The Five and Dime

Photos: Occupy Oakland Takes 19th and Telegraph on 11/19

2011-11-20T19:23:00.001-08:00

#occcupyoakland march has circled back and overtaken an empty lot on 19 and Telegraph, tore down fence surrounding

Tents are already starting to go up at new #occupyoakland site

Tent city growing rapidly, as is number of helicopters

Crowd has thinned out considerably, most concentrated in amphitheater-type area #occcupyoakland

Photos: Occupy SF Bank of America Occupation

2011-11-20T19:18:00.000-08:00

Standoff continues, more arrests made at #occupysf Bank of America occupation

Last arrest made, crowd erupts in cheers, police begin to take down tent in BoA #occupysf

Video: Before the Raids

2011-11-20T19:17:00.000-08:00

The Basic (aka, is Eric Chavez in the 1%?)

2011-11-20T18:39:00.001-08:00

How many people is 1% of the country, and how much does the top 1% make?

As of today, there are 312,592,330 in the US. One percent of that is 3,125,923. These 3 million or so folks are who we're are talking about when we say "The 1%".

The average yearly income per family of the top 1% is $1,137,684.

The average yearly income per family of the top 10% is $164,647.
The average yearly income per family of the bottom 90% is $31,244.

So generally speaking, anyone who pulls in 7 figures a year is in the 1%, and there are about 3 million of these folks.

What do these people do?

31.6% of the top 1% are executives, managers and supervisors in non-finance fields
15.7% are in the medical profession
13.9% are in finance
8.4% are lawyers

etc etc etc on down the line, until we get to:

1.6% of the top 1% are in "Arts, media, sports." This is 50,015 people. That's kind of crazy. You put together all the movie stars, celebrities, athletes, famous TV producers, etc, who make more than a million dollars a year, and it is only 50,000 people.

Conclusion:
Yes, by all means, Eric Chavez is in the 1%. And so is Norv Turner, and Rex Grossman. And they are all horrible at their jobs.

Reports Indicate Iran's Two Main Opposition Leaders Arrested

2011-02-28T08:41:00.000-08:00

Unconfirmed reports have begun to emerge in the past several hours that the two main figures of Iran's Green Movement opposition have been arrested and imprisoned. BBC News and other outlets have relayed word that Mir Hossein Mousavi, Mehdi Karroubi, and their wives were taken from their respective homes, where they had been placed under house arrest, and brought to Heshmatiyeh prison in Tehran.

The original report came from the Kaleme.com website, translated to English by the blogger BanooyeSabz. Both high-profile opposition leaders had been calling for mass demonstrations in Iran in light of the wave of uprisings sweeping the Middle East and North Africa. Mousavi and Karroubi gained international recognition as leaders of the 2009 Green Movement in Iran that was born from protests claiming that the re-election of President Mahmoud Ahmedinejad was flawed.

Iran's Fars news agency, closely tied to the ruling Revolutionary Guard, quotes an unnamed government official who has denied that Mousavi and Karroubi were arrested. The Guardian UK reports that the two men had been under house arrest for over two weeks, and that their imprisonment could spark mass protests from the oppostion.

These reports come as Iranian Foreign Minister Ali Akbar Salehi held talks Monday with the European Union's Foreign Policy head Catherine Ashton concerning Iran's nuclear program, according to Reuters. Salehi is preparing to address the United Nations disarmament body Tuesday.

Who Do the Protesters Want to See Lead Next?

2011-02-07T02:15:00.004-08:00

There has been much talk in recent days as to possible successors to Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, if and when he steps down. American and European journalists and pundits have limited the scope of possibilities to those recognizable to Western observers. The first name brought up worldwide was Mohamed ElBaradei, the former head of the United Nations International Atomic Energy Agency and Nobel Laureate. A pro-democracy dissenter for many years, ElBaradei is a recognizable figure to many in the West. However, due to his many years living abroad and current home in Vienna, Austria, he is not well known in much of Egypt. Another favorite figure of the West is Amr Moussa, former Foreign Minister and head of the Arab League.

So which leaders do the Egyptian people actually want? Al Jazeera English posted this video in their live blog today, an interview with a young protester showing his wounds and declaring that he will not leave Tahrir Square until Mubarak steps down. The most interesting part comes halfway through, when he lists three people that he thinks would be good leaders. The Al Jazeera reporter asks the young man who he wants to lead after Mubarak, and what type of government he wants to see. The protester responds, "A government of Egyptians, with the best men here." He lists three names: Mohammed al-Baltagi, Ayman Nour, and Mustashar ("Advisor") Mahmoud al-Khodairy.

These are three very interesting choices, and shine light on the nature of these demonstrations. All three are familiar names in the Egyptian opposition movement, yet are very different people. Dr. Mohammed al-Baltagi is a member of the Muslim Brotherhood party and a Member of Parliament. He has been a vocal supporter of judicial reform in recent years, and has spoken out against the government's decision to bar former British MP and Palestinian activist George Galloway from entering the country.

Ayman Nour is by far the most famous figure of the three that were mentioned. He is the leader of the El Ghad ("Tomorrow") party, a liberal opposition party with a strong focus on democracy and human rights. The Egyptian government officially recognized El Ghad in 2004. Nour, a Member of Parliament at the time, ran for President the next year. He was arrested in January 2005, and then released in March after international outcry and intervention from the European Union. After his release he mounted a presidential campaign that managed to garner seven percent of the vote despite the fact that the elections were widely recognized as being fraudulent. Mubarak then had him arrested again in December, and he served four years in prison before being released in 2009 due to health issues. He joined the protests two weeks ago and was injured when he was hit in the head by a rock on January 28th.

Mahmoud al-Khodairy is a judge and an attorney, a Muslim Brotherhood member who was formerly the vice president of the Egyptian Court of Appeals. Al-Khodairy, referred to here as "Mustashar" (a term of respect meaning "advisor"), was in support of the Muslim Brotherhood's decision to withdraw from the 2010 elections in protest of the ruling National Democratic Party's rigging of election results.

El Ghad and the Muslim Brotherhood would seem to be diametrically opposed, yet this protester would like to see both groups' ideas expressed. After he shows the camera his burns and bruises, he vows not to leave Tahrir Square until he and his peers can decide the future of their country themselves.

Fair Trade and the local food movement

2010-12-06T05:38:00.011-08:00

In recent years, people in the United States have become increasingly aware of the source of their food: where and how it is grown, and how that affects the planet. Organic production led the way, yet more recently the local food movement has moved to the forefront. While it would seem as though the local food movement and the Fair Trade movement would be at odds, they actually complement each other extremely well. For consumers in the United States, their best option for the planet is to buy locally. But there are many products and foods that people use on a daily basis that can’t be grown locally, due to differing climates. Buying local lettuce and apples is ideal, but what about coffee, tea, chocolate or mangoes? Fair Trade fills that void. Fair Trade certification ensures that environmentally, economically and socially sustainable practices were upheld. The concepts behind eating locally can also benefit impoverished farmers in the developing world. Growing and eating locally can help farmers in the global south guard against the growing food scarcity crisis and rising world food prices. For many, Fair Trade can create the freedom make that happen.

This past Friday, December 3, Ghana celebrated Farmer’s Day. In a small country where much of the population lives in rural areas, the definition of farmer is versatile and the role vital. An estimated 2.74 million families grow food or keep livestock throughout the country. The theme of this year’s day of recognition is “Grow more food,” a call for increased sustainable farming practices in the face of global food insecurity. As environmental and economic factors force a shift in the status quo, Christian D. B. Mensah of Agro Eco Consultancy in Ghana advises that “Ghana must grow more food, while using less land and water and reducing emission of greenhouse gases, to respond to the challenge of climate change and growing world populations.” Knowing that resources are becoming scarcer, self-sufficiency is a necessary precursor to development.

This call for sustainable agriculture could have come from any developing country in the global south. Global agricultural markets, as well as energy markets, are highly connected, and one decision ripples quickly around the planet. The current food price crisis can be traced back to the Bush administration’s decision in 2006 to heavily subsidize corn ethanol as a partial replacement for gasoline. As local food guru Michael Pollan put it in a 2008 Newsweek article, it “created a situation where American SUVs are competing with African eaters for grain.” As fossil fuel prices have risen, so to have grain prices. Modern agro-business is heavily dependent on oil for all aspects of production and transportation. The only way for people in the developing world to take oil out of the equation and to mitigate the influence of energy policy on grain prices is to grow and eat locally.

However, conditions under which small-scale farmers can grow subsistence crops have traditionally been scarce. Farmers in the global south, be they banana farmers in Ecuador or cocoa growers in Ghana, are up against an unfair market. They must put all their time and energy into growing their one cash crop, which then gets sold at a low price to exploitative middlemen or an international corporation. This is where Fair Trade comes in. The market linkages that Fair Trade creates, as well as floor prices that guard against fluctuating markets, allows farmers the freedom to have more time to work on growing subsistence crops. Fair Trade family farms and cooperatives are better able to create crop diversity and food security, and growing their own food locally means less of a carbon footprint.

Mensah points to certifications as a potential solution for Ghanaian farmers. “These labels give the customers the guarantee that the cocoa beans which are used to make their chocolate are sustainably sourced and that in the origin countries like Ghana, biodiversity is conserved and sustainable livelihoods are ensured. We cannot run away from the power of the market to change behavior.” In a world that is highly interconnected, daily decisions on a local level can have a major impact globally.

Review - Kelly McFarling's "Distractible Child"

2010-09-29T03:01:00.001-07:00

Every year in San Francisco, as September counts down its last days and the subtle West Coast fall tiptoes in, bluegrass is on the mind. You can thank Warren Hellman for this, but it's hardly strictly his doing. A local sound rises from the pavement, a foundation for this upcoming weekend's importation of twang-y string.

But the homegrown stuff here in Cali is a vastly different varietal than can be heard elsewhere. As is the case with most organic Bay Area cultural phenomena, left coast folk and bluegrass is a patchwork mash up of sounds and flavors. And last Thursday, a buzzing crowd packed into Cafe du Nord for the coming out party of one of San Francisco's most unique new sounds.

Kelly McFarling took the stage with a temporal mishmash of instruments and influences for the release party of her first studio album, "Distractible Child." Usually accompanied in live shows solely by a stand up bass and her own banjo, this set featured a wall of sound emanating from an electric guitar, drums and keyboards, as well as the always present banjo and rockabilly bass. It is an unencumbered mix of acoustic and electric, a folk sound rooted in the past but a hybrid of styles that could only exist in the present. As is the case with McFarling's album and any other show she's done, her classically trained yet soulful voice dominates the proceedings.

The album (and the show at du Nord) opens with "Atlanta," a shout-out to the hometown of this Southern-born and raised singer. Its sound is more Kentucky though, anchored by the guitar work of Jonathan Moldover that sounds so acoustic you'd swear it wasn't plugged in. McFarling's voice has a raw edge to it that brings to mind an opera singer who hits the bars on the late night to sing what she really loves. Like many of the tracks on the album, it is a sprawling song that doesn't rush to the end, but instead leaves space in the middle open for interpretation and improvisation.

The title track of the album, "Distractible Child," is a bit more up-tempo, naturally building a momentum driving by Andrew Laubacher's drums and the resonating guitar chords that sound like Santana and Brian Wilson had a lovechild that was raised in Appalachia. McFarling's voice fits into each and every song, setting the mood but not overshadowing the music. For a genre that at times feels stagnant and without innovation, McFarling's fresh sound is a welcome step forward.

Album - Distractible Child
Released September 23 (independent)
Available online at kellymcfarling.bandcamp.com/album/distractible-child

Analysis of Wikileaks' war logs

2010-07-27T10:40:00.003-07:00

Despite what has been optimistically stated, these 90,000 documents are far from being the new Pentagon Papers. Not even close. These SIGACTS (significant action) cables are a basic log about the everyday events of the Afghan war, available daily to thousands of military personnel and contractors through the basic defense department intranet. While they are classified and not available to the public, they aren't top secret or even highly classified. There isn't a monster revelation hidden in the documents, especially not for people who have followed the war and have known for years that it is an abject failure, that scores of civilians are routinely killed by US forces, and that Pakistan is a shady ally.

However, it is a very good and very important thing that these cables and logs were leaked. First of all, proponents of the war can no longer point to the White House's rosy interpretation of the war narrative to say that things are going well and turning positive. These logs show beyond a doubt that the US has made little to no progress in nine years, and that Afghanistan is just as much a chaotic mess as ever. Those who support the United States' presence in Afghanistan point to the "surge" and to various metrics to say that the tide is turning or whatnot. The leaks are indisputable proof that that is untrue, that the US isn't any closer to any sort of victory or stability. Hopefully it will result in a change in the discourse surrounding Afghanistan. If it is impossible to defend this war, then perhaps there will be more outcry to pull out.

Second of all, there is solid evidence in the leaks that civilian murder by the US army and coalition forces is under reported and covered up. The cables describe in stark detail the reckless abandon with which US soldiers act, especially with regard to Afghan civilian life. They routinely kill with no qualms and no repercussions. Taken together, the logs suggest that the flimsiest justifications are accepted for civilian casualties.

Third of all, it is generally a positive thing that this information got leaked, even if it is somewhat mundane. I fully support Wikileaks and Assange, because if the US government routinely misleads the public about the realities of the war, and if the mainstream media is too dysfunctional and corporate to take on the hard questions, then there needs to be some source that provides the public with the truth. There has been a critique that leaking raw documents isn't journalism and isn't reporting. But if Wikileaks exposes the cover-ups of the administration through primary source documentation, then it is functioning as journalism should.

The Afghanistan war logs don't expose one gigantic cover-up or scandal. They aren't a wide lens look at policy or long term results. They are individual dispatches that portray the reality on the ground, and when put together paint a picture of a messy and chaotic war with no end in sight.

No Man's Land

2010-05-24T14:20:00.005-07:00

From under freeway overpasses to urban alleyways to train yards, street artists are used to existing in what most people would consider no man's land. Shepard Fairey, in a new interview with The Atlantic, defines that space differently. He sees himself existing in limbo between street artists who call him a sellout and an establishment that calls him a criminal. Yet most people simply call him an artist, and the exposure ensures that he's getting out his message, which is what he wanted from the start. He believes that beginning in 1989, "I felt like it was important to say that, as a taxpayer, I owned a little bit of the public space, and I should be able to have some say in how it was used."

Street art is built on the idea that public space doesn't just belong to corporate interests, it belongs to everyone. Fairey's newest massive piece, however, was viciously attacked from both sides. An epic mural on Bowery and Houston was first ticketed for building code and advertising violations, then was bombed by a local artist (above). Neither side accepts him, though he wants to be both respected by the graffiti community and also sell his art for thousands.

Banksy lives in limbo too, but a totally different kind of no man's land. As a public figure who is completely anonymous, he can move through cities, igniting communities in love and hatred, without saying a word or showing his face. Talking about his current tour through the US, bombing cities in semi-secrecy, the Wooster Collective believes that, "Banksy has given people a new reason to get out of their homes, explore their cities on a scavenger hunt trying to find pieces that have been put up in both heavily trafficked areas as well as those off the beaten path."

One of his pieces in San Francisco was a signature rat on a slab of concrete on Alcatraz, a place that is literally no man's land. Originally inhabited by the Miwok, later home to one of the most infamous prisons in America, occupied by the American Indian Movement from 1969-1971, and currently a tourist trap, Banksy's contribution to the Rock made the declaration that it belongs to all of us and it belongs to none of us.

Arguably the two most famous street artists in the world, Fairey and Banksy both figure prominently in Banksy's debut film project, Exit Through the Gift Shop. It's a very funny and well-made documentary of street art as seen through the always-running video lens of Thierry Guetta (aka Mr. Brainwash). In poking fun at the colorful and inauthentic Guetta, the movie's message seems to be that artists such as Banksy and Fairey are truly authentic because they've paid their dues, put in the time and confronted danger. Hidden amongst the lighthearted jabs and exhilarating footage is the attempt to counter the claims that they have sold out by showing someone who is a true sellout, while at the same time inherently increasing their popularity in the mainstream. They need the support of the tight-knit graffiti world for their credibility, but also want to see how far they can go with their art. It is an incredible paradox, these two artists in no man's land refuting the accusations of one side while at the same time building their visibility in the mainstream. They exist in neither, but are attempting to exist in both. This is something that the street art world as a whole is dealing with, striking a balance between authenticity and popularity. It is an uneasy tension, and it will be interesting to see how long street art can maintain this perilous balancing act.

Kuapa Kokoo: Ghanaian cocoa cooperative

2010-05-12T03:41:00.000-07:00

When sustainability in the Fair Trade movement is discussed, it is usually within the context of environmental, social or economic sustainability in cooperatives. But we rarely talk about the structural sustainability of the cooperative system itself. When a cooperative is built in such a way that it is truly democratic, the positive gains are spread proportionally, and there is accountability on every level, there is an extraordinary opportunity for it to grow steadily and keep gaining strength. Last week TransFair USA welcomed two representatives from Kuapa Kokoo in Ghana, a cocoa growing cooperative based in Kumasi. In speaking with and learning from Cecilia Appianim and Kojo Aduhene-Tano, the main thing that stood out about Kuapa Kokoo was its organizational structure: its size, strength and efficiency. The effects of the grassroots foundation flow upward to support the cooperative’s management, the benefits of its efficient production flow down in the form of guaranteed minimum prices and premium funds to members.

Kuapa Kokoo was formed in 1993 around 23 societies (villages), numbering 2,000 farmers. Today, the 1,500 societies within Kuapa Kokoo contain over 45,000 farmers. This stunning growth is attributable to the size of the cocoa market in West Africa, the emerging market for Fair Trade chocolate, and the solid structure of the cooperative itself. Although it originated high in the Andes Mountains of South America, almost 70% of the world’s chocolate comes from the forests of West Africa. Of that, between 16-20% comes from Ghana alone. Kuapa Kokoo is positioned in the heart of the world cocoa market; a cooperative that is proof positive of the economic, environmental and social benefits that are possible when Fair Trade is embraced. As Kojo proclaims emphatically, “Kuapa Kokoo is Papa Paa!” Meaning the chocolate is “the Best of the Best.” The co-op operates on a model of transparency, democracy and gender equality to ensure equality and full participation by its members...

[Continue reading this article at the Fair Trade Certified blog]

Hustlin' Quarter Waters: Das Racist on the Daily Grind

2010-05-09T15:15:00.005-07:00

To come up in the rap game these days you need to be on your grind 24/7, from social media to the studio to doing shows. Establishing a name and then fighting to remain in the spotlight is a constant job. Brooklyn-based rap trio Das Racist embody that spirit of hustle, a nose to the grindstone work ethic that has led to the recent release of the critically acclaimed Shut Up, Dude mixtape, rockin' shows from NYC to SXSW, and appearing up on pretty much everyone's “Best New Band” list. Famous for their high-energy concerts and irreverent lyrics, this trio has become a force to be reckoned with based on sheer willpower. When the afternoon sun beams through dusty windows and it's time to gather strength for another night on the grind, where do they get the energy and desire to keep coming out and putting on shows for their faithful followers? The 5&Dime spoke with Heems, Kool A.D. (Victor), and Dap of Das Racist about their thoughts on life, work, baby turtles and the never-ending HUSTLE.

5&Dime: You hustlin'?

Hima: Everyday.

Dap: Not as much as I'd like to be, but I'm trying to get a few things done while "Duckin 5 0 and my moms"© Ryder Fleming-Jones. You can obviously hustle for something other than money whether it be fame, girls/boys, cheese (miled-based food product). Whatever flo-ats yr bo-at, ya underdig?

Vic: A white man writes all of Lil Wayne's shit. That's one thing they don't want you to know. And yeah, I'm hustlin.

5&Dime: There are definitely positive and negatives hustles. Everyone has theirs, be it selling CDs and fake purses, slanging drugs, walking your neighbors Chihuahuas, running Halliburton, babysitting, or the rap game. What’s your opinion on how hustling exists within or outside of the law?

Hima: I don't think hustling has to be illegal. I feel like more and more people I meet have four or five sources of income as opposed to one and this will slowly become the norm. Selling weed is easy. As for multiple hustles, I like to think in 2010 everyone's West Indian...like in "In Living Color."

Dap: I think having to do things/deal with people you don't want to or are uncomfortable with is usually a pretty integral part of hustling/grinding, whether something is legal or not. Many hustles exist on the fringes of society, like maybe selling baby turtles.

Vic: Baby turtles is West Indian slang for weed.

5&Dime: The issue of race, and the discourse on race, is a major part of your music. The unemployment rate has historically been far higher for minority groups in the US, necessitating alternate income sources. Do you think this is why the idea of hustling is so important to hip hop?

Hima: White people hustle less because they can.

Dap: Establishing an identity/voice/presence or whatever for a "minority" group almost always involves a struggle and a large part of that struggle is hustling for attention, ya underdig? The Civil Rights movement involved a lot of grinding/grustling/hustling, ya smell me?

Vic: Historical precedents have informed the culture of black people in the United States to this day, and have also informed the culture of non-white immigrants and descendants of those immigrants. Economic disparity is criminally foul, yet it's often enough enforced and reinforced by legislature written by and favoring the rich, who are mostly white. Hustling can be understood as having a personal understanding of what success is and then attempting to achieve that success by whatever means. Brown people seem to do this a lot. In short, white people hustle less because they can. Or rather, their hustle is defined as culturally legitimate.

5&Dime: What does Das Racist do on a daily basis to up your game, and in what ways have Das Racist hustled to get to the top?

Hima: Live show hustle. Interview hustle. Recording songs hustle. Internet marketing hustle. Making jokes hustle.

Dap: Not blowing the brains out of your skull hustle.

Vic: Also other hustles outside the paradigm of legal success.

5&Dime: Looking back on the history of rap music, how has hustling played a role in its development, and who do you think are rap's biggest hustlers?

Hima: I think when 50 took quarter waters and sold 'em for two bucks and then coca-cola came and hollered and said that's what's up was one of the best hustles in rap's history. Jay-Z cashing out Roc-A-Fella for Def Jam's corner office was a big hustle. Big Pun probably had to hustle a lot because of his weight. Ultimately though Jay-Z's probably the biggest hustler.

Dap: Those dudes selling their CDs on the street are the biggest hustlers. "You like hip-hop?"

Vic: Big Pun was probably physically the biggest hustler.

5&Dime: True that. So who do you think are some of the great hustlers of all-time then?

Hima: Dick Cheney.

Dap: Vincent Gallo is a cool dude.

Vic: The first hustler was Jesus.

5&Dime: What’s the most outrageous hustle you’ve ever come across?

Hima: The plot of Office Space.

Dap: Great answer, Hima. A lot of government and corporate hustles are pretty intricate and outrageous. The US Minerals Management Service and the people they're associated with are pulling off some outrageous demonic hustles right now. The dudes selling baby turtles in Chinatown are killing it.

Vic: The Pharmaceutical and Medical Insurance industries are pretty outrageous hustles. Rent is an outrageous hustle. BIG UPS TO CHINATOWN.

Why is the sports world standing against SB 1070?

2010-05-04T23:09:00.009-07:00

In the last 48 hours there has been an enormous and unprecedented wave of backlash against Arizona SB 1070 from the sports community. Just when we thought that sports was as far removed from political life as it has ever been, as the stars of old criticized modern billionaires and kids searched in vain to find real sports heroes, everything changed in a second.

The outcry started with individual players from Latino-heavy Major League Baseball, rose steadi ly as the unions and teams in other sports spoke out, and reached a crescendo of unanimous disgust that has swept through the entire sports world. People as unlikely as once wannabe Republican gubernatorial candidate Sir Charles and Phoenix Suns owner Robert Sarver have taken strong stands. Barkley said Tuesday on TNT that "as a black man, I'm against any form of racial discrimination." Earlier in the day, Phoenix Suns two-time MVP Steve Nash called the bill, "detrimental to our society and our civil liberties." San Diego Padres first baseman Adrian Gonzalez has vo wed not to participate in the 2011 All-Star game in Phoenix if this law is on the books.

With all the political issues of the past decade that have affected athletes, the unanswered question is "why now"? What is it about this specific issue that has prompted the sports community to take the most uniform political stance in recent memory?

One answer lies in demographics. While there has been xenophobic backlash by the far right wing against the huge growth of the Hispanic/Latino community throughout the country in recent years, mostly in the Southwest, the truth remains that Hispanic/Latino culture is nothing new in the United States. In the Southwest, it is impossible to separate Mexican influences from American culture. They are one and the same, and have been for as long as whites have lived in the region from San Antonio to Los Angeles. Sports have always reflected the cultures of the areas in which they are played. Arizona teams have huge Hispanic fan bases, baseball teams are full of Latino players, and teams have always embraced this cultural heritage. If the bottom line in sports is money, and it most definitely is, teams and players can't afford to alienate a huge chunk of their fan base.

Another answer lies in presidential leadership. President Obama holds incredible sway in the sports community, especially in basketball. While previous presidents have been the owners' president (like G.W.B.), Obama is the players' president. Bush owned a team, Barack hoops. When he immediately expressed concern over the passage of SB 1070, it gave players the backup they needed to share their own views. The combination of fan base demographics and a feeling of support from Washington has pushed the sports world into this political discussion.

There is a third ingredient that has been added to the mix in the past three weeks that I think has influenced both athletes and fans to look at the more political aspects of sports. For their 30th anniversary, ESPN is running a groundbreaking documentary series entitled "30 for 30." These documentaries, made by some of the best filmmakers in the biz, look at angles to sports that haven't been explored before. Three weeks ago, a film on the racism-fueled trial of high school phenom Allen Iverson premiered. Two weeks ago, 30 for 30 introduced America to the spiritual side of Ricky Williams. And on Tuesday, ESPN premiered a look at Nelson Mandela and the South African rugby team immediately after apartheid ended. The fact that the "worldwide leader" has broached the once taboo subject of sports and politics in recent weeks no doubt helped the sports world latch onto this current struggle.

The fact that famous athletes have been so apolitical in the 21st century has actually helped the fight against SB 1070. Before athletes began to speak out, the opposition to the bill was being valiantly fought by the activist community, with little mainstream public support. The apolitical nature of American sports "normalized" dissent against SB 1070. Mainstream America is seeing sports figures speaking out against it and realizing that this is an issue that affects everyone, not just one community. This is changing the nature of the opposition.

So is this an isolated incident of the sports world speaking out against oppression, or the beginning of a more political era in sports? I believe that the stands taken by the sports community against SB 1070 and the state of Arizona will do a lot of good in the effort to repeal the law, but I don't think that it will lead to a new era of sports and politics. This was the perfect storm of extreme racist legislation that carried with it the potential to hit the sports world in the heart and the pocketbook. But who knows, maybe this is the beginning of something new, a spark that would return the sports world to the days of Ali, Tommie Smith, John Carlos, Roberto Clemente and Dave Meggyesy. If so, it would be a silver lining to this tragedy of a bill.

Red Shirts and Tea Parties

2010-05-03T14:03:00.001-07:00

The question of the hour: does Thaksin actually have a large support base, or are the Red Shirts nothing but a loud minority? The Red Shirts are a lot like the Tea Partiers in the US, in that they are both "astroturf" movements (fake grassroots) that proclaim populism but are really just fronts for the business elite, and are actually much smaller than the media portrays them to be. They get a lot of attention, but their numbers are small and they don't represent the masses.

Regardless of how the masses felt towards Thaksin's corrupt state prior to the coup, it seems like the tide is turning against him due to his disrespect towards the monarchy and his friendship with Hun Sen, among other things. Storming Chulalongkorn hospital was a despicable act and a strategic error by the Red Shirts, weakening their momentum. The problem though is that the Democrats represent a traditional pillar of power, and haven't given the rural poor much of a reason to support them. Rightly or wrongly, the rural poor see the Democrats as a manifestation of the static monarchical power that has existed for centuries, and any crumbs from Thaksin are more than welcome. The Democrats believe that they are acting in the best interests of the Thai people, and while this is true, it is antithetical to the concept of democracy. Yet forcing political change through mob rule, while funded by the corporatist and the corrupt, as the Red Shirts are, is much worse for democracy.

Kevin Rafferty, former editor of Thailand's Business Day, notes that, "There is big money backing the red shirts, with large numbers of demonstrators being paid 1,000 baht a day, five times the agricultural wage." When the national and international narrative is confused enough to paint this corporate-backed movement as populist, much like is happening with the Tea Parties in the US, it becomes incredibly difficult to resuscitate logic and have a constructive discourse.

Although 30,000 Red Shirts represent just 0.05 percent of the Thai population, they are causing enough of a distraction that the when elections are finally held, Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva will have trouble pointing to successfully implemented social policies in order to show people that he is the most qualified candidate. Just like with the Democrats stateside, Abhisit needs to take media attention off the Red Shirts and put it back on social policy. The only way to show that the Red Shirts are nothing but a loud minority is to enact policies that show immediate concrete gains for the rural poor. This will be reflected in the ballot boxes when elections are finally called. It will take the knees out from under UDD, strengthen democratic and anti-corruption efforts, and most importantly, it will help improve the lives of poor people.

Sav of the Day

2010-04-14T15:55:00.002-07:00

The one and only Answer. Steve James (Hoop Dreams) deconstructs AI's racism-fueled trial from his Virginia high school days. It was Jena Six before Jena Six.

Southern Yunnan Tea Mountains

2010-04-14T06:49:00.001-07:00

The mountains of southern China’s Yunnan province rise majestically from deep canyons and valleys carved by ancient rivers. It is a region of high highs and deep lows, home to the most extensive biodiversity and most natural resources in China, where the richness of the land contrasts sharply with the poverty in hillside villages dotting the landscape. It is the most ethnically diverse province, with 25 of the country’s 56 recognized ethnic groups calling it home, but also the poorest, having more poverty-stricken counties than any other province. It is in the mountains of Yunnan where 220 families in Mannong and Manmai villages cultivate Fair Trade Certified tea.

These villages sit atop Hekai Tea Mountain, one of the oldest tea producing regions on the planet. Despite this ancient tea culture and tradition, the area has historically struggled with entrenched poverty and underdevelopment. Water was gathered from muddy creek beds, the children of the village weren’t able to attend school, there was no sewage system in place. In 2004, the Mannong Manmai Ancient Tea Association was founded with the hope of improving their living conditions. The tea association became Fair Trade Certified in 2007, and immediately things began to change. Since 2008, 16 miles of water pipes have gone up, bringing fresh, clean water to the village from a high mountain spring. Fair Trade premium funds have been used to pay for school tuition, room and board, and have even sent some children off to college. Several bathrooms have been built, improving the sanitary conditions of the village...

[Continue reading this article at the Fair Trade Certified Blog]

Rwanda’s Coffee Co-ops

2010-04-13T01:00:00.001-07:00

If you could design the ideal place to grow coffee, what would it look like? Rolling green hills, coffee plants growing wildly, rich soil, a predictable and consistent rainy season? Sounds a lot like Rwanda. But ideal coffee isn’t just in the plants; it’s in the people too. They need the knowledge and the ability to sustain positive growth, the resources to educate the youth, the freedom to build their community in the way they see fit. Good coffee can’t exist without being harvested by people in a healthy community. That’s why Green Mountain’s new Spring Revival Blend, the result of a partnership between Green Mountain Coffee, the Cordes Foundation, and TransFair USA, is a Fair Trade coffee that blends top of the line beans with building the sustainability of coffee cooperatives in Rwanda.

The two cooperatives that supply beans for this blend are KOAKAKA and Abakundakawa, cooperatives from very different regions but with strikingly similar stories. KOAKAKA is located in south central Rwanda, about three hours from the capital of Kigali, and is comprised of 1640 members, 365 of whom are women who were widowed during the civil war. Though started just six years ago, they already have a matriculation rate of 90 percent of children (compared to 40 percent nationwide), universal health care, and they’ve built roads in order to get their coffee into the global marketplace...

[Continue reading this article at the Fair Trade Certified Blog]

Sav of the Day

2010-03-05T08:55:00.000-08:00

The legendary Dock Ellis everyone:

Update: Status of Chilean Fair Trade Producers Becomes Clearer

2010-03-05T07:15:00.003-08:00

Nearly a week has passed since Chile was struck by one of the largest earthquakes ever recorded, and the scene on the ground remains unsettled. Although the death toll was revised today and dropped steeply, aftershocks continue to rock the country along with accusations of an inept government response to the tragedy.

The Chilean wine regions were some of the hardest hit areas of the country. We’ve received information on the status of ten of the Fair Trade Certified vineyards in Chile, and although it remains difficult to contact the affected areas and information has been slow coming in, we have preliminary testimonials about the well being of the producers.

We are devastated to report that the Sociedad Vitivinicola Sagrada Familia in Curicó suffered the tragic loss of six of their producers. Four homes were destroyed and there has been significant damage to production facilities. Our hearts go out to our colleague, vineyard manager Raul Navarrete, and the family and friends of the deceased in this terrible time. Raul’s vineyards just recently achieved Fair Trade certification and he has been hard at work developing relationships with importers and retailers to sell the vineyard’s wines in the United States...

[Continue reading this article at the Fair Trade Certified Blog]

Chilean Fair Trade Co-ops Hurt by Quake

2010-03-01T08:00:00.002-08:00

As the dust settles from this past weekend’s massive earthquake in Chile and the full extent of the damage is assessed, the well being of the producers and vineyards in the TransFair USA family is on everyone’s mind.

The quake, which measured at 8.8 on the Richter scale with an impact of 50 gigatons, occurred underground just off the coast near the city of Concepción. As of today the death toll is up to 750, with the potential for it to rise due to high numbers of missing people. Even though Chile, one of the most developed nations in Latin America, has strict building codes for housing that includes seismic retrofitting, initial estimates put the damage in the range of $25-30 billion. This includes some 500,000 residential buildings that are beyond repair, leaving almost one out of every eight people homeless.

Some of the hardest hit areas include Constitución, Talca and Curicó, in the southern part of the country. Talca and Curicó are two of the main wine producing regions in Chile, home to several Fair Trade Certified vineyards. Initial estimates say that 90 percent of the historic old town of Curicó has been destroyed...

[Continue reading this article at the Fair Trade Certified Blog]

New Media and Free Expression

2010-02-26T15:22:00.003-08:00

The forms that media take reflect where we have been and where we are going as a society. Right now we don’t know exactly what lies in store for the future of journalism and media. We know that print is dying, that new technology has the ability to completely change how we approach and consume information, but the shape that journalism will take in the not too distant future is unknown. That means that anything and everything is possible.

The major questions that face journalism are economic, and in finding the answers we have the ability to restructure the industry to make it less corporate and more grassroots, less of a mouthpiece of those in power and more of a loudspeaker for those without power. New forms of media, from blogs to multimedia projects to citizen journalism, illustrate that media is becoming democratized and made available to everyone. The trick is to figure out how to align citizen journalism with journalistic ethics and fact checking, how to fund long-form investigative journalism, and whether online ad revenue is enough to support the infinite creativity that is possible on the Internet.

Governments, corporations, and the mainstream media are not going to take this lying down. There is the potential for attacks on the press to become more frequent and more violent in the years to come as the establishment realizes that there are eyes everywhere, from Oaxaca to Iran to San Francisco. This means that it is now more important than ever to protect journalists, fight back against censorship, and protect free expression.

Thaksin's Toxic Assets

2010-02-26T14:21:00.003-08:00

In a decision that landed like a bomb in the center of Thailand, sending out shockwaves in all directions, the Supreme Court today found former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra guilty on five counts of corruption, and in doing so seized 46.7 billion baht of his assets. The political, economic and cultural impact of the decision rippled across the country, landing a wave of relief upon some and a rising tide of anger in others.

The money in question was taken from approximately 76 billion baht that was frozen after Shinawatra was deposed in a 2006 coup and fled the country to avoid jail time. Despite the astronomical figures, the indictment of Thaksin for the specific act of selling his stake in his telecommunications company Shin Corp to a Singaporean company has the feeling of Al Capone being busted for tax evasion. Of Thaksin's many sins, this was probably the one that hurt the Thai people the least. His reign of repression, censorship, nepotism and massive corruption has been obscured by the finding of guilt on this one transaction. Yet he is guilty nonetheless.

Thirty billion baht of his previously frozen assets will be returned, meaning although he has been weakened by the guilty findings and the confiscated assets, he remains wealthy. By not being more severe, the court's ruling will have the unintended consequence of making Thaksin into a still-powerful martyr. Thaksin loyalists have already turned to violence, burning down a spirit house in the aftermath of the verdict.

It is a victory for Thailand that Thaksin was found guilty, but the fact of the matter is that it has done nothing to lessen his influence. Every day that he is front page news is another day in which the country is prevented from moving forward, putting the past behind, strengthening the economy and solidifying the current government.

COP15 Reax

2009-12-18T18:13:00.003-08:00

-If we learned anything from the Copenhagen fiasco, it's that world political leaders (some elected, some not) and governments have failed their people, and can't be trusted to push back climate change. It's now apparent that any and all meaningful action is going to have to be taken by the people, not the leaders. The future of the movement needs to target individuals to make changes in their lives and their actions. When the people lead, the leaders follow. This removes subsidies, monitoring and incentives from the equation, and as crazy as it sounds, puts business at the forefront. Since government has failed to stem climate change, the market will have to step in. The lasting impact of Copenhagen will be the switch of environmentalism from a liberal to a "conservative" movement, from big government to business (even though green businesses aren't politically conservative... this term is being used in a non-political way). The people need to take it upon themselves to bypass watered-down international agreements and take on climate change in a grassroots way.

-This "deal" that Obama forged came out of a meeting of China, India, Brazil and South Africa. This is interesting in a couple ways. First, it is absurd that the deal is being struck only by the biggest polluters and most obstinate nations. The US, China and India alone count for half of the world's emissions, and somehow we're to trust their leadership in forging a deal? China and India are full of shit, and need to be removed from the G77 and never again classified as developing nations. Secondly, on a more positive note, this meeting represents the dramatic shift in world power in recent years. Not a white face present in that meeting. Two Asian giants, the largest economies in South America and Africa, and the US, led by a black president. It starkly illustrates how far the world has come, and where it is going in the 21st century. As bad as things are, it's good that southern hemispheric nations are wielding equal power. The fact that Brazil and South Africa were present is unequivocally positive.

-PR people always say that no publicity is bad publicity. Unlike Kyoto and Bali, every eye in the world was trained on this conference. While there were many opposed factions, from wealthy countries to developing nations to China and India to the protesters at the gate, everyone agreed that climate change is real and needs to be dealt with. So why must inept political leaders be the ones to deal with it, if everyone in the world is watching? Crowdsource it. It will be interesting to see what kind of alternative measures are born from the ashes of the official conference.

-Obama's governing M.O. is becoming pretty clear: sell out progressive values to strike weak and watered down agreements simply for the sake of being able to say that something was done, even if that something turns out to be meaningless or even a net negative. This has happened with the financial sector, health care, Afghanistan and now with climate change. Obama thinks long term, doesn't look for quick fixes, is patient and has foresight. It might very well turn out that he was right on all these issues, that coming to some agreement, weak as it is, is not only better than nothing but will pave the way for better agreements in the future. I, for one, am willing to wait it out and see where he's going with this, because I trust his intellect and realize that all other feasible candidates and options are inferior. But he is pretty spineless, and it's apparent that he doesn't feel strongly enough about anything to take a stand. With climate change, however, the environment isn't going to be waiting anything out, and anything Obama is doing is too little, too late.

San Sebastian Graf

2009-10-21T13:58:00.002-07:00

Gladwell Analysis: The end of the NFL?

2009-10-15T11:43:00.007-07:00

In what's being touted as the most important article on sports of the year, Malcolm Gladwell has excavated the depths of denial that exist in every football player, coach, executive and fan to bring to the surface the devastating and inherent brutality of the sport that we all tell ourselves doesn't exist. Much like brain injuries themselves, hidden from sight, the enjoyment of football as seen through plasma screens allows us as a society to support this multi-billion dollar industry based on the faulty assumption that a lack of blood and outright death means the absence of depravity. In a way that is pure Gladwellian, this piece consolidates numerous studies that have poked and prodded the national consciousness for years into one perfectly articulated amalgamation of evidence showing it is nearly impossible to play football at a high level and escape with your brain unscathed.

Like myself, Gladwell is a huge football fan, which is an important reason that this article works so well. It is easy to attack football from the tired narrative of the sports-hater, but this critique comes from the perspective of a fan who doesn't want to see the sport wiped off the face of the earth. This paradox adds an incredible element of complexity to the article, in that it forces the reader to confront the impossible task of reformation. The dogfighting angle seems to be purely a hook, existing so that Gladwell can posit the question of whether (brain) violence is inherent to the sport, like dog fighting, or incidental to it, like stock car racing. The evidence overwhelmingly suggests the former.

So, working from that conclusion, where do go from here? My first reaction to the article was physical, I felt literally nauseous reading about Kyle Turley's experiences since retirement. Gladwell's article comes on the heels of a much talked about piece by Michael Silver of Yahoo! Sports on Turley specifically. Both articles give the reader a visceral reaction to the daily suffering of Turley and many other retired players, linemen specifically. He collapses spontaneously, suffers flashbacks of concussion symptoms without warning, and blacks out for long periods of time.

My second reaction was total denunciation of football. I've been a huge football fan, college and pro, for as long as I can remember, but have always had issues with the sport. Exploitation is inherent in college football, as young, mostly black and mostly working class kids make millions and millions of dollars for their universities (which are mostly white-owned and operated) and are barred completely from seeing a dime of it. Television contracts, merchandise licensing and ticket sales for college football make up a billion dollar industry, yet players are expelled for life if they accept any money from boosters. The modern-day NFL, under the guidance of new commissioner Roger Goodell, is as corporate an enterprise as the sporting world has ever seen. Goodell's double standard on player behavior is excruciatingly transparent. Matt Jones, a white WR, served only a three game suspension when arrested for cocaine possession, then avoided suspension completely when he was arrested again this past March. White Patriots lineman Nicholas Kaczur was arrested buying so much illegal OxyContin that it was obvious it wasn't for personal use. According to the Boston Globe, Kaczur "purchased 100 pills every few days, paying tens of thousands of dollars over time." Kaczur was astoundingly NEVER suspended or fined by the NFL. Raiders coach Tom Cable recently attacked an assistant coach, breaking his jaw and threatening to kill him. As of now he has avoided any suspension or fine. I don't need to detail the harsh and unjust punishment that black players like Pacman Jones, Mike Vick, and Plaxico Burriss have received from the NFL and the criminal justice system. These issues, coupled with the grotesque information on brain injuries that Gladwell detailed, forced me to confront my football fandom and threaten to dump it all together. But then I checked my (first place!) fantasy team and watched an illegal internet feed of the Denver-New England game.

So it's obvious that the game isn't going anywhere. Despite this indisputable evidence, there are far too many fans and billions of dollars for it to destroy the game. While my sports attention may shift over to baseball and basketball, the country's won't. There seem to be only two ways forward, knowing now what we know about head trauma in football. One is to force the league to take further measures to protect players. The other is to pressure parents to not let their kids play football, and to choose baseball or basketball instead. If this is done, on a grassroots level, then the best athletes will avoid football and the game will begin to become watered down. The only way for us as a society to confront this corporation that destroys so many young men's lives so early is to cut off the funding, that is, the athletes. But for the time being, as long as the players are fully aware of the danger that they are subjecting themselves to, there's no reason to denounce the sport. I'll still be a football fan, just not as big a fan.

There are drastic measures that can be taken to lessen head injuries, but the chances of any being implemented are minuscule. One such measure would be to revert back to leather helmets, or use no helmets at all. Rugby and Australian Rules Football have far fewer head injuries due to the fact that players don't wear helmets. Without a helmet, a collision hurts the aggressor just as much as the player absorbing the hit, meaning that defensive players would avoid head-to-head collisions all together. Along the same lines, the league could institute a limit on padding size and player weight, making it a smaller, faster game with less violent collisions. The chances of any such drastic rule change occurring are close to none however. The only way to force the NFL to change is to attack them where it hurts: the pocketbook. And the only way to do this is make the games less entertaining by diverting young talent to other sports. It may take decades, but the fact of the matter is that it is now impossible, in light of Gladwell's article, to deny that to play professional football is to willingly give up your right to a middle and old age.

Nobel Reax from W. Europe

2009-10-09T11:52:00.005-07:00

This past summer saw the people of Iran take to the streets against brutal state violence and strain against the imposed borders set up by Iran's totalitarian regime, with the single purpose of being welcomed back into the world. Above all, the green tide in Iran, a youth- and blogger-driven wave, wanted normalized relations with the outside world. And the world wanted it too, supporting them as much as possible without undermining their cause, tugging and pulling them into the fold. After eight years of unilateral hegemony in the US, the international community is doing the same for America by awarding Obama the Nobel Peace Prize.

In France, the response to Obama's young presidency has been one of muted enthusiasm. People hope that his election will signal a move into modernity for the US, but realize it could just as well initiate a backlash. That seems to be the sentiment around the continent as well, with the Peace Prize in a sense cajoling and cautiously encouraging the US to step forward, to draw down its various wars in the Middle East, to provide equal rights for its gay citizens and health care for all its people.

These are all things that haven't happened yet, but there are concrete reasons for his winning the award, reasons that aren't readily apparent from within the US due to the fact that conditions on the ground, the everyday lives of people, haven't changed much in the past year. But the view from here, from western Europe, has seen a monumental shift since January. The world's richest and most innovative country has gone from being a dark, scared and violent place to turning on a light, opening the door, and greeting the world.

To understand why Obama won the Prize, you have to look at it from the perspective of those who awarded it to him. Since he took over, Obama has paid back the millions owed to the United Nations in dues and addressed them as equals, made an equally important speech in Cairo, addressed the Iranians directly on their New Year (perhaps even catalyzing the Green Revolution), scrapped plans for a Stars Wars defense shield in Eastern Europe, and reopened Israeli-Palestinian talks. This sea change in such a short amount of time is a really big deal to the world community. The world is undoubtedly a better place with an engaged United States, and the effects of the re-engagement of the past nine months and next four years will be seen magnified exponentially in years to come. That is why Obama won, and deserves, this prize.

Overheard in Iraq

2009-10-08T11:35:00.002-07:00

From NY Times At War blog:

Maj. Guy Parmeter: “Seen any foreign fighters?"

Iraqi farmer: “Yes, you.”

Still got my Nike Dunks

2009-10-01T13:39:00.003-07:00

Complex.com has a great countdown of the 50 best Nike Dunks of all time. Although the 5&Dime prefers SB's, there are some classics on this list, including the 2005 release Stussy Dunk Hi LTD, a 5&Dime favorite:

I'm still rocking my Dunk Low Pro SB's, beat up as they are. Huge in France. But even bigger? The Nike Dunk Low Pro SB Paris, of course:

Open Rouen

2009-09-19T14:03:00.010-07:00

Ancient French towns point travelers in the direction of a far off destination from innocuous street signs in the middle of centre ville, far from the highways that take them there. The three-headed post that proclaimed Lille, Paris and Rouen to be straight shots in three directions sprouted from the base of the bridge in Compiegne. West was Rouen, we left early Saturday morning on the 25th of July following that finger through countrysides, passing Beauvais, gliding over hills through Normandie. In Thomas' car, Sara slept in the back, I flipped through radio stations buzzing with static and picking up signals from far across France's broad, flat back.

The Open Rouen had begun on Wednesday. As a pitcher for hire, I'm kind of a mercenary. It was a long tournament and Rouen, the top team in the Elite level, the best of the best, needed an arm for the waning days of the event they host. I was the only undefeated pitcher left at that point, and word had gotten around the small world of French baseball. Thomas is friends with the manager of Rouen, Francois Colombier, so he passed on my information and I was definitely down for the challenge. Sara was in town for the weekend and was down for a road trip. The plan was to arrive in time for the noon game, pitch, then hop a train back to Compiegne that night. It was half because they needed a pitcher, and half a tryout for next season.

The jewel of the French league, Rouen's dominance in recent years necessitated a facility to match. So halfway through this season they had their all-dirt infield replaced with field turf. It stood out sharply as we entered the clearing that held their field and the seven teams fighting it out in this annual tournament. Most that weren't playing were milling around, and it was a splattering of uniforms and players from around the globe. A team of Division III college players from the Southwest was representing the US. Team Quebec was there, as was the Belgian National Team. The Gauting Indians were hardly representing Germany, as most of their players were Americans picked from other German Bundesliga squads. France was represented by the Rouen Huskies, the French National Team, and the French under-21 National Team. We had the early afternoon game against Quebec, but when we arrived I found out that the number two pitcher for Rouen, a Venezuelan named Keino Perez, was set to start the first game, and if we won then I would pitch the second game that day against Gauting. But if we lost I'd have to pitch the next morning. Used to it by now, I just shrugged. That's French baseball.

Got suited up, met the players, and warmed up with the team. Seems like every good player in France has some US connection. Maybe their family is from there, or they played in the States at some point. Whatever the reason, the result was that most of the Rouen team spoke English. These guys were as good as D1 college players in the States, but because they were the best of France they were treated like superstars. There was a line of baseball cards, and the top two or three had sponsorship deals with new French baseball company Lace. Lace had a booth set up at the tourney, it's a small company with minimalist branding on their merchandise and some of the best quality glove leather I'd ever seen. Joris Bert was the most well known French player due to the fact that he had signed a minor league deal with the Dodgers organization this year. His departure in the spring had been a big deal, newspapers called him baseball's Tony Parker, and there was even a segment on the national TV news about him. But he had gotten cut pretty quickly and was now back playing left field for Rouen. Their center fielder was in my mind their best player, Kenji Hagiwara, a fast, six-foot rangy outfielder with a quick bat. Kenji was French from Japanese parents, and had played college ball in the US, for a junior college in Texas and a summer team in Hawaii. After the first game he slipped on a USF Baseball t-shirt. I went up and asked him, "Is that University of South Florida or San Francisco?"
"San Francisco, man. One of my buddies from Hawaii played there," he said. I asked him what the guy's name was, because I know a good amount of players at USF, and have watched them for years. Royce Fukuroku. Yup. I had watched Royce play all four years he was at USF, he was tiny, a 5'3" (maybe) third baseman that dropped bombs. He played alongside a couple friends of mine at USF, and had always impressed me. Turns out he had even played a season for Rouen a couple years back. The small world connections didn't end there. The first baseman for Rouen was a big Australian guy named Ian Young, from Sydney. He worked for the International Baseball Federation (IBAF) in Switzerland but still played in France. After introductions we quickly figured out that in Spring 2005 his job had taken him to Wesleyan to meet with my old coach, Mark Woodworth. Not only did they meet, but Woody invited him to come out and watch the team practice...and I was on that team. Ian had grown up in Sydney, playing ball with a guy named Matt Bennett, who was the only other lefty pitcher besides me, and our staff ace, on my team in Israel in 2007. Before the game I warmed up with Sebastien Grimaud, a pitcher and utility player who had played at College of Marin some years ago, half an hour from where I grew up.

Keino's outing was rocky from the start. He was leaving his fastball up and couldn't locate his breaking ball. Quebec was squaring the ball on almost every at bat, peppering line drives all over the field. He pitched out of a couple jams, so they never had a breakout inning, but he was getting in trouble constantly. We threatened a couple times at the plate, but couldn't put together enough to get back into the game. On the bench, I was not only disappointed that I wouldn't be pitching that day but I also had to figure out if I was going to stay to start the next morning, and if so, where my sister and I would sleep that night. Thomas had suggested getting a hotel room, but it wasn't necessary. Guys on Rouen assured me that I could stay with one of them. We ended up losing, knocking us out of contention in the tournament we hosted, but I told Francois I'd be there to start in the morning. Quentin, the youngest player on the team, invited us to stay with his family. He's a 17 year old outfielder who I had played against twice when Compiegne faced Rouen's second team. First time we played them seemed like years ago, it was back in May when I had come within a bunt single of throwing a perfect game on their own field. Quentin and I had an epic battle that game, an at-bat that lasted 11 pitches before I ended up getting a fastball far enough inside that he swung and missed. Second time we played them was just a week earlier, a home game in Compiegne to wrap up the regular season. It was July 19th, and a long, messy day. My folks had flown in that morning and got there right on time for the first game. Right on time to see one of our lesser players, Florent Moreau, decide to bowl over their first baseman as he stood in the base path settling under a weak pop up that Flo hit. The benches cleared, their catcher threw a punch, was ejected, the Cubans exploded, Coca couldn't be held back, it was a mess. Luis was yelling, everyone was instigating. I'm always there to back up my teammates, but not then; Flo is an idiot and had no idea that he couldn't just knock over their fielder. Flo is a really traditional French guy, classic in a way. He always snaps at me, "learn French" (in French) when I'm speaking English, and I get right back at him with "learn baseball." Would've helped in this case. But finally the field cleared and we got on with the game, which we won easily. The second one was long and filled with errors, we ended up losing but the beef had been squashed between the teams. I had a beer with Quentin after, so it made sense for him to invite us to crash at his place the next week.

Highlight of the tournament was the home run derby, happening right after our loss to Quebec. Couple players from each team were involved, same rules as in the bigs. Attendance hadn't been great in the first couple days of the tourney, but this was Saturday, the semi-final teams were being decided, and it was a beautiful day, all resulting in a good sized crowd for the derby. The players disappointed a bit though, no one hit more than two home runs in the first round, which ended up taking far too long. As the field narrowed in the second round, the big bopper from Quebec who lit up Keino kept dropping bombs and won it all. We stuck around the field for the derby and the afternoon game because of the barbecue that was going down in the evening. Gave me a chance to talk to a lot of the guys on the US team and German teams. The US team had been picked randomly by some umbrella organization called USA Athletes International, who put together this squad of DIII players. It was funny to hear how the French reacted to the fact that a team from the States was there, even the most knowledgeable French seemed naive and ridiculous. They just have no idea how many thousands of baseball players there are in the US that are better than the best French ones. I was first told that this would be a college level All-Star team. I was pretty incredulous to that, considering that Team USA was used to competing in Cuba and Japan, not Rouen. The French seemed to think that these were some of the better amateur players in the US, but after talking to them I realized that they were just good DIII players like myself who wanted to get a shot to play pro ball internationally after college. I passed out my email address, hoping that I'd be able to help these guys find teams.

After the derby I was sitting with the German team, having a beer. A couple played for Haar, with guys that I had played with in Israel. The Gauting hats were the best I've seen in a while, pinwheel colors of red and blue, with a blue "G" in the Georgetown style, outlined in white. All the players had been growing heavy beards the whole season, they looked like grimy Bavarian warriors. One pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam he had stashed in his bag, and they started telling me about the night before, when they had gone out to the clubs in Rouen. Apparently they all showed up at this one club, and the bouncer wouldn't let them in (presumably because it was like 15 guys and no girls). They started getting into it with the bouncers, and it escalated. All of a sudden one of the bouncers pulled out a crow bar and started wailing on one of the players. First shot got him high up on the forehead and he went down in a heap. They kept on him though, pounding his back and stomach while he was unconscious on the ground. The rest of the players finally got him out of there, after absorbing some hits themselves, and got him to a hospital. He ended up with a couple dozen stitches in his head and bruises all over. Safe to say the Germans weren't the biggest fans of the French. Old beef dies hard.

Everyone involved in the tournament congregated for the big Saturday night barbecue. Players, coaches, umpires, fans, friends. Rouen coach gave me a coupon for twenty euros of anything I wanted: burgers, chicken, beer. It was a warm evening, the setting sun reflected off the houses perched on the hill behind the outfield fence. The first time Compiegne had played at Rouen, Leonel, the 15 year old Cuban on our team, pulled me aside. He had only been living in France for three years and was wondering about the houses on the hillside. "Are those French favelas?" he asked me in Spanish. I laughed, said, "Nah man, in these parts the rich people live on the hills, not the poor ones." The barbecue lasted well into the night, until we hopped in Quentin's father's car and headed up to their beautiful house in the hills. Quentin took us out that night in Rouen. We sat at a cafe and drank beer at the very spot where Joan of Arc had been burned at the stake. She is one of Sara's heroes, and the enormity of our location overwhelmed her all evening.

We rose early and were at the field as the chilly morning haze still hovered above the ground. I ran along the warning track, trying to shake off the cobwebs and warm up my legs. The Belgian National Team was already there, looking crisp in their white uniforms with the yellow, red and black name. I could tell from the beginning that Rouen wasn't entirely in it. We had already been eliminated, the standings didn't count for the regular season, and it was eight on a Sunday morning. These games are the real tests for baseball players. Teams I had been on in California wouldn't have even thought twice about it; this was a game, so they have to play hard, go all out, and act like it's game seven of the World Series. That's not the French way though. I had hoped that Rouen would be different, that guys would play with the same grit and pride that Californian players played with, but I was way off. Team played casually all game, and it didn't help that I didn't have my best stuff. The umpire squeezed me a bit, and at times I could hear Sara and Thomas heckling him from the stands: "Get off your knees blue, you're blowing the game!" I pitched five innings, gave up five hits and one earned run, and left with a 3-2 deficit. Kenji and Bert almost got a rally going, but Hagiwara was picked off second. David Gauthier caught me, their second string catcher. He had played in Australia the winter before, and I was impressed. He called a great game, had a cannon arm, and could block anything. Boris Marche, their regular catcher, played third, a power hitter with a hell of a swing. But the Belgium pitcher, though not overwhelming, was in control throughout. The Belgians weren't flashy or extremely talented, but were solid through and through. They didn't make many mistakes and played fundamentally sound. I picked up the loss but wasn't too disappointed in how I pitched. I proved that I could succeed at this level, and was as good as any of their other pitchers. Francois thanked me after the game, and I told him that I'd be back in a second if they needed any lefties next season. Thomas, Sara and I got back in the car, cranked up Lily Allen's "FUCK YOU" song, and tore up the road all the way back to Compiegne.

slumpbuster

2009-09-14T02:18:00.004-07:00

Haven't posted in eons due to a month-long trip through Spain and southern France. So here are some pics from Barcelona to get the blog rolling again.

Update: Um Ricka

2009-07-18T04:56:00.003-07:00

The hardest-working man in the DMV is back with his third mixtape, and his lineup of features stretches out the door and around the block. Wale is back with Back to the Feature, produced by 9th Wonder, a showcase of lyricism that would make even McFly's head spin. The highlight is hidden towards the end, like it snuck in the back, but I blogged it weeks before it dropped: Um Ricka, featuring K'naan, produced by Mark Ronson. Wale, who's parents were Nigerian immigrants, and K'naan, from Somalia, go back to their roots on this soulful and low-key track. K'naan is more known for his singing than his flows, but his first verse on this joint is ridiculous. Go peep.

LA Graf and Prop

2009-07-16T12:51:00.010-07:00

Graffiti and political poster art both exemplify the meeting point of social justice and media. Got two links for you today from Latin America.

My boy Aaron is a photographer living in Buenos Aires. He just got back from a trip to Rio where he took some incredible photos while working with artists in the favelas. Check out the rest of his pictures on his blog.

And from the analog age, peep this blog of Cuban political posters.

"Guerra y vida, amor y cambia" -Mos Def, No Hay Nada Mas

The 5&Dime's Twenty Best...

2009-07-16T09:35:00.011-07:00

Films of the decade (2000-2009) in chronological order:
Amores Perros (2000)
Traffic (2000)
Y Tu Mama Tambien (2001)
City of God (2002)
Crash (2004)
Hotel Rwanda (2004)
The Motorcycle Diaries (2004)
The Constant Gardener (2005)
Good Night and Good Luck (2005)
Syriana (2005)
Tsotsi (2005)
V for Vendetta (2005)
Babel (2006)
Children of Men (2006)
The Last King of Scotland (2006)
Into the Wild (2007)
No Country for Old Men (2007)
There Will be Blood (2007)
Che (2008)
Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

(Photo: 5&Dime original, Brick Lane, London)

Pac, Bob and Fela

2009-07-15T06:32:00.011-07:00

(Photo: 5&Dime original, Shepard Fairey print, London. Previous post's photo: 5&Dime original, Fete de Musique, Paris)

I was talking to my buddy Joanes the other day, a dude from French Guiana who's studying in France and lives in my building, about hip hop in the southern hemisphere. He said, unequivocally, that Pac is king. The only reason anyone knows about Biggie is because of the beef with Pac. No one listens to his music. I heard the same thing when I was living in South Africa. Tupac represented the struggles of the Third World, a cultural and political figure who was bigger than the music. Throughout Africa, the Caribbean and Latin America, Bob Marley, Tupac and Fela Kuti are king.

Down south

2009-07-15T04:49:00.009-07:00

El Presidente tore down the A1 in his Benz wagon on a hazy Saturday morning, darting through traffic as organ music that you would normally hear at a minor league game in Toledo or Albuquerque came through the German car's surround sound speakers. I was crammed in the back with one of the Taguchi brothers and the other American, Thomas in front, and Daniel, the president of the club, navigating through the Peugeots and Renaults, hell bent on reaching Montparnasse station in Paris in time for our train. It's a rare thing for Daniel to come to a game, much less an away game in the south, but rumor had it that he needed to broker a peace settlement between Jean-Claude and Luis ASAP, or the rest of the season would be in jeopardy.

Doubleheader Sunday in Boe, meaning we had to get the Saturday afternoon Bordeaux-Toulouse line to Agen and wrangle as many CBBCer's onto the TGV as possible. A good amount made it in time, stumbling onto the train with baseball bags in one hand and plastic bags full of beer in the other as the boarding call rang through the station. Luis was the last to board, hopping up from the platform as the doors closed behind him, not saying a word or acknowledging anyone on the team. He stood between cars until Daniel came to meet him, then the two of them stole away to the bar to try and salvage the relationship between the Paris and Compiegne factions of management.

The TGV cut through the countryside on a southwest diagonal to Bordeaux, then banking east towards Toulouse. Sun had burned the hillsides light brown, sloping to meet the irrigated bright green farmland. I lowered my shades onto my eyes as I stepped down from the train, felt the weight of my bag on my shoulder, and took in the town. Borders aren't lines, they blend and creep in both directions, ambiguous and amorphous. Agen was close enough to Spain that it took on those hybrid characteristics, less French than the North, a cool breeze kicking up dust just to be knocked right back down again by the heat.

Channels of communication concerning developments on the team are strained at best, with rumor substituting for announcements, further complicated by the language barrier between me and almost everyone else. So my standard procedure is to go with the flow and not ask too many questions. Besides the beef between Jean-Claude and Luis, I had gripes of my own. It had been five weeks since my last start on the mound, so the one thing that I knew for sure was that if I didn't get in seven solid on Sunday then I was out of there. Despite the efforts at detente, Luis avoided eye contact with the team at dinner, sitting at a separate table with Coca. I declined to make the effort to go talk to him, if he had something to say to me he could come and say it.

We woke early on Sunday in the laid back Southern town of Boe and hit the field as the sun started to crawl up the sky and the oppressive heat was coming on. I got the word that I would be pitching the first game and relaxed a bit. After throwing a complete game shutout without a word to my head coach, I went up to Luis and asked, "Estamos bien, o hay una problema?"
He grabbed me and said, "No No, no problema. I love you hermano!"
Luis and Jean-Claude managed to bandage, however flimsily, the widening chasm between Paris and Compiegne. We had avoided near disaster and despite the fact that we lost the second game the train ride back was a boozy, celebratory mess. After taking two easy ones at Gif this past weekend, we head into the last two games of the regular season sitting at 19-3, needing to win one of two against Rouen to overcome a late surge by PUC to finish in first place and grab the number one seed in September's playoff tournament.

Alto y bajo

2009-06-30T14:29:00.004-07:00

Luis looked at me from third base. He took a step and fired the ball over to me at first as hard as he could. I got the message. It's the most important phrase in Cuban baseball. It means: get your head in the game, listen to what I have to say, fix your body language and focus on the next pitch. All without uttering a single word.

A couple hours earlier, we were using plenty of words. Loud, heated, face to face, mostly Spanish with some French words. I hadn't pitched in a month, due to two off weeks sandwiched between two Sundays of games against the bottom of the league. Games that we had won before they started, where he wanted the 16 year old Cuban Leo to pitch instead of me so he could get work in. Which I understood. I also understood that Leo could have pitched for our lower level squad, and above all else I understood that I was in France to pitch. And going five weeks between starts was a waste of my time. So I tried to get Luis to understand that.

Exactly one month earlier I had thrown a five inning no-hitter against PUC, the second place team and our main competition. The game was called early on the mercy rule, and my no-hitter sullied by the PUC scorekeeper, who retroactively switched an error to a hit to avoid embarrassment. The PUC field, overgrown grass jaggedly framing the red dirt of the infield cutout, sprawling across a clearing in the Bois de Boulogne forest on the outskirts of Paris, reminded me of fields in the Caribbean. The only things missing were palm trees lining the outfield fence. It was a spectacle of wasted potential, a lack of caring for the field and for the players on it. The Paris field and team should be the jewel of French baseball. But no one wanted to put in the work.

A month later, my record was the same as it was at the end of that day in Paris, Leo had pitched poorly against Thiais, and Luis stormed off the field as soon as the game ended. An uneasy tension is struck when dealing with something that you think you care about immensely but devote minimal time to. This contradiction pulls at French baseball from different directions, threatening to tear it in two.

View from my window

2009-06-23T15:05:00.005-07:00

Compiegne, France, 10:32 am

New Slig

2009-06-19T06:25:00.007-07:00

1997: A young Sliggitay (then known as Nathan) memorizes the whole No Way Out album and constantly raps it. Dre is annoyed.

2001: Slo game is invented, the nickname Sliggitay is soon born.

2004: "Enoch Licks Nuts" tops the charts, Sliggitay becomes a worldwide sensation.

2009: Years of honing his craft have resulted in new slappers that are the best work that Sliggitay has put forth to date, including an official remix of a track by Chester French that originally featured the previously mentioned Sean Combs, Sliggitay's hero for more than a decade. Safe to say, Slig easily bests Combs on the track "Ciroc Star."

Working at a frenetic pace these days, the newest Slig tracks that warrant a listen are "Don't Move" and "Different Direction." Combining laid-back California drawl with the lightheartedness and soul of Southern rap, Slig is that rare artist that is equally enjoyable to listen to cruising through the town, sparking an L or at the club. Hailing from Berkeley, California, his rhymes have an unmistakable cadence and unique rhythm to them that separates him from the pack. He rides along with the beat at just the right tempo, driving the song but not overly dominating it. As for content, his realness is a breath of fresh air in that his rhymes don't contain the obnoxious boasting and bragging of mainstream artists nor the preachiness of the underground. The Slig sound is hard to label, but he's following close behind in the footsteps of Kid Cudi, is influenced by Devin the Dude and OutKast, and will soon be recognized as the vanguard of the next generation of hip-hop. Go peep:

Around the World

Pepe Le Pew

Ciroc Star remix ft. Sliggitay

Long Way to Go

Two thoughts on Iran

2009-06-19T04:58:00.007-07:00

1. "A leader is like a shepherd. He stays behind the flock, letting the most nimble go out ahead, whereupon the others follow, not realizing that all along they are being directed from behind." -Nelson Mandela

This is the essence of soft power, a trait that both Mousavi and Obama are exhibiting as the revolution slowly builds. Neither are bringing undo attention upon themselves, they are letting the people speak up and act on their own. There are many similarities between Mousavi and Obama, in terms of their place within their respective nations. Both are reformers yet seek reform within the current system, as opposed to overthrowing the system. Both rose to prominence in response to neocon dictators who openly mocked the democratic system, and both are fairly conventional and traditional in their beliefs and politics. And most importantly, both understand the power of social media in grassroots movement-building, and how a movement is most successful when the people take agency and act on their own to build the movement. Instead of passive followers, their supporters are active leaders themselves, and their tools are Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube.

I believe that this Green Revolution is the first concrete result of the Obama soft power foreign policy. It began in his inauguration speech, when he offered an open hand if Iran would unclench their fist, continued with the televised address to Iranians on their New Years, and culminated in the recent Cairo speech. In each circumstance he aligned himself with the people and appealed to them with the promise of openness and normalcy in relations. This empowered Iranians to take control of their own destiny, which wouldn't have happened if Obama hadn't taken those unique steps. This is especially stark when seen in contrast to McCain's demented "Bomb bomb Iran" Beach Boys cover and the war criminal Netanyahu's desire to destroy the very people who have risen up against Ahmadinejad. When was the last time an attempted coup was thwarted by a revolution that sought to restore the principles of a previous revolution? Now Obama and Mousavi are being discreet as the most nimble take to the streets.

2. As important as Web 2.0 social media have been to this revolution, it is premature to report the demise of mainstream media and traditional news sources. First, a distinction must be made between using social media to organize the protests and using it to report on actions on the ground. This is difficult because many users are both organizers and reporters. While media was once the filter between events and those who follow the events, it is now a live broadcast of the events themselves, and the media consumer must become the filter. This puts the agency on the reader to filter information to gain a broader picture. Secondly, while it seems like the whole media world is following live tweets and YouTube vids to gain up to the second updates on what is happening on the ground, it is actually a very small percentage of people who are doing so. Most of the world is still relying on the BBC, New York Times, CNN and other media giants. It will be a long time before blogs and Twitter take their place, despite the fact that to those following the blogs and tweets the mainstream media is completely inept, shamefully slow and increasingly irrelevant.

New Europe

2009-05-29T05:05:00.003-07:00

It was dusk in Zurich, the crisp Swiss mountain air tinged with early summer warmth, the sun ducking below the peak to the west, as I leaned back in my plastic patio chair, digesting the barbecue chicken, Haitian curry and potato salad. The apartment complex was buzzing with life, a hive-like structure where every balcony was occupied on a Saturday night too warm to be inside. To my left was my good friend and catcher, Gordon Toussaint, who I was visiting for the weekend. To my right was Mikhail, former linebacker at Central Ohio, player for the Zurich Renegades American football team, currently with aspirations to become the first African-American man to summit Everest. His wife, Yvonne, rose gingerly, plates in right hand, left hand on her swollen belly, nine months down and just days to go. Gordon’s girlfriend Samira stood to help. We were digesting more than chicken. At least I was. After a conversation that jumped from what it was like to be black in Europe these days to Mikhail’s trek through the Nepalese jungles and his six years in the US Army, my mind was working just as hard as my stomach. Gordon, who was French-Haitian, Yvonne (whose family was from Sierra Leone), and Mikhail, had swapped stories about being stopped (“controlled”) by transit cops and customs officials on a daily basis, trying to navigate life in a hostile homeland. Swiss neutrality and protectionism currently manifested as blatant racism. Modern French diversity striking a tense coexistence with French tradition. Tupac played in the background, a proper soundtrack, and the conversation always veered towards sports.

The night before I had stumbled off the TGV from Paris, into Gordon’s car, and off to practice with the Zurich Challengers baseball team. Bases were set up against a corner of a soccer pitch opposite the construction site where their gleaming new field was being built. A batting cage tucked against the edge of the field was the only permanent evidence of a baseball presence. Gordon introduced me to the coach, James, and to the ten or so players assembled. As we stretched and threw, James came up to me and said, “You look really familiar.” I asked him where he was from, and he said San Diego. Then I asked him what school he had gone to, and he told me UC San Diego. I looked at him again. Then it clicked. “You were the closer, right? From Chula Vista?” Yes! It had been six years, but I remembered him. James Sanders. I came so close to going to UCSD, it was a done deal until I chose Wesleyan at the last minute. I had gone down to SD the summer before my senior year of high school for the baseball camp, where he was one of the counselor/coaches. Then they brought me down again for a recruiting trip, and I had hung out with James for much of it. It was interesting to see what the talent was like on a team in Switzerland’s top division, and I realized that while they didn’t have anyone as good as our best players in France, they also didn’t have anyone as bad as our worst. After the practice, as the sky turned metallic gray and the bugs came out, we sat around the clubhouse and drank beers with the team. James and I talked about mutual friends and playing ball internationally. And after I told him my stats so far this season, he tried to recruit me to play for the Challengers next year. We had dispatched Gif and Rouen B handily the past two weekends, and my record had gone to 6-0, with a 0.18 ERA. I was one bunt single away from throwing a perfect game against Rouen B, and had amassed 71 strikeouts in my 38 innings of work this year. We were now 11-1 and sitting atop our pool at the halfway point of the season, and I needed to get out of town to clear my head before the second half. Zurich was the perfect place. While Gordon and Samira were at work, I climbed to the tallest peak in the area, a summit that gave views of snow-capped Alps along the horizon. Then I headed down to the lake for a swim, the glacier runoff that filled Lake Zurich reminding me of Tahoe in the summer, ideal on a day in the high 80’s. Zurich has a reputation for being a sanitized banking town, but in reality the local culture is just as much dominated by hipsters in North Face taking advantage of the outdoor sports opportunities in the area.

Gordon and Samira didn’t fit into either stereotype, being second-generation children of immigrants working white-collar corporate jobs but still facing the racism that is rampant throughout Europe. Western Europe, and France especially, is dealing with an existential identity crisis that is shaking white Europe to its core, what they see as an attack on the oldest of old world whiteness. The African and Caribbean immigrants that came to the country to rebuild in the decades following WWII stayed and started lives and families, and now the younger generation is reaching working age. That, combined with loose immigration laws, has fundamentally altered the landscape. Paris, in places, is now a chocolate city. And this is scaring the crap out of the whites. It’s beautiful karma for colonialism, reparations in the truest sense of the word. Yet the racial tension in France bubbles underneath, unspoken publicly, ignored. A recent call to count blacks in the census was shouted down, and compared with forcing Jews to wear Stars of David on their clothing. France sees itself as an idealized Republic in which race doesn’t exist, where they confuse equality with forced sameness. But pretending that racial differences don’t exist is not the same as accepting all races as equal. It doesn’t benefit the republic to ignore the massive disparities in wealth, health, education and opportunity that exist between whites and blacks. The more France represses these racial tensions, the greater the explosion will be when they rise to the surface. This national psychology is unhealthy, and an open, honest national conversation is the only thing that can help it. But this is impossible as long as Sarkozy is president, the thuggish former interior minister who vowed violence against the black youth rioting in Saint-Denis and the Neuf Trois not long ago.

As is true with every society, this tension is reflected in the country’s sports. That became apparent as I sat back and listened to Mikhail tell the story about why he left the Renegades football team. The head coach, a buddy of his, asked him to follow his motorcycle in the car so he could drop it off at the mechanics. As he pulled up behind the coach’s motorcycle, he did a double take at the guy’s bandana, feeling sick as he recognized the Confederate flag. It is reflected in the racially tinged rivalry between the country’s two preeminent soccer clubs, Olympique Marseille and Paris Saint-Germain, where the Paris fans shout epitaphs at the diverse Marseille squad. It is also reflected in the internal dynamics of my Compiegne baseball team. Started 25 years ago by Jean-Claude, it was a middling franchise in this rich city (nicknamed “the Imperial Town”), until taken over by Luis and infused with new blood. Most of the players from Paris are black, and to be honest, the team wouldn’t be much without them. Everyone gets along great, on the surface, but the white part of the team is undergoing the same identity crisis as the country as a whole. Is “Frenchness” inherently white? Can France retain its unique identity if it isn’t white? How can they reconcile their conception of themselves with the new demographic realities? These are the issues that Gordon is forced to confront on the train to work everyday, that Mikhail has dealt with in the year since he moved to Switzerland from the States. And as the courtyard of Gordon’s apartment complex dipped into darkness as the twilight receded and night took over, I wondered how French sports and society will react in the coming years to being shaded a bit darker as well.

Mars Doin' Work

2009-05-16T04:54:00.004-07:00

"[Spike] Lee's Kobe Doin' Work supposes that film tells the truth 24 times a second, the game 12 minutes per quarter, the body every moment of life." - Troy Patterson, Slate

Money it's gotta be the shoes!

Quote of the Day

2009-05-09T09:30:00.000-07:00

"Jean-Claude had his petanque balls stolen by the gypsies." -Thomas

Le TAG

2009-05-08T03:46:00.005-07:00

C'est fini, mais il a ete spectaculaire. Visitez le site pour video et photographies.

PUC

2009-05-05T15:00:00.008-07:00

Once the most dominant club in France, hands down, the Paris University Club (PUC) had fallen on hard times. This year the oldest and most storied franchise dropped from Elite to Nationale 1 for the first time in their history, their ranks depleted and a huge target on their backs. Yet a late inning comeback by GIF was the only stain on their near perfect record, and our matchup with them on the third of May was preceded by playoff-level anticipation. The night before I met a friend at the bar his parents own, Au Cervoisier, a bohemian hangout on the river where repurposed barrels serve as tables and reggae permeates every corner. We talked baseball over Belgian beer, and what a win Sunday would mean to the CBBC lifers. Especially to Coca, who coached PUC for his first seven years in France after moving here from Cuba, before defecting to Compiegne. Made my way over to Thomas and Pascal's flat afterwards to catch a game with them, Coca, and Gordan, the Haitian catcher from Paris who lives in Zurich. Remnants of two bottles of Havana Club and discarded pizza were on the table, Coca was melted into his chair with a big pair of designer shades on. Coca is a master at not expending energy until he absolutely has to, and equally adept and looking like he came straight from the pages of GQ at all possible moments. He arrived at the park Sunday morning in a khaki suit from his summer collection, although it was a bit premature as rain and the temperature fell. Coca will keep the suit on until right before he has to warm up for the game, and put it right back on as soon as the last out is made. He'll stand behind the dugout between innings and smoke cigarettes. He'll lead the team in RBIs all year long, and do whatever it takes to win. Especially against his former team.

I strolled over to the bullpen after warming up in the outfield before the first game. A Spicoli-looking guy was occupying the only mound, so I asked him in French how much longer he had. He was PUC's starting pitcher, and he looked at me and said in English, "No French, don't speak." Turns out that not only was the guy from Merced, he went to Fresno State and played ball there with one of my best friends from high school. So we had a Norcal-Norcal matchup on the hill for the first game. Unfortunately his defense made five errors, and although we both threw complete games it was never close. I ended up throwing a shutout, three hits, one walk, 12 strikeouts, and we won 5-0. PUC bounced back and won the second game, 9-5, giving us our first loss of the season and devastating our guys who had dreams of sweeping Paris. Losses build character though, and it had to happen at some point, so I wasn't particularly fazed. Was also pretty happy about pushing my record to 4-0, with a 0.27 ERA and 51 strikeouts in 26 innings. Coca was similarly unfazed, and he was beaming after our victory, khaki suit only slightly rumpled just as our record is now only slightly tarnished.

Two feasts

2009-05-05T06:57:00.007-07:00

(Photo of Paris-based graffiti artist JR and his work courtesy of bluejake.com)

"My new theory [was] that you could omit anything if you knew that you had omitted and the omitted part would strengthen the story and make people feel something more than they understood." -Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

Wednesday Paris trips serve two main purposes: a three o'clock baseball practice at Pere Lachaise, across the street from the cemetery, and a trip to Shakespeare & Co. to re-up on books. Spent too much on a couple of Hemingway books this trip, on April 29th, then had a couple hours to kill before practice. Walked along the Seine from the Latin Quarter to the Champs-Elysees and the Tower, stopping for Thai food, then took the train back for practice. Headed back out to Franconville, to Luis's house, for dinner, where Jean-Claude, his wife, and Seb Ferry joined for a big Cuban meal. Black beans and rice, chicken, flan and mojitos. Mucho mojitos. Luis keeps his head shaven to keep from looking his 52 years, but when the gray comes in he starts to look older than the spry third baseman who hit two doubles off the wall against BOE. Tonight, the wrinkles on his face looked more pronounced too as he got drunker and louder, getting in a yelling match with Jean-Claude, worried that our pitching isn't deep enough, after me. He was slouched on the couch, rubbing his belly, Cuban salsa in the background, frowning. He mixed me another mojito, and I raised it, saying, "Tranquilo man! Hasta la victoria, siempre." We clinked glasses and he relaxed a bit. We'll find more pitching options for the playoffs, and they're months away anyway.

Friday was a night for the Venezuela contingent. I went to Luis Aponte's house, also in Margny-Les-Compiegne, for a barbecue and the Cubs-Marlins game. A stack of Toulouse sausages on the grill on a warm night and cold Heineken's. Luis had come from Venezuela three years ago to do what I'm doing now, play for CBBC and live in Apart City. After his second season he got married and moved here permanently. Although he's playing for Bois-Guillaume this year, he and his wife Claire still live in Compiegne. Francisco, a retired Venezuelan catcher who was once on their national team, came by with his daughters and his brother, an assistant coach for the Elite Level team Senart. Omar and his girlfriend dropped by too. Chicago won, and I realized I'm using my Spanish as a crutch that's hurting the effort to learn French. Going to try to switch it up a bit, but it's hard when I'm hanging out with Cubans and Venezuelans all the time.

BOE

2009-05-05T06:21:00.005-07:00

(Photo of Paris graffiti from Flickr user Metrix)

On the night of Saturday, April 25th, the Indians of Boe Bon-Encontre boarded a TGV and struck north to take us on at our home field in Compiegne. They're the team within our pool that's farthest from us, trekking up from southern France for double-header beginning early Sunday morning, another rainy affair that signaled that the regular season was in full swing. Thin mist obscured the line between air and grass, blanketing everything as I warmed up in the outfield, eight a.m., watching them take BP, impressed, hopeful that they'd provide more competition than the last two teams. They were undoubtedly better, looking like a solid DIII squad, but we adjusted accordingly and beat them 10-3 and 12-2. I threw the first, a complete game with four hits, one earned run, a walk and 16 strikeouts. Seb and Bob combined to dominate five innings in the second before the mercy rule forced BOE to head to the train station early for a solemn ride back south. We were now in sole possession of first place, sitting at 6-0 after a surprising GIF team upset the mighty PUC (Paris University Club), who was set to come visit us the following Sunday for the biggest matchup yet in the young season.

Second week

2009-05-05T05:51:00.005-07:00

(Images of Paris graffiti to accompany select posts)

Sunday April 19 featured a double-header against Thiais, a team in our pool and a town on the Seine, southeast of Paris. Their field was set far back from the road and its boundaries overgrown with greenery. On this foggy, wet spring day it looked like the field had been carved from jungle, with only the roaring TGV tracks beyond the right field fence to remind of civilization's proximity. Took the first game handily, 13-0 when the mercy rule went into effect after the fifth. I threw all five, allowed one hit, one walk and struck out eight. The second game proved tougher, we ended up on top though the score was a more respectable 8-5. Luis was masterful in relief, Coca had clutch RBIs, and I went 4-4 with two doubles, three runs and two RBIs. Spoke with Giordano's father at length between games, very interesting guy. From Wisconsin originally but has been an expat jazz piano player and teacher in Paris for upwards of two decades. Going to catch his next gig in Paris on May 12th.

Opening Day

2009-04-17T03:40:00.009-07:00

Opened up the regular season at home on April 5 against Vaureal. Not too much to report. Won the first game 9-2, second game 14-3. I threw the first game, 7 inns, 2 hits, 0 ER, 15 K's. Went 2-3 with a walk, RBI and 3 runs scored in the second, playing center. Vaureal was pretty bad. Up to Amsterdam this past weekend. Saw two different baseball games from the train on Sunday, going through Netherlands on the way back to Paris. One was in a minor league size stadium. Baseball is becoming a very big deal up there. Without a doubt, the best way to build the popularity of baseball in a country is to have a strong national team. After strong showings in back to back WBC's and many Euro Cup championships, baseball is poised to match soccer in the Netherlands. Seems like the formula for building baseball is a top down and bottom up approach of having a successful national team while at the same time building the foundation for youth leagues.

Thai protests: seedlings of a Real Democracy

2009-04-14T11:16:00.004-07:00

To clarify my previous analysis, I was working under the sole assumption that the Red Shirts and Thaksin were inextricably linked, that Thai Rak Thai, PPP, UDD, and now these Red Shirts are all manifestations of the same sphere of power.

Giles Ji Ungpakorn of the Guardian seems to believe that the new movement, Real Democracy, that is being born from the fight of the Red Shirts has the ability to separate itself from the pillars of Thai power (the monarchy and army, Thaksin and Thai Rak Thai) that have controlled the country forever. Thaksin's original rise to power shaped itself as a faux-populism to fill a vacuum on the left, which he betrayed immediately.

If Real Democracy was able to break away from Thaksin completely and actually fill the void on the left, I would be in support of it. But honestly, I don't think that it's feasible. If neither the side of the monarchy and army, nor the side of the business elites and the rural poor, has the grassroots and structural ability to provide stability, it is hard to see how Real Democracy can. If the grassroots grow and spread, however, it may just be the only glimmer of hope for a sustainable solution.

Thai street clashes: seeing through the smoke

2009-04-13T03:42:00.014-07:00

Whether an inept attempt at objectivity or simply woefully ignorant of the relevant forces of history and background, international media have ignored the most vital information in coverage of the Bangkok street clashes of the last 48 hours. From the Guardian to the BBC to the New York Times, these events are conveyed at the most superficial level possible, with no desire to explain the forces at work that have led to the current situation. The most egregious omissions include the lack of information supplied about Thaksin's actual history and the elephant in the room, the opinions and influence of King Bhumibol Adulyadej.

The images coming out of Thailand are significantly shocking enough to warrant top headlines, but the understanding of the situation has fallen far behind the photos of burning tires and tear gas. Deemed "anti-government protesters" by every major news organization, the Red Shirts are being made out to seem like a positive force of revolution against a corrupt government. But the reality is exactly the opposite. The Red Shirt protesters are pawns of deposed Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, whose utter disrespect for the constitution and his business-friendly, pro-Bush and IMF attitudes led to his ousting in the first place. Yet the Guardian describes him as, "a deeply divisive figure... popular with the rural poor but largely loathed by urban Thais." This characterization is dangerously ignorant. Thaksin, a telecom billionaire, rose to power with the support of the financial sector, the country's elite, and with the international financial community. Promising a friendship with then-US President Bush, Thaksin's electoral base was a Reagan-esque coalition of the country's elite and rural poor who he bribed with the bread crumbs of free cell phones and cheaper health care. While in office, Thaksin's reign was characterized by mass nepotism, total censorship of the press, and corruption at every level of business and government. Yet CNN quotes one of Thaksin's supporters calling the protests, "a starting point of the people's uprising against the old power," while omitting any mention of Thaksin's attempt to create a corporatist state.

Thaksin's opposition includes the entire middle class, Thai academia, the bureaucracy, a large swath of both urban and rural poor, and the King himself. Yet the international media have lazily forced this completely unique situation into the tired narrative of uprising instead of the looking at the facts themselves, and have accepted Thaksin's double speak rhetoric of calling for "revolution" from his exile abroad.

The reason that the Thai political situation is so confusing to outsiders is that it doesn't conform to the narratives that people are used to. There is no clear delineation along class lines, cultural lines, or ethnic lines. The clearest understanding sees the situation as those who are motivated by self interest in opposition with those who support the King. But this still leaves out a large chunk of the population that can't be put into one group. The two main groups of protesters in the last few months have been the People's Alliance for Democracy's (PAD) Yellow Shirts against the United Front for Democracy Against Dictatorship's (UDD) Red Shirts. The PAD's Yellow Shirts represent the color of Thai royalty, and many include the royal crest on them. These supporters of the King ousted Thaksin's brother in law, Prime Minister Somchai Wongsawat, in September of 2008, leading to current Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva's reign. Abhisit represents the Democrat Party, a promising political entity that is simply not strong enough yet, on a structural and grassroots level, to deliver the stability that is needed of them to counter Thaksin's UDD and Thai Rak Thai base. Now the Thaksin-supporting UDD Red Shirts are trying to overthrow Abhisit.

The only way out of this endless cycle of coups and rotating prime ministers is for the King, who has been completely silent so far, to come forward and strongly condemn the Red Shirts and Thaksin's attempt to regain power, and throw his support behind the Democrat Party. Yet as long as misinformation is disseminated by the international media, confusion will continue to reign both in the streets and in people's understanding of the situation.

At least some newspapers are still innovative

2009-04-07T04:12:00.005-07:00

And have guts, too. Small Zimbabwe newspaper advertises on hyperinflated, worthless currency. Via Wooster Collective:

Predictions: American League

2009-04-07T02:30:00.003-07:00

AL West: Oakland
By far the worst division in baseball. The Angles have the worst defense in the game. An aging Torii Hunter is going to be expected to get to everything in the outfield while Vlad Guerrero and Abreu stumble around like zombies. Their top three pitchers are hurt and their bullpen wasn't great to begin with. Texas is one of the most despicable franchises in sports, due to their refusal for the last 15 years to even attempt to get pitching. The pathetic thing is, they still probably think that the Josh Hamilton trade was a good one. But if they still had Edinson Volquez, I think they'd win the division this year. Seattle is a mess. So that leaves Oakland. Matt Holliday is one of the best all around players in the game. Cabrera was a steal. If Duchscherer comes back healthy and Anderson and Cahill step up and fulfill their potential, then the A's will have the best rotation in the division. If not, then Beane is going to trade Holliday at the deadline. If this happens, they really shouldn't let anyone from this division make the playoffs.

AL Central: Cleveland
Fausto Carmona is going to have a big year, Cliff Lee won't replicate his career year but will be very solid. Sizemore is great, everyone expects big things from Victor Martinez and Jhonny this year, and I love Shin-Shoo Choo. DeRosa is a great chemistry/clubhouse guy. You can't take the White Sox seriously with Jose Contreras and the marshmallow known as Bartolo Colon in the rotation. Liriano is Minnesota's ace, and he's a big question mark himself. Detroit will come in second in the division. Their bullpen might be the worst in baseball, but they have a dream lineup and some very good starters. Miguel Cabrera: Triple Crown.

AL East: Tampa Bay
So here's my big prediction this year, that goes against what everyone in baseball is saying: CC Sabathia is going to suck. He started off last year badly for Cleveland, then he sort of got it together by the trading deadline. The reason he was so dominant for Milwaukee was that boost you get going from the AL to the NL as a pitcher. If he had a full year in the NL he would have come back to earth. I saw a game in Oakland a couple years ago, CC against Zito. CC was hitting 99-101 on almost every fastball, but they were all thigh high and not moving. He couldn't locate his breaking ball consistently. So the Oakland hitters sat on the fastball and crushed it. Zito was throwing 86-88 at the knees with movement and was breaking off his huge 12-6. Sabathia gave up something like seven runs in three innings that day, Zito had a CG. That is the AL Sabathia. He's also pitched his entire career in tiny markets, and is entirely unprepared for the New York media pressure. Statistically, Derek Jeter is Placido Palanco with five more home runs. Teixeira is going to press too hard. The Yankees are weak up the middle. Burnett and Wang are injury liabilities. The A-Rod debacle is going to hover around them all year, sucking the life out of the team.

Boston has the best 1-2-3 top of the rotation in baseball. But once every five days, Tim Wakefield is actually going to pitch. For the Red Sox. In the Major Leagues. Jason Varitek is a worse hitter than most pitchers. Lowell and Drew have all sorts of nagging injuries that aren't getting better, and they aren't getting any younger. They probably have the best 1-5 in the game though, with Ellsbury, Pedroia, Youkilis, Papi and Bay. It is going to be a tight race, but Tampa Bay is the better team, top to bottom. They really only have one question mark, and that's Troy Percival at closer. If he can stay healthy, they just don't have any holes whatsoever. Garza and Kazmir are going to make huge leaps this year. Longoria might be MVP. Carl Crawford is poised to go nuts. And their trump card is just hovering on the horizon, ready to come up and get huge outs in whatever role they put him in: David Price.

Wild Card: Boston

American League Champs: Tampa Bay

Predictions: National League

2009-04-07T01:04:00.005-07:00

NL West: Arizona
Best top of the rotation 1-2 punch in the NL. Max Scherzer has the ability to make that into the best 1-2-3. Biggest question mark is the bullpen, second is run production. They don't have that one guy that can be a definite 35 HR, 100 RBI guy, but tons of young talent at almost every position. Would like to see Eric Byrnes come back strong so Conor Jackson can move back to his natural position at first. I love the Dodgers lineup, but their rotation is far too big a question mark for them to take this division. If you're calling Chad Billingsley your ace, you're in trouble. Count on them to score a ton of runs though. Giants have one of the best young rotations in baseball and a surprisingly good pen, but they are still a year or two away. Would like to see Burriss take over for Renteria at short and give Velez a chance at second, but that's a bit too much youth to ask of Brian Sabean. They must have had to tie him to a chair and tape his mouth so he wouldn't go out and try to get Sheffield or Griffey.

NL Central: Chicago
Cincinnati is going surprise a lot of people in this division, especially if Harang can turn it around this year. Chicago has the firepower but not the pitching depth; Harden will be on the DL by May, Lilly is getting up there in age, and the bullpen is underwhelming. Look for them to trade for a starter at the deadline. The whole division lacks pitching, especially front end of the rotation. Edinson Volquez might be the best pitcher in the division. Expect big years from Jay Bruce and Joey Votto, but Cinci is still a year away. Milwaukee is really going to miss CC and Sheets, St. Louis has nothing in the rotation behind Wainwright.

NL East: Philadelphia
Again, this is more by default than anything. All these contenders in the Central and East have major flaws. How can the two top contenders in the NL East have Livan Hernandez, Jamie Moyer and the late Chan Ho Park in their rotations? The Mets have a legitimate bullpen and the best left side of the infield in baseball, but that's it. I really like this Florida team. Strong up the middle, with Maybin in center, one of the best double play combos in baseball in Ramirez and Uggla, and my boy John Baker from Cal behind the plate. Really like Nolasco and Andrew Miller. My prediction: Johan doesn't stay healthy, the Mets rotation implodes, and the Marlins come in second in the division. Also Jair Jurrjens is going have a big year for Atlanta.

Wild Card: Cincinnati

National League Champs: Chicago

World Series: Tampa Bay over Chicago

I'm Africa's rap Bruce Lee

2009-04-04T12:00:00.006-07:00

Been listening to this new K'naan album on repeat recently, best album of the year so far and one of my favorites in a long long time. The track If Rap Gets Jealous goes crazy hard. Bona fide 5&Dime favorite. Now the next level part: according to a tweet that Wale sent out two hours ago, there's a Wale and K'naan collabo, produced by Mark Ronson, that's getting ready to drop. Get juiced.

One world, one game

2009-04-02T14:06:00.005-07:00

Doug Glanville, ex-Phillie and Penn grad, has a great article in Today's New York Times on international baseball and diversity in the game. He's no Bouton, but has a couple money quotes:

"The game has truly gone global, in the process bringing in tremendous new talent. Just recently, a player named Gift Ngoepe became the first black South African to sign a professional baseball contract. Soon baseball scouts will have to cover the entire planet or risk missing a superstar who might not only help an organization win games, but also open up a new market for the business of the game."

He's still looking at the game from an MLB perspective though, with the assumption that the US is the center of the baseball world. These days, that's an assumption we gotta reject. Glanville does, however, perfectly capture the potential of an international pastime:

"If you want to survive as a unit, you have to figure out how to work in harmony. Once you taste the power of pooling global, cultural and economic diversity...it is almost impossible not to have a new understanding of how much people really have in common and how much further we can go together when we respect that power."

Much has been written on soccer's ability to bring nations together, but baseball's potential far surpasses soccer's due to the fact that teams are together day in and day out. If baseball's popularity ever reaches soccer's level worldwide, we will see an unprecedented mix of sports and politics and have a brand new tool for cultural diplomacy and exchange.

Structural differences in international baseball

2009-04-01T04:57:00.003-07:00

Recently I've been thinking a lot, and talking with different people, about the structural differences in baseball from country to country. By comparing how different nations approach structuring the levels of play, we can figure out what is best for development of the game and development of young players.

In the US, it is taken for granted that kids play in an independent youth league up until around age 13, and from then on it is mostly administered through the schools (with the exception of summer league/travel teams). Junior high school ball, then high school, then either junior college or one of three NCAA levels. Then the small percentage of players that are skilled enough to make it through this atom-sized wormhole of competitive baseball keep on playing professionally, either in independent minor league ball or through the draft. For everyone else, after they've reached the highest point at which their skills allow them to compete relative to their age and schooling, they retire. For all intents and purposes, their careers are over.

When baseball first came to Europe, they modeled the structure of the game based on the only system that they knew: the club system (as in futbol clubs). A club, like Olympique Lyonnais in France or Manchester United, will have levels for each age group coming up through the ranks, and pick and siphon players through their own system. All other kids play for their city club team, or just on the streets with their friends, and either get good enough to play for an adult-aged club of some varying level or move on. If you want to keep playing, you can always play, just for a lower level club if you aren't good enough.

European baseball is modeled along these lines. In the US, players make a huge jump in skill when they go from high school to college. In Europe, that's the worst time for players. Even the best ones will go off to university and go from playing baseball three or four times a week to playing once a week, often not at all in the winter. Baseball is simply not popular enough for players to dedicate themselves to major clubs at the age of 18, which is how its done for soccer. According to Pascal Maitrot, the CBBC treasurer, players often get worse through their university years, but then come back to the game after college. This is when players dedicate themselves, and when the best players for the Elite level and National Team emerge. But by then it's too late to really make a mark.

The biggest problem in French baseball isn't facilities, coaching, or talent. It's that the players don't play enough. This can be blamed on modeling the game after the soccer club system. Soccer is the most popular game in the world, you can't model a game with little to no popularity on the same system as soccer. The only way for European and Australian baseball to make the jump up to the level of East Asia and the Americas is to restructure the game on the school system.

Patria (y beisbol) o Muerte

2009-03-26T12:23:00.007-07:00

As the decades have passed and the inexplicable US embargo on Cuba has persevered, France has emerged as a destination for Cuban immigrants that want greater economic opportunity but also the ability to return to their homeland. Many have brought their religion with them--baseball. When I was sitting in Luis' living room outside of Paris last week, I tried to tell him about when I played in Cuba back in 2001. The language barrier made it difficult, but if my French ever gets good enough, I'll tell him that my first encounter with Cuban baseball didn't go as well as I had hoped.

It was the bottom of the first inning and already I was in trouble. The leadoff walk I allowed could be chalked up to nerves, but the next batter had doubled and was dancing off second. I could tell he was stealing signs from my catcher and relaying them to the batter. I threw one high and tight, knocking their three hitter to the ground. As he dusted the heavy red clay off of his jersey, I took two steps toward home plate from the mound and yelled, “No roban! No roban!” “Don’t steal! Don’t steal!” Their third base coach looked at me knowingly, and I saw behind him a row of schoolchildren in their uniforms lined up at the fence, grasping the wires and pushing forward, each wanting to break down the fence that separated us and play the game they loved. We were at a field in a small village outside of Guanabacoa, Cuba, on a blazing July day in 2001. The bus had wound its way through unpaved roads framed by jungle to reach the town, and it seemed as if everyone had taken the afternoon off to watch the American gringos face the 16 and under Cuban National Team. People were draped over the crumbling concrete stands, drinking rum and smoking cigars in the afternoon sun, and after the third inning the fans from our diverse Oakland team were indistinguishable from the Cubans. As the rum flowed, chants and songs dominated the cheering, and the fans spilled onto the top of the dugouts, down the foul lines, and in front of the giant palm trees that shadowed the outfield fence. The game wasn’t much of a contest, with the vastly superior Cubans dominating from start to finish, but the fans didn’t particularly care. I did, however, and found myself screaming at the umpire in Spanish. “No puede salir antes del pitch!” The batter had taken off to first before the umpire could possibly have decided whether the 3-1 fastball was a ball or strike.

Four years later I met an American who had been in Cuba at that time and was in a bar on the other side of the island watching my outrage on television. The six games between a team of 16-year olds from inner city Oakland, California and the young Cuban stars were broadcast nationally, a sign that nothing was more important to the people of Cuba than showing their national superiority through the game they loved. This wasn’t just a match between two teams of 16 year-olds. This was between Cuba and the United States. This was capitalist greed versus communism. This was Che and Fidel overthrowing Batista, this was the triumph of a disastrous Bay of Pigs assault. This is a reason to endure crumbling infrastructure for the sake of national pride. This is baseball, and Cuba is baseball.

Concepts of nationality construct the dynamic relationship that Cuban baseball players have with their country. An emphasis on nationality is prevalent in all of Cuban society, not just the baseball world, yet it illustrates the strong link between baseball and national identity for Cubans. Early on in the fight for independence from Spain, baseball was a way to distinguish one’s self from the Spanish colonizers and identify as Cuban. Baseball was in opposition to the ideas of the Spanish, and to play was to align with the emerging creole culture, vastly important to the psychology of independence. The Spanish saw baseball as a rebel game, yet the criollos of the island viewed it as modern and progressive compared to the barbaric bullfighting rituals of Spain. The book Full Count: Inside Cuban Baseball quotes Gilberto Dihigo, son of Martin Dihigo, one of the greatest Cuban baseball players of all time, saying that, “Baseball is the national sport of Cuba, and baseball is part of the nacionalidad cubana [Cuban national identity]. Cuba is identified with sugar cane, tobacco, music, and baseball-in no particular order. These are the four essential elements which define Cuba.” These are the ways in which Cubans define themselves to themselves, but also how they define themselves to the rest of Latin America and the world in general. Baseball thrives in the Dominican Republic, Venezuela, Puerto Rico, Panama and Mexico, and it was Cuba that first brought the game to those nations. Cubans have always been described as the apostles of baseball. The elements of a rich Cuban culture all come together at the ballpark, as music and tobacco smoke fill the air and the choreography of movement of the national game melds with the vibrant movement of dancers, and a violent passion for the game and for the nation is expressed.

From the often-told myth of Fidel the pitching prospect to the continuing fights over the defection of Cuban players to American professional baseball, politics and baseball have always been linked in Cuba. This link began at the very beginning of Cuban baseball, with the founding father of professional baseball in Cuba himself, Emilio Sabourin. According to Mark Rucker and Peter Bjarkman's great book Smoke: The Romance and Lore of Cuban Baseball, Sabourin was known as a fierce patriot and supporter of Jose Marti’s revolutionary war for independence from Spain, and he contributed a percentage of gate receipts to the revolutionary. Gilberto Dihigo notes that, “…there is a long list of baseball players who died fighting for the independence of Cuba. Baseball clearly distinguished Spaniards from Cubans, and this is where the Cuban love of baseball begins.” Martin Dihigo, nicknamed El Inmortal, is the only Cuban inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown and widely considered one of the greatest players in Cuban history. Dihigo played in many countries throughout Latin America, and was playing in Mexico City in the early 1950s when he met a young revolutionary named Ernesto “Che” Guevara. Dihigo gave money to Che and Fidel to help them secure the boat Granma that took them and 84 others from Mexico City to Cuba, starting the revolutionary war that would oust Batista in 1959.

At a time when baseball is beginning to flourish internationally, not just in the Caribbean and East Asia but in Europe, Australia and South America as well, Cuba shows the world a game not diluted or tarnished by steroids, corporate greed, and absurd contracts. That is the game that Luis has brought with him to Compiegne, and French baseball is similarly untouched by greed and excess. Compiegne's Cuban ties were one of the reasons why I chose this team to play for. A decade after Luis left his homeland, and eight years after my time there, I'm hoping we can transfer some of that Cuban flavor onto the blank slate that is French baseball.

Olympic domino effect

2009-03-22T06:53:00.006-07:00

In 2005, the International Olympic Committee ruled that as of 2012 baseball and softball would no longer be part of the Olympic Games. Their hazy rationale was that the sports were dominated by too few countries (true in softball, absurd in baseball), that the stadiums were too costly to build for single sport use, and that the world's best players weren't participating.

This decision is having unintended repercussions for the development of the sport of baseball internationally. In many nations where baseball is young, the sport receives much of its funding from the country's Olympic fund. Now that baseball is no longer an Olympic sport, a large chunk of the funding that is vital to the growth of infrastructure and coaching has dried up. Thomas Dormard, club secretary for CBBC, told me that the French baseball federation receives more than 40% of its money from the Comite National Olympique et Sportif Francais (CNOSF). That funding has now been cut off, a harsh blow for a country that needs all the money it can get to pay for youth leagues, coaching and facilities. In Lithuania, another burgeoning baseball country, 2009 government funding has been cut in half due to a combination of the economic crisis and baseball's exclusion from the 2012 games. According to Will Gordan, Director of Foreign Affairs and Game Development for the Lithuanian Baseball Association, "It is hard to say which has had a bigger affect: the economic crisis or the fact that baseball is no longer in the Olympics. In a country where we are already making our pitch for the legitimacy of baseball, the fact that it is not in the upcoming Olympics does not help things."

The IOC has left the door open for baseball to return in the future, but by banishing it from the games for the present time it has unwittingly aborted any chance for real growth in areas beyond North America, the Caribbean and East Asia. Europe, Australia, Southeast Asia and South Africa will be especially hard hit. The only responsible thing to do would be for the IOC to set aside a fund for nations that are developing baseball to tap into so that the game can grow and spread despite its absence from the Olympics.

After the crash

2009-03-22T03:43:00.008-07:00

"Baseball made a decision, I believe, that the way to get the people back to the ballpark [after the '94 strike]...was to create the long ball." -Pete Rose, in an interview on Dave Zirin's Edge of Sports Radio.

Steroids are not, and never were, a problem, they were a symptom. The root cause was the corporatization of the game by MLB. Commissioner Bud Selig decided that after the 1994 strike the way to save his company (MLB) and increase profits was to create a more fan-friendly game, which meant more home runs. The strike zone shrunk, new ballparks shrunk, northern white ash turned to maple and Selig turned the other cheek on obvious steroid use.

What is interesting about this is the timing. The steroid bubble grew concurrently with the economic bubble (housing, subprime mortgages and derivatives markets), both went unchecked due to unregulated and unrepentant capitalism, and both seem to have burst at the same time. The era of power hitters, power pitchers, power brokers and power bankers is over. It will be replaced with an era of smarts and efficiency. Obama is the smart president; the economy will be rebuilt smarter, with green jobs and energy efficiency the buzzwords. Instead of one-dimensional sluggers, we'll see a rise of five tool players, from Hanley Ramirez to Evan Longoria to Grady Sizemore.

How do strikes and the economic crisis affect French baseball? Woke up Thursday morning knowing there was a general strike on that day throughout the country, but with that knowledge in the back of my mind. Splashed some water on my face, grabbed my gym bag, and hopped on my bike to head over to the gym for a work out. Crossed under the train tracks across the street from my apartment, came up from the underground to face a sea of people stretching across the bridge that spans the Oise river and as far as I could see both up the river and into town. There were an estimated 10,000 people at the Compiegne protest out of a population of just 50,000. This round of demonstrations and strikes featured an unprecedented mix of both public and private sector workers. At the heart of the Compiegne protest were recently laid off workers from the Continental tire company in Clairoix, right outside of Compiegne. The tire factory was one of Compiegne's major employers.

The ex-Continental workers rolled a stack of tires to the foot of an old statue on my side of the river, doused them in gas and set them on fire. Dark black smoke billowed up hundreds of feet in the air. The march took off across the bridge, took a right and passed down by the river towards the university, then snaked back up through the cobblestone streets, past small patisseries, brassieries and bars, all shut down and with union flags in the windows. The rank and file had a decidedly anarchist swagger about them, dressed in all black, drawings of skulls pinned to their backs. It ended at the center of town where the massive, classic Hotel de Ville, the town hall, faces a statue of Joan of Arc on the other side of the square. Another tire fire was lit in front of the town hall and the marchers filled the square. The anger was directed at the French government and Sarkozy in particular for their handling of the economic crisis.

Strikes mean a day off, so Thursday afternoon the team practiced and barbecued at the field. The clubhouse behind the backstop doubles as a hang out spot for the team. The fridge is always stocked with beer and food and there's a grill outside. Blasted merengue on the boombox, ate Toulouse sausages, drank Kronenbourg beer. All in all, a positive thing for the game.

(Sidenote: Later on in the interview, Rose said that the toughest pitcher he ever faced was Juan Marichal. Not Koufax, Drysdale or Gibson. Former Met Art Shamsky, when he was my manager in the IBL, said the same exact thing. I think Marichal might be a bit underrated these days.)

Chartres

2009-03-21T12:21:00.007-07:00

There's only so much you can learn about baseball from Major League II and grainy VHS tapes of the '86 series. At some point you have to live it to learn it and play it enough that you know it inside and out. French baseball players look like they get it, but they don't really get it. They have the gear, they have the mannerisms. But there's something missing. The foundation is missing. You can only learn so much of a language from textbooks and teachers, at some point you have to actually go to the country and speak with the people. French baseball players can conjugate verbs and order dinner, but they can't curse or write poetry.

Case in point: last weekend at the Chartres tournament. One of the teams had a runner on first with no outs. A bunt and run must have been on, because the runner took off while the pitcher was still in the stretch while the hitter squared. No one told the pitcher to step off the rubber and throw the guy out. Instead, he delivered the pitch with the runner more than halfway to second. But for whatever reason, the batter still tried to put down the bunt. Of course he fouled it off, and the runner had to return to first. The batter understood what a bunt and run was, but he didn't understand the reasoning behind it. He didn't get that the goal was simply to move the runner to second, a goal that had already been accomplished by the ridiculous jump. On the surface, the understanding is there, but the why is what's missing. Baseball is held together by a subtle rationale that exists as an undercurrent below the rules, below the surface of the playing field. It's invisible, inherent, and the game falls apart if it is ignored or misunderstood.

We swept four games in two days in Chartres and won the tournament handily. Beautiful field, set in the pristine countryside of western France, tucked between farms on the outskirts of a town consisting of narrow cobblestone streets and a stunning cathedral built hundreds of years ago. These tournaments have the feel of a reunion of sorts for the small world that is French baseball; everyone knows each other, and there was palpable energy and excitement in the air for the beginning of the season. I'm hoping that I can convey some of the subtleties of the game while I'm here, fill in some of the missing pieces. Threw a complete game in the championship game, zero earned runs, 12 K's, and won the tournament MVP award. Was given a sweet baseball bag for winning the award, the shiny Japanese kind that all French players buy. Starting to think that their money would be better spent on a DVD of Bull Durham. Watched over and over and over again.

Cuba Grill

2009-03-16T04:42:00.004-07:00

Shout to JLA for hooking up the 5&Dime header with this amazing photo he took in Cuba a couple years back.

Baseball a Paris

2009-03-13T14:24:00.010-07:00

The usually bustling Gare du Nord was quiet early Wednesday afternoon, just before the rush hour swarm hit. Two metros from Paris Nord, guided by Giordano Makholm, the catcher, and we were at the Pere Lachaise station. Gear in hand, we stepped up into the concrete playground nestled in the urban canyon, situated directly across from an elegant cemetery. Patches of grass are hard to come by in this sprawling city; the closest baseball field is 40 minutes away by several trains, the home field of fellow Nationale 1 team Paris UC. A stretch of track bordered the western edge of the playground, the once-malleable rubber hardened by time and weather until it matched the surrounding concrete in all but color.

We were half an hour early and the area was crawling with five year old future Makelele's. Set up in a corner, I stretched out and waited for Pat to arrive. Patrick Carlson, raised in Paris, has some American parentage I believe, played JC ball in SoCal, LHP. Seeking a graduate degree in finance, playing for a German team in a border town this season. Luis' ulterior motive for suggesting I come down to Paris for this workout was to recruit Pat for Compiegne. Recruitment was a failure, but the workout wasn't. Got in some long toss and a flat ground bullpen, accompanied by inquisitive stares from elderly Parisians with yellowed mustaches playing bocce ball on a pitch adjacent to our asphalt Wrigley.

Back onto the train to head into the Paris suburbs to Luis' home for the evening. Franconville stop, across the tracks and into a tract development of cookie cutter homes. Mario came over, and soon after Bouba roared up on his motorcycle. Bottle of Johnny Walker, chicken and rice, and the FC Barcelona-Olympique Lyonnais match. Two scores by Henry against his home nation's club, and a disappointed Jose, young son of Luis and OL fan. As the Walker disappeared, the conversation became a flurry of Spanish, French and English, with baseball always at the eye of the storm.

Rose early to get a ride to the train station with Luis. Cup of coffee in the Latin Quarter, then met Candice, former co-All Star intern at Wired, at Notre Dame. Snuck into the Institut du Monde Arabe and took the elevator to the roof for a dope view of the city. A stop at Shakespeare and Co. then Montmartre for lunch, Cimetière de Montmartre, another great view from Sacre-Coeur, and drinks next to the Moulin Rouge. Luis is going to try and get the team to pay for my train fare into Paris for Wednesday workouts...I could definitely get used to weekly jaunts to Paris.

The first and last list ever to appear on the 5&Dime...

2009-03-12T15:41:00.006-07:00

Top five MC's of all time:
1. Tupac Shakur
2. Rakim
3. Big Daddy Kane
4. Black Thought
5. Nas

Top five rap groups of all time:
1. OutKast
2. The Roots
3. Run DMC
4. Public Enemy
5. NWA

Top five producers of all time:
1. Dr. Dre
2. DJ Premier
3. J Dilla
4. Pharrell
5. Pete Rock

Top five underground MC's/groups of all time:
1. Del/Hieroglyphics
2. Mos Def
3. Gift of Gab
4. Boots Riley/The Coup
5. Talib Kweli

First weekend

2009-03-10T09:12:00.004-07:00

Rain fell incessantly on Sunday, turning the already soggy field to swamp. The ragtag group in mismatched socks and pants all had "Gothics" across their chests. I was exhausted from doing jumping jacks in center just to keep warm. You know it's cold when you're tired from the running necessary just to stay loose. They didn't want to pitch to me, so I ended up with a single and three walks, two runs scored, and not nearly enough plays in center to keep my neck and back from tightening up over the course of seven innings. I looked over at Bouba in left in the fifth and he was doing pushups between pitches. Boubakar Guaye, 26, probably the best all around player on the team. He and I had most of the production in the game, along with Coca. Coca hit cleanup. A 48 year old Cuban DH who smoked cigarettes behind the dugout between innings and hit with a hoodie tucked up under his helmet. Huge guy. Juan Coca. I started calling him Ron Coca after he put away a whole bottle's worth of Havana Club in Cuba Libres the night before. Probably why he looked so miserable in the rain all day.

Saturday night, after a four hour practice, the Paris contingent of our team came over to Thomas and Pascal's to watch the WBC. Caught Netherlands upsetting the DR, then watched a great USA-Canada game. Luis, our 52 year old manager who moved to Paris from Cuba a decade ago. Mario, assistant coach, originally from Nicaragua. Two 15 year old kids, one Cuban and one half American, who played with us this weekend. Bouba didn't drink, probably has something to do with the fact that he's a nurse, and neither did the kids. Everyone else was putting away the ron de Cuba like it was nothing. Coca sat there all night, calling everyone gay and railing on the US. He asked me to pass him the Coke. I said nah, it's an American drink. You can't pollute your Cuban rum with the black waters of imperialism. Everyone was rooting for the underdogs, excited when the Dutch pulled it out, disappointed that Canada didn't.

Started on the hill the second game on Sunday. Hadn't wanted to pitch because it was so cold and my back had tightened up, but I couldn't really explain that to Luis. He had started grinning when I took the first pitch out in BP on Saturday, and didn't stop all that night or the next day. He kept hugging me and saying, "Good player! Really good player!" So I told him I'd throw two innings. Sun shone through for the first time all day when I was warming up in the pen. Felt pretty good on the bump, all things considered. Struck out five of six batters I faced, but walked a couple. Think we ended up losing that second one, but they were preseason scrimmages so it didn't really matter. More important games next weekend; a tournament in Chartres in central France, home to a famous Middle Ages cathedral and the Chartres French Cubs.

Livin' large

2009-03-10T08:46:00.001-07:00

It's the little things that make the quality of life so good here:

The buses go everywhere, run on time, are frequent, and are completely free. Meaning no dropping 50 bones on a transit pass every month.
The gym is free to anyone who is part of an official or even club team in the city. State of the art facilities. Indoor and outdoor tracks. Weight room and locker room. Gym membership? Naht eeeven. Saves another 60 or so.
Cell phone platforms are far more open: phones themselves aren't tied to service or carriers. Meaning you can buy a phone, then pick what service and network you want.
Good cheap wine. Cote du Rhone Cab Sav for 2.50 euros? Sounds good.
The Simpsons in French. Worth it just to hear how they dub Moe's voice.

More to come.

A New Radio

2009-03-06T05:42:00.000-08:00

The best duo in the game has a new album. Zion I's The TakeOver came out at the end of January and might be their best yet. Amp Live is the most underrated producer out. This track, Radio, goes the hardest.

Zion I - Radio

Heen and Pine

2009-03-06T05:18:00.000-08:00

Jean-Claude's son works for Hennessy, in the Cognac region of France. Apparently VSOP is crap, XO is pretty good, but they have a 10,000 euro bottle there that his son tasted. We made a deal that if we win the championship, we'll spray Heen instead of Champagne (which isn't too far away either).

Arrival/The Manifesto

2009-03-06T03:59:00.000-08:00

Got in around 3 on Monday. Everything went extremely smoothly. Got off the plane at de Gaulle, barely any line at passport control, they didnt even stamp my passport. Walked right through customs. My bags were the first off the belt, exited and Jean-Claude was right there to meet me. Jean-Claude is this random old dude who umpires or does something with the team, I don't really know, he's retired I guess. Doesn't speak English. He's been awesome, drove me all around town and showed me everything. We'll be driving along, trying to understand each other, and if there's silence for more than a few moments he'll yell something he knows in English, like "Sunset Boulevard!" out of nowhere. Drove up to Compiegne, went straight to the field. Great little field, along the lines of a JC or DII. Good surface, good dimensions, full bullpen, cages, dugouts. Talked to Luis Gomez, the head coach, on the phone while at the field in a mix of English and Spanish. He's excited I'm here.

The best thing about European baseball is that it isn't about the money. Steroids, strikes, Selig, Scott Boras, all that B.S. doesn't apply here. It's a small community that chats on Europe baseball forums online while they're at work, and spends their free time running the teams. Everyone knows everyone. I got an offer from a team in Gent, Belgium, and the GM asked me if I knew Justin Prinstein, who I played with in Israel. Couple days before getting here I got an email from Will Gordon, who I played with at Wesleyan. His old coach at Bois-Guillaume, which is in Compiegne's division, had asked him if he knew me. Will is now the Director of Foreign Affairs and Player Development for the Lithuanian league. Thomas Dormard, the Compiegne team secretary who I'd been in touch with in the months leading up to my arrival, remembered Will and knew that he was in Lithuania. I was sitting around Thomas' apartment last night watching the Japan-China WBC opener and I asked him how he had become a baseball fan. He turned to me and said, "Major League...the movie. Fifty percent of French baseball players started playing because of that movie." Rick Vaughn did more to spread the game than Bud Selig ever did.

Thomas' roommate Pascal runs the team's finances and is the scorekeeper. He's in the process of keeping score for the entire WBC. I always heard broadcasters say, "For those of you keeping score at home..." but never knew anyone who actually did. Their house is filled with memorabilia, books, bats, autographs, and CBBC (Club Baseball du Compiegne) gear. Soon as I got over there he started showering me with gear. Sweatshirt, BP jacket, hat, t-shirt. At one point Pascal just gave me a hundred euros in cash, part of my monthly salary. So down with this pay system, way better than direct deposit. The team is funded by the city government, which means the pristine athletic facilities and club teams are available to everyone. It's similar to how it works at US colleges, in terms of facilities and teams, but not limited to those who can afford it. The day before, I had gone out to the field with Jean-Claude (who's started showing up at my apartment randomly, yelling something and telling me to come with), Thomas and Jamie Skyrm, the other American on the team. We waited out a hail storm, then Jamie and I long tossed, took grounders and did PFPs. We have practice Saturday from 1:30-5 with the whole team, and a double header preseason game Sunday. Next weekend we're going down to Chartres for a big preseason tournament.

It's going to be interesting to see what baseball is like in a context where financial gain has been taken completely out of the equation. Is it more pure or are players less motivated to succeed? True to the past or evolving towards the future? Which model is best for the game, the Europe/Cuba socialist model or the US/Japan capitalist model? That's what I'm going to be exploring in this blog.

A blurry moral line

2009-02-23T09:50:00.000-08:00

Best article on steroids in baseball that I've read so far, and it isn't even by a sportswriter. Jon Carroll: "Steroids are illegal, but candidly, 'illegal' does not impress me anymore. Alcohol is legal and marijuana is illegal; big whoop. Cocaine is illegal and Vicodin is legal. The legality of drugs in this country does not depend on medical studies; it depends on politics and money."

From the Middle East to San Quentin prison...

2009-02-22T23:43:00.000-08:00

Piece I wrote for MoJo:
San Quentin's Field of Dreams - Mother Jones

Opening Night

2009-02-22T21:47:00.001-08:00

[This post is the first step in a new direction for the Five and Dime: baseball writing. I wrote this piece the first time I played pro ball internationally, in summer 2007, and much of the content from here on out will be about my time playing for CBBC in the French professional league. Baseball posts will be tagged "Global Pastime" so they can be grouped easily and read together. Enjoy.]

"It was '98. I was in the Chicago organization. Playing in Wisconsin. My best friend? He was with Detroit." Franco's English was honed by almost ten years in the minors, but our conversations were still a hybrid of English, Spanish, and a universal baseball language.
"He and I grew up together," Franco continued, "From the same town. Best friend. I was playing shortstop."
Franco had won three Gold Gloves in his minor league career and was slim and quick, known for his defense.
"My friend, he tried to steal. I was covering the bag. Put my foot, you know, in front. The play was close. He slid in headfirst." Franco had set the scene, and paused before the story climaxed. He looked around the circle at the four Americans, all true ballplayers with varying degrees of talent. Yet they were Americans, and Franco needed to convey that the spirit of the game, pure in the Dominican Republic, was somewhat diluted in the US.
"I caught the throw in front of the bag and swept the tag. It got him in the face, hard. His head snapped back. Concussion. We were from the same village in the Dominican, but on the field he was not my friend. Because, you know, this is baseball."

On Opening Night the tower of Babel fell, scattering languages across the fields, through the dugouts and into the stands. The universal language of baseball was supposed to transcend, but at the first professional baseball game ever played in the Middle East, cultural differences dominated. Our Australian pitcher and Dominican catcher discussed signs, while an Israeli backup outfielder warmed up our Maori left fielder. The Canadian relief pitcher and second baseman talked to a reporter from CBC, while the overwhelmed and unprepared heads of the league, focused on press coverage instead of baseball, attempted to move the Israeli media from the field without being insulting. A row of photographers and cameramen stood along the first base line during the singing of the national anthems, yet failed to dissipate when those two words, those two much beloved, dissected and over romanticized words, rang out over the field: "Play ball!" The home plate umpire's thick South Carolina accent echoed through the stadium, giving momentary nostalgia to American players grasping for some sense of normalcy. But on this night it wasn't to be. Half of the Modiin team stretched their necks, trying to peer over the heads of the reporters from all the major Israeli newspapers and television stations, while the other half formed a barricade at one end of the dugout to try to stem the flow of people streaming through. To the locals, those two echoing immortal words meant nothing; it was the spectacle, not the game, that attracted them. The Petah Tikva team was hosting Modiin on a pristine field in a Baptist religious village somewhere north of Tel Aviv. There were almost four thousand people on hand to see what all the hype was about. The press was still being herded off the field as our leadoff hitter skied a popup to second for the first out. As our two hitter, a shortstop out of Pace University in New York, dug in against their Dominican pitcher, the incomprehensible chatter falling from all directions was slowly muted by the growing, hypnotizing force of the game at hand. Dozens of languages were soon drowned out by the steady heartbeat that courses through the veins of the game. This was baseball.

"Salud!" went up from the circle as the second round of beers were cracked open, and it was clear that the skill and popularity of the Dominican players had caused the lingual favoritism of Spanish, even in the Middle East. Franco raised his can, sipped it, then leaned closer into the circle, preparing another lesson on Dominican life and baseball. "Salud es bueno. Primero necessita salud. Entonces, dinero. Many people think dinero comes first, but even in the Dominican, where it is very poor, health comes before money. So that is why we say 'Salud y Dinero.' When you have the money, the women come to you, but what good is it if you don't have health?" Franco acknowledged the laughs and began to explain another favorite phrase.
"Is this one more about baseball?" someone asked, and Franco looked puzzled.
"More than Salud y Dinero? Maybe you no understand. See, for a baseball player, when you don't have your health, you don't have the money no more. Then you lose the women too!" True that. "Pero, this phrase is good on the field. You say, 'Si no lo vende, no lo compre.' Understand?" A couple people did, but didn't really get it. Franco explained, "If you want something from someone, in life, and they are not selling it, then they can charge you whatever they want. So you should not buy if they are not selling. And, if a pitcher isn't giving you strikes then you shouldn't swing at balls. Si no lo vende, no lo compre."

As the sky darkened and the lights began to take effect, the field descended into artificial daytime. The sun, sinking along a horizon running parallel to the third base line, silhouetted a palm tree beyond the right field fence. By the third inning it was clear who was going to win, and by they fourth it was a blowout. The league president, obnoxious and rotund, yamukah covering a bald spot, scurried around the field imposing himself unnecessarily on the game. He had done this before, impose on the game, when the decision had been made months back to cut the games to seven innings and replace extra innings with a home run derby. The players were all appalled at this, and every single one believed that this shocking offense to the baseball gods would doom the league in its inaugural year. They shook their heads and feared the wrath of the baseball gods. And here was the man who had incurred the wrath, who had cut the games to seven innings out of fear of short attention spans, having a panic attack because the game was a blowout in the fourth. Would the fans leave? Would the television crew lose interest? He had an ace up his sleeve though, and did something unheard of. Modiin had started our most experienced and complete pitcher, an Australian named Matt Bennett. Bennett went three innings before the league president instructed Art Shamsky, former Miracle Met and current Modiin manager, to put in 6'9", 100 MPH-throwing Dominican pitcher Maximo Nelson. Everyone had heard the stories of his fastball, and were anxious to see his lanky frame unwind from the rubber and blow the ball by Pioneer hitters. He didn't disappoint, and after one inning of work Shamsky let the bullpen finish it off.

By the end of the seventh the sky was pitch black, although the excitement on and around the field had dimmed little. As the final pitch was thrown, all illusion of order disintegrated and chaos ensued. Fans flooded the dugouts and the field, asking for autographs, balls and broken bats. I made sure my things were together and in sight before I pushed my way out of the dugout and onto the field to shake hands with my teammates. I was the winning pitcher in the game, thanks to a 1-2-3 fifth inning, and was swarmed by autograph hunters looking to get the signature of the first IBL victor. Every step back toward the dugout was more difficult than the last as I tried to fight the current. Yet as I threw my bag over my shoulder I began to give up trying to fight the swarm and let myself get lost in it. Regardless of my hatred of the ideology and politics of the people and money behind the league, the fact remained that this was still baseball. Still the dirt and grime, still the leather and pine tar and Northern White Ash, still the hard slide into second and the slap of the tag.

Sav of the Day

2009-02-06T19:00:00.001-08:00

Happy birthday Bob. For the best biography ever written of Robert Nesta, check out Timothy White's Catch a Fire.

Eyes of the world

2009-02-06T18:20:00.000-08:00

Five and Dime favorite JR has just completed one of his largest projects yet: covering shanty roofs in Kibera, Kenya, with the eyes and faces of women from the slum. According to the Wooster Collective, the photos cover 2000 square meters of space and are water resistant, helping protect the dilapidated homes in one of the largest slums in the world. The train that rolls through daily was also covered, and for a split second each day the eyes and smiles match up.
His project in the favelas of Rio remains my all-time favorite though.

The Mighty

2009-02-06T09:23:00.000-08:00

Mos Def - Quiet Dog

New Mos...the second single off the upcoming album The Ecstatic. Heard this and a couple other new songs, including the slapper Pistola, at the Band Shell Music Summit back in October. Best part of this track? Mighty Mos shouts out Equilib (at :58). Go peep.

Fidel is the new Nostradamus

2009-02-04T15:30:00.001-08:00

...and he's smarter than anyone that's running the US economy. Fidel had this to say on January 28, 2000, in a conversation with former UNESCO head Frederico Mayor Zaragoza:

"The developed capitalist system, which later gave rise to modern imperialism, has finally imposed a neoliberal and globalized order that is simply unsustainable. It has created a world of speculation where fictitious wealth and stocks have been created that have nothing to do with actual production, as well as enormous personal fortunes, some of which exceed the gross domestic product of dozens of poor countries...There is nothing this system can offer humanity. It can only lead to its own self-destruction and perhaps along with it to the destruction of the natural conditions that sustain human life on this planet."

I think this would qualify as "change". Summers and Geithner? Not so much. Many are seeing this financial collapse as a repudiation of neoliberalism across the board, and believe that it will result in a more protectionist trend. Richard Gott, in today's Guardian, believes that the result of this deep recession will be a rise of anti-neoliberal, nationally or regionally protectionist governments in Europe similar to the pink tide in Latin America. I don't agree with the assumption that the choices are limited to neoliberalism or protectionism, and I don't think the solution lies with either. The world is too intertwined at this point to return to protectionism, and neoliberalism is completely unsustainable. The only way to get out of this is by coming up with new ideas and new solutions.

This goes...

2009-01-31T18:48:00.000-08:00

Flo Rida ft. Kesha - Right Round

New Flo Rida! No pre-game mix necessary, just put this on and keep pressing repeat.

Quote of the Day

2009-01-30T14:53:00.000-08:00

"The latest unemployment figures could not be released today because statisticians are on strike." - Guardian article on the French general strike, called in response to the recession.

Gadget Review: Sonim XP3

2009-01-29T15:37:00.001-08:00

Ever trashed a phone before? Don't lie, I know you have. Obviously an accident...I know you said to yourself, how was I supposed to know that toilet water destroys phones? Maybe you should stop going through phones like you go through Purell on a trip to a leper colony. Maybe you should get a Sonim XP3.

I got my hands on this new Sonim tough phone with full realization of who it's geared towards and the naive belief that I could totally wreck it. Believe it or not, Sonim's phones aren't just for the drunk college kid, they're more for the construction worker, Coast Guard, ski patrol, river rafting guide or rock climber. Their Flash-y website and the dope graphics give you the impression that this tank of a mobile is going actually be on the cutting edge of...something, at least. Unfortunately, as soon as it's flicked on, reality hits. The tech is straight outta the early, early millennium and I feel like I should be playing snake on the school bus. It doesn't even have snake though. The old-school software is totally retro, but works surprisingly well. Clear signal in every area tested, and up to five hours of talk time. Texting gets very annoying though; the way it's set up, you have to type each letter below the message space, then select the word in order for it to appear in the sentence. And the word disappears if you don't click it quickly enough. It barely has a color screen and the ring tones range from mildly irritating to homicide-inducing.

Pushing that to the back of my mind, I try to focus on how well it does doing what it's supposed to do. Engineered "specifically for customers who work and/or play in extreme environments," it shouldn't be compared to mass-market mobiles. The handset is Bluetooth compatible with most headsets, an important feature considering many of its users will probably be needing both hands at most times. It is completely impenetrable, thanks to a "hardened rubber molding cast via dual injection." A very cool feature is how well protected the battery and SIM card are- the back of the case is screwed on, and you need a flathead to get in there. The buttons on the side are wrapped in the exoskeleton and protected enough to make the Trojan Man proud. It is submersible in up to one meter of water for 30 minutes, according to the company. I tossed it in a fish tank for half an hour, and it was able to fight off two Siamese Fighting Fish and work like a charm once I dried it off. It also survived an "accidental" fall from a second story balcony and several attempts at running it over (granted, it was a Volvo and not a Hummer). At a construction site or on the mountain, one of the most important features has to be Push to Talk. Stunningly, the XP3 doesn't have Push to Talk software, even though the handset has PTT buttons and the website boasts that they are, "tested up to 200,000 pushes." They promise that future models will have the software though.

This is definitely a solid purchase for dedicated outdoorsy folk and anyone who works with their hands. The XP3 is already out in Europe, and the XP3 2.0 will debut in the States in May, just in time for the summer rafting and college graduation seasons.

The XP1 gets elephant tested:

Deep Thought

2009-01-27T14:30:00.000-08:00

Oo-tho is the new Ay-tho

Ramallah graffiti

2009-01-27T14:14:00.000-08:00

[I took these when I was in Palestine in Summer 2007]

CHE!

2009-01-26T11:43:00.001-08:00

As the Comandante sits, wrists and ankles bound, on the dusty floor of a small stone dwelling high in the mountains of Bolivia, a CIA-trained Bolivian army colonel questions his presence in the country. "What if the peasants didn't want you here?" he asks.

Che responds, "Maybe they didn't. But maybe our failure will wake them up."

On Sunday, forty-one years after Che's death at the hands of the Bolivian army, the people of Bolivia passed a referendum on a new constitution pushed by indigenous president Evo Morales, "granting more power to the country's indigenous majority and rolling back half a millennium of colonialism, discrimination, and humiliation." Sunday was also the day I finally, after two years of waiting, saw Soderbergh's epic Che, which culminates in that final scene in the mountains. Very fitting that I saw the movie on the day that the revolution that Che began was finally won. The imported revolutionaries sought agrarian reform in the second poorest country in South America, and this new constitution guarantees land redistribution and seats in congress for indigenous groups. Morales, Chavez, Lula and Daniel, along with Raul and Fidel, are the realization of Che's fight and ideals. Now, the Bolivian soldier who drew the short straw and had to kill Che can have his eyesight restored by Cuban doctors.

The movie itself is an exhausting four hours and forty minutes, although it's definitely worth it to see it all, Parts 1 & 2, at the same time. Most of the reviews I read said that Part One was significantly better, and I definitely agree. Soderbergh focuses on Che the guerrilla, the fighter, and not Che the writer or thinker. It's basically a four hour battle scene, which I'm so down with. There are dozens of books, biographies, speeches, and diaries out there about Che's philosophies and ideology. The movie was just the visual companion to go along with the writings. And that was far and away the best part- how the movie was shot. It was the first full length movie to use the revolutionary new ultra high-res digital camera, RED, and I can say now without a doubt that this is going to change filmmaking forever. It's the first digital cinema camera that doesn't have the sharp, antiseptic look of digital. The ultra-high resolution (4,096 lines of horizontal resolution) makes for a soft feel that looks like film, with the detail and focus of analog. Soderbergh borrowed two prototypes of Jim Jannard's baby for the movie, and the scenes that take place in Cuba's Sierra Maestra mountains (filmed in Puerto Rico) are ridiculous.

Part One, The Argentine, features a great performance by Santiago Cabrera as fun-loving guerrilla Camilo Cienfuegos. An interesting side note here: the first part ends with Camilo and Che parting ways on their victory lap into Havana. That is the last we hear of Cienfuegos. But right after that, in reality, Che takes a jeep to the capital while Camilo boards a small Cessna from Camaguey to Havana. His plane crashed into the ocean on that night flight and Camilo became the first of the leaders of the revolution to die. In the movie, their parting of ways is emotional but Soderbergh doesn't mention the flight. It's almost as if he assumes that the viewers know that Cienfuegos dies shortly after. The guy that plays Fidel, Demian Bichir, is way over the top and gets annoying real quick. Del Toro did an amazing job disappearing into Che, capturing his subtle humor and deep thought. Part Two portrays the then-unsuccessful guerrilla fight in Bolivia and is a sharp slap back to reality after the legendary Cuban revolution. It shows Che's inspiring sacrifice towards building revolution throughout Latin America, instead of resting on his laurels in Cuba. If he had stayed in his position of economic minister instead of attempting to foment revolution in Bolivia, the revolution would have been seen as a purely Cuban act, instead of the continent-wide movement that Che wanted. If he hadn't taken it off the island of Cuba, we might never have seen the "regional pink tide of leftwing governments" throughout Latin America that culminated yesterday in Bolivia's new constitution.

Sav of the Day

2009-01-25T18:09:00.000-08:00

Sully is Gully.

SF Chronicle- Danville gives hero's welcome to US Air pilot

Primary source analysis: FOIA memo and investigative journalism

2009-01-25T13:15:00.000-08:00

The hand-wringing of media types fretting about the future of the industry has been steadily building for almost a decade, hitting a crescendo this past summer and fall with the partial financial collapse and massive layoffs across the board that resulted. Print or online, there is little evidence of a clear direction for the future of journalism. It isn't worth it to try and add another voice to the cacophony, but there is one specific area of journalism that, with recent events, looks like it will be resurrected: investigative journalism.

In his very first day of office, President Obama issued a memorandum that mostly flew under the radar. Addressed to the heads of executive departments and agencies, the subject line simply read, "Freedom of Information Act." This wasn't legislation or an executive order, but it has the potential to surpass much of what he has done in his first days as President in terms of importance. This is the first step in making government more accountable and transparent, and will streamline a process that under the Bush administration was one of the most maddening cogs in the bureaucracy. Early in the Bush presidency, then-Attorney General John Ashcroft released his version of the FOIA memo, setting the tone of secrecy and silence that would soon come to characterize this regime. Ashcroft based his policies on a belief in privacy rights, stating in the memo that, "Congress and courts have long recognized that certain legal privileges ensure candid and complete agency deliberations without fear that they will be made public." His interpretation of the FOIA was that while important, it shouldn't be effective enough that public officials would fear reprisals based on declassified documents. Ashcroft feared this would compromise decision making. The language was subtle but the message was clear. Ashcroft promised that, "When you carefully consider FOIA requests and decide to withhold records...you can be assured that the Department of Justice will defend your decisions." This effectively cut the flow of FOIA disclosures, and according to Slate, the number of pages of documents that were declassified dropped from an average of 190 million per year during the Clinton era to 36 million during the Bush years.

Obama doesn't just want to return to Clinton-era transparency, he wants to completely revamp the system. The most important part of his memo relates to how he believes bureaucrats should see themselves and their role in government. He writes that in responding to FOIA requests, "agencies should act promptly and in a spirit of cooperation, recognizing that such agencies are servants of the public." This goes along with Obama's message of service to the greater good, as well as his belief in transparency. Unlike Ashcroft's subtle language that was meant to subvert the Act, Obama uses strong language with no equivocations and no space for wiggle room in order to reaffirm the fundamental tenets of the FOIA. This is reflected in the statement that, "All agencies should adopt a presumption in favor of disclosure, in order to renew their commitment to the principles embodied in FOIA, and to usher in a new era of open Government."

So how does this relate to investigative journalism? Increased access to declassified documents will undoubtedly kick start the field of investigative journalism. The FOIA is incredibly important when it comes to the type of journalism that takes on serious long-term investigations. This journalism has been dying a slow death recently, in favor of rapid response associated with the 24-hour news cycle. Mother Jones is really the only publication left that devotes itself fully to investigations and muckraking. In the past, investigative journalism was only done by major publications that had the resources to put in the necessary time and effort. The days of Woodward and Bernstein are over though, and not likely to return any time soon. But with easier access and quicker turnaround time under the new Obama FOIA procedures, the army of bloggers and pundits that comprise online media will be better equipped to find previously untouchable documents and hold government accountable. Instead of a couple journalists holding down the whole field, investigations will be crowdsourced. This is how it will work: a subject of investigation will enter the blogosphere, initiated by one or two writers based on a scoop or a source. The investigation will then be done by any other writer that seeks to add their input to the subject. From each writer's perspective, they will make requests for documents under the FOIA. The whole investigation will be carried out in real time and in full light of the public, instead of behind the closed doors of the newsroom. That way, investigations will become tailored to the 24-hour news cycle. These types of investigations have happened before, the best example being the public vetting of Sarah Palin that occurred after she was announced as McCain's VP pick. But it will be much easier to accomplish this in a new era of open government.

How easy? In continuing with the Lessig-Obama new world order that we've entered, the Electronic Frontier Foundation has put together a kit with step by step instructions on how to get documents declassified under the FOIA. According to their site, the kit, "contains all the materials needed to make FOIA requests for records on an individual, an organization or on a particular subject matter or event." So now you don't have any excuses for not raking muck.

And I sport fly shit, I should win an ESPY

2009-01-24T12:28:00.000-08:00

Jay-Z ft. Kid Cudi - Party Day N Night (Terry Urban Remix)

Something to get your Saturday night off on the right foot. And while we're on it, peep this interview from last year with Frank Lucas and Nick Barnes (via phone).
Lucas: "I think Hillary wins this thing. Hands down."

Sav of the Day

2009-01-23T19:43:00.000-08:00

Dese dudes

For the record, Tony Jaa would beast any of these fools.

(Hat tip: Sean Erick- "they shoulda called this a day in the B-town")

Rejecting Terror

2009-01-23T17:45:00.001-08:00

From the start, the war on terror was doomed: the phrase itself is a contradiction. The construction of the phrase follows in the footsteps of the "war on drugs" and the "war on poverty": a fight against a social ill or scourge, using the metaphor of war. But the war on terror was different; the Bush administration attempted to execute it as if it was an actual war. Airstrikes and bravado. Yet its underlying philosophy was the same as its cousins, drugs and poverty. In the war on drugs, the DEA goes after dealers and smugglers instead of trying to find out why people turn to drugs in the first place. They fight the symptoms, not the cause.

It was even more egregious how this was manifested in the war on terror. The biggest mistake in post-9/11 warfare was the assumption that terrorism was a problem. That assumption needs to be rejected outright for us to make any headway in ending terrorism. An international politics professor of mine, Douglas Foyle, once said that terrorism is a last ditch attempt at relevance by the powerless. In no way can it topple nations or affect any geopolitical shift in power. Terror is only resorted to by those with no resources to fight, because it is not based on physical or political power but psychological power. It is used to instill fear, not increase power. Post-9/11, Bush joined forces with al-Qaeda, so to speak, by not only embracing the fear that the attacks instilled in the American people, but by increasing that fear in order to enhance the unitary power of the executive. As Zbigniew Brzezinski wrote in the Washington Post, "The damage these three words have done is infinitely greater than any wild dreams entertained by the fanatical perpetrators of the 9/11 attacks." Every time the color coded terror alerts were raised, both al-Qaeda and Bush won.

So the question now becomes, will Obama fight the symptoms or the root of the issue? David Corn of Mother Jones is optimistic that it will be the latter. He has analyzed the rhetoric of Obama's first days in office and noticed that he has not once used the phrase "war on terror." And Corn believes that, "de-emphasizing the war metaphor would be a significant change." Even more encouraging were two parts from the foreign policy section of Obama's inaugural address. At one point he stated that, "our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please." Shortly thereafter he said that, "To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect." Does this mean Obama's presidency will involve less war than Bush's? Doubtful. But it does mean that the wars he fights, however inherently unjust, will nevertheless be smarter than the "war on terror."

The best producer you've never heard of...

2009-01-23T16:57:00.000-08:00

Nicolay. There it is.
Nicolay and Kay's Time:Line was one of my favorite albums of '08, and his latest project The Foreign Exchange doesn't miss a beat. It's Nicolay and Phonte of Little Brother teaming up to make some soulful shit. Their first album Leave it all Behind was released last October but was slept on for some unknown reason. Go peep. It slaps.

No Cuomo

2009-01-22T22:57:00.000-08:00

This isn't a scoop or anything, I just wanted to be able to use that title.

This goes...

2009-01-22T20:28:00.000-08:00

San Quinn ft Prohoezak - Superman Remix

Heavy, heavy doses of Auto-Tune are the new anti-depressants. Dude must have been taking both: Prohoezak was originally Cap n' Crunch, then shortened to C-Funk, and has been around since the 80's producing for Digital Underground and Public Enemy. Looks like Auto-Tune resurrected his career, yet further proof that Antares' omnipresent program is pop music's steroids.

Sav of the Day

2009-01-22T17:28:00.000-08:00

Only Bona Fide Savs like Aretha and Hov can rock hats like those.

"You put me butt-naked in the jungle, I'll come out wearing a chinchilla hat and a leopard coat, 10 pounds heavier from eating them motherfuckers." - Puffy, in Notorious

"What kind of grown man calls himself Puffy?" - Voletta Wallace/Angela Bassett

Analysis of the Inaugural Address

2009-01-21T15:13:00.000-08:00

Obama's ascendancy reflects the culmination of ideas that have been set in motion by a globalized world, an information and technology revolution, and a redefinition across the board (and borders) of traditional ideals. The theoretical foundation of Obama's style of governance is openness, transparency and accountability, and in this way is more Torvalds and Lessig than Hamilton and Jefferson. He is, at the same time, a former constitutional lawyer and had a perfect dig at Bush in the speech, saying, "Those ideals [in the Constitution] still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake."

It wasn't up there with the '04 convention or the Philadelphia race speech, but he did a good job transitioning from campaigning to governing. He immediately slips into his constitutional side, mentioning staying true to the founding documents, and then transitions to the neoconservative Obama, speaking of a "far-reaching network of violence and hatred." The fact that he takes on all these roles so early in the speech reflects on his unique ability to be anything to everyone. He presents himself as a blank slate that Americans project their beliefs and wishes onto. At this point I was still in awe of Aretha's hat, so his Wolfowitz impression slipped by. He then lays out a short list of the challenges that he believes should take priority, and wraps up his intro graf with a sentence that ended up getting the most cheers in the entire speech from the several thousand people crowded into Sproul Plaza: "these are the indicators of crises, subject to data and statistics." This, along with his shout out to "nonbelievers" later on, represented a subtle but drastic dissociation with the past. He's Jeffersonian in this regard, in opposition with the Puritan founding fathers, no matter how many times he mentions the ideals of the writers of the Constitution.

If there is one over-arching theme to this address, it is work, and more specifically work ethic. It is an interesting hybrid of Teddy Roosevelt and Hoover's rugged individualism and JFK's call to service. In this next part of the speech, he conjures images of sweatshop wage slavery, immigrant hardships, and the yeoman farmer. But instead of the usual "pulling yourself up by your bootstraps" individualistic capitalism meme, he believes that these people did so for the greater good: "They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions." This interpretation of the work that went into building this country is completely original. In the past, America has always been the sum of the individual efforts of people on their own paths to wealth. The American Dream isn't about working to better your country, but the ability to build personal wealth from nothing. The fascinating thing about this is that by adding the TR manifest destiny individualism and the JFK Peace Corps call to service, he comes up with the idea of sacrifice and work not for one's self but for one's country. And this sounds more like Che's idea of the "Socialist Man" than anything else.

Carrying on with the secular sub theme of the speech, Obama then goes on to say, "We will restore science to its rightful place..." If nothing else, this is a breath of fresh air after hearing so much crap about faith in the past eight years. What is important here, and in the following few grafs of the speech, is Obama's belief that every need can be met given enough smart people put their minds to it. This is born from the ingenuity of the technological revolution. Technology has evolved at an almost exponential level in the last decade as people have begun to realize that we have reached a point where if a need must be met, a solution can be invented based on available and potential technology. It's the ideology of the start-up, of Silicon Valley, manifested in tackling the problems of the greater world, not just the Valley. It also speaks to Thomas Friedman's rejection of a Manhattan Project-styled solution to the energy crisis in favor of 100,000 people in 100,000 garages (by the way, I fact checked that article when I was at Wired, so you know its on point).

As much as people describe Obama as "post-racial" (total BS), he is better described as being "post-political dichotomy." In this next part of the speech, BHO rejects the assumption that the country is split between those who are in favor of big government and those in favor of small government. That's a hell of an assumption to reject. He says, "The question we ask ourselves today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works." This elevation of efficiency over out-dated political ideology is admirable, but only feasible in times of crisis. In fact, that assumption can only be rejected in times of crisis. This is important to note because his bipartisan-ism is a cornerstone of his political ideology and its effectiveness will forever be bound by his status as a "crisis-time" President (we can't say "war-time President" anymore, because as Orwell predicted, we are always at war, the only thing that changes is the enemy). Obama is a fixer, he knows what he must do to get us back to neutral. Were he to begin his presidency at neutral, like a Jimmy Carter or a H.W. Bush, I believe his ideology would be classified in a more traditional sense. Yet coming on the heels of the biggest Big Government President ever, W, it is good that he is rejecting that assumption.

He then transitions well from discussing domestic issues to foreign policy and national security issues. The Left will lap up everything he says at this point, but he must be held to task for it. Unfortunately, my strong belief is that Obama is going to become a Thabo Mbeki-style "talk left, walk right" leader (please check out that link, it's going to be important in the next four years). Patrick Bond describes it as, "talking left and walking right as a way to reconcile the demands of their electoral constituency with demands of the holders of global and national economic and political power." And right on cue, he begins to speak of "those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents" and "brave Americans...who patrol far-off deserts." He has to please everybody, of course.

To end the speech, he goes into lyrical prose mode, and even manages to find a George Washington quote that has the word "hope" in it. Obama returns to the theme of work to end his address, further solidifying his acknowledgment of the challenges at hand and setting himself up to avoid blame if we are unable to confront them fully. His words, however beautiful and inspirational, cannot be trusted because of his ability to be a blank slate, to speak to everyone. He was elected on his words, he must now be judged on his actions.