Next up, Mount Whitney
After scaling a faux boulder at the Nike Sports Complex, I think she’s ready to bag her first fourteener.
Football fail
We headed to Blackstock Stadium hoping to enjoy a competitive football game. Instead, we got a 45-0 shellacking of Wittenberg over DePauw. The highlight of the day for me was observing the pom-pom hairdo effect created by the afternoon’s gusting winds.
Howling like a wolf and playing with dirt
When I was a tike, I often romped at Northside Park in Wheaton, which is why it’s particularly special that I’m now able to take Isla there. Last weekend, she wandered over to the park’s baseball diamond and stood upon the pitcher’s mound. I expected — even hoped — that she’d then pretend to throw a pitch toward home plate. Instead, she turned the tomboy level up a notch, howling like a wolf for a minute or so before falling to her knees and exuberantly playing with dirt.
A friend recently reminded me that, when Isla was a newborn, I’d commented that I didn’t want a delicate, princess-obsessed daughter. And this is very much true. I’m thrilled to have a rough-and-tumble kiddo.
Schadenfreude. Pure schadenfreude
NUVO Newsweekly has published photos I took at last Saturday’s Tough Mudder Indiana, a 12-mile, British Forces-designed, borderline-sadistic obstacle course. You can check out bonus shots from the event here and here and here.
If only Wes Welker had hands these skilled
As a fan of the Titans and Bears and a loather of the Giants and Patriots, I had little interest in the outcome of Super Bowl XLVI. Nonetheless, I made the short jaunt from Chicago to Indianapolis to take in the pregame frenzy firsthand. A surprising highlight for me was watching crafty Ohioans from Wilson Sporting Goods hand-construct footballs at the NFL Experience. Here’s a bonus photo of a Wilson employee at work, and one more for good measure.
Thank you, Houston Oilers, for conditioning me to shrug off defeats
I spent last Saturday afternoon watching my undergrad alma mater, North Central College, blow a 21-point fourth-quarter lead to Wabash College, losing 29-28 in the second round of the Division III football playoffs. Wabash secured the win in the game’s final minute on a flukey two-point conversion pass that deflected off the outstretched hands of a Little Giant into the arms of a teammate who stood an inch or two inbounds in the corner of the end zone.
It was a disappointing defeat, as well as a stunning one. North Central’s defense had surrendered a mere 34 points through seven conference games and had held Wabash scoreless through 30 minutes of play. I couldn’t fathom that same defense surrendering 22 points in a single quarter — particularly to a team that was playing with its second-string quarterback.
As a longtime fan of the Houston Oilers/Tennessee Titans, I’ve endured countless disappointing and stunning defeats. Most memorably, there’s “The Comeback” game of January 1993 in which the Oilers pummeled the Buffalo Bills through two-plus quarters of play, taking a seemingly insurmountable lead of 35-3 after safety Bubba McDowell intercepted a Frank Reich pass and took it to the house. I remember calling my brother after that pick six, both of us gleeful, confident that the our team would prevail, even talking about meeting up in Pittsburgh the following weekend for the Oilers’ next playoff game.
Of course, it wasn’t to be. Houston fell apart on both sides of the ball, losing 41-38 in overtime to a Buffalo team that, like Wabash, was led by its backup quarterback. Point-wise, it marked the largest blown loss in NFL history.
There is a silver lining to the debacle in Buffalo. When your favored football team blows a 32-point lead in a playoff game, all future losses pale in comparison. It’s like I’ve been immunized against crushing sports heartbreak. Sure, I’m often disappointed by the outcomes of games, but they all pale in comparison to the Oilers’ historic collapse. Thanks to the Oilers, I’ve been conditioned to shrug off defeats.
I took photos at the North Central-Wabash game and have posted them on Flickr. The images are a bit grainy, as I was seated far from the field of play in the top row of the bleachers. Also, photo-unfriendly clouds loomed low in the sky, casting a gray pall across the field — particularly in the fourth quarter.
Sidenote I: Pete Metzelaars, a star tight end for the Buffalo Bills from 1985 to 1994, graduated from (drumroll, please…) Wabash.
Sidenote II: In 2001 Wabash defeated DePauw University — then coached by my father-in-law, Nick Mourouzis — on a Hail Mary pass that bounced off the helmet of a Little Giant into the hands of a teammate.
Tough mudding in small-town Indiana
NUVO published my preview of Tough Mudder Indiana late last week. I eagerly signed up for this writing and photography assignment, in part because the event was being held in Attica, a short drive from my family’s farm. I’ve been traveling through Attica, a town of 2,400 denizens, since childhood, and it’s a community that, for better and worse, largely has remained unchanged over the course of my lifetime.
An estimated 15,000 participants registered for Tough Mudder, and I wondered how well Attica would be able to absorb an influx of visitors six times its population. The town appeared to be up to the challenge. As I drove through the community yesterday, it seemed like any other Saturday, with light traffic on the main drag. The 700-acre event host, Badlands Off-Road Park, effectively swallowed up the many thousands of participants and spectators, keeping them out of sight on the edge of town.
A mohawked Mudder nears the finish line
I spent three hours taking photos at Tough Mudder. You can check out the images on Flickr. I’ll share high-resolution photos from the event here at DeStewart in a week or two.
I won’t be joining the ranks of Mudders anytime soon, but I now have a better understanding of the event’s appeal. As one of my interviewee’s put it, Tough Mudder is “one part triathlon, one part UFC, and one part Woodstock.” The setting had a post-apocalyptic feel about it, like a scene out of a Cormac McCarthy novel. But the spirit of camaraderie prevailed. Tough Mudder isn’t about winning; it’s about finishing — and about somehow, between barbed-wire pricks to the back and jolts of electricity to the neck and fire and ice underfoot, having fun in the process.
Update: NUVO has posted a sampling of my Tough Mudder photos.
Enthusiasm, a prereq for greatness
Coach Nick shown leading DePauw against Wabash in 2003
Thirty years ago today, my father-in-law — Nick Mourouzis — led DePauw to a 21-14 triumph over archrival Wabash. The game marked Nick’s first Monon Bell experience as head coach of the Tigers. He went on to become the university’s winningest football coach, compiling 138 victories over his 23 years at the helm.
Not every man has a good relationship with his father-in-law, but I can say, in all honesty, that Nick is not only a beloved family member, he’s also one of my dearest friends. An eternal optimist possessing boundless energy and graciousness, he is simply a joy to be around. Countless others share my high opinion of Nick. Spend an afternoon with him walking around Indianapolis, and you’re bound to be interrupted a half-dozen times by shouts of “Coach Nick!” from friends and acquaintances who recognize him on the street.
Nick is fond of reciting quotes, particularly those of the motivational variety. One of his favorites, originally penned by Ralph Waldo Emerson, is this: “Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm.”
I’ve never met anyone who’s as consistently enthusiastic as Nick — whether it’s eating Greek food or playing with his grandchildren or doing something as seemingly mundane as cleaning out a garage, he engages the moment with gusto. And it is through this enthusiasm that he has achieved greatness, both on the field and off.