Meddling: The Olympic Scandal That Shocked the World

 Meddling: The Olympic Scandal That Shocked the World (2022)

Directed by Todd Kapostasy

Click here for my Letterboxd review

The RyMickey Rating:  B

He Had High Hopes...

So the Philadelphia Phillies inducted Harry Kalas into their Wall of Fame today, an honor that heretofore was only allowed for players and coaches. I was at the game and there was a nice little tribute to the great announcer in a ceremony prior to the first pitch tonight. Mike Schmidt (whom I supposedly modeled my stance after when I was a youth...there apparently was a moderate butt shake involved that I copied from Schmitty [wikipedia calls it a "waving of his posterior while waiting for a pitch," but let's call a spade a spade -- I shook my ass in the batter's box apparently]) gave a short but sweet speech about Kalas and then Kalas's family was shepherded around the stadium in a car. Granted, it wasn't anything exciting, but Phillies baseball really is missing something without him. I find myself not listening to radio broadcasts nearly as much anymore (I realize he did the tv broadcasts, too). Anyway, the Phils' lack of any type of offensive strength when runners were in scoring position led to a loss (haven't seen a winning game at Citizens' Bank Park this year), but the tribute was nice.

Below is both the tribute video that Comcast SportsNet aired immediately following Kalas' death. And below that is my original post from back in April the day Kalas died.




***Originally posted 4/13/09***

As owner David Montgomery said, the Philadelphia Philles have lost their voice today, with the announcement that Harry Kalas has passed away.

Kalas was with the Phils since before I was born and he was the Phillies. Players came and went, but Harry was always there, singing "High Hopes" whenever the mood set in (which, to be completely honest, I never really understood, but now I feel guilty for thinking it was odd).

I guess my Kalas memory would be anytime he said "Michael Jack Schmidt" when I was growing up. I mean, I don't remember any specific time he used the name (heck, Schmidt stopped playing before I turned 10), but I really do remember his staccato reading of "Michael Jack Schmidt." Definitely fun (and certainly sad) to hear that repeated during the reminiscing today on Comcast Sportsnet.

It's fitting that he got to see the Phils win the World Series last year, and fitting still that he threw out the first pitch the day of their ring ceremony.

Harry, you will be missed.

The Greatest Outdoor Game Ever Created?

After going to a shitty Phillies game today, sports was the last thing on my mind.

Begrudgingly, my brothers convinced me to head outside and play a game of volleyball. I obliged, and although I like volleyball, let's be honest here...it takes a few games in order to get your hands used to the nonstop impact. After one game, everyone was rubbing their wrists in pain, but, despite the incessant gnawing by mosquitos, no one wanted to retire inside.

And then, we decided to play quite possibly the greatest outdoor game ever created -- Newcomb. Although, let's be honest here, it definitely appears infinitely more awesome if you use this commonly used spelling variant-- Nuke 'Em.

Nuke 'Em was created by Clara Gregory Baer in 1895 as an "easier" version of volleyball for elementary school kids (History Lesson courtesy of wikipedia). But, as I'm sure my brothers and Hawaiian cousin would attest, "easier" does not necessarily mean less intense (as my brother's bruised knee will show). You play with a volleyball, but throw rather than hit the ball over the net.

There is definite need to be clever and one must take advantage of the ability to change the pace of the game at your will. Toss quickly, or make your opponents quiver nervously in anticipation of your move. Granted, I think the game works best with two players per team -- much more people and it would be too difficult to find the sweet "uncatchable" spot on the opposing players' side.

Sure, the Phils just blew a ten-game winning streak today, but my team's Nuke 'Em record stands undefeated. Who needs nice Old Geezer Jamie Moyer (or for that matter Misty May Treanor or Karch Kiraly) when you could have Old Man Me on your team? (That's right...I'm pulling out the obscure volleyball references now...)

Dome Sweet Dome (Or Not)

[I didn't realize how long this was going to be when I started...seriously...it's like a novel...I realize no one will likely make it through this but a select few of you...sorry...I kinda just want this for my "records/memory/etc." as well...]

So, I went to my first Phillies away game here in Florida this evening and apparently, I need to travel 15 hours to see the Phils win (because they sure as heck never win when I go and see them at home...except when it really matters like World Series games ;-) ).  Old man Jamie Moyer pitched an excellent game and the Phils offense blasted the Rays 10-1.

Anyway, it was certainly an experience at Tropicana Field.  It was the first time I've ever been to a dome stadium, and as I saw it from the highway initially, I couldn't help but think that it looked like a giant baseball cap.  It even had the "buttony" thing you'd find atop a hat.  Regardless, it wasn't necessarily a pretty sight.  But, as we pull into the incredibly small parking lot, we are told that since there are four people in our car, we don't have to pay for parking.  Can't beat that, right?  The joy of carpooling, I guess.  Can you imagine Philly doing something like that?  I think not.  As we got out of the car, it was the only time we were heckled (of course, all four of us -- my dad, two brothers, and myself -- were adorned in Phillies regalia...had to shove it in the Rays' face).  It was a simple, sarcastic "Go Phillies!" followed by a laugh.  Gee, very clever.  Walking up to the baseball cap -- I mean, stadium -- we trekked across a 200+ foot long tile artwork of sea life...kinda effeminate and unsportslike.

After getting our tickets, we walked into the dome and attempted to find our seats.  The problem with the dome is that since there is essentially no seating in the outfield (you see, you've gotta have space for the "pet the sting ray" exhibits out there in centerfield), you've got to trek all the way around the building in order to even find a stairway to get to your seats if you're sitting in the upper decks...and of course, we were sitting in the highest level possible.  A flaw in the design, for sure.  And then, when you finally find the stairs to get up to the upper levels, there is literally only one escalator that you can use to get up there.  One frickin' escalator?  Then again, when you don't have any fans, it really doesn't matter, I guess.

So anyway, we arrive at our seats behind home plate (essentially the same 300 level seats we have at our Phils games).  By this point, it was halfway through the first inning and the Phils had three runs on the board and the Rays fans that were there were already mellowed out and done with the game.  By the time the first inning was over, John Mayberry (in for "my boy," the ailing Raul Ibanez) had hit a three-run homer as well, and the annoying obnoxious cowbell ringing by the Rays fans was already being drowned out by the Phillies fans scattered throughout the dome.  (Note: why cowbells?  It has nothing to do with a sting ray.  Why not carry around a bunch of those singing hang-on-the-wall bass fish?  At least that's sea-related.)

Let's examine the innards of the dome for a minute, shall we?  At the top of the dome there's a white tarp essentially.  There are holes cut out of the tarp where various support poles go through, but it's essentially a tarp.  And the weird thing is, from the outside of the stadium, it looks like it's a tarp as well.  So, are there two tarps?  I can't imagine there's not something sturdier creating the dome-like top, but all you could really see from the inside and outside was a tarp-like thing (you couldn't see the sky from inside the building, obviously...so is it two tarps?  I'm sure I could research, but at the moment, I'm not going to).  Anyway, so I remembered from the World Series last year that there were catwalks around the upper portions of the dome and we got to see a ball hit those damn catwalks tonight.  Talk about annoying.  And don't even get me started on the white baseball blending right in with the white tarps.  I don't know how the outfielders see the damn thing.  

As far as the concourses throughout the dome, they were okay, but it didn't feel like a baseball stadium.  They had fake brick façades all around the thing, but they were fake brick façades...it wasn't "real" or "authentic." They had plenty of tvs around, but some of them were showing...wait for it...Access Hollywood.  That's right...nothing like watching Access Hollywood while at a baseball game.  If that doesn't tell how much Tampa fans don't give a shit, then I don't know what will.  I will say that the food selection was better here than in Philly.  There was an Outback in the park with surprisingly moderately priced selections (no steak, obviously, but other stuff from their menu).  But get this...they gave you a bag with handles to carry your food in.  A bag with handles at a ballpark?  Never in Philly!  (I kid...but only sort of.)

Alright, so I've described the look of the stadium, but now let's get to the best part -- the fact that I was essentially watching a minor league Wilmington Blue Rocks game at a professional Major League Baseball stadium.  I'm not talking about the Rays awful fielding (3-4 errors tonight) or their inability to hit the ball.  I'm talking about the stuff that went on in between innings.  Let's discuss...

• The Chicken Dance-Off -- You all know the Chicken Dance -- you know that awful thing you're forced to do at weddings because newlywed couples apparently think it's funny to force people to participate in ridiculous group dances [Please note Future Wife -- there will be no group dances at any wedding I'm a part of].  Well, here at Tropicana Field, they have the Chicken Dance-Off where one person from two adjoining sections of the stadium dances the Chicken Dance on the big board and whoever dances it the best gets to take home a coupon for free wings from Checkers.  Now, as if that wasn't bad enough to watch it on the big screen, apparently, all Rays fans think that it's fun to do the dance, too.  So, all around us, folks were doing the Chicken Dance.  You really think that's fun?  Never in Philly! (You'll see that phrase pop up often here.)
• Next, it's these guys:They race from third base to home in a completely pre-staged race.  Last night, Mr. Pepsi made it all the way to home plate, turned around right at the last second to flaunt his victory, and Mr. Aquafina made a bounding leap across the finish line to take the victory.  Someone in some row won something.  Really?  How frickin' ridiculous is that?  The Rays fans ate it up.  In Philly, they'd throw bottles at them (see here for proof).
• Spot the Cow -- Yep...this one was sponsored by Chick-Fil-A.  Somewhere in the stadium is a giant cow (similar to the Pepsi product bottles above).  There is a Rays fan in the outfield in front of one of the Rays' television cameras.  This fan has 15 seconds to move the camera, find the cow, and zoom in on him.  If he succeeds, he gets a prize pack from Chick-Fil-A.  The guy failed.  No prize pack for him.  Utter dumbfoundness for me.
• Don't Smoke -- The last two/three innings were filled with "Don't Smoke" PSA's.  "Don't Smoke, Don't Chew [tobacco], Blah, Blah, Blah."  I'm fine with that...I hate the smell of a cigarette.  [Now, a pipe I might be able to latch on to...I can see myself sitting on some leather chair in my study with gray hair and a pipe in my hand speaking with a slight accent and saying things like "fine chap" and "good man" thirty-plus years from now.]  But, the silly thing is they pick some kid out of the crowd to say "I Don't Smoke" and then they kinda sorta ridicule him when he says "I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't do any of that stuff."  What did you want him to say exactly?  Don't make fun of the kid!  Never in Philly ('Cuz in Philly they'd have a tough enough time finding a kid that could say that in the first place)!
• And the person that made fun of the kid was our friendly emcee who was with us every frickin' inning, hosting these ridiculous "games."  He was annoying as could be.

I haven't even mentioned the worst part of the dome...not being outside.  You'd think that being in a dome, they'd have the air pumping through that baby.  However, at about the third inning, I turned to my youngest brother and said, "Is it hot in here or just me?"  He said it was hot, which made me feel better since I thought I might've been getting a fever.  When my other brother came back from getting dinner from Outback (with the effeminate bag as I mentioned above), he said that he thought he was getting a fever, too.  You've created a dome, people!  Keep it climate-controlled!  Isn't that the point?

Anyway, overall, despite the complaints, I had a really great time.  It was an enjoyable diversion from this sweet, sugary vacation from the Happiest Place on Earth.  Rays fans were nice (and the Phillies fans there were incredibly pleasant, too).  The atmosphere, while certainly minor league, provided much laughter.  And the Phils won.  What more could I have asked for?  Sure, I missed sitting outside at Citizens Bank Park, watching the good old Septa races and longing for Bobble Red to slide into home on the big screen...but it was fun to shove a victory in the Rays fans' faces again.  When we were walking out to our car at the end of the game, it was a hoot to hear a Rays fan yell, "You Phillies only won the World Series because of the weather!" (obviously referencing this).  Um, as my brother said (and I'm paraphrasing here), I think we kicked your ass tonight in a climate-controlled dome, so shove it.

We Are the Champions

Who cares the the rings were incredibly ostentatious?  It's still pretty damn cool that a hometown team can wear championship rings.

The Phillies Ring Ceremony happened this afternoon.  True, what kind of fan am I, since I forgot.  But, I did get to watch the replay a few minutes ago, and, admittedly, it was kinda cool to see everyone out on the field (loved the extra applause for Joe Blanton, Matt Stairs, and a seriously humbled Jamie Moyer).  

Then, to follow that up with a win this afternoon...sure, it helped that the Braves allowed the Phils to literally walk right over home plate six times, but it was a nice cap to a day that doesn't come often enough in Philly.

We'll forget about the fact that the Phils' offense still needs some work (although that is showing some life) and that Myers, Moyer, and Blanton haven't looked so hot so far...we'll forget about it for today at least.

Opening Night!

I don't ever remember being as excited about an opening night of baseball before, but for some reason, I was psyched for the Phillies' first game of the season.  

I'm sure going to the fourth game of the World Series last year and experiencing the thrill of communal excitement has something to do with it -- high-fiving complete strangers when Blanton (the freakin' pitcher!) hit a home run, listening to (and somewhat joining in) the drunks yelling "Eva!" at the Rays' Evan Longoria, laughing hysterically as "Philadelphia Legend Patti LaBelle" sang the incorrect words to the National Anthem -- all those things and more are still resonating from me from last year.

And then the completely inconsistent Brett Myers takes the mound tonight and blows it in the first two innings.  Granted, the Phils' offense didn't provide Myers any help (until an ill-fated ninth inning rally) and he admittedly looked better after the second inning, but Myers' typical unpredictability doesn't foster hope.

But hope we must have.

Then again, last season I was certainly prone to saying, "The Phillies suck."  In August and September, I was certainly the one that had no hope in this team.  

Maybe I just need to not care...or at the very least not have any faith in them...It worked last year.

Oh, well...it's just one game...161 to go...

The Eagles Suck...

McNabb and pressure don't mix...

Oh well, at least we have the Phillies...