Hawkeye Style

Thank you, Deadspin, for posting this video to a wider audience.

College football, a sport of rivalry, pageantry, and not a little bit of id, concluded its regular season last weekend.  Now we await bowl season, a calendar of thirty-four arranged matches lousy with corporate sponsorship overlaying America's holiday calendar.  It all culminates on 7 January 2010 when Alabama and Texas play in the Citi BCS National Championship for the "Coaches' Trophy presented by Dr. Pepper."  The whole spectacle of college football with its marching bands, cheerleaders, and huge stadiums bedecked in partisan apparel only intensifies for these events.

All those trappings of competition might be symptomatic of unfortunate tribalistic fervor with disturbing resemblances to militant nationalism.  However, it should be remembered that many parts of America have embraced university teams because of a dearth of other amusements.  This would be especially true of many state schools.  Notice a pattern among many of these other top-ranked teams in addition to Alabama and Texas: Utah, Nebraska, Oklahoma State, West Virginia, and Iowa.  Most of these places are long on rural heritage and without a local professional team.  Too little  urban entertainment should help explain why aspiring rapper Notti Boy took the time to record the largely wholesome video above in support of his team, University of Iowa Hawkeyes.  It sounds like hip-hop in the Midwest has not changed much since the start of the decade. Imagine the even greater limitations of supporters for high achieving football squads at religious institutions like BYU (Brigham Young University, a Mormon college in Provo, Utah) and TCU (Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, TX).

Iowa and Georgia Tech play in the FedEx Orange Bowl on 5 January 2010.

Animation Nation

Max Horovitz (voiced by Philip Seymour Hoffman) has anxiety problems. Image from the Mary & Max website.

Singapore's annual Animation Nation 2009 festival finished this week. The Passengers managed to see two wonderful, whimsical features: Mary & Max and The Secret of Kells. The week of moving pictures was put on my the Singapore Film Society and hosted at the National Museum's (blogged here) lecture theater/cinema. The selections this year included cartoons from around the world and with varying tones of seriousness. Waltz with Bashir, animated recollections from Israeli soldiers, is definitely not a kids' movie, but the adventures of Brendan through the Irish wilderness in The Secret of Kells are a young boy's fantasy.

Aisling and Brendan explore the forest in The Secret of Kells. Guriguriblog has a great look at the film's Insular qualities.

Both of the films we saw arrived on a diplomatic platform. Mary & Max, a really touching story about unlikely pen pals writing from Australia and New York City in the 1970's, came to Singapore as part of the cultural outreach of the Australian High Commission, and the Irish HC actually sent a representative to introduce the Secret of Kells as we saw the film on the festival's opening night. The diplomatic missions to Singapore often play a visible role in the island's social/cultural scene. In part, this serves to bring a bit of home to the various ex-pat communities here, but these countries also want to promote themselves to encourage business and trade relationships with Singaporeans. Next weekend begins Berlin Dayz, courtesy of the German Embassy Singapore.

The cat Pangur Ban in The Secret of Kells gets his name from a Gaelic poem written by an Irish monk in the ninth century. More character sketches from the filmmakers here.

And did I mention The Secret of Kells weaves its tale around the creation of the famous Irish illuminated manuscript, the Book of Kells, made around 800 CE? What could be better?

USA Soccer: Now some Better News

Go Wiz!

Contrary to yesterday's post, soccer is not unappreciated and unnoticed in the United States. In fact, the world's most popular spectator sport has finally found itself a place in world's largest entertainment market. Of course, soccer is not about to usurp college football or Nascar or the NFL from the nation's sporting liturgy, but the nation has slowly and steadily created opportunities to attract and retain passionate fans.

The most important effort has been the creation of Major League Soccer (MLS) in 1996. Major investments in America's domestic league began with ten teams in 1996 as an effort to capitalize on the enthusiasm generated by the 1994 World Cup finals held in the United States. Rather than splash out on top European or Latin American players in hopes of attracting huge crowds, as the ill-fated North American Soccer League did in the 1970's, the initial investors agreed to tight-fisted salary caps. Moreover, for the sake of nurturing domestic talent, i.e. the national team, each club was limited to carrying only five foreign-born players.

The experiment has undergone a number of growing pains. At first, many of the teams competed in giant stadiums designed for American football. Though these established venues were happy to lease out space in the spring and summer months, their over-sized dimensions meant that even a great turnout of 20,000 fans would bring a stadium to maybe 25% capacity. Now many franchises have sought out smaller, more intimate venues on college campuses or minor-league ballparks. LA and Columbus even have soccer-specific stadia.

Crew Stadium in Columbus, OH, offers a more fitting soccer venue than the city's 100,000-seat Ohio Stadium, aka "The Horseshoe."

Those early optics were not helped by the 1990's American sports trend of nicknaming teams for concepts and non-plural nouns. This trend produced head-scratchers like Tampa Bay Lightning in the NHL, but MLS took it to another level: Columbus Crew, San Jose Clash, Tampa Bay Mutiny. Most of these clubs were stationed in growing cities with only modest experience in pro sports, but Kansas City should have known better than to call its club KC Wiz. The name may reference "The Wizard of Oz," but a crowd chanting, "Go Wiz!" won't really intimidate the opposition. The team hastily became the Wizards in November 1996; Dallas Burn are now simply FC Dallas, and San Jose plays as Earthquakes.

The name change for Dallas taps into the current MLS trend: burnishing a side's soccer bonafides by imitating established club names in Europe. Incremental expansion has brought Real Salt Lake, Houston Dynamo, Toronto FC, and soon Philadelphia Union. Los Angeles even has Club Deportivo Chivas USA, an American offshoot of the established Guadalajara club and the area's Spanish friendly counterweight to flash LA Galaxy.

Stuart Holden of Amigo Energy (Houston Dynamo) challenges Seth Stammler of Red Bull (New York Red Bulls). Photo by Mike Stobe for Getty, 16 May 2009.

For fourteen seasons MLS has declined to buy their way to the top of the US sporting scene and settled instead for organic growth. This patience has helped to manage expectations and build a loyal fan base. The most publicized MLS story, LA Galaxy's purchase of celebrity footballer David Beckham in 2007, stood as a clear exception to the overall business model. The first franchise owners may have included heavyweights from the NFL and NHL, like Anschutz Entertainment Group (AEG) and the late Lamar Hunt, but they ventured forth with a rather conservative, even European business model. Notice the choice to accept the dependable revenue of shirt sponsors. It might be a common practice worldwide, but none of the major television sports in America does that. MLS knew they were starting a league that couldn't outplay or outdraw the English Premiership or Serie A for viewers or players. Sustainability had to trump theater.

National Railway Museum, York

The Great Hall of the National Railway Museum holds train engines from Britain, Japan, and China. Some of the rolling stock hails from the nineteenth century.

During previous visits to York, I have always been too busy with research to stop in to the National Railway Museum, despite all the good press it receives. Fortunately, one of my stays here finally included a Sunday, which forces me to take a break from church visits (I was raised much too properly to wander the aisles staring upwards and scrutinizing the profiles of vault ribs as a vicar delivers his homily). I decided instead to apply my medieval mind to something much more modern.

Despite the obvious hypocrisy, this art historian find train enthusiasts to be very boring creatures overly concerned about defunct institutions and outdated technology. However, the museum takes care to tell how the history of train travel in Britain, and worldwide, changed leisure, trade, politics, and industry. Railroads opened up all sorts of opportunities and their historical course includes sites for everyone's interests. That and the place is full of huge locomotives that are big, heavy, expensive, powerful, and go faster and faster and faster. I admit I handed control of my afternoon over to childish enthusiasms, but I condoned my glee by reminding myself that I was tech-gawking at rolling stock, not high-powered war machines. Below are some photos. It's a little heavy on boy material (locomotives), but I assure everyone that I did take the time to see the beautifully appointed Royal carriages dating back to Queen Victoria.

The National Railway museum sits behind York's passenger terminal in what used to be the York Freight Depot Goods Warehouse for the Northeastern Railway Company.

The Duchess of Holland was built in 1938 and streamlined with ultra-sleek cladding, but all of its style was removed during World War II. Its shape and colors were only restored this year.

The NRM collection continues to expand. Here in "The Workshop" conservators labor to return the famous Flying Scotsman steam engine to working order.

The Mallard set the current world speed record for a steam-powered train in 1938: 126 mph.

The electric turntable at the center of the Great Hall helped trains at York station turn around from 1954 until the end of steam service in 1968. The museum holds daily demonstrations.

Anniversary, Rottingdean

The town of Rottingdean lies in a valley where the South Downs meet the English Channel.

The Passengers have been married a whole year now, plus a few weeks spent getting around to finishing this post and loading the photos. For our paper anniversary we made a pilgrimage back to the south coast of England where we were married at St. Margaret's church in Rottingdean. We spent two nights in this postcard village where Rudyard Kipling (and H's grandmother) used to live. The day included a walk across the south downs overlooking the sea and a very relaxed dinner of fresh scallops and langoustines at Riddle & Finns in nearby Brighton. Here are some images to show what makes the village such a pleasant retreat.

St. Margaret's church in the center of the village. Parts of the building pre-date William the Conqueror. The house immediately in front of the church was Kipling's home, The Elms.

Overlooking the downs.

A Tudor-era (16th Century) cottage near the village green.

The Kipling Gardens were created in 1983 as a means to preserve part of the village's historic core.

Life in the North Yorkshire Dales

I had to cross several time zones, but I have finally made it back to the Midwest. Actually, these days I am even further from the Midwest than usual. I am in Ripon in North Yorkshire to do research on the big stone church here. The city is an historic market town on the River Skell; the monastery that later became Ripon Cathedral goes back to the seventh century. However, most of the urban fabric, including the market place, dates only back to the eighteenth century.

It's a remote place by English standards. There is no train station; I arrived by bus from Harrogate. The nearest university is probably aways south in Leeds or York. Both of those are considered relatively new institutions. The University of Leeds is barely one hundred years old. Again, English standards. Historically, Ripon arose from agriculture and livestock around the Yorkshire Dales. Now much of its economy relies on tourism. In addition to historic charm Ripon has a well known racecourse. The city lies between the Yorkshire Dales and the North Yorkshire Moors National Parks, which makes it a good stop for literary folks chasing Brontes or Shelley or even James Herriot.

The tourism means the town has plenty of places to eat, but Ripon does not really bustle. I had to visit three pubs before I found one serving food after 7:30 tonight. Hotels are plentiful, but none of the major chains operate here. They are down in Harrogate with the International Centre. The agricultural history and its separation from the British mainstream give it a familiar feel to someone who grew up in the rural Midwest. The shops here are provincial. Even if daily newspapers and television link everyone into the latest fashion and music, those cultural touchstones don't travel very well. Urban fabrics and urban sounds are not quite suited to the lifestyle here. Likewise, the food has been good so far, but it is based around an agrarian diet where meat is plentiful and local, not a convergence of multiple cultures. I had my second pie (fish) for dinner in as many days. I am also on a first-name basis with several of the hotel staff already, and the library has kept a pile of books waiting for my return tomorrow. They are not carefully catalogued on a reserve shelf. The librarian simply stacked them atop the Help Desk with a note announcing my return tomorrow. Occasionally, locals ask why I left New York to spend a week here. I came here for work, but all those hometown qualities mean I don't go stir crazy here. I try to concentrate on the niceties that are cultivated by a more static environment. A preacher once described his hometown to me. "It's a great place to be from," he intoned. It's not glamorous, but being from somewhere teaches a lot about how to live somewhere.

BBC or NPR?

I got my wife hooked on listening to National Public Radio. I shouldn't be surprised, really. The NPR media organization and the various affiliated radio stations around the country represent the closest equivalent in these United States to BBC Radio 4. Nevertheless, anyone trying to convince a Briton of American radio's merits faces a serious task: The Archers vs. Shot 97.

The BBC operates a multitude of stations with Radio 4 given over to "intelligent speech." This includes radio versions of books and plays, topical satires, and the quaint and nationally beloved deadpan reading of the shipping forecast. The programming is incredibly accomplished, particularly the clear-minded journalism of the morning news show Today. The station is a daily staple of informed and middle-class households around the country. I recommend the Radio 4 Choice podcast to anyone wanting a sample.

National Public Radio could similarly be considered the airwaves for America's intelligentsia. But instead of carrying the staid tones of a state-funded media apparatus, NPR and its affliated stations operate with the hippie/hipster vibe of a co-op or an arts collective, hence all the pledge drives. Any distinctions between "hippie" and "hipster" come down to generational differences since Garrison Keillor (A Prairie Home Companion) and Ira Glass (This American Life) both maintain public radio's bohemian spirit. A comparison of their images shows that both of them have cultivated the humanities-professor look: Keillor as the rumpled, tenured don and Glass as the bright, young scholar. Both of them bring a laid-back approach to broadcast media, especially compared to other American news outlets, but aside from an hour or two of BBC News content, public radio mostly adheres to the American-centric approach to life and culture found throughout media in the US. I always found it a telling difference that Britain has Gardeners' Question Time as one of Britain's most popular and longest running radio shows. America, by turn has Car Talk. This means it's no sure thing that a Radio 4 listener will embrace NPR.

Fortunately, NPR is run by geeks, which appeals deeply to Passenger H. Radio 4 comes from civic-minded Oxbridge graduates who believe in regional accents. Most of the on-air personalities probably came from nice families, went to nice schools and universities, and then decided to help Britain maintain nice cultural standards. However, NPR producers seem to take up missions and carry them out with American earnestness. Radio Lab looks into science with unabashed awe, curiosity, and slightly manic sound effects. On the Media employs two top-notch journalists as hosts, not to break stories but to wax meta on how various journalistic practices shape public opinion of politics and journalism itself. And Garrison Keillor, of course, has been unashamedly and mellifluously talking up the virtues of traditional American music and poetry for years.

But the geekiness runs deeper than single-minded pursuits. These programs come from people who played in marching band and now consider it the chance-of-a-lifetime to spend airtime asking Leonard Nimoy about old Star Trek episodes. Peter Sagal hilariously brushed off homespun hero Tom Bodett for his ignorance of Star Wars lore on the Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me news quiz, "Darth Vader was a fallen Jedi whereas stormtroopers are clones. It's not. the. same." Even All Things Considered made sure to give the sci-fi television series Battlestar Galactica a fond farewell. Seriously geeky. But maybe it is all part of that American dream where everybody can create her own destiny, even geeks. Arguably, a couple of nerds have been guiding everything since 1975. Fortunately, podcasting and internet availability mean the Passengers rarely have to choose between NPR or the BBC, and in Singapore this summer we will still have both.

Update (16 June 2009): We really can have both. Just yesterday we found a way to stream WNYC through my iPod Touch.