We're having some ball over here

I’m ball boy for the next couple of days and that’ll be cool.

Did base while you were sleeping, am at soft now, be back at soft on Thursday morning here and then – finally -- some basket on Thursday night.

REUTERS

Terry Puhl, manager of Canada's Boys of (a very stinky, hot, humid) Summer.

But first, a few words about our Boys of (a very stinky, hot, humid) Summer and, specifically, manager Terry Puhl.

You’ve probably heard a mealy-mouthed quote or two from athletes over here talking about how it’s an honour to compete and they’ve done their best and learned a lot and love the atmosphere and they’ll go get ‘em next time.

Of course, that’s usually after they finish fifth or eighth or thirtieth or something.

Well, Puhl isn’t like that.

He’s here to win and win however he has to. He had Scott Thorman stealing second up five over China on Wednesday and is not going to worry about ruffling any feathers.

"We’re coming here with one thing in mind, to expose any team that we play. We have a lot of honour in this game but we’re here to win ball games.”

Gotta love the dude.

And then he said later that he was only going to play guys who are contributing and if someone’s nailed to the bench for the entire tournament, so be it.

"We’re here to win nine games.”

A refreshing attitude, if you ask me.

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I’ve only caught a little bit of basketball the past couple of days – I’ll get to spend some time there on Friday over here watching USA-Greece in what could be a doozy – but have spoken to a few NBA and FIBA types who’ve seen it all.

Early quick impressions:

Croatia’s good and Roko plays a pretty big role. He didn’t get much time in their game on Tuesday against Russia because Zoran Planicic was playing so well. They go to Ukic for a steady hand and I’m told he’s having a pretty good tournament through a couple of games.

Spain? Well, there are a lot of questions about coach Aito Garcia, who’s jerking around the starting lineup. He didn’t start Pau Gasol in the first game but started him in the second; he didn’t start Jose in the second game (for Juan Carlos Navarro) after starting him in the first. Neither of moves makes much sense so the thought is Spain’s 2-0 in spite of the coach, not because of him.

(An aside to everyone who’s asked: Jose’s fingers are fine; he’s got ‘em taped so he doesn’t hurt them again but told me on Sunday he’s 100 per cent).

The Amercans? For some reason they can’t shoot to save their souls, which is going to be the thing that jumps up and bites them in the butt sometime soon.

But I will tell you this: Kobe’s all over this tournament. When I was over there on Sunday to see Spain and Greece, a spy who was down near the court said the only American player who came by the arena to scout was Kobe, who stayed for about a half before heading out.

The dude wants to win above all else.

I’ll get you hoop heads some more tomorrow when I actually catch a break from soccer, archery, softball, baseball, water polo, field hockey and whatever else I do to fill my days and get a chance to see some basketball. Looking very much forward to that.

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They’re papering the houses here, finding volunteers with nothing to do – or finding people on the streets and telling them what to do – and outfitting them with tickets and orange shirts, sending them into the stands to cheer wildly.

Doesn’t matter which sport, doesn’t matter which country.

If there are wide expanses of empty seats – and there have been everywhere I’ve been except at the China-Canada soccer game in Tianjin – they’re filling them.

But how’d you like to be a local who actually paid money to see, say, women’s soccer between Canada and Sweden and you look over and your next door neighbour’s in an orange shirt enjoying a free night out.

Oh, and I guess that whole thing about how every ticket was sold was, um, not quite true.

What I want to know is where they have these large groups of idle volunteers ready to go watch a game at the drop of hat. They must be storing them somewhere we can’t see them.

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Okay, maybe the bloom is off the rose.

Was at the ballpark this morning (or deep in night back home) and two of the chickens came to roost. I mean, root.

But the red one wasn’t there. It was Blue and Green.

Maybe the red thing’s dumped me for something. I’m crushed.

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I don’t know what they were thinking with this.

It sort of appalls me because that’s not the Jose or Garbo I know. I’m sure it bothers a lot of right-thinking people and I’m sure someone in the Raptor brass will have word with Jose sometime.

It’s caused a bit of stir over here but the Spanish team hasn’t been around to do much explaining. They will be Thursday and I’m sure there’ll be more to report.

For now, here’s what Jose’s saying on his website.

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How 1970s of them. The fans at the Canada-Sweden soccer game the other night tried to get the wave started at the Worker’s Stadium.

Didn’t work, thankfully, because about the only thing worse than the wave are thunderstix and you all know how I feel about them.

I got a sneaking suspicion it was the seat-fillers who were told to start it. If so, they gotta get better seat fillers.

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Hey, the tank was gone when we arrived at the main press centre this morning. A couple of gun-toting soldiers were still there, though. -

You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen a gaggle of grunts sitting around trying to figure out the various soccer permutations while Canada was playing Sweden in the final preliminary round game the other night.

Was the first tie-breaker goal differential? What if Canada lost and the USA lost and Korea lost? Who would Canada play and where? What if China won and Canada won? It was like we needed an abacus and a smart person or two.

Of course, The First Lady and I were the winners on figuring out what was going to happen. We got that they were going to Shanghai to play the Americans and won the race.

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Okay, off to watch the women softballers face Netherlands. Turn it on when you're having breakfast, I think you'll like this team.

Some news and some entertainment (I hope)

This just in: The soccer women are through to the quarters.

Yup, you’re reading it here first, they got in when Germany beat Korea 1-0 in a game that ended about an hour before Canada took the field to face Sweden.

It’s still to be determined who they play and we’ll get that figured out after the game that I’m sure you’re all going to watch.

I now return you to your regularly-scheduled blog.

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You get a load of the story about the Aussies thinking Canada’s too rough at field hockey?

Half-rugby, half-field hockey is how one guy described the Canadian style of play.

I don’t know, but I went to the game and the last thing I thought was that Canada played tough.

In fact, there were so few collisions of any kind I figured most of the players’ energy went into avoiding people rather than even slightly bumping them.

And I thought Aussies were tough.

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My new favourite play?

The penalty corner in field hockey.

Just ‘cause the three guys put on those Hannibal Lecter masks and hide in the net while the attacking team pretty much tees up a shot from point blank range.

There’ve actually been a couple of cool things I’ve seen in competition that I hadn’t seen before.

The penalty corner’s one for sure (although The First Lady says I missed out not seeing a penalty flick) and the other is the sprint that starts water polo games.

Two guys bolt out of the net, dashing to get the ball and the first possession of each quarter.

Sorta reminds of two dudes trying to race to get the last flotation device at the swim-up bar.

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You may be reading a lot of softball by yours truly in the next week and a half, or for at least as long as Canada’s in medal contention.

Got over to the venue today (last night back in Ontario) and it’s a doozy.

Set in a real neighbourhood, with small streets, apartments and small businesses as opposed to the wide open spaces around them, it’s relatively quiet, quite brand new and sort of reminds me of a spring training ballyard.

And my good friend Tom Withers, the Associated Press expert on all things women’s softball, told me he picked Canada as the bronze medalists so maybe there’ll be more than a few trips to the park in my future.

I remember covering the women back in Athens in ’04 and they were a good story en route to a fifth-place finish, if they can get to the semis and the medal round here, they might become a great tale.

And, really, that’s what makes it so cool about covering teams over here – at least for now.

They tend to build momentum and interest back home and it’s much nicer to write about a developing story than, say, a one-time wonder who’s event starts and finishes all in one.

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Doug's new nickname in Beijing: Tank.

Like my new ride?

Makes it easy to get through – or over – traffic.

Seriously, though, not sure why they’ve stepped up blatant security but we saw soldiers with guns outside the media centre and a few locations around the main Games venue. And this nifty little number got left overnight ride at the entrance to the Main Press Centre.

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So now that I’m, like, an archery expert, I’m really intrigued by the sport.

Asked Toronto’s Crispin Duenas the other day about his training regimen and he ran through it extensively.

He does cardio, of course, lifts weights for upper body strength and works on his calves so they give him a steady base when he has to shoot.

And then he told me about working with a sports psychologist on relaxation techniques so he can slow his heart rate, which I presume makes it much easier to shoot with accuracy.

I asked him how that’s coming:

"After I’ve run around and everything and walked around and I’ve been awake for a while, I can get it down to 54 just by thinking about bringing it down. Not by doing anything special.”

Fifty-freaking-four! A hundred and fifty-four might be more like for a slug like me.

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Andre V of Toronto gets into the mailbag with:

‘Hey Doug, did you try some hotpot?’

Nope, not yet, it’s one of the delicacies I’ve yet to get to. But I will.

The cool part of the dining experience at our media village is we get breakfast as part of the cost and there’s always some local flavour to the meal.

Today, you could have had eggs, bacon, a frittata and a bagel.

Or, you could have done like me and gone with the hargow and noodles.

Very nice.

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It’s sort of cool to watch the fans watching sports they’re quite unfamiliar with and here – like it was in Athens – it’s baseball and softball that are strange to the people.

So much so that I’m sure some unassuming first-time local fan’s going to take a foul ball off the forehead.

Today at softball, a couple of lasers got hit down the lines into groups of fans who were chatting, watching the grass, checking out the sights and paying no attention.

Luckily, no one got clocked. But someone will, I’m sure.

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All you people who’re wondering when I’m going to get back to the business of basketball (and I hope there’s one or two out there), the answer is not for a couple of days.

But when I do, I’ll find out all I can about Roko because, while I’ve heard good things about the way he’s playing from independent observers, I haven’t had a chance to check him out myself. Probably Thursday.

-Okay, off to see the football women in action. Back tomorrow.

I think the Chickens are chasing me

Today, I was an expert in – ta-da! – archery!

Well, expert might be stretching it. Neophyte’s probably a better word and totally clueless might be a more apt description.

After all, I did sort of wander into the place looking for a guy with an apple on his head.

But that’s what makes the Olympics grand.

Sunday morning here, I get up and do water polo on deadline.

Monday morning here, I get up and do archery on deadline.

Lucky, lucky readers.

But it does put check marks in two more boxes of Sports I’ve Seen For The First (And Possibly Last) Time.

Gotta say, though, archery’s pretty cool

They got the requisite PA announcer who screams when a guy gets a 10 and is more muted and disappointed when it’s an eight or – gasp! – a seven.

And I saw a guy get a six, which only happens, I think, when the archer sneezes simultaneously with his release or shoots his arrow into the crowd.

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ANDY GAO/REUTERS

Doug Smith getting along just fine with the red one in Beijing.

The stuffed animals were back at the archery this morning and I’m wondering if a couple of them aren’t following me around ‘cause I’m such a fan of the various Chickens in the world.

This morning, or last night I guess for most of you, the red one and the blue one showed up at the archery field, or court, or stadium, or whatever. They did a little dance, much to the delight of the fans, wandered through the crowd for a minute before heading off to spread their own little brand of cheer elsewhere.

If I see the red one at field hockey later, or tennis, depending on where I have to go next, I’m gonna start thinking she/it/he’s got a crush on me. It’s my favourite, too.

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Hey, you know how we’re always having the discussion on which team sports athletes are the best athletes in the world and we talk about basketball (my pick), soccer (usually yours) and hockey (which is only in the discussion in Canada, I bet)?

Well, I’m putting water polo in the conversation.

I watched those Canadian guys go against Spain the other day (I think it was Sunday here, Saturday back there so I’m just going with ‘the other day’) and those dudes are fit.

I didn’t see one guy do a dead man’s float for one second in the pool.

No swim-up bar, either.

Seriously, it’s not a mainstream sport by any stretch of the imagination but the athletes have to be on the Mount Rushmore of toughest in team sports.

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Checking the mail, I see you folks are up to your usual hijinks of sending lots of questions; I’ll get to ‘em as I can:

Q: Are there any of the international rules you'd like to see the NBA adapt? Also, do you think all this FIBA officiating bashing is deserving? After all, it's not like NBA officials are known to be much better.

Tom P, Edmonton

A: Personally? I’d love to see the wider lane, except FIBA’s taking it out in favour of the rectangular one next year, I believe. I’d also love the two timeouts per half deal (I’d make a concession and let the players call them, too) but I can’t see that happening what with TV and all.

The rule that lets defenders go up and get the ball the cylinder's pretty good, too, but I don't know if it's workable in the NBA.

As for the officiating, there are far, far, far more international refs of dubious quality that there are NBA refs who aren’t good. The cream of the FIBA crop’s here, so it might not be an entirely true indication but I’ve been at some world championships and seen more head-scratching calls in a two-week tournament than you’re likely to see in a month of NBA games.

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Softball and baseball start soon (see how good I’m getting at fudging time and day and stuff like that?) and if you’re watching, be prepared for some odd bastardizations of the rules.

In softball, if it’s a tie after seven innings, the top of the eighth begins with the team at bat getting to put a runner (the last out of the seventh) on second base and the batting order resumes as usual. Same goes in the bottom of the eighth until someone wins.

They’ve screwed up baseball even more. If there’s a tie after nine, they play the 10^th as they usually would, then things really get goofy.

In the 11^th, each team can decide which hitter it wants up to lead off the inning and – get this! – he gets to hit with runners at first and second and nobody out.

Really.

Visiting team decides it wants to have the No. 3 hitter lead off the top of the 11^th. That’s cool because the No. 2 hitter goes to second base and the No. 3 hitter goes to first.

Then the home team could decide it wants its lead off guy to bat in the bottom so the No. 9 hitter goes to second and the No. 8 guy goes to first.

They play the 11^th and if nobody scores, the visiting team doesn’t get to pick its lead-off guy for the 12^th but they do get to put runners at first and second. Let’s say the No. 8 hitter is scheduled to lead off the 12^th. He goes to bat but the No. 7 guy goes to second and the No. 6 man heads to first.

Ridiculous?

I sure think so.

I hope the Erindale Lions Little League -- where, by the way, the MIGHTY YANKEES HAVE WON THE REGULAR SEASON TITLE EVEN, OR MAYBE BECAUSE OF, ONE OF THEIR COAHCES BEING IN CHINA -- never institutes that silly rule.

Check that, we'd never play extra innings, it always gets dark too quickly to even get in six.

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Remember the ‘driving to slow’ note from the other day. So does this alert reader:

Q: Do you think they're driving slow to cut down on the smog for the Games? Or is it just a case of a different culture?

Peter L, Toronto

A: I’m told it’s a bit of both. The buses have restrictors on them that don’t allow them to go more than 90 km-h and I know that doesn’t apply to regular drivers because on the bus ride back from Tianjin, we were being passed by every manner of car, cab, jalopy and, I think, a jogger or two.

More games than you can imagine

Now, this is starting to feel like the Olympics.

One of the big things about getting this gig is seeing different sports, talking to different people.

In the last 24 hours, got to see the women’s soccer team, the men’s water polo team and Garbo, Jose and Spain trounce Greece.

Made for a whirlwind time but it’s also what’s special about this.

Now, I don’t know good water polo from bad water polo and have to have the intricacies of soccer pointed out to me but not talking to professional athletes can be kind of refreshing.

The water polo coach, Dragan Jovanovic, sort of killed his guys after what I’m told was a horrible 16-6 loss to Spain. The women of the soccer team will stand and answer questions for as long as we care to ask them. And Garbo and Jose seemed genuinely glad to see a couple of familiar faces (The First Lady Of The Beat and I) after the game against Greece

Now, if they could just do something about those scorpions in the train stations. (I keed, I keed).

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I’m pretty sure you’d never see this in North America.

The media conducts its post-game interviews at the Olympics in these places called ‘mixed zones,’ spots just off the court or field where the players have to file by on their way to their locker room.

We’re usually separated by barriers and we stand against them, call out to the athletes as they walk by and hope they stop.

Very dignified.

Anyway, there’s always a whole bunch of cheering in the press box and mixed zones at these things, a fact I remember all too well at the natatorium yesterday morning.

When a couple of the Spanish players walked by, not only did the writers, or whatever they were, call out to them, they called them over and gave them big hugs to congratulate them.

Very professional.

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You should know that Garbo looks in as good physical condition as I think I've ever seen him. Lost some weight, too. Looks to me like he could withstand an NBA season. -

Here’s one reason to love international basketball.

Two timeouts per team per half. Only called by the bench.

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Here’s one reason to love international water polo (me being the international water polo expert and all).

Four eight-minute quarters. No timeouts. Game’s over in about an hour.

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Oh yeah, all you Raptor fans wondering whether former second-round pick Giorgos Printezis will ever be in the NBA.

Probably not soon. A DNP-CD in a 15-point loss to Spain does not bode well.

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Since we’ve got a lot of basketball today, here’s a basketball question:

Q: I know he lacks the star appeal of the other players on the team but wouldn't Jason Kapono be a perfect fit for the US Olympic team? The international game is all about 3 point shooting (a relative weakness of the US team) and, even though he's had his troubles guarding bigger quicker NBA players, I think JK could be a decent defender against international competition, especially if the US plays a zone defense instead of man to man. Add all that to the fact that he'd likely get a ton of open shots playing with guys like CP3, LeBron, Kobe, Bosh, Dwight Howard etc. and he seems like a logical choice. If the US gets beat again this year, especially by their inability to make 3 point shots, do you think we might see Kapono on the next edition of Team USA?

Serge P, Ottawa

A: Well, you know, I was going to dismiss this out of hand and then I figure, if Michael Redd’s on the team, which can’t Jason Kapono be?

And then I remembered that Jason’s not the greatest defender in the history of the game – maybe not even in the history of his family for all I know – and that may be what’s keeping him off an Olympic roster.

I heard they invited him to play for the developmental team that P.J. and Jay coached before the real team left for here and I’m told he declined. Probably had a golf game.

And I can’t imagine he’d get a sniff four years from now, he’ll be older someone else will emerge to fill that role.

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We’re sitting watching the women’s soccer game the other night and we figure it’s becoming a pretty popular team back home, right?
So why, in its infinite wisdom, did the CBC and TSN not send a soccer play-by-play guy and an analyst over here?

They got basketball guys and boxing guys and baseball guys and guys and gals for a whole raft of sports. But not soccer?

Now, I hear the CBC does a brilliant job on Olympics (I’ve been at the last five summer games so I’m going by the comments of others) but that decision was, frankly, a mistake.

Surely to goodness they could have found room for two more people.

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Yes, Jose Calderon makes that familiar three-finger sign after a three-point basket playing for Spain, too.

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For every second we’ve been here, it’s been humid and it’s felt like a thunderstorm was only seconds away.

Well, we finally got one today, a nice downpour.

Did it clear the humidity? Yeah, not bad, actually.

Guess whatever they’re doing to seed the clouds or alter the weather is working.

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Saw a couple of basketball games Sunday and nary a peep of The Chicken. They might be saving she/he/it for the playoff round.

But did get a look at the goofy little mascots, who were traipsing around the water polo venue (and you gotta love a stadium called the Yingdong Natatorium) during halftime of the Canada-Spain game.

Not sure if I’m warming to them, yet. Maybe it’ll take a while.

I can’t remember what the stuffed animals were, exactly, in Barcelona but they stick in my mind as some of the best out there.

The Oompa Loompa things in Nagano were sorta cute, too.

Aboard a slow bus to Tianjin

I’m pretty sure the China Tourist Board, or whatever it is, won’t be using the Beijing-Tianjin drive as a selling point.

Think 401 London-Windsor without the charm.

(For those of you unfamiliar with the subtle charm of southwestern Ontario, think kilometer after kilometre after kilometre of ribbon of highway dissecting fields of nothing and if you’re still awake, keep reading).

Took the bus over to Tianjin from Beijing today – didn’t want to see another scorpion-crawfish-bug-thingy at the train station – and as a cure of insomnia, it’d be perfect.

About three hours of drudgery broken only by naps. Oh, and these drivers over here? Lead foots, they’re not.

Dude didn’t get over about 80 km-h the entire way, I swear. Posted speed limit? 120.

Usually when we go to these things in new lands, we’re stunned by the audacity of the drivers (Rome and Madrid were crazed last fall) but here? They’re slooooooow.

And frustrating.

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Not sure how much, if any, women’s basketball you were able to see back there but I caught a bit of Australia-Belarus before heading out on the road Saturday morning.

Never mind the result – the Opals won in a walk – the reason to check out the game was to see Dawna Townsend officiate.

I’m not sure how big a deal it is to get the first game of the Games but I’m gonna make it big because Dawna’s a friend and deserves some props.

Can’t imagine it’s easy balancing a family with young kids, a real job and all those hours at the Air Canada Centre as the official scorer dealing with getting a starting lineup from usually Cantankerous Sam (I know. Go figure. Sam. Cantankerous).

Good on her.

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Big Raptor day tomorrow.

Jose. Bosh. Roko.

Opening day. Should be a doozy. And if Captain Byers plays along, I’m gonna get a water polo game in the morning (actually night back home, for those as confused as I am by this time thing) and then a few hours of hoops.

Will be fun to see ‘em all.

Don’t know if you’ll be able to.

I’m told the CBC crew, which did the USA women’s game here on Saturday, is doing the USA men’s game against China tomorrow but not Spain-Greece.

Too bad. Maybe some live streaming’s going to be available somewhere.

If not, guess you’ll just have to check back here to get all the inside dope.

And I’ll have it.

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Dog day afternoon.

So, we drag our tired carcasses off the bus at security here and we go through the X-ray machine while a gaggle of little soldier types give the bus the once over, checking luggage compartments, using mirrors to check under the carriage and these two dogs to sniff out whatever they sniff out.

It was the first time I’d seen dogs at venues but as long as they’re friendly and the minders aren’t carrying automatic weapons, I’m okay with it.

One of the pups gets in a luggage hold and won’t come out ‘cause it’s cool in there. Finally, in what can only be called a universal game of ‘fetch’ the soldiers roll a ball to entice them out.

The other dog?

He/she/it wasn’t at all impressed.

Dog tired, you might say.

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Where’d you watch the ceremonies? Comfort of the couch? The office?

Well, me and Perk and D. Feschuk get this great idea that we’re going out among the people, to Tiananmen Square, actually. Off we go on the subway, dum dee dum, dum dee dum, 11 stops on one line, two after a transfer and here comes the first Tiananmen stop.

And there it goes. Closed. A ghost stop.

Second one? Same deal and we’re like, ‘hmm, this doesn’t bode well (we’re smart that way).”

We get off at the next one, figure we’ll double back walking except we get turned around, go the wrong way as turns out, a fact we found out when we landed at some cool little restaurant for a quick bite.

And quick it was. It was about 7:30 local time Friday night and the lovely ladies were literally running out of the joint to get somewhere to watch ‘em We eat fast and ask one of the servers how long it’ll take to get to the square.

Almost faint when she says “60 minutes” and that’s when the cab came into play. Because our Mandarin isn’t quite up to snuff (I can do ‘ni hoa’ and that’s about it), we enlist the aid of a young server to help us hail a car and get to the square.

She’s so bound and determined to help us, she runs – runs! In like a kabillion degree heat and humidity – about a block and half to find a cab only to come back and tell us, in halting English, that the square was either closed or too full and no cab would take us there.

So we end up riding back to our village, sitting outside in a courtyard and watch the festivities.

'Til bedtime, that is.

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They sell knock off goods all over the streets here, watches, handbags, scarves, all kind of stuff.

And pizza.

The First Lady Of The Beat, Mr. Baseball from The Globe and I, with about five hours to kill before the big football tilt I’m sure you’re all glued to right now, ventured across the street to the Molson Outlet Mall (no, not that Molson, unfortunately). And what’d spy?

Pizza Hill.

Same colour scheme, pretty much the same menu as Pizza Hut. Pretty good, too.

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Mail about here:

Q: Hi Doug, I've been trying to think of a Raptors question for you but I've got nothing. I really just wanted to point out that your giant bug appears to be a crayfish. Kind of like a mini-lobster. Not sure why they have one hanging out at the train station but at least you know its not a giant scorpion.
Okay, here's a non basketball related question. What would you say now to fellow reporters who were hesitant about going to Beijing to convince them things aren't as bad as they thought, or are they?
Ron M, Markham

A: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Crawfish. Maybe. But there was no way I’d eat it if they boiled it. And it shouldn’t have been in a train station any way.

Things are great over here for us. Best media village room I’ve had in six Olympics, transportation works great, computer services are outstanding and the only venue I’ve been at, with my Glorious Canadian Women Soccer Heroes, works fine.

The people? They’re almost too helpful. Makes me sheepish to try and do anything for myself because there’s always like three of ‘em there to help.

So far, so very good. Of course, as I type this, the first full day of competition is about half over so things may change.

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That Yao Ming, what a card!

The iconic Chinese athlete’s asked the other day at a basketball practice what kind of game China would have for Sunday night’s game here against the United States

"I won’t tell you anything. That’s top secret.”

So, too, is his off-the court life. Seem Aug. 6 was Yao's first wedding anniversary (“candlesticks always make a nice gift, and uh, maybe you could find out where she's registered and maybe a place-setting or maybe a silverware pattern,” I thought) and the prying press wanted all the details.

"Can I keep that a secret?”

Okay, maybe it wasn't a scorpion, but it was ugly

Okay.

Here it is

Ta-da!

Spain

Your 2008 Olympic men’s basketball champions.

The easy pick’s the United States, right? LeBron. Kobe. Wade. Kidd. But I’m just getting this goofy vibe that when it comes right down to it, Spain’s experience – as a team and in international play – is going to carry the day.

Not sure when the Americans will lose, maybe in the semifinals like they have in each of the last two big global events, or maybe they make it to the gold medal game before falling short but fall short they will.

I know the Americans have the most talent 1-12, there’s no debating that. But I’ve seen them deconstruct in the past when the most was on the line and I can see it happening again.

They don't shoot it well enough, I don't think they're big enough and I think when things get tough, they might get selfish. I could be wrong -- although that seldom happens -- and I presume you'll all let me know when I am but if Spain does win, I are gonna be thought of as very smart.

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This oughta be a hoot.

On Sunday morning over here, I’m off to cover the first water polo game of my career and, because of those pesky time zone things, I have to write right on deadline back in North America.

Now, it might be the greatest water polo game in the history of water polo and I wouldn’t know. But I’m pretty sure my first question shouldn’t be:

"Hey, coach, how do you get the horses in the pool?”

That’s the glory of the Games, you go and cover things you know very little about and hope there’s some human interest angle that gets you through 600 words.

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Okay, maybe that scorpion-like thing was a crayfish, but it was the ugliest looking crayfish I’ve ever seen. From about four metres away, of course.

And there was no water anywhere we could see. But what do I know? I originally wondered if it was a baby gila monster.

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You know what I haven’t seen around here yet?

A submachine gun.

Usually at the Olympics, the security is oppressive and the guards at the media village, the venues and the main press centre are always soldiers carrying weapons that say, “don’t screw with us.”

I’m not naïve enough to think there aren’t guys like that lurking around the Beijing Games but so far they haven’t made their presence known. It’s sort of unsettling to have some burly dude holding a machine gun watching your every move; it’s sort of nice to see smiling volunteers greeting us at these Games.

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My Man Perk’s got a really good column going in tomorrow’s paper about the circus that was the American basketball media conference here Friday (which was Thursday back there, I think) and Lucas Our Photog has a great picture.

But I’ll give you a hint: It was a freaking circus.

Did get some time to hang with Bosh, though, who sat there and patiently answered about a zillion questions, many repeated by repeated waves of reporters.

And while a lot of big-time athletes are going to avoid the rest of the Games, he’s going to be out and about watching events..

"Yeah, track and field, boxing, swimming, all the venues. This only happens once every four years and I’ll never see it happen again in Beijing. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I don’t want to be cramped up in my room. I know that we have a goal in mind and I will make sure I keep that in mind when I’m out there having fun but I’ll get my rest and drink lots of water.”

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You know how kids in North America play basketball in the schoolyards and hockey on the streets as they hone their skills?

Over here, it’s badminton.

In about a 20-minute bus ride the other night, we saw about four places – school yards, I think – where impromptu badminton games, most without actual nets, going on.

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They do know how to take care of us here.

A colleague was leaving the media village this morning and when his bag went through the X-ray machine, a full beer can was spied by the eagle-eyed security dude.

Apparently it’s against the rules to take it out of the village (guess they want to sell you another one at the next stop) but they didn’t want to confiscate it, it being valuable and full and all.

What’d they do?

Checked it in a locker all by itself and gave my man a claim check for it.

We’re heading back there now, about 10 hours later, and figure it’ll be there and waiting.

How nice of them, eh?

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Gonna keep it a bit short today, about to rush out of the press centre to drop the computer back in the room and venture out among the people to watch the opening ceremonies.

That should be very, very cool.

Talk to you later

The things you see

As close as it gets for Doug. Photo possibly taken with zoom lens.

You see a lot of things in the first class lounges of various train stations and airports – not that I go there very often in these budget-conscious times (hi boss!). Things like famous people sometimes. Free food. The odd drink. Comfortable chairs.

And, apparently, bugs.

Big, stinking scorpion-like bugs.

That’s what greeted four of us at the Tianjin West train station the other night at the end of a looooooong women’s football day.

We’re sitting there and notice – because we’re crack observers of course – this huge thing on the counter and three young workers playing with it. It’d run a metre or so, they’d pick it up, turn it around and watch it saunter back.

Great sports, I guess.

Not entirely sure what it was, and I only got close enough to snap a picture because me and bugs have issues, but I was sort of hoping they’d bring out another so we could watch a race and maybe have a friendly wager.

Alas, we were left to transcribe tape. And sip a beer.

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Speaking of, I got a bone to pick with whoever’s in charge over here and reading this blog (I get antsy every time I write that word now).

At every Main Press Centre I’ve been in at five summer games now, there’s always been a 24-hour lounge somewhere at the MPC because we’re all working on the 24-hour clock and like to relax with a cold beverage whenever the day is done.

Well, over here at Puritanical MPC, they give last call at TWELVE FREAKING MIDNIGHT. And a couple of thirsty Team Star travelers report they couldn’t find a place to buy a beer at midnight back in our media village.

That, my friends, has to got to stop. Even in Ontario that wouldn’t happen.

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While we’re on 24-hour establishments, here’s another installment 2 of Tales From Past Games.

We’re in Athens four years ago and discover, much to our glee, a gorgeous rooftop patio overlooking the stadium and the city. Breezy, lots of nice seats, plenty of serving stations and 3 Euro a pint beer.

As I’m picking up a tray or two for the crowd, I need to ask the comely young barkeep how late the joint may be open, trying to figure out how early I’d have to get there.

She goes, confers with some supervisor ‘cause I don’t think she quite understands my English and comes back to report:

"Sir, we are open all the hours.”

You think I smiled?

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Okay, enough about booze.

Let’s get on to cigarettes.

(A note: I smoke, you shouldn’t. None of you. It’s not cool. I have to quit. I will. Don’t start).

Anyway …

We’re walking into the restaurant the other night and I, because I’m a good Canadian trained in non-smoking, butt out just as we get to the door.

A local with some knowledge of the place looks at me like I’ve got three heads and says, “Don’t worry, you can smoke in restaurants here. I think you can smoke in hospitals if you want.”

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Okay, really, enough about booze and smoking.

Let’s get on to athletics. Sports. You know, games.

Of course, I’m the only one from Team Star who’s seen a game – the glorious 2-1 football win over the dastardly Argentines – and I gotta say, I admire the women.

It was stinking hot and stinking humid in Tianjin, and even hazier than it is in Beijing usually, and while it was a perfect opportunity to complain about the conditions, no one did.

No one worried that it would affect performance – that will become the excuse du jour, I’m sure – because, frankly, it’s hot and sticky pretty much everywhere in August. You deal with it.

"Obviously it’s a little bit of an adjustment, your shirt weighs about 10 pounds at the end of the game but everybody has to play in it,” said Christine Sinclair.

Quite refreshing, that attitude is.

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Remember way back in day when I said we should have some legit nicknames for our international teams?

Well, the Chinese women’s soccer team are the Steel Roses. That might be one of the best ones out there.

Us? We’re Team Canada. Yawn.

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This is quasi-Games related mail:

Q: I was watching a bit of the U.S./Aussie pre-Olympic warmup and I noticed Nathan Jawai (a.k.a. Aussie Shaq) wasn't on the team. Why do you think he isn't, I don't know much about the Aussie's except Bogut, but I figured with all the pre-draft hype he'd be there, any reasons why not? Also, I caught an interview with Aussie Shaq and he said that the NBL was probably better than U.S. college ball. Comparing the number of guys in the NBA from U.S. college vs. NBL I would think that would be a tough arguement. Your thoughts?

Mark P, Ajax

A: I think that’s a little bit of patriotic hyperbole but the fact is, the pro leagues around the world are men, rather than college teens so the basketball IQ might be a bit better.

And the Aussie team, which gave the Yanks a bit of scare in that game ‘cause all they got were open three-pointers, are one of the most veteran teams here, it’s no surprise that a kid who’s played one year of professional basketball didn’t make the squad.

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I don’t know if this signals anything, it probably doesn’t, but there will be four basketball players carrying flags in Friday’s opening ceremonies.

Yao Ming gets the gig for China, Andrei Kirilenko does the honours for Russia, Dirk Nowitzki handles the deal for Germany and Manu Ginobili does it for Argentina.

Guess that takes Yao out of the Who Lights The Torch lottery. Better tell Perk so we can revise the wager.

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So, it’s night over here and the work is pretty much done (it’s fun, some days, to cover Games with games) and there’s this reception thingy at Canada Olympic House. I believe they will feed and water us and that should give lots of fodder for this space tomorrow

Ah, the joys of travel

These are Olympic moments.

The media relations maven known only as The Czarina, crack COC photog Mike and yours truly arrive in Tianjin, grab a cab and have no freaking way of letting the guy know where we were going.

After much gesticulating, including Mike getting out of the car and pretending to kick a football and The Czarina trying to draw a soccer ball on a piece of scrap paper (and she’s no artist, as it turns out), we decided to call back to Beijing, find a Chinese-speaking member of the COC staff and let her tell the cabbie where we wanted to go.

Not sure what she said but there was lots of ‘ho, ho, ho’ from our jolly driver, who got us here in no time flat and who was astonished to get a 5 Yuan tip at the end of the journey.

Much thanks, many smiles and I have no idea what the guy said but we are now, I believe, bestest of friends.

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Here’s one for the GO Train people. And VIA Rail, too.

A gaggle of us took the bullet train down to Tianjin from Beijing, a distance of something like 120 kilometres or such. The speedometer in our car topped out at 343 kilometres an hour, which, my friends, is travelling.

Made the journey in 32 minutes, which was far better than the two- or three-hour bus ride we could have taken.

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I don’t know what it is about the Spanish but their top athletes don’t ever big-time anyone, it seems.

Remember Raffa Nadal the other day? Marching himself through the airport throngs with a beat grunt following the crowd?

Well, flipping through the TV dial, I come across what I like to call The Airport Arrival Channel and there’s Pau Gasol doing the same thing, pushing a cart with some of his luggage, inundated by cameras and autograph seekers and the like.

I can pretty much assure you a lot of other NBA stars – hello, USA! – won’t quite do the same thing.

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The trip to Tianjin began at the nicest train station I’ve ever seen: Beijing South. Palm trees in the lobby, a grand piano right over there and a place that’ll sell you a cocktail for 5 Yuan. Yeah, they do do some things right over here.

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In what might be a shocking development to some, I enjoy a good dinner and thanks to our Beijing expert B. Schiller, I’ve now had one to remember.

He and Lovely Lili The Minder set up Team Star at a local place the other night and it’s got to be in the top 10 road meals all time. Not entirely sure what we had but the fish was spectacular, the lamb outstanding and another course of duck makes me want to be a duck guy all the time.

Toss in the revelry of a table for 13 and it’s one of the good nights.

The restaurant – name – was formerly a palace, we were told, it stretched forever from the street through a hutong and then with two more rooms.

And every time I think I’ve got a questionable job, or you think you do, I’ll remind you about the guy we saw cooking the duck over an open flame in what had to be about a billion degree heat. Aside from working in, oh, maybe a dry cleaners, that has to be the ickiest job I can imagine. Duck was damn good, though. Way better than the main press centre.

But there aren’t too many nights when you can get out for a good meal at things like that, work tends to get in the way, and an evening before it all begins to get you rested is a welcome event.

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All along, we’ve been hearing about the small city of Tianjin we were going to for this game.

Hmm, it’s like more than seven million people.

Guess small’s all relative over here.

But you gotta see this stadium. Seats 60,000, looks like it was built yesterday, is surrounded by a creek or a moat or something like that and is very, very neat.

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Sort of Olympic-related mail:

Q: While in Beijing will you have time to hoist a few or 'get some fresh air' with the other columnists from the home paper? I can imagine that you and Rosie could have some pretty interesting conversations on a variety of topics.

Anyway, have fun and learn lots. We await your insights.

Richard Y, Kincardine

A: Hell, yeah, we hang out. I’ve had several great conversations over fresh air and cocktails with Rosie over the six Games I’ve been at now and hanging in the courtyard outside the condo with Perk to end a night with a Tsing Tao and a cigar is to live like you’ve never lived before.

Topics? Often what we did that day and what we’re doing tomorrow. But sometimes we stray and – don’t tell anyone, okay? – bust on our bosses and jobs.

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I’m pretty sure a whole bunch of Team Star teammates are a bit jealous. The days leading up to something like an Olympics can be mind-numbingly unexciting, with access to athletes limited, no games to cover or such.

Me? I got the very first thing of the Beijing Olympics at the women’s football today. Sweet.

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Hey, I’m going to toss this out for all your Raptor fans who are lost and reading this hoping for some news.

The NBA sked’s coming out today and all I’ve got are a couple of nuggets.

They open in Philadelphia (if it’s on The Score do you think Leo interviews Sam Dalembert?) and the only home game I know of for sure right now is New Year’s Eve against Denver.

But stay tuned, when or if I get a chance during the day, I’ll scribble a little bit here to let you know what’s up.

Good morning, or good evening (depending if you're there or here)

Pretty slow day around here. Everyone’s gearing up for Friday – and for some reason the Canadian Olympic Committee has scheduled about a billion news conferences for Thursday instead of stretching them out – so we’re a little lacking in actual, you know, sports stuff.

So we’ll wend our way through the media village, the press centre and a few sights and sounds to get us through until tomorrow, when things actually happen, like my women’s football team kicking off these infernal Games.

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How slow was it?

Well, Perk and I are sitting in the press centre trying to figure out what to write and our attention is drawn to the TV set right by us. It’s showing – get this – classic table tennis.

How do we know it’s classic? We figured it out ‘cause the athletes were wearing old NBA-style short-shorts. That and the Atlanta ’96 banners gave it away.

Anyway, we get to watching the men’s doubles final China against China – and, as we’re wont to do, there’s perhaps some handicapping going on. I got the dudes in the purple and Perk’s got the pair in the white and let’s just say I think I owe him a Tsing Tao.

The things we do to pass the time.

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Things you won’t see at home:

A guard, solitary, at rigid attention, guarding what looked to be no more than a footpath going nowhere at the media village. And a guy standing guarding a fire truck. Of course, I was once party to a group of grunts at the

Sydney

village that tried to free some kangaroos from their enclosure – a little move that was aborted when we found out the fence was electrified – so maybe someone might want to boost a fire truck now that I think of it.

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Everyone seems to be in the mood to predict Canadian medals at these things. I see Sports Illustrated had us for 14, the COC won’t say but wants a top 16-finish which would have been 17 medals four years ago in Athens and the talk around my water cooler had it at about 14, maybe less.

My guess (and that’s just what it is)? Let’s say 13. And one of my teams will bring one home.

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Let’s toss in a basketball mailbag question, okay?

Q: Hey Doug, as someone who isn't too familiar with international basketball, would you be able to educate me on the main differences between the NBA and the Euroleague as far as recruiting new talent goes? Specifically, I'm wondering if there's an Euro-equivalent to NCAA college basketball? i.e. where's the pool of talent from which they recruit/draft new players?
Thanks for keeping this blog rolling along through the summer months, and I hope you have a safe and fun trip.

Terence G, Mississauga

A: European teams operate, generally, as “clubs.” That is, they start grooming kids as young as “mini-basket” age, like six or seven and then run them up through minors and cadets and juniors and the like. That’s one of the main ways the clubs develop their talent – and they can “sell” or loan a player to another team.

And, as we’ve seen the past few weeks, teams aren’t above simply going out anywhere in the world and signing who they like.

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There was scant little basketball news here yesterday (or I guess it’s actually today since I’m going to post this around 7 p.m. my time).

Am told Spain may practice here tomorrow but there's also a chance they'll take a day off so not sure when we'll really get down to basketball nitty-gritty.

Scanning the reports from the basketball venue and it was a very, very quiet day.

I probably need a day or two to handicap this field (the men’s tournament doesn’t start until Sunday my time, or Saturday night back home) but there’s an early feeling coursing through me that says Spain’s gotta get some serious consideration.

The Americans are getting into town Wednesday, I believe, and will have their big news conference here on Thursday afternoon my time, Thursday morning back at my home.

Hope we get a question like the one posed to, I believe it was, Karl Malone back in Barcelona

Questioner (not verbatim): “Mr. Malone, why is in your sport that some times a basket is one point, sometimes it is two and sometimes it is three?”

Malone (a tad perplexed): “That’s just the way it is, my man.”

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Now I don’t eat a lot of Peking Duck (I guess it’s just called ‘duck’ here; after all, as Perk points out, they wouldn’t call it Chinese food, they’d just call it food, right?), and I certainly don’t have it often for lunch and I’ve never had it in a cafeteria setting but if they keep selling us food like that in the press centre as they did Tuesday, this is going to be culinary delight.

Duck, noodles, a nifty beef and onions dish was a pretty good lunch.

But a glance over to the McDonald’s kiosk sees a lineup of about 50 people clamoring for a Big Mac.

Some folks just don’t get it.

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Hope you all get to read this. Because I can’t.

Seems the local organizers, perhaps fearing I’d have something important to say, have blocked internet access for us to our own blogs. There’s a way to beat their system, but my machine blows up every time I try to use it, so I file and hope you all enjoy it.

A little censorship. Odd, though it is.

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I have no clue who Canadian archer Jay Lyon is but the dude’s all right.

On the flash quote computer system here – organizers send volunteers out to get snippets of news and then post ‘em on the in-house machines so we can all get at ‘em (and you thought every note was originally reported? Silly you).

Anyway, Lyonis asked about his fitness and, if the system is to believed, he says:

"I’m not much of an athlete. I eat a lot of McDonald’s. I’m probably overweight for an athlete.”

How can you not like the guy?

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Village living? Not bad. I got the big room in the three-bedroom condo, the one with the en suite bath much to the chagrin of Starkers and Perk. And I click on the TV before calling it a night last night, flip around the dial and what do you find? The Sopranos. A language-sanitized HBO version but, still.

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Anyway, it’s almost night here and Team Star is soon to venture out en mass to a local neighbourhood for dinner. This might be wildly entertaining.

Be back tomorrow with a full report and, I hope, some sports to talk about.

A boy checks in from Beijing

I have no idea what time it is there, I don’t really have any idea what time it is here, as a matter of fact. But I do know Captain Byers has the filing system worked out like a champ, My Boy Starkman had Tsing Tao in the fridge of the condo unit and Perk got in no problem so the Three Mouseketeers are settled in the home.

So a fine Ni Hao to you.

Wildly uneventful trip over, a mere 13 hours in the air and a few minutes to get through the festivities at the Beijing Airport. I can report that The Bank Job’s the best contemporary movie available on Air Canada flights, Leatherheads is very, very hokey and 88 Minutes is a pretty good Al Pacino vehicle.

And if you’re taking that flight and have to sit in steerage, 18B’s the seat to have.

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Oh, right, the Games. They start Friday, unless you’re a women’s soccer beat grunt because then you have to wend your way to Tianjin tomorrow (or maybe the day after, or maybe today, depending on where you’re reading this) and I’m hearing the best way to get there is by train.

That should be an adventure in travel.

Also heard Amber Adams, who had suffered a serious knee injury months ago and was the hardest roster decision coach Evan Pellerud had to make (or so he told us on a conference call to announce the team) is hurt again and won’t be able to play.

How much does that suck? And how impressed are you that I’ve got up-to-the-minute women’s football news?

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So, the airport. Gorgeous. Puts Pearson to shame, in the way it’s designed and the way it operates.

No dopes running lines who don’t know how to run lines, huge luggage carousels, easy signage, the whole shooting match.

GTAA folks gotta get over here and get some pointers.

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Speaking of the airport, one of the first familiar faces was a hoops beat grunt from Chicago who somehow finagled his way into an upgrade on the flight over and boasted for minutes how he was sitting in the same cabin on the flight as Rafael Nadal and if there’s ever a mismatch, it’s a sportswriter and Raffa.

Of course, I had to one-up my boy. He may have sat in the same luxury as Nadal on the way over, but I got to follow him out of the airport and you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen a couple dozen crazed reporters and 50 or so fans trying to get interviews and autographs in a moving line.

Was all well and good until the guy who raced down the up escalator to get a picture of Nadal fell down amid the crush. I’m sure he got stepped on and trounced, I was headed for some fresh air.

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Right, air. Well, aside from feeling like the world’s biggest thunderstorm is going to hit in about six seconds, and aside from the fact you can maybe see a kilometre, the air’s just fine, thank you very much.

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Now, here’s some news! The Chicken’s here! Yup, your Chicken. The Chicken. Spreading her/its/his own unique brand of entertainment at the Olympic basketball tournament as part of the NBA’s globalization initiative – I’m pretty sure the Chinese basketball league has never seen anything quite like an NBA mascot – the Raptors are going to be represented by more than Bosh, Roko and Jose in the next couple of weeks.

I have no idea if I’ll get to see much of him, but I sure hope so.

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Okay, let’s say we’re sitting around and someone says, ‘Hey, Doug, what was the first Olympics you did? Got any good stories?’

Whoo, boy, do I. Sit down, kids, for Installment No. 1 of Tales From Past Games.

Barcelona, ’92. Day 1, Boy Reporter of The People’s Wire Service, who wanted to do a little boxing and some basketball, gets assigned to do shooting ‘cause you never know when some Canadian might win some medal in some shooting discipline nobody really knows anything about.

Grumbling, ‘cause I’m missing the fights with a handful of Canuck colleagues, I ride a bus to, like, France, to watch some guy whose name I’ve long forgotten finish about 36th. Story yields a line of agate, at best, in the What Canada Did segment in the back of your section.

I amble back on some empty bus, hit the lounge to meet the Canucks only to find out that while I was watching that nameless dude finish 36th or something – and it might not have been that good – three other Canadians at the boxing had been talking to Nelson Mandela.

Yup. That Nelson Mandela. ’92 was South Africa’s return to the Olympics, Mandela had been a boxer in his youth and was out watching one of his athletes compete.

Me? Never covered shooting since.

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Oh, look, an Olympics-related mailbag query:

Q: Hey Doug, is Giorgos Printezis playing for Greece in the Olympics? Is he playing a big role? Do we still have his rights?
Andrew R, Toronto

A: Nope, he’s not here, I presume he’s back in Greece watching, maybe cheering. So his role is non-existent and, yes, Toronto still holds his rights but, no, he won’t be at training camp. He’s at least a year, maybe more, away from even being considered

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I’ll tell ya, this press centre is all right. Huge. Lots of space to work, banks and restaurants and bars and places to hang out. I’m sure the good folks of China will be paying for these extravagances forever but, frankly, I don’t care.

The volunteers can’t do enough to help you – I had like three guys fighting over who’d help me push a cart of bags to my room – and if things keep going like this, this is going to rival the best Games I’ve been at.

Of course, I could just be loopy, it seems like I’ve been up for more than 24 hours – wait, I have been up for more than 24 hours – and I’ve still got a women’s soccer advance to write.

That’s the fun part about being over here, deadlines. Women’s soccer game is Wednesday night here, Wednesday early morning there and the story setting it up has to be in Tuesday’s paper because by the time people read Wednesday’s paper, they will have already played.

If I can keep that all straight without my head blowing off, I’ll have had a successful games. Now, though, it’s off to find some food, perchance a cocktail and do some more writing. Be back in the ‘morrow.