land contestants that are increasingly crazier with each passing season.

Case in point: Tonight's episode begins with about two minutes of Semhar on Redemption Island going what appears to be quite literally insane. It doesn't help that she freestyles all this poetry at random, all the while sort of rolling around on her bed of bamboo and swatting at bugs. If the show wanted to show you how crazy people go on Redemption, they did a fairly decent job of it here. (This all serves to put Matt's run on RI last season in even more impressive context. How did he do that?)

Who else joins the ranks of the crazy? Well, where do we start? How about with Brandon "I'm a Married Man" Hantz? He feels close enough with Coach (!) to share his deep dark secret--that he's the nephew of Russell "Pure Evil" Hantz. Coach responds with the appropriate amount of alarm, but eventually realizes it's no big deal, and the whole affair seems to serve as a bonding moment for the two, complete with a closing prayer.

But what makes Brandon so particularly crazy is his unfounded paranoia regarding tribemate Mikayla. Completely unprovoked, Brandon has marked her for elimination. He is unyielding in his quest to send her to RI, and his rationale is, you could say, suspect. Basically he finds her attractive, is married, and has made up his mind that she's nothing but trouble. This despite absolutely no advance from Mikayla. In fact, when tribal blew up (thanks, Coach), and Brandon admitted he'd stirred the pot against Mikayla, she looked genuinely puzzled as to who this kid even was. It was like a "wait, what was your name, again?" type thing. Just bizarre.

On top of that, since everyone was pretty much decided on Christine after Upolu lost the immunity/reward challenge, when Brandon went on this Mikayla Must Go kick it sent the entire camp into the proverbial tizzy. This culminated in Coach absolutely loosing his stuff at Tribal, indirectly calling out Brandon and contradicting himself too many times to even think about firing up the DVR and recapping here. In the end, sanity somewhat reigned as Christine went to Redemption and no one cast a vote for Mikayla. Thank goodness.

Pretty quiet night from the Savaii tribe, with the exception of Ozzy finding the hidden idol up in a tree that was completely unclimbable by anyone in the tribe but Ozzy. So someone's going to have to get up pretty early in the morning if they're going to try and convince me that the show's not giving Ozzy a little help here.

Also, John Cochran is just a titch neurotic and he's breaking the cardinal rule of early round Survivor (borrowed from Ocean's 11, of course): You've got to make them like you, then forget you. Well, Cochran might be failing on both accounts. Let's hope for his sake that the next couple weeks allow him to sort of sink into the background. If he doesn't, he's next in line for an all inclusive stay at the looney bin on Redemption Island.

Redemption Island, Take 2

It's back--this the granddaddy of all (network) reality television. And not a week too soon, either. Survivor returns (yes, along with the unfortunate Redemption Island wrinkle), with a brand new group of castaways. Brand new, that is, except for the two returning "heroes" Coach (the self-proclaimed Dragon Slayer) and Ozzy (he of the indomitable immunity challenge record), who are playing for their third time each.

And the show wastes no time pitting the two "heroes" (sorry, I can't ever actually call them heroes without the quotes. It's just too ridiculous) against each other in a reward challenge which Ozzy predictably dominates. At this point, we're thinking "Oh, poor Coach" since his whole tribe is giving off an undeniable "Ah crud, we're stuck with Coach" vibe. To make matters worse, Savaii tribe thinks Ozzy is a complete rockstar, blowing off building a shelter in order to just swim and "kick it." This in turn causes Dawn to flip out and break down emotionally, marking her as early elimination bait.

But Dawn is saved by one of the single worst immunity challenge performances I've ever witnessed. Semhar adamantly volunteers to throw coconuts into a net, then when it comes time, sort of just underhands them straight up into the air while mumbling "sorry" and saying "I'm so tired." The net she's aiming for is about 8 feet in front of her. Spoiler alert: she gets sent to Redemption Island.

Besides the end result, some interesting story lines developed. First, Russell "Pure Evil" Hantz' nephew has made his way into the game. Contestant Brandon carries with him a big bulls-eye by virtue of his sinister uncle. He's so nervous about this connection to the biggest Survivor villain ever that he refuses to let anyone know about it. He even goes swimming with his shirt up over his neck and back where "Hantz" tattoos are visible.  Whatever. At this point I'm not sure what to make of this.

Second, Ozzy turns out to be all brawn and no brain. Apparently he's here to play strategically and not just own immunity challenges. Well, in that sense he's not off to the greatest start--basically he gets John the Harvard law student to question everything he's ever known about himself because he offers his (John's) name for elimination 'cause he (Ozzy) wants Semhar to stick around--he thinks she's pretty.  So he starts drumming up all these unfounded doubts about John's viability just so the girl he's in love with will stick around. To his credit he, along with the rest of the tribe, vote Semhar in the end. But why the trip down anxiety lane for John? Pointless.

Plus, Coach turns the tables in one of the biggest surprises so far. Working from a very natural place, he forms an alliance with four other Upolo tribe members and leads the team to an immunity challenge victory. And the organic nature of everything is what is so shocking. For as you know, Coach has historically been the least natural person on the planet. His social skills were, you could (should) say, lacking.

Well this time, he's stepping up his game. Can he keep it up? Time will tell. Until then, buckle the proverbial seat belt for yet another installment of the best reality TV show on planet earth.

"It could have been worse [guys]...ALOT worse."

For no reason in particular, Nat and I recorded Jurassic Park after it ran several times on AMC. And, with Natalie passed out by about the time they feed the raptors with that unfortunate cow about a half hour in, I watched every. single. minute of the 1993 Steven Spielberg classic.

I remember this being one of my familiy's "movies," the ones you and your siblings watch over and over and memorize entire sequences and quote all of the time. Eighteen years later, I was nostalgic to watch it, but also anxious to see how it held up in the face of such massive leaps in special effects technology.

Does it hold up? Well, afterwards I arrived at a sort of meaningless mixed verdict of it does and/but it also doesn't.

With the glaring exception of the brachiosaurus scenes (particularly when Grant, Tim, and Lex are in the tree feeding it, and the whole scene has this sort of "Never Ending Story" with giant puppets quality to it), the dinosaurs actually look remarkably realistic. Word was that the combination of the tropical storm hitting the park and Dennis Nedry's little puppet show actually made for a frustrating T-Rex scene for Spielberg and co.-- the rain kept making the robotic dino glitch. If you're looking for it you notice, but it's not so bad you reinstate your disbelief.

What seems more unbelievable, actually, is the dialogue between the characters. Movie scripts of this era seem to have this unabashed on-the-nose quality, almost like they were originally written (in some spots) to be middle school plays. It is very obvious when we're supposed to laugh, when we're supposed to be in awe, etc. (Other examples include "A Few Good Men" and the entire first 3 seasons of "Frasier." Yes, I have watched both of these examples, since you asked.)

In "Jurassic Park," examples of this obviousness abound. How about when Grant and Sadler see the dinosaurs for the first time, and Hammond takes the opportunity to say, "Dr. Grant...my dear Dr. Sadler, welcome. to Jurassic Park..." ?

Or, for example, when Hammond is griping about how upsetting the initial tour went (2 dinosaurs weren't even visible from the cars, 1 was sick, and a tropical storm cut it short), and Samuel L. Jackson looks at him gravely/knowingly and says "It could have been worse, John...ALOT worse." Is that enough foreshadowing for you? And really, it's an odd thing to say because unless Sammy L. knew beforehand that Dennis Nedry was going rogue for a rival research firm and in order to do so was planning on shutting down the power to the park, releasing the dinosaurs to wreak havoc on everybody, then (really) the tour was actually going as badly as could be (at that point) imagined.

If you were going for maximum dramatic effect, when would the hiding raptor in the power compound pop out at Dr. Sadler? Would it be while she's walking through the compound in the dark, or while she's flipping on the circuit breakers? Or would you have the raptor reveal itself/its intentions of eating Dr. Sadler the exact instant after she's switched on all the power and has just said to Hammond via walkie-talkie: "Mr. Hammond, I think we're back in business!" Apparently the scientists at JP genetically engineered the dinosaurs with an acute sense of timing.

In a way, though, the dialogue is endearing. Like it's the perfect companion to such an outlandish, larger than life plot. And at least the acting is first rate, with career performances from Sam Neil, Richard Attenborough, and Jeff Goldblum. Rewatchability remains through the roof.

With so many older movies looking dated, and Jurassic Park closing in on two decades, honestly it could look worse...ALOT worse.

Ode to the I/O Forehand

Sport is full of beautiful "things." Karl Malone's high screen for teammate John Stockton, and then his subsequent roll to the basket was a beautiful thing. The 5-4-3 double play (where the grounder is fielded by the third basemen before being wheeled to second, then slung to first) is a beautiful thing. And a touchdown pass up the seam on 3rd and 17 is a beautiful thing.

Tennis, like all other sports, is full of such beautiful things, none more aesthetically striking than the inside-out forehand.

A forehand is considered inside-out whenever it's struck from a player's backhand half of the court (ad if the player is a righty) and travels across the court to the opposing player's ad side.  So basically (if you're having trouble wrapping your mind around it), the person hitting an I/O forehand SHOULD have hit a backhand, but "ran around" the shot to hit it with his forehand (since most players get more stick (a.k.a. oomph) on their forehand shot than their backhand), and angled it steeply back to the opposite side of the court.

In order to get away with this, you've got to really pull the trigger, because running around the shot means you've moved so far off the court that anything coming back will be (most likely) for a wide open winner.

Roger Federer hits the most eviscerating I/O forehand in the history of tennis. See for yourself. My favorite part of this video is the awe that soaks all of the color commentary. E.g. at the 1:50 mark Fed plays a point against Marat Safin and, after a sizeable rally Safin makes the irreversible mistake of clipping the net, giving Roger a short ball to run around. The whole world knows what's coming--and so the commentator says (with 100% confidence, and more to himself than anyone at home, really) "see ya." It's phenomenal. Immediately afterwards is an apt tweety bird comparison.

Or how about at 2:59? When Federer (obviously zoning) runs around James Blake's SERVE (!) and murders it inside-out? It catches the commentator seriously off guard: "Oh look out!"

Videos like these are a lot of fun, especially watching the younger Fed in his prime, playing with a style that left the rest of the tennis world in absolute can't-find-the-words-shock. 

Is This Post Relevant to You?

Summer is not the best time for television. How do I know this? Well, Natalie and I have started watching, following, and anxiously anticipating every new episode of Master Chef. We cling to it like a shipwrecked sailor on a piece of drift wood. And actually (and this could be the lack of other programming/any other sport but baseball speaking) it's not half bad. I'd recap each episode if I was any good at maintaining a blog. But that's not what this post is about.

We still don't have a TV, and watch this, the most prestigious of all reality TV amateur cooking shows, on the internet. I'm sure many of you watch shows on sites like Hulu, Fancast, etc. And maybe you've also noticed the same thing that is starting to quite literally drive me half-way crazy during each of the advertisements you're forced to watch during the show.

It's in the upper right hand corner of the screen: A quick question and some buttons. "Is this ad relevant to you?" then "Yes" or "No."

What's even more striking about my dilemma regarding this question is how it started out in completely the opposite way. Let me explain.

You see, I first viewed the sponser placing this question as their ultimate blunder, resulting in their own demoralizing defeat. No! This ad is not relevant to me, thank you. I shall tell you as much and I will never have to put up with your attempts to get me to purchase your product. (Commercials have always been the whole drag associated with watching TV, am I right? I mean, that's why we all did the collective Macarena when Tivo was invented, yes?)

I still haven't been able to click that "No" button. Not once. I may never. It's driving me crazy. For example, an ad for a new Nissan sedan appears. I begin watching. Is this ad relevant to me? Well, in some ways I guess. I'm an adult with a drivers license. I depend on our car to get me to work everyday, to provide for our family.  I certainly don't think I'll be driving our Hyundai Elantra for eternity. In several ways this ad is very relevant to me.

Or how about anti-aging cream? My first thought is no, not relevant. But don't I deal with the same internal struggles associated with getting older? Can I not relate, in any way, to the desire to retain youthfulness and distract myself from the fact that life (partly) is a process of constant decay?

Relevance relevance and so on. 

And now, finding myself unable to view any ad as irrelevant, I begin questioning my entire (false?) perception of advertising in general. How can I be delighted to skip past things that are so seemingly relevant to me and my participation in the human experience? And simply saying, for instance, that since I don't want to buy a car at this very moment, this ad is not relevant comes across as very shortsighted.  Oh sure, I could say "skip past this M&Ms commerical, I'm not hungry for candy right now," but does that mean I might never be in the mood for sweets generally/M&Ms specifically? Of course not. As a human being with discretionary income, which sometimes is spent on food, not infrequently of the junk variety, Mars Candy informing me of their new pretzel M&Ms is particularly relevant, let's say. And if I back out of watching M&Ms ads am I somehow diminishing those employees of Mars Candy, who's livelihood and ability (in some part) to engage in the sort of consumer-based human experiences I'm finding are relevant, depends on whether or not I go out, convinced by their ads, to purchase their candy? What a freaking mess.

It's gotten to the point where I've come to the conclusion (through a logic chain so dense and questionable that I don't dare repeat it here) that advertisers have concocted the perfect question--one that has single handedly captured my still very begrudging attention to their attempts to get my money. I'm certainly not happy about it. But at this point I'm cornered. 

You win this round advertising.

2011 is the New 2006

It's almost midnight now, and in the words of David Foster Wallace, I'm trying to form a sort of "sensuous collage" of this NBA Finals experience. I'm not sure I'm able to process every aspect of it now, but I do know a few things. 

For instance, I know that this is more complex than just my favorite team making it to the Championship series, and then beating team x for their first NBA title. The attendant story lines are too numerous and complex.

I know that with Dirk now 32 years old, and playing uncommonly good basketball, this was perhaps his last chance at wiping away the 2006 Finals and finally being an NBA Champion.

I know that the Heat had more talent than the Mavericks, and that Dallas would have had to play ice cold basketball to win each of the four games required to clinch the series. (And actually, the real description of what the Mavs needed to do each game would be something closer to "hot ice." That's what they needed--to heat up the ice cubes. And they did.)

I know that Miami represents an evil empire of sorts. Less because of LeBron's decision, or their preseason pep rally, and more because they were evolving into an absolute juggernaut. Think New York Yankees of the mid to late 90s and early 2000s. It's difficult to imagine any team stopping them from winning three or four titles in the next five or six years. If Dallas couldn't succeed while the big 3 were still learning to play together their first season, it would have painted a bleak picture for all teams not from Miami.

I know that Dirk Nowitzki is my favorite basketball player ever. He played hurt, he played sick, he pushed through patches where his shot wasn't quite on, he rose above childish taunting from Wade and James, and absolutely owned the fourth quarter all series long. 

I know that I lost sleep in 2006. It was so devastating that I changed the way I rooted for my favorite sports teams. From that point on, I went into each postseason expecting teams to lose as a defense mechanism; winning in the playoffs only meant more opportunities to lose in the future, only with the circumstances even more heart wrenching. After being up 2-0 in '06, I was determined not to be fooled again.

I know that now, my outlook is much more optimistic. It's not always going to turn out badly. Sometimes, it turns out to be magical.

In a way, the Mavericks couldn't have asked for a better way for it all to play out--meeting the Heat again, Dwyane Wade again. Dropping the first game, stealing the second in historic fashion. Then, down 2 games to 1, they reel off three insta-classic victories to bury a more talented Heat team than their 2006 predecessor and vanquish the bad memories in the process.

Incredible. Unbelievable. And man, do I. Love. Sports.

Since You're Going to Do It Anyway, You Might As Well Know the Facts

I'm not sure what the obsession is with tennis fans and ranking the greatest of all time (oft times shortened to the unfortunate acronym "GOAT"), but in the wake of Roger Federer's loss to Rafael Nadal in the French Open Final on Sunday, there's no escaping the argument.  It's everywhere.  And the tide is shifting pro-Nadal. This is incomprehensible to me. (And in the first place, I think the debate itself is silly, designed to drum up conversation points and get people reading about tennis. To begin with, just try defining "greatest" exactly).

At this point, it's boiled down to two people: Federer 'cause he's been so dominant for so long, and Nadal since he always beats Federer. 

Now, you may be tempted to form your own opinions on this and engage in the debate. This is not advised. But if you're going to do it, here's what you need to know to make an informed decision. If my own bias spills through, forgive me.

--Rafael Nadal is 17-8 against Federer all time.

--Of these 25 matches 14 have been on clay. This is a lot of matches, and Nadal is 12-2 against Fed.

--On all other surfaces, Fed leads 6-5.

--They've met in six grand slam finals: 4 French Opens, 3 Wimbledons, and an Australian Open. Nadal has won all of these matches except for 2 Wimbledons (2007 & 2008)

--Rafa has won 10 grand slam singles titles total.

--Roger has won 16.

--Nadal has had one great year (2008) where he won two grand slam singles titles, (Plus the gold medal, but come on.), and one out of this world year (2010) where he won three.

--Roger has won three of the four grand slams in the same year on three separate occasions.

--Federer made 23 (twenty-three!) consecutive Grand Slam semifinals. That's six years worth of major semifinals. He's also made 28 consecutive GS quarters. Both are records, the former a record by a mile.

--Nadal's semi/quarter streaks are not findable with a Google search.

I think that's a good start. Now, since you asked, here's what I take away from the above stats. (Full disclosure: Roger Federer is completely responsible for making me interested in tennis in the first place. He's my favorite player of all time, and watching him play is, I think, as near to watching Michaelangelo's David come to life and hurl a rock at Goliath as we may see in all of sport.) First, Rafael Nadal plays a particular brand of tennis that matches up extremely well against Roger. On top of that, he's really good, and is mentally very tough, and in each of their 25 encounters played very well on big points, including/especially all of Roger's break point opportunities. Also, 14 of their matches were on clay, and this is Rafa's favorite surface, and it highly favors his game. Plus, Nadal is five years younger than Roger and is in the fortunate position of "padding his stats" against the Swiss while they meet up in the descent of Fed's career.

Second, Roger Federer is the most consistently dominant player in the history of tennis. He's also won the most grand slams of any player ever. If somehow you've defined "greatest ever" to mean winning the most slams, or performed the most consistently for the longest time, then fine. He's the greatest. From 2004 to 2007, he could beat everyone badly on any surface except clay. On clay, he could beat everyone badly except one person, Nadal. Conversely, during the same three year stretch Nadal couldn't come close enough to consistently face Roger on any other surface that would have favored Roger and swelled his rivalry win total.

Fed's three year stretch of dominance is unlike anything the sport has seen. And actually, Nadal seems to be in the GOAT discussion less because of his own accomplishments in general, and more because of his favorable match-up with the most consistently dominant player to ever play. Without Roger's brilliant, sustained play Nadal would probably just be in the "good as Agassi/Borg" discussion. (Each of Borg/Agassi/Nadal's accomplish are very comparable.)

I guess my bottom line is this: Let's say (borrowing a very useful scenario from ESPN's Bill Simmons) that Aliens challenge Earth to a tennis match, losing planet's subjugation on the line. (I know, it's very Space Jam). My first question would be what surface is the match on. If it's clay, I'd pick Rafa from 2010. If it's any other surface, I'd choose Roger from 2006 and then laugh all the way to whatever intergalactic bank was brokering the planetary bet.