My Sunday was spent not out at games or events, but chillin’ with my friends -both old and new- here in Beijing. I’m sure that if I had wanted, I could have scored some tickets to either the Men’s basketball finals or the Closing Ceremonies, but, frankly, I just wanted to watch them on TV. I think that a part of me was kind of done with the crowds, security checks and long lines in the hot sun.

So in retaliation for them bringing me to a Chinese sports bar to watch the first basketball game of these Olympics (USA vs. China), I had Alex & Rachel meet me to watch the last game (USA vs. Spain) at the most American place that I could think of in Beijing: Hooters.

Yeah, they have crappy food in the US and they are (proudly) tacky enough to make you gag before you even try the onion rings, but I was out for revenge. Sort of. And, believe it or not, their burger is actually pretty darn good. Its quite the taste of home. That, and they’re only 3 blocks from my apartment.

The game between the Redeem Team and Spain was a lot more fun to watch than had been expected and there was a nice mix of Spain fans and Americans in the restaurant so it was a loud, energetic crowd. I had a great time with my friends and ate way too much.

Afterwards, Rachel invited me to join her friends who had reserved a room at a karaoke bar so that they could watch the Closing Ceremonies together on a big TV and get drinks brought to them… Oh, and to sing karaoke.

The Chinese love Karaoke. Love it. Their bars don’t have occasional karaoke nights. No, they have karaoke clubs. Big ones. In 4-star hotels. I’ll have to get into that at a later time, because while they sang a few songs (and goaded me into a wretched rendition of “The Sound of Silence”), we were there for the Closing Ceremonies.

And what a show it was! It was as beautiful, if a little more understated, as the Opening Ceremonies, but I loved them- Right up through the very cool symbolic handoff of the next Games to London. Seeing “A Whole Lotta Love” performed live in China was pretty awesome. The Chinese that I were with ate it up.

The night ended with a whimper for me. When it was all over I took a cab ride home across town and went straight to bed. I didn’t go out to the bars to see what the after parties might be like. I wasn’t interested in the revelry that might accompany One Last Night out for all of the athletes and visitors. To me, that night was not about the ending of a festival; it was about the start of my life here.

Time to get on with it.

For my final event where else could I go? The end of the Games are closing in and reality threatens to come rushing back all at once as soon as the lights go down on the Closing Ceremony tomorrow. Like during my final nights in Boston, I wanted my last memories of these unbelievable Olympics to be of watching my favorite game. As a bonus, I’d be able to cheer on my home team as they fought for the Bronze Medal against Japan. (NOTE: Click on any of the images below to jump to my complete photo album from this day with lots of additional details.)

I went to this show on my own and while it was another hot day, it was nowhere near as bad as the Korea/Cuba game which, incidentally, would repeat later that evening- the two teams would face off in a rematch for the Gold Medal. If you count that earlier game, I can claim to have seen the 4 best teams all play each other during this tournament. It is also the last time that Baseball will be a medal sport during the Olympics, so I was watching what might be the 2^nd-to-last ever game to be played with anything at stake.

Unless the 2016 Games get awarded to Japan, that is.

The seats were -what else?- fantastic: 4^th row, right behind First Base. The catch? I was in amongst the Japanese fans that I had marveled at from afar during my first game almost 2 weeks ago. On that near-perfect night I had actually commented to my friend Kerry that I was happy that we had not been seated next to the crazies with the whistles and the non-stop chanting.

Well, this time around the Baseball gods weren’t quite so accommodating.

As I had been discovering at my first two games, the baseball-watching culture in Asia is completely different than it is in the US. Our game evolved during the end of the Industrial Revolution when things moved much more slowly. There was no TV, no radio. All forms of entertainment/distraction were live. It helped to entertain immigrants who lacked language skills while they assimilated into new urban centers. We cheer wildly, but we can also sit relatively quietly for long stretches as we contemplate the game and watch it unfold. Friends go to games together for chat-fests (which I usually abhor- just ask Keith, Bry or A-Bomb; they’ll tell you).

No so in Asia.

I’m not familiar with it’s evolution in Taiwan or Korea, but in Japan it came over with students in the 1870s and the locals simply ate it up. Games are like carnivals and the cheering just goes on and on. Somehow that staid, deliberate watching style didn’t follow from the US… Something good happens for your guys? Get up and cheer! Something bad happens? Get up and cheer! A new pitcher comes into the game? Get up and cheer! (Incidentally, watch Dice-K whenever he is taken out of a game mid-inning. He will not leave the mound -abandon his post- until he is relieved by his teammate. I really like that idea.)

Its a shame that these baseball fields in Beijing are temporary structures. I really believe that given the Asian sports-viewing culture, and my -admittedly limited- success in showcasing the game to local Chinese, Baseball could take root here if given half a chance. Maybe there’s something that I can do about that in the future…

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Back in reality, I was surrounded. I had a squad of Americans to my left -2 were from Boston and all were Sox fans- and occasional Old Glory-waivers were scattered here and there, but this was definitely a Japanese crowd. And those whistle blowers/drum-bangers were out in force. What I didn’t learn last time, but discovered to my shock this time around, is that these guys were professional cheerleaders… And not the scantily-clad wastes of time that run around on the field during basketball and volleyball games. These were the good kind.

They were almost all men who gutted it out in the oppressive heat in dark shirts and had Organizing Committee-sanctioned badges. They would scream the chant that they wanted the fans to yell, point to the crowd and expect to be followed immediately. Someone would blow a whistle to keep time (which we Americans learned later was very useful as one of our counter-cheers fell apart when we couldn’t keep it together).

They would rotate to different positions so that nobody was screaming in the lead for more than 2 innings. They even had a “Stop Cheering” signal so that their chants would not mess up the concentration of one of their players. Almost everybody obeyed them.

Damn.

Even when the US took a commanding lead late in the game we Americans didn’t get much opportunity to get into it. When we were able to start up a chant, the Japanese would start one up almost immediately to drown us out. It was like a fracking point of honor for them. Our only hope was when we tried to enlist the Chinese that were in the stands. Start up a “U-S-A! U-S-A!” chant and its you against the world. Belt it out in Chinese and the locals go crazy: “Mei Gua! Jai Yo!” (Loosely translated, this means “Let’s Go, America!”) The Chinese aren’t too fond of the Japanese, so if you invite them to cheer for their opponent, you get plenty of takers.

Since I don’t know much Japanese I wasn’t even able to taunt very effectively. When there was a 1-2-3 inning, I jumped up and screamed; “Yi! Er! San!” (”1-2-3″ in Chinese). The locals loved that. When there was a spectacular double-play that killed a potential rally in the 5^th inning, I shouted “Sayonara!”

Hey, its no “Yankees Suck!” but I can only do so much.

One more note about the Japanese fans. This maniac in the getup with the bullhorn who was sitting directly behind me was actually the team’s doctor. He would yell at the players loudly in a deep, Samurai Warrior-sounding way. We had no idea what he was saying. It could have been, “Hey, watch that head-first slide, Yoshi! You don’t want to aggravate your oblique injury!” Whatever it was, it sounded incredibly cool.

He was quite the jovial guy, always laughing and getting the Japanese around him to laugh at his cheers. Fans kept shaking his hand and bowing to him. We took some pictures together after the game and ended up exchanging gifts. (A very cool tradition, if I do say so myself.) I gave him my American flag and he gave me his Team Japan baseball hat. It was a touching gesture and he made me promise to wear it the next time that I am at Fenway in honor of Daisuke Matsusaka.

I’m happy that the USA won and took the Bronze, though its hard to get too excited over 3^rd place. As I’ve said before, nothing can match the passion of Red Sox fandom for me, but if these Japanese fans were at very game, I’d be able to sit through a baseball contest between almost any 2 teams and have a great time.

What a great way to end my Games.

A good friend passed along a link to a great photo album on Flickr that wasn’t made by me. I highly suggest taking a gander.

Click here for Stormtroopers at the Games.

It was easy to get caught up in all of the hoopla surrounding the Olympics over here. Hell, it would have been harder not to… It was so easy, in fact, that I just about missed out on my favorite summer sports event: The Little League World Series. The series ended a few days back and the kids from Hawaii won the day. (Foreshadowing of another Hawaiian’s good chances in November, perhaps?)

What’s so wonderful about this event is that while the boys (and occasional girl) from around America get the lion’s share of media attention in the US, there are also other teams from all around the world who come to Williamsport, PA to play their guts out and make new friends.

And with children, it is especially easy to break down barriers via sports, because they don’t give a shit about politics at all.

This all came rushing to my mind when I took a look at the Boston Globe today and saw a wonderful piece about a mixed squad of Little Leaguers who went down to Cuba earlier this month to help local kids there start up a baseball league and to spread some goodwill. Check it out; it’s the kind of thing that this world needs more of.

As I have mentioned consistently either in my entries here or in my linked photo albums (you do take the time to check those out, right? I work hard on ‘em!) I have been stupendously/insanely/miraculously lucky with my seating at each Olympic event that I have attended.

Boxing? 20 rows off of the floor. Baseball? Row 2 & 3 all in the infield. Ping Pong? Row 3, right behind the players and the table. Track & Field? Row 10, right at the first turn of the track, directly across form the Pole Vault and right behind the vaulters’ coaches. My first basketball game? Row 20 at mid court. Sure, my soccer seats were in the upper deck, but I wasn’t there for the soccer, I never planned to see a soccer game and I had no hand in getting them, so I don’t really count that. Besides, just getting those tickets (and the new friends that came with them) was enough luck all by itself. (NOTE: Click on any of the images below to jump to my complete photo album from this night with lots of additional details.)

So how did I do for the Women’s basketball semi-finals?

Last row.

Considering how unbelievably smoothly everything has gone for me during these first 2 weeks of living in Beijing, and the fact that when I arrived I had no tickets, no potential sources for tickets and no plans to see any events during these Olympics, I am really not about to complain about these seats. Besides, this venue -like all others except for the baseball stadiums- is world class and constructed magnificently. The steep rows make for impeccable sightlines and I really had no trouble following the action.

The only consequence of sitting that high up is that the heat from the crowd rises and the air conditioners could never quite cool the upper reaches below the “I’m consistently sweating a little” stage.

Whatever. These were great games.

The crowd was overwhelmingly Russian and I was a little disappointed that the Americans who were in town didn’t swing by to support their team in greater numbers for the night’s first game between the two countries. This was not pool play, where you know weeks in advance whom will be playing whom. You can’t have predicted before you got here who would be appearing in the semifinals. This leaves two possibilities: 1) Thousands of Russian basketball fans rolled the dice back when tickets first went on sale and picked the semi-finals as the place to have their biggest showing, or 2) They went out and scooped up the tickets on the streets because they support the heck out of their team.

The disappointed feeling did not last long because I realized that we are in a communist country and Russia is a neighbor. C’est la vie.

The result of the this overwhelming Russian turnout, however, was a hostile crowd. The Russians are passionate fans (their “RUS-SI-A” cheer is quite distinctive) and even if the Chinese didn’t like them already, their sheer numbers and loud chanting would have swept them up anyway. So every time the Russians had the ball cheers would spring up all around the arena. Whenever the US touched the ball lusty “BOOOO” chants would start up. It was as if the crowd were willing the Russian women to pull of an upset.

It worked.

The first quarter was all Russia and at the end of the half they were actually ahead. It looked like the American squad was off-balance. The hostility of the crowd was clearly having an effect.

I just could not help feeling like I was in the middle of Rocky IV. I know that part of this was my Cold War upbringing, and part of it was most definitely the Chinese’s choice of the Rocky Suite for pre-game “pump the crowd up” music,  but with the huge international setting and the hordes of loud, almost-angry Russians (there was a definite edge to them; defensive about Georgia, perhaps?), I half expected to see Paulie walking behind the bench, rubbing the shoulders of each player, whispering words of encouragement: “Hit the one in the middle!”

 

When the two teams took the court for the second half the Americans seemed to have regained their composure. They came out shooting and began to pull ahead. The Russians kept it close for a time, and while there was no “the Russian is cut!” moment, by the middle of the 4^th quarter it was over.

Seriously, I don’t know how players do it. How can you concentrate with tens of thousands of people yelling at you and wanting you to fail? I’ve seen it so many times during my years at Fenway. The crowd can come alive and lift up the Sox, and they can help to sink the visiting team. (Watch Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS. Tell me that the crowd didn’t WILL Dave Roberts to make that steal or get under Bill Mueller’s legs as he fought off that inside pitch and forced it into center field.) If it was me out there with thousands of people jeering me, I’d probably curl up into the fetal position and start moaning softly. No three-point jumpers for me.

The Russians cleared out for the second game, but the energy didn’t die down at all. In fact, it got turned up. Enter the hometown favorites; it was China vs. Australia time!

From the first strings of the Chinese national anthem they went at it. Every touch of the ball, every steal, every made basket was accompanied by absolutely thunderous applause.

It was a shame when the Aussies pulled ahead towards the end of the second quarter. Within the first few minutes of the 3^rd the game was out of reach and it was all over but the crying. I kind of had my heart set on attending a USA/China final, but it was not to be. Its probably a good thing, too, because that would have been the hottest ticket in town and would have probably set me back at least a month’s rent.

That is, unless I took the nosebleeds again.

As I continue to churn out my impressions of the individual events that I was able to get to, I thought that I’d show you some more final thoughts on the games from writers across the US. This is a really opportune time to get some well-researched, nuanced, experience-driven perspective on what China is all about right now. If you’re curious at all about this country and this culture, take a gander at some of the stories below. I don’t necessarily agree with everything that has been said (who could?), but its all worth reading.

We’ll start with my hometown paper here. Bob Ryan is one of my favorite writers ever. He’s got quite the gift for flowery hyperbole.

Next up is The Paper of Record out of the Big Apple, here. Predictably political, but well thought-out and insightful.

Christine Brennan has some great thoughts to share in The USA Today, today. I especially love her final image of hardened government security officials smiling as children frolicked in the fountains near the Water Cube. I have witnessed that first-hand and it made me all misty with hope for China’s future.

I really appreciated Phillip Hersh’s piece in the Chicago Tribune. He took the time to marvel at the dedication of the army of Olympic Volunteers and to highlight some of the fantastic stories from other countries that normally get drowned out in the nationalistic coverage of the games.

Finally, a check across the pond to the good folks of London who are next on the Olympic docket. There’s plenty of reflection on what these games mean over there but this piece by Simon Barnes is my favorite. He takes stock of the pure sporting achievements of the Olympics. A refreshing thought, that. Good on you, ol’ chap!

I’ve not only been lucky in my seating at events, but at most of them I’ve had a US team/player to root for. This makes things very easy: I’m from the USA. The team/player is also from the USA. Therefore I owe them my allegiance.

Simple, right?

Well, when I am at an event with no Americans involved (like 90% of the boxing matches that I saw back on Day 4), or when I am watching a compelling game on TV with no US involvement, what do I do? How do I rank countries on my “To Cheer For” list? Well, here is my formula…

1A) Canada: They are our cool neighbors. That, and I love Montreal; its my second-favorite city on Earth after Boston.

1B) Australia: They trump everybody but the US and Canada because they have THE BEST cheer: “Aussie! Aussie! Aussie! Oi! Oi! Oi!”

1C) Puerto Rico: They’re almost a state.

2) NATO Countries: England before France, but anything after that depends on what I had to drink the night before, what I had for breakfast and/or if there are any hot girls around me from a country in question.

3) The Asia Two-Step: Japan rules the roost in this region. (The Sox have Dice-K & Oki-Dokie, plus Ichiro is on my Fantasy Team. That’s plenty enough reason for me.) After that comes Taiwan (I always love their Little League team and I respect a nation that lives only at the sufferance of Big Brother China), then South Korea. After that is India, then the archipelago states (Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia, etc.) and tiny island nations (Guam, Papa New Guinea, etc.) in no particular order (see rooting conditions listed under “NATO Countries”).

4) Former Warsaw Pact Countries: Poland, Hungary, Romania, et al. Hey, you gotta love countries that have thrown off the shackles of despotism!

5) Former Soviet Republics: Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, Georgia, Ukraine & the “‘stans” of the world… except for the crazy-dictator ones.

6) ANY democracy over a communist/totalitarian/religious state. This means Korea over Cuba, South Africa over U.A.E. or Brazil over Libya.

Needless to say, I’ve been politely sitting on my hands whenever I see China play.

I’d like to tell you all that during my second trip to the main field at Wukesong to see Baseball that I learned something interesting about the Chinese or Chinese culture. Since this game would pit the Cuban powerhouse against the scrappy Koreans, maybe I would run into some folks from either of those countries and gain some enlightenment about their cultures.

Not so.

The biggest lessons that I learned from this game were twofold: 1) Take an open-minded person to their first baseball game, explain things in a clear, concise manner and more often than not you will convert said person into a fan of the game. It worked last time with Kerry, and from all accounts, I was successful with Rachel this time around… 2) Its really fucking hot in Beijing in the summer.

It was another Blue Sky day for the Chinese. That is, air pollution levels were low and the bright blue sky was very summery. Lord, how I wish that it hadn’t been! All throughout this day I found myself wishing that some huge cloud of smog would position itself over the field and stop the sun from beating down on the backs of our heads. It was simply brutal: With an air temperature hovering around 95 degrees, the sweltering sun and humidity made it feel like at least 110. (NOTE: Click on any of the pictures beow to jump to my complete photo album from this day with lots of additional details.)

YIKES! And me & Rachel without any sun block! At least the seats were awesome, as always: 3^rd row, right next to First Base.

I had been told that the Koreans had a passion for baseball that rivaled the insane display that I had seen at the Taiwan vs. Japan game. While this may be true, it was impossible to verify this during this weather. I don’t care how passionate you are…

You’re gonna get worn down by the heat…

Until everybody’s wearing their crazy scarves on their heads and melting away slowly.

It was a great game, though. I met some cool Koreans, though with the energy levels down significantly by the end of the game, there wasn’t a lot of enthusiasm for picture taking. Not many people stopped me looking for photos.

I did, however, snag this photo of the high point of the day- New baseball convert Rachel ready to snag a foul ball should one come our way.

After the game, we retreated into an air-conditioned cab and Rachel took me to a great little dumpling place on a side street close to her neighborhood. 8 dishes were ordered, with 3 drinks between us. All of the food was awesome and, despite our best efforts, we were unable to finish it all. Total cost? $14 USD. Amazing.

I’ll definitely be going back there… And I’ll definitely be back for more baseball. At least one more time.

My friend Julie back in Boston had a rough day last week. The big Gold Medal softball game between her company and a team from a law firm didn’t turn out as she would have liked. That is, it was a huge turd of a game where her team was completely humiliated by a bunch of 2-bit hack scheisters.

This post reminds me of Jim McKay’s famous voice-over at the start of the old Wide World of Sports broadcast on ABC: “…The agony of defeat.”

Sorry, Julie Houli. Maybe you’ll get ‘em in 2012. I’ll be looking for you in London!

The Closing Ceremonies were held last night. I watched them with some Chinese friends and had a blast. (You folks reading from The States should get them sometime today/tonight on NBC.) I’ll get to my reflections in a later post; I have a few more events to tell you about in the meantime as I catch up on my writing & photo album creation.

At the risk of throwing the continuity of my little blog universe out of whack, I did want to acknowledge that the games have ended and point you towards this great AP article that I came across when I got home from the viewing party that I attended. The writer has captured my feelings about these games exactly:

…China concluded its debut as Olympic host Sunday after 16 days of near-flawless logistics and superlative athletic achievement — coexisting awkwardly with the government’s wariness of dissent and free speech.

 

To a large extent, China, an emergent superpower, got what it had craved from these long-sought games: a dominant effort by its athletes to top the gold-medal standings for the first time and almost glitch-free organizing that showcased world-class venues and cheerful volunteers to the largest-ever peaceful influx of foreign visitors.

I’ve gotta say, while I was in the middle of the logistical marvel that was the Olympics, it was easy to forget all of the political hoopla surrounding the awarding of the games in the first place and just get swept up in the infectious “One World, One Dream”-ness that suffused the city.

Hey, I know that this was partially willful blindness to what was happening in the outside world and behind the scenes, but I think that it was worth it for 16 days of peace, love and harmony in the heart of a totalitarian state for 1 million international visitors and Chinese.

More to come…