2020 for the win?

Nothing like the last day of 2020 to post for the first time to this blog in over a year, and what a year it's been.

A year ago, my niece was playing in her Freshman-of-the-Year first college basketball season at Cal State LA. My brother and nephew were in town for the Rose Bowl, the Oregon Duck women's hoops team were the best around, and we were in the middle of another wait-til-next-year Dodger off-season. 

Oregon wins in a crowded stadium from before-times. 

On New Year's Day we witnessed the Ducks win in Pasadena and then went home to wait for a little March Madness. 

But my first COVID-related sports decision was to run the LA marathon on March 8. If it had been held a week later, it might have been cancelled. I'd been watching the news carefully and had read about patient zero in Italy who had run the marathon. Still, community spread didn't seem to be occurring in the US yet, so I ran the marathon and did my best to stay six feet away from everyone (not an easy thing to do).

The week after the marathon, I was watching/not-really-watching the Jazz-Thunder pregame when it was cancelled. I met my friend for our standing Wednesday-night writing date and measured the distance between tables in my mind. No one wore masks, but as we ate some of our favorite dishes (those green beans, that yellowtail!) and knew it might be our last night eating out for a while. We had no idea how long. 

I was still teaching, trying to prepare for what seemed an inevitable cancellation of school for a while, and then March Madness was cancelled. I mourned the greatness that might have been for the Oregon women, for Sabrina, for Satou, for Ruthie.

And for four months across March, April, May, and June, we lived without sports. We would have loved watching the French Open and college basketball, but instead we watched Tiger King, the entire Star Wars series, Gentified, The Great British Bake Show, Grace and Frankie, POSE, and much more. We missed sports. 

But then, slowly, sports started to figure things out. The NBA came back. The MLB came back. Tennis came back. We watched from home as cardboard fans filled stands and teams both figured it out and failed to figure it out. 

Our school year started back up and we learned from professional sports that reopening with any sort of safety required much larger budgets than what our public school districts could provide. We taught and learned from home, and thankfully we had sports to provide some relief. 

And then athletes across the world of sports took stands for racial justice. Four years after Kaep took a knee, athletes made demands, cancelled games, and refused to shut up and play. 

The Dodgers win!

In August, the Lakers beat the Trailblazers to start the playoffs. In September, the Lakers continued to win, culminating with an NBA title (yay for Gantt), and the Dodgers clinched the division, won the Wild Card and then swept the Padres. 

October was long, and there was that game seven against Atlanta before the Dodgers fought their way back to the World Series. I've been a Dodger fan my entire life, but as long as I've lived in LA, I've never seen a World Championship from the Dodgers. This year, in 2020, in six games against Tampa Bay, the Dodgers finally won it all. 

As college football sputtered to a start, outbreaks occurred all over the country. BCS conferences showed just how much they care about TV contracts and ticket sales and how little they care about public safety. What were they thinking? 

We watched an LA season of Hard Knocks as players and teams dealt with COVID and social justice issues. Despite all that is wrong with the NFL and the performative actions they continue to take, I ended up pulling for both the Rams and the Chargers. 

The Ducks victory in the Rose Bowl, feeling great running the marathon, and being up 4-3 on Gantt in our one-on-one backyard basketball series, are all worthy of note, but the Dodgers winning the World Series is the sports highlight of 2020. Hands down. 

Now, go wash your hands, wear a mask, and stay home so we can get back to sports in 2021. 

Sidelined: A Peripheral View of the College Recruiting Process

part 3

Young athletes and their families, coaches and recruiters, and whistles and cheers from one of ten different courts. Young women exhibit speed and strength and skill on every court. Teams from SoCal like Cal Sparks, Cal Stars, Cal Storm, Cal Swish, but also teams from Arizona, Oregon, and Washington. So much talent. So much to take in.

We were there to watch Nicole. She was playing for a new club team, or an old club team, revived by Coach Lindsay Strothers whom had been the coach at Westview when Jamie Nared was there. Even though Coach Strothers left Westview, he continued to work with Nicole since middle school. Now, with Nicole recovered from her torn Patella, she was showing hustle on both sides of the ball. She looked good on the court, but amongst the masses? With all of these girls and all of these schools and all of these coaches? She knew she wanted to play college, so we were just there, back on the sidelines, waiting to see where she would land.

Schools from the East Coast had shown interest in Nicole, so that summer she visited schools in Boston and New York, but she came home certain she wanted to stay on the West Coast. Offers came in from University of Portland and Eastern Washington, but Nicole held on to Pac 12 dreams and was considering walking on at Washington. She wanted to wait; we waited with her.

Going into her senior season, Nicole's best friend, the girl she'd grown up playing hoops with, the girl who carried the team while Nicole was injured, blew out her knee. This season-ending knee injury changed the trajectory of Nicole's senior year considerably. She still played hard, had coaches looking and a few visits and offers coming in, but without Kam, the likelihood of a playoff run diminished.

The season was coming to an end, and Vermont came to watch a playoff game. Tulsa came to visit. They had posters and fancy DI offers to make. So, as her senior season came to a close, Nicole scheduled official visits. She went to Vermont and Tulsa, and she came to LA. She stayed with us as she visited Cal State Northridge and Cal State LA, Cal Baptist and Cal State Bakersfield. And then she started to lean.

It wasn't about PAC 12, or DI, or a poster of her in a big arena. It wasn't about east or west coast or Nike or Adidas.  What it came down to was a coach and a place. Nicole didn't just have a 4.1 GPA. Nicole was smart. She liked one coach, one program in particular, and felt this was the right fit. She went on her official visit, and then, just as if it was the easiest decision she'd ever made, she committed to Cal State Los Angeles.

Aaaaaahhhhhh!!! Yes! My niece is coming to LA, and our family is thrilled. Coach Tornio at Cal State LA coached former students of mine at Palisades High, and on Nicole's visit, Skai Thompson, who played for Emerson and Pali City Championship teams, looked on. Cal State LA felt like family, and Nicole found her home.

So, that is how Nicole's recruiting ends and where her college journey begins. As she graduates from high school, we are proud of this Golden Eagle ready to take flight!

Sidelined: A Peripheral View of the College Recruiting Process

Part 2

My sister in her high school days. 

The fall of Nicole's junior year, she came down to LA for a visit, as she usually did around her birthday. One morning, she came with me to workout in my school's gym. My students watched her shoot as I rebounded. She shot, worked on dribbling, step-backs, and shooting from range. My students watched as she put in work, just like she did on so many mornings before school when she was at home.

Nicole was excited going into her junior year of high school. She had played well under the new head coach her high school hired and had shot well that summer with her club team despite limited minutes.

But it was starting to get hard in terms of recruiting. Girls in her class were getting looks from D1 schools. She dreamed of going PAC 12, but she wasn't getting any taller, and she wasn't putting up consistent numbers on her high school or club teams. She was drawing the attention from some schools after hot shooting at the Boo Williams showcase, but playing in front of coaches and recruiters means schools see you; it doesn't mean offers come, and Nicole was still holding onto PAC 12 dreams.

Nicole: sidelined. 

This was the point when I actually first started writing this blog. I hoped to write, in real-time, about my niece's recruitment journey, but then, she finally had an MRI on a knee that had been diagnosed as patella tendonitis years before. The results shocked us all. Nicole had been playing on a partially torn Patella tendon. Doctors said it wouldn't get better unless she stayed off of it, or possibly after surgery. This season-ending diagnosis hurt, not just because Nicole wouldn't get to show what she could do that season, but it was reminiscent of my sister's high school journey.

Western Oregon NAIA Champs!

When I was in middle school, my sister was a dominant high school athlete. Like Nicole, she made the varsity basketball team as a freshman, but she also played volleyball and track. Until she developed a stress fracture in her foot. That stress fracture benched my sister during her crucial junior year too, and kept her from playing volleyball or running track. She was forced to the sideline. In that time, she dreamed of moving to Portland for her senior season, so she could get more exposure than our small town provided, but, she stayed home, had a decent senior season, and made her way to Western Oregon to play basketball and win an NAIA Championship.

But my sister had bigger hopes for Nicole. And despite the injury, Nicole couldn't wait to get back on the court. We were all waiting, but now we were all sidelined and left hoping this injury wouldn't mean the end of Nicole's college-playing dreams.

Westview seniors see off Nicole on senior night. 

Sidelined: A Peripheral View of the College Recruiting Process

Small-kid Nicole on the great wall. 

Part 1:

My niece is a basketball player. She's a really good basketball player. We (her mom and I) didn't think she would fall in love with hoops, but when she moved back to Portland, Oregon after three years living in China, she found comraderie on the court.

Those first few middle school seasons were rough. We watched and wondered if she would stick with it. My husband and I cheered maybe a little too enthusiastically back then, yelled at a few officials, screamed a little too voraciously, but eventually we put ourselves more appropriately in check. We realized this was Nicole's journey; we were sidelined.

Over time, Nicole also started putting things in check. She developed solid skills: a beautiful three-point shot, solid handles, a step-back jumper, a Euro-step, and she had tons of support. Her mom played college hoops and wanted to provide all that Nicole wanted in order to meet her goals. But skills and support can't make you love basketball.

Nicole and Jamie, back in Jamie's high school days. 

Before she started high school, she made her way through the Westview development program, and she followed the Westview varsity team faithfully. She became friends with players and found role models who showed her what going-to-college-to-play-ball looked like. Jamie Nared, a senior when Nicole was in the seventh grade, went to play at Tennessee. Watching this top recruit, Nicole was able to see what hard work on the basketball court looked like and some of the rewards it could bring.

I watched all of this from a distance, as Nicole joined club teams and played under new coaching staffs. She made varsity as a ninth grader, and I heard updates from Nicole and my sister about how her team was doing and how Nicole was playing. Toward the end of the season, she started getting more minutes, but it wasn't until her sophomore season that she started putting up impressive numbers. She also kept looking up, now at college programs and players she admired, most notably Oregon State, where she watched and developed friendships with dominant guards like Sydney Wiese.

Nicole and the PAC-12 three-point record holder.  

The summer after her freshman year, she came to Southern California where my family could finally watch her play. Her new club team had some amazing athletes, one being Bendu Yeaney, who ended up at Indiana. Nicole played alongside Bendu and other great players. She watched and learned, but also during this time, Nicole stopped growing. There was some height on her dad's side of the family, so we hoped, but Nicole plateaued at about 5' 7". We knew this meant that if Nicole wanted to play at the next level, she would have to stand out in other ways. And then, during her junior year, when recruiting was just starting to heat up, something shifted.

Nicole and Indy-bound Bendu. 

My First Marathon: From the Stadium to the Sea with SRLA

My goal for the year was to run my first marathon with my middle school's Students Run LA team. Ever since I heard about this program, I knew the only way I would ever run a marathon was if I was training with kids. So, when our school got the grant to start a team this year, I was off and running.

All summer I worked to trim time off my 5K and 10K paces. But in January, just as the runs started getting longer, and after a brutal cold/flu hit the Nakada-Gantt household, my speed started to taper and I plateaued.

This, along with longer distances, probably contributed to the development of hip pain that started out as post-run soreness, but quickly became an injury I worried would keep me from running/finishing my first attempt at 26.2 miles.

I rested for the last couple of weeks before the race, and my massage-therapist-sister worked on my IT band, quad and knee, on the days leading up to the big day, so I felt like I could make a go of it.

With these kids pushing me, and David leading the way, I started running away from Dodger Stadium. At first, I didn't feel too bad. As we made our way out of downtown, however, I started to look forward to those downhill stretches a little too much.

By Hollywood, I was in considerable pain with each step and suffered through each mile even as I tried to enjoy it. Seeing friends and family along the route definitely helped propel me down the road and the spirit of our diverse city reminded me that I love LA! Mile 21, though? Yeah, that whole mile sucked.

But I finished. I ran slower than I wanted, (my goal was 4:20, which was the time it took Kathrine Switzer when she was the first woman to run Boston 50 years ago) and this pace definitely took a toll on my body. But with my Students Run LA team chasing me, I had to keep going.

At 5:10, I crossed the finish line, and I clearly need to learn to run more efficiently, because my running app clocked me at over 27 miles! 

I think our SRLA team is all going to run it again next year, so here's to running faster. Maybe next year I will make that time goal.

Thanks for all of the support through this long grind: family, friends, and everyone who came out to the race to support. But mostly, thanks to SRLA. This organization is changing lives. If you are looking for a great non-profit to support, head over to Students Run LA and consider a donation. Maybe you'll help some lucky kid find a coach like Mr. Tarula who will inspire you with a mid-marathon speech about marathon running as an allegory for life.

Throwing Cookies in 2017

Coming...

I only posted here three times this year, but that was more than I've posted in the past three years, so that's something.

Unfathomably, the blog which has received and continues to receive the most clicks is "How to Heal an Achilles Tendon" from 2013. Somehow over 500,000 people have visited that post.

This year's posts have averaged about 200 visits each with my post about Sloane Stevens' US Championship topping the list. Then, there was my post about Colin Kaepernick taking a knee, followed by my post about marathon training.

going...

I didn't write about the Dodgers making it to the World Series. Their loss to the Astros broke my heart, and reminded me how hard it is to have a horse in the race. It's exciting, but exhausting. Still love my boys in blue, and like every off-season, there is the optimism of waiting until next year.

I've continued to boycott the NFL, and listened with pride as a student-athlete of mine wrote about taking a knee for a speech and debate tournament. Her original oratory took home first place, and hopefully inspired others to reflect on the promises and failures of our nation.

Sloane is sidelined again with a knee injury, but she posts adorable photos of her and boyfriend/soccer star: Jozy Altidore.

And I'm still training and trying to get faster. I posted my best 10K time this past week and am feeling pretty healthy post-holiday (we'll see how I feel after Cabo next week). I'm looking forward to March and running my first LA Marathon with our Students Run LA team.

SRLA Team Emerson! 

And that's about it. Oregon football struggled, but Oregon hoops on both the men's and women's sides looks promising, so I still say, go Ducks.

I also recently learned about Left Wing Fútbol which may change my entire life and perspective on competition. Their unofficial motto is: We change the way we play to change the world, but that can wait for a future blog post. Oh, and following my niece Nicole's basketball career (she's a junior this year) is something I plan to write about in the next year. We will all have to wait to see where she decides to take her talents for college.

NFL 2017 Season: Taking a Knee and Taking a Stand

I was in the middle of my junior year basketball season when Operation Desert Storm began. It was then, as I stood for the National Anthem as a player, followed by "Proud to Be an American" (a song many of opponents played before games to show support of the troops) that I considered turning my back or sitting down before the game. My parents probably would have supported me, and some of my teammates. I know I would have met hostility from the crowd (if they even noticed my protest) but for several weeks, during every playing, by a band or something prerecorded, I stood there, wishing I was more brave, expecting more of myself. I didn't sing along or salute during this time when I disagreed whole-heartendly with our country's military action, but I didn't take a knee. I stood at attention.

I haven't been watching the NFL this season. I was inspired by this Cowboys fan who isn't watching until Colin Kaepernick has a job.



Some of you might think boycotting the NFL is no big deal. Maybe you don't watch it, or maybe you turned your back on the league long ago. That would be understandable, but until this season, I still watched. In our home, the NFL is tuned to the Red Zone every Sunday, and it's Sunday Night, Monday Night, and Thursday Night Football. But with Kap out of a job, and the league still not taking care of its aging players, (this ESPN article captures the realities NFL families face in retirement) it felt good to take a stand this season, to say, "No, I can't watch this game knowing that the league's owners and management care so little for its players."

And then Trump decided to put his two-cents in during a campaign speech.

Not only does he call protester's mother's bitches, not only does he call for them to be fired, but he also shows no regard for the health of these athletes. They are expendable. They are not worthy of constitutional rights or protection from bodily harm.

So, this week, what is it, week 3? I still didn't watch, but I am proud of all of the players who #StandwithKap and #TakeAKneeNFL because police brutality in America must be addressed. Our country needs to do better. It isn't about the flag. It isn't about the military. This is about a country that is denying life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to Black Americans, and if you boo people exercising their right to protest, if you don't understand why this is important, you haven't made an honest effort to consider what it is like to be Black in America. They are taking an enormous risk, and knowing how I struggled to take a tiny one as a high school athlete, I doubt they are taking this lightly. Just listen to Dolphin's Safety Michael Thomas.

#Dolphins safety Michael Thomas explains why he took Donald Trump's remarks personally https://t.co/xjPwYmqSdz

— Omar Kelly (@OmarKelly) September 24, 2017

Running for Time

My fitness goals last year were to shed the last few pounds of baby-weight from Gabe, and to improve my speed and strength. I wanted to try to do this while writing and reading more, working full-time, and parenting. So, this meant running 2-3 days a week (some days pushing the double-wide stroller) and playing while coaching at work.

Thankfully, Mr. Tarula joined our Sports Academy last year, and he started a running club. We trained a couple of days a week and ran a 10K in Santa Monica this past December. This helped me get more runs in and get my pace down to 9 minute miles.

This year, Mr. Tarula wrote and obtained a Students Run LA grant. This amazing non-profit helps middle and high school students prepare for and run the LA Marathon. Yep, you know what that means: I will be training for my first marathon with a bunch of middle schoolers, and on March 18, I will run 26.2 miles. So, I've been running, trying to get down to an efficient running pace, so that I can complete the marathon this year in 4 hours, 19 minutes (that's just ahead of the time Katherine Switzer, first woman to run the Boston Marathon fifty years ago.)

I've got six more months to train and a team of middle schoolers to help get me there. Strength training and yoga will hopefully help me avoid injury and make me faster and stronger. I'll let you know how this aging athlete, Achilles-repaired late-to-running runner does. Wish us all luck!

U.S. Open Champion Sloane Stevens

A teenage-Sloane in 2010. 

During the summer of 2010, I had the chance to go to Wimbledon. It was my first visit to a Grand Slam event, and although I didn't have a ticket to see Serena in her semi-final match, I did have the chance to catch an upcoming American on one of the outside courts.

Sloane Stephens lost in three sets that day, but I've been following her career ever since. It also helped that I met her mom and taught her brother who attended my middle school several years ago. Her brother has a big personality, and I got to coach him in baseball, teach him English, and help him plan for the future in our Emerson Sports Academy. 

That spring, in 2011, Sloane climbed the ranks and qualified for the main draws at the French Open, Wimbledon, and the U.S. Open. So, when I saw her outside of my school on a spring afternoon, I congratulated her on her success. She smiled and was kind, and I continued to be a fan. I watched her beat Serena at the Australian in 2013, and hoped that would be the moment when Sloane would break into the top 10 to stay. But Sloane was inconsistent and struggled with injuries. 

Photo by Elsa/Getty Images.

Her brother came back to visit a couple years ago, as he was graduation from high school and heading off to college. He wrote me a note using the Cornell Notes we'd forced them to do in Sports Academy. It was one of those wonderful moments in teaching when you get to see phenomenal growth in a young person.

So, this afternoon, after 11 months away from the game, I cried watching Sloane climb into the stands to hug her coach and mom after winning her first Grand Slam title. Her journey has brought her maturity and positivity on the court that she was missing earlier in her career. It was wonderful to see such phenomenal growth in Sloane. I hope this is the first of many victories for her. As always, I'll be pulling for her!

Happy National Championship Game Day!

A year ago, I was so stressed out about our Ducks being in the National Title game. The victory over Florida State in the Rose Bowl was awesome, but then there was that long wait for a match-up against Ohio State. There were suspensions and endless commentary and then the game itself got out of hand early.

It was no fun. I'm sure if we'd won I'd be nostalgic about the whole thing. But we lost. So, this bowl season I really didn't care all that much. Even after that oh-so-painful, triple-overtime, Alamo Bowl loss, I was like, "Meh. It's just the Alamo Bowl." It might have actually been harder if Vernon Adams hadn't gotten hurt, if we had continued to roll making me wonder, what if Adams had been healthy all season? Could we have made the playoffs with just a loss against Michigan State? But Adams got hurt, and Oregon's second string drop off is Grand-Canyon-Lethal.

So, tonight I'll sit back and watch Clemson and Alabama after getting the kids to bed. I'll root against the SEC and enjoy the spectacle. This season I've realized that sometimes it's a whole lot easier not to have a duck in the fight.

Oregon Football, Jameis Winston, and Institutional Handling of Sexual Assault Accusations

Jeff Gross/Getty Images 

While basking in the last few minutes of the Oregon victory over Florida State in the first college play-off game, I posted this article from The Nation: A Reality of Their Own: Jameis Winston, Rape and Seminole Fandom at Florida State. I was proud of Oregon's win, but I also felt so relieved because finally the good guys won.

Then, as the Ducks celebrated, they were criticized for chanting "No Means No" to the rhythm of the Seminole war chant. Coach Helfrich stated these players would face discipline and although I haven't heard what discipline would be given, it's ironic that these players, who were celebrating a victory by rubbing an opponent's face (not very sportsman-like) and weren't likely providing a display of support for Winston's victim, will face more formal discipline than Winston ever will.

I wish I could say these players, and the Oregon fans who also chanted "No Means No," were providing a thoughtful critique of FSU's mishandling of rape accusations and their use of a racist chant, but in this testosterone charged college football bowl game atmosphere, this was likely more fueled by alcohol and adrenaline than political commentary.

Still, at Oregon, students and student athletes are well-aware of what sexual assault accusations look like and how they can be handled. U of O students protested and forced the hand of administration to  act on sexual assault charges brought against three U of O basketball players. Just like the Winston case, the district attorney never brought charges, but that is when the athletic department and University stepped in. Not only were these three players were dismissed from the team, they were later suspended from Oregon for as long as the victim attended.

Our colleges and universities and their associated athletic programs have a great deal to learn about how to create safe campuses for women, but at least U of O is moving in the right direction. Once again, go Ducks!

Multitasking While Watching the 2014 US Open

I've always dreamed that for a year I would follow the tennis tour, go to all four major and write about tennis. If anyone would like to fund this venture, hit me up, but for now, just a few thoughts as I watch Djokovic v. Murray after a long day (we took 215 students to a Dodger game).

It's the second set. It's been back and forth, but Murray is looking strong in this second set. Cut to: Amelie Mauresmo in the stands with an emphatic fist-pump after a Murray winner. She's coaching Murray? That's all kinds of awesome. Which got me wondering about some other women's tennis players. So, Gabriella Sabatini, according to www.wearetennis.com, has a perfume line and cycles to stay in shape. She's a few years older than me and looks amazing. Jennifer Capriati is on twitter @JenCapriati, and Monica Seles still reminds me of Celine Dion.

And how are the men holding up? Well, Mats Wilander, Stephan Edberg and Bjorn Borg look so much older than I expected but in a dignified kind of way.

Now, back to the match: another tiebreaker!

Escape to Brazil for World Cup

After losing my mom a few weeks ago, sports has provided a wonderful escape. My Dodgers pitched a no-hitter (thanks for the edit, Matt Rose), the French Open ended, Wimbledon started, and the World Cup is in full swing. David and I visited Rio a few years ago and it is a beautiful place for this beautiful game. Thank you to all of these athletes for the much needed distraction, but to Luis Suarez, come on. Even The Boss says there's no biting in sports.

  Bruce Springsteen -- Hey Suarez, There's No Biting In Sports!!!

Farewell to March...

For a sports fan March is a glorious time of year and this past weekend was the perfect example of this.

A few weeks ago perfect brackets awaited the chaos, but now, with tattered brackets in hand, we had the Elite Eight games for the men's NCAA tournament as well as the Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight games for the women's tournament to enjoy. Two weeks into the tournament, every team has a story and with close games and continued upsets, every game held heartbreak and triumph. This is what win or go home is all about. This is what happens when every possession and every shot counts.

And then, on this last day of March, Major League Baseball opened its season. After an overseas opening day for the Dodgers and Diamondbacks, top pitchers took to the mound in ballparks all over the league. Overlooking gorgeous outfields of green and flawless infield of dirt, every team started their season with the possibility of winning it all.

And now it is April. The Final Four games will close out the college basketball season, and soon stories will emerge from Major League Baseball of teams over and underachieving, of aging ball players like Jeter and new stars like Trout and Puig. This Dodgers fan will remain optimistic, but I know it's a long time before October.

March ends, and spring and summer stretch out before us. Filled with possibility I will embrace this one shining moment while I can.

Free Throws

After Oklahoma State hoops player, Marcus Smart, went into the stands a couple of weeks ago I've been thinking about crowds, and fans, and all the indiscretions that people get away with at sporting events. And since I'm working on a high school memoir, I went back to the early nineties, to this moment in the Crook County High School gym: my least favorite place to play in all of Central Oregon.

Free Throws

I stand at the line, find the center and press the toe of my high top to the edge. I take my three dribbles and lift the heels of my feet in little steps like I always do. I spin the ball to my fingertips, set, shoot, and drain the first of two free throws.

I step away from the line.

That’s when I hear someone from the crowd yell, “Connie Chung.”

I freeze. The sweat chills on my skin. I forget the score. I want to peer over my shoulder, to rewind the audio and listen again to make sure I really just heard that. With my ears piqued, I hear laughter from the crowd, and then silence. Then I hear it again. “Connie Chung” in that sing-songy way that crowds chant names. But it’s not a crowd. It’s just one voice. Then the giggles again.

I step to back up to the line and the referee bounces me the ball. I line up my toe and on that first dribble I wonder if someone is really saying that to me. I’m not sure. All I do know is that I’m the only one with an Asian name on the court. I’m the only Asian in the gym since Dad isn’t here. I shake my head. I dribble again.

Second dribble. I barely even look Asian since I'm only half, and don’t they know Connie Chung, the news anchor, is Chinese American and I’m Japanese? And my name’s in the program. Nori Nakada. Clearly Japanese, not Chinese. Why can’t people even be racist right?

My third dribble echoes in the silence of the gym. At least no one is joining in.

I take a deep breath and it’s there again, “Connie Chung.” The laughter again.

I take a second deep breath. I never do that. I never break my free-throw shooting routine, the one I took on in middle school and haven’t changed since. The one I’ve used to shoot over 90% from the line all through high school.

I stare through the net at the back of the rim and suddenly want to cry. I study the orange metal, feel the ball heavy in my palm, bend my knees and shoot. Don’t think. Just shoot. Rely on all that muscle memory.

I shoot, watch the ball arch through the silence, and I swishes right through. Figures. Another stereotype. The model minority. 

Some Favorite Sports Moments

I am really glad there isn't much video evidence of my basketball playing days. I'm sure some AV kid could dig through the archives at Mountain View to find tapes from the glory years when the Lady Cougars' varsity squad won two, maybe three games a season, but I think it's pretty safe to say no one will do that.

If they posted said videos on Youtube, you'd catch me rolling my eyes at referees, complaining about calls, maybe giving an occasional extra shove after a foul... and I was playing basketball in a small town for a team that rarely won. My stakes were so incredibly low that I can't imagine how my emotions could have gotten away from me on a larger stage.

So when I see athletes react in the heat of competition, in a big college game or playing in a playoff game at the professional level, I love it. I love seeing the raw emotion of competition on display. I understand Marcus Smart pushing a fan in the stands this past weekend, and Richard Sherman's impassioned post-game smack talking. I doubt either of them see this as one of their finest moments, but I can relate to their responses.

But as women's basketball rolls back around, this emotional moment by Shoni Schimmel upsetting Baylor in the Sweet 16 is one of my favorites.



She says after that shot she got up and asked Brittney Griner about the weather. I've written about Shoni before. Girl can ball and, Mountain View AV students, you can just toss those videos.

Buh bye, BCS!

Hey! Look, folks, another college football bowl season has ended and I'm back here at Throwing Cookies to talk some smack about sports. It's been a while, but not as long as the break I took for all of 2012 when I didn't post anything between the Ducks' Rose Bowl and Fiesta Bowl wins because of that darn baby. And look at that, Oregon won their bowl game again. What bowl did they play in again?

I have no excuses for my lack of sports writing. There was no torn Achilles' tendon, no newborn baby, no book tour. I just haven't written about sports aside from the occasional tweet or Facebook, or instagram post even though there was plenty to write about. We made our first trip to Dodgers Spring Training this

The family at spring training...

year and to a handful of Dodgers games. Our Emerson girls and boys flag football teams both brought home city titles. It was a great year in sports, but I didn't write about it. So, for 2014 I vow to post at least once a month, maybe even more. Yep. I know all of my 10 readers just gave me a virtual high five.

So, tonight I watched the final BCS championship game between Florida State and Auburn. If both could have lost, that would have been awesome, but at least it was an entertaining game. No SEC field-goal contest like in 2011. But Oregon's last loss in a bowl was to Auburn. I don't like Auburn and I don't like the SEC. So, yeah, how does it feel, Auburn. War damn eagle, family all in.

But what a great game to finish on: SEC loses in a great FSU comeback. But 2010 Auburn team that beat us and this FSU team were both led by Heisman winning quarterbacks who made and make me cringe. I'll take some Marcus Mariota for another year. Oh, and that Seminole chant is terrible. It was terrible when the Dodgers were beating the Braves in the playoffs and it was painful to hear it through the whole game tonight.

So long BCS. I can't wait for 2015 to see how this playoff thing works...

And until then, go Dodgers! Go Ducks basketball, baseball, and softball. And go Niners! Yep, I'm still on the Kaepernick bandwagon which I wrote about last January when all that Manti Te'o drama was unfolding and the college hoops season was just underway. I even got that Oregon run in the tourney that I hoped for.

So, here's to another great year in sports. 

March Madness! Go Ducks!

Back On My Feet

A year ago, I tore my Achilles’ Tendon. A year ago, we had a dog. A year ago Kiara wasn’t even
crawling yet. A year ago, I came home from the hospital on crutches and pain-killers.

It was a long three months recovering from surgery, getting off crutches, and out of the boot. Then there were the long months of physical therapy, but during one of those sessions, the PT told me my days of training and completing triathlons were over.

When he said this, I wasn’t devastated. If he’d told me no beach volleyball, no basketball, no tennis, or flag football, I would have been pretty bummed. But it was just triathlons. Even though I’d trained for and completed about 10, I could let go of triathlons. Tri training is a
lot of work. It’s time consuming. It requires a lot of gear. No triathlons? Oh well.

But this summer, I was determined to get back in shape. So, when a friend said she was doing San Diego Tri Rock I decided to make a go of it.

Thanks for all the support this weekend/year!

I had been walking for my workouts but got back into running. I got my bike serviced and starting riding for the first time since Wildflower in 2009. I got back into the pool. In these hours of working out, I found my breath again. I started eating cleaner and with all the exercise lost the baby and Achilles’ tendon weight.

This past weekend we made it to San Diego, watched the Dodgers win, and after a miserable

mile-long swim, a 21-mile bike ride, and 6-mile run I crossed the finish line.

So much can change in a year. Scout is in a new home, Kiara is a rambunctious toddler, and I am grateful to be back on my feet.

This Week In Sports: Highs and Lows

It started out pretty rough with all of that crazy Manti Te'o stuff to sort through and then Lance. I can't even look or listen to that guy. These two stories made me hate sports, but then things started to turn around.

Oregon beat UCLA. In basketball. For the second time in a row. To take sole possession of the PAC-12 lead. Wow. Maybe my New Year's wish that Oregon make a run in the tourney isn't as outlandish as I once thought.

The end of the Butler v. Gonzaga game. Crazy.

Then there was football. It's pretty rare that both teams I want to win make it to the Super Bowl. I'm on team Kaepernick. Make some room on that bandwagon.

How to Heal an Achilles' Tendon

Ah, Achilles, the hero of grief. That is the tendon I ruptured one September afternoon. It's January, and I'm back on my feet, but it has taken a LONG time. Here is a bit of a timeline for anyone unfortunate enough to tear this tendon or as a cautionary tale for those of you who think you don't need to stretch.

September 25, 2012: Ouch!

I tore the Achilles' tendon in my right foot while coaching the Emerson girls flag football team. It hurt. A LOT. But somehow the adrenaline got me through and I made my way back to my second floor classroom on crutches to teach fifth and sixth period before heading to the ER at Kaiser in West LA. 

This is my right foot after the diagnosis: Right Achilles' Tendon Rupture. They sent me home with my right leg in a splint, crutches, pain killers, and an appointment in orthopedics the following week.



September 25 - October 3: Waiting for Surgery

I was home with my leg elevated, extremely elevated, and on crutches. The toughest part was not being able to take care of my six-month-old daughter. I couldn't put any weight on the foot and with the crutches I couldn't carry her anywhere. It sucked. It was also challenging to shower because I couldn't take the hard splint off. Once I consulted with the Orthopedic Surgeon, he had the techs create a removable splint so I could shower more easily, but we invested in a plastic shower stool to prevent falls. Having a removable shower head was also a huge help.

October 3: Surgery

So, I didn't have to get surgery. The doctor said it looked like a complete rupture, went through the complications that come with surgery, and then left it up to me. If I wanted to remain active, the chances of a rerupture were slightly diminished by having surgery. The scarring at the heel is apparently an issue with some people post op. I decided to have the surgery. I am an athlete. I couldn't imagine never having any push off my right leg so under the knife I went! It only took a couple of hours and I didn't have to spend the night in the hospital, but I did have to fast all day because of the anesthesia.

October 3-14: Splint, Crutches, Elevate

After surgery they put a soft splint and wrap on my leg, and again, I couldn't get it wet. This was probably the roughest time. The pain was bad for a few days and I still had to keep it elevated constantly. Even when I went back to work on the 10th, I had to keep it propped up all day or the swelling worsened. I was on crutches, but I managed to get back to work, go to a wedding, and a first year birthday party. So, I was still able to get around.

October 15 - 23 Cast

For a couple of weeks, they put me in a cast. It was blue and pretty but I couldn't get it wet and it was itchy. I wasn't bummed when it came off.

October 24 - November 15: Boot with Crutches

Aw, the boot. For Achilles' surgery recovery, they put all these foam layers inside the boot to keep your toe in a pointed position. The boot made showering easier, but I was still on the crutches, still couldn't put any weight on my right foot, and had to sleep in the boot. On the upside, the pain had dissipated and I didn't have to keep it elevated as much. I even went on a field trip in a wheel chair.

November 16 - December 16: Weight Bearing in Boot

Goodbye crutches!!! What a relief to be weight bearing in the boot! I could carry Kiara again, and get a drink from the fridge. I could cook! Still couldn't drive, but I became so much more mobile at this point, and each week as I took a layer of foam out to bring my foot from pointed down to level I was getting closer. My hips hurt every time I took a layer out, but every week I felt myself getting back to walking normally!

December 17 - January 5: Two Shoes and PT

Goodbye boot, hello shoes. Yes, almost three months after surgery I was in two shoes, limping pretty noticeably because the tendon was so tight, but walking. You can't really tell in the pictures, but look, I'm short, no longer height assisted by a boot. And there, in that other one, boots, two of them! This week, four full months post-surgery, I can finally drive. With physical therapy, flexibility exercises, and strength conditioning I expect to be getting back on the court soon!

I still have a couple more months before any quick twitch movements and I am just now coming to the realization that I am never going to be the same. Still, I'll be back, people. I might not have the first step I once did, but I have to be able to beat Kaira at one-on-one until she's taller than me. Two bits of advice for anyone with a rupture: be patient with your self and your recovery and ask for help. There's no way I could have made it without the help of my partner, co-workers, and friends.