Bright lights, big city, early mornings, and World Cup madness
Happy belated birthday, lunabee34! I apologize for the tardiness and hope you had a wonderful day. I hear tell that you have also embarked on the quest to watch Blake's 7. I wish you well, especially since I suspect you will actually finish way before I will.
On this end (or middle) of the same country, the moving is done, even if the unpacking isn't, and I am living in an actual high rise building in an actual city with an actual (of course!) lake view. This would be completely awesome if it weren't for a week of pre-residency training and orientation. OK, the resuscitation training (sort of CPR and First Aid 201) and meeting everyone -- kind of exciting. The knowledge that I will be on call! with real live patients! on Saturday -- a source of increasing anxiety. Be very, very afraid, and postpone all those elective surgeries a couple of months, okay?
In between the training sessions and rifling through boxes in search of forks, I have been watching the World Cup. (Blake's 7 to resume as soon as I find my discs.) My family loves soccer, and I played way back in the days when suburban leagues squeezed their fields onto the edges of the football practice fields, up to the high school days where our team scored a grand total of 2 goals in a very long season.
I realize that sci-fi fandom and/or LJ are probably not hotbeds of soccer mania. However I figure anyone who understands sending postcards to clueless network executives understands the kind of hopeless love that motivates American soccer fans to love the sport even when most of the US thinks football is something you play with shoulder pads and nose tackles.
The Olympics may be a celebration of pure sport and socially acceptable nationalism, where obscure sports get their 15 minutes of TV time and airwaves are filled with inspiring personal stories. For my money, though, nothing beats the World Cup for bringing in the drama. There are the underdog teams from poor tiny countries that beat the shin guards off those of more prosperous nations. (Go Ecuador!) There are the virtuoso teams everyone loves to hate but can't help watching for the sheer artistry. (Boo Brazil!) And there is the US team, the guys who keep playing soccer in a country that thinks the World Cup is some kind fo yacht race, against opponents who hates US soccer on general principle. I'm not usually impressed by Nike commercials, but the one with a beat-down US team playing to booing audiences across the globe, only to make it into the finals -- yeah, baby. That's where it's at.
So on behalf of everyone everywhere who's loved something the world could care less about -- go USA soccer!
On this end (or middle) of the same country, the moving is done, even if the unpacking isn't, and I am living in an actual high rise building in an actual city with an actual (of course!) lake view. This would be completely awesome if it weren't for a week of pre-residency training and orientation. OK, the resuscitation training (sort of CPR and First Aid 201) and meeting everyone -- kind of exciting. The knowledge that I will be on call! with real live patients! on Saturday -- a source of increasing anxiety. Be very, very afraid, and postpone all those elective surgeries a couple of months, okay?
In between the training sessions and rifling through boxes in search of forks, I have been watching the World Cup. (Blake's 7 to resume as soon as I find my discs.) My family loves soccer, and I played way back in the days when suburban leagues squeezed their fields onto the edges of the football practice fields, up to the high school days where our team scored a grand total of 2 goals in a very long season.
I realize that sci-fi fandom and/or LJ are probably not hotbeds of soccer mania. However I figure anyone who understands sending postcards to clueless network executives understands the kind of hopeless love that motivates American soccer fans to love the sport even when most of the US thinks football is something you play with shoulder pads and nose tackles.
The Olympics may be a celebration of pure sport and socially acceptable nationalism, where obscure sports get their 15 minutes of TV time and airwaves are filled with inspiring personal stories. For my money, though, nothing beats the World Cup for bringing in the drama. There are the underdog teams from poor tiny countries that beat the shin guards off those of more prosperous nations. (Go Ecuador!) There are the virtuoso teams everyone loves to hate but can't help watching for the sheer artistry. (Boo Brazil!) And there is the US team, the guys who keep playing soccer in a country that thinks the World Cup is some kind fo yacht race, against opponents who hates US soccer on general principle. I'm not usually impressed by Nike commercials, but the one with a beat-down US team playing to booing audiences across the globe, only to make it into the finals -- yeah, baby. That's where it's at.
So on behalf of everyone everywhere who's loved something the world could care less about -- go USA soccer!