Curling season 3 starts with ups and downs

We started the fall season with a win, finishing with a score of 5-3.

We started the fall season with a win, finishing with a score of 5-3.

Tonight is the fourth week of the new curling season at the Utah Olympic Oval. Things for my team on Monday have been going OK, although we’re struggling a bit during games. The first game went rather well (as evidenced by the scoreboard at the top of this post), but we didn’t fare well during weeks 2 and 3.

It was great to be back on the ice. I usually take the summer off because my schedule doesn’t fit with the league night during the spring and summer sessions. However, there was no curling at all because the ice had to be taken out of the Oval last spring for scheduled repairs to the ice equipment. The last event on the ice before the maintenance was USA Curling’s 2018 Arena National Championships.

There was an open curling practice the Thursday before the start of league. I usually wouldn’t be able to go, but I had the night off because of the Labor Day holiday. There were seven other people and it was wonderful just to get used to all things curling.

On the first Monday, I got to meet my new team. For whatever reason, I don’t particularly mind not sticking with a team from season to season. As a result, my team’s lineup changes often, although myself and Joe have been the most consistent elements over the past two years.

This season, we added Karl and Robert to the lineup, both players I hadn’t really interacted with before. Our game started with myself, Joe and Karl. Robert was a little late because he was coming from the dentist. I admired his dedication — I don’t know if I would try to get on the ice right after something like that (which was more than a routine visit). We started out with the three-person rotation with me throwing the first three rocks, Karl taking the second set of three stones and Joe taking the last two. When Robert arrived, he played the second pair while Karl, acting as vice skip, delivered rocks 5 and 6.

We, playing the yellow stones, got off to a slow start, as evidenced by the scoreboard above. I believe we started with the hammer, but wasn’t able to get on the board until the third end. It was nice that things were still close until the fifth end, when we were able to leap ahead with three points.

The fifth end was a lot of fun, especially because I threw a double takeout (removing two of the opposition’s stones from play). After the match, my old teammate Travis said the double takeout was a little cheap — the opposing stones were right next to each other in the back of the house, making it an easy target. I responded that I got the double while playing lead — it takes an extraordinary set of circumstances for me to be able to take out two rocks.

Adapting to the ice

As usual, we struggled with the ice. We play on a rink that primarily dedicated to figure skating and speedskating (there’s another sheet dedicated to hockey and both rinks are surrounded by a long oval used for public skating and speedskating).

In curling, it’s ideal that the ice is level. Unfortunately, in general arenas, that is difficult to accomplish unless there is a lot of dedicated work to make the ice level. There are some weeks where the ice plays pretty level, but we often have to deal with the ice “falling” a certain way. In these situations, the stones will drift toward a certain area regardless of the direction that we want the stones to go in.

Uneven ice makes the game challenging and the team that best adapts to it has a significant advantage. Also, it’s not an unfair situation — both teams have to play on the same ice and face the same conditions.

Because both teams play under the same conditions, observant players can watch how each team delivers their shots. Although every player is different, it provides important information on how the ice is reacting and offers insight on which shot to select.

In that fifth end, being observant helped us get that three points. We had been sitting three with two stones toward the outside of the rings under cover and one near the button. The red team took out the shot rock near the button and stayed to count shot.

Having the hammer, we had one last shot. As Joe got into the hack to take his shot, I noticed that our vice skip had positioned the broom differently than the red vice had (the broom is used to provide a target for the player delivering the stone). I called out an audible — if we positioned our broom identically to the red team, we had the best shot of duplicating their result and scoring three. The vice moved the broom and we easily landed the hit and stay for three.

Preparing the ice

During the first week, I was partly responsible for the ice conditions. For the first time, I helped “pebble” the surface by spraying water over the ice to create the running surface for the stones to slide over. I had learned how to pebble during the arena nationals, but it was my first time covering a full field of play.

If you ever see video of someone pebbling, it looks fairly effortless. I can tell you that that there are some challenges — you’re walking backward the entire time with a large water tank strapped on your back while waving a wand back and forth repeatedly. When you’re pebbling, you want to apply the water as consistently as possible so you’re trying to keep a steady walking pace while moving your arm at a steady, but brisk tempo.

I think I did an OK job, although there are several things I’d like to work to improve on. It was definitely a lot of work to do just before a match and I was pretty winded. My right arm was sore for days afterward.

Missing the right way

Our first week ended on a high note. Moving into the final end of the night, we were up by one, but the red team had the hammer and shot last. If they scored one and tied, we would go to a draw-to-the-button tiebreaker. Ecstatic after we scored three, I told my teammates that we should “steal away home” and win the match.

As the end developed, it appeared it was going to be challenge to get a steal. The red team had a rock sitting on the button, but there were two stones in the back of the 4-foot ring that could act as a backstop.

We tried various shots and couldn’t get near the button. In our last shot, Joe threw an inturn stone toward the left side of the sheet hoping it would drift around a yellow guard and hit the button.

Unfortunately, the line wasn’t wide enough and it started moving toward the guard. Robert and I were sweeping, but it was clear that the stone could crash on the guard. Seeing an opportunity, I shouted to Robert that we should play off the guard stone and I swept to hopefully get the best angle between the two stones.

The shot struck the guard and Robert swept the second yellow stone right toward the button, where it pushed the red stone into the backstop and we were sitting shot rock. The red team still had one stone, but they faced an incredibly difficult shot to try to push ours out of the way.

It was close, but we prevailed and escaped with the win.

We all congratulated Joe on his shot, and he replied that that wasn’t his shot. I didn’t mind — one thing that many expert curlers emphasize, including Russ Howard in his book “Curl to Win,” is missing the right way. That basically means to consider contingencies that will either help you or at least not hurt you.

Weeks 2 and 3

Our next two games didn’t go so well (which may be why I don’t have any photos of them). I missed our second match because of a work emergency (but got to sub on Thursday and had a lot of fun). Joe also curls on Thursday and told me that we got on the board early, but couldn’t slow down the team Game of Stones (which won Monday league last winter).

Last Monday, I was back but Karl wasn’t there. Joe, Robert and I faced off against Team Mischo. Mischo is skipped by Keith Mischo, who won bronze at the World Deaf Curling Championships in 2017. We had our work cut out for ourselves and it was a struggle all night.

We got on the board near the end, but Team Mischo pretty much romped over us.

I again threw lead and I realized that I needed to be doing a better job — most of my stones were short of the house, even when I was asked to throw draws closer to the button. When I tried to increase my delivery weight, I pushed a couple of stones through the house entirely and out of play. Thankfully, I haven’t yet thrown a stone this season that was so short it was out of play (called hogging). It’s been a silver lining so far and I hope that keeps up.

Our match ended a little early, so I had some extra time to practice my delivery. That is something that is very much a work in progress and another thing I would like to improve this season.

On to the next episode…

Back in the hack for year 3 of curling

That was the conclusion of the final end of my second year of curling (it's not my shot). We were playing yellow, but an attempt to use the dial tool dislodged a stone so we called it a tie. Our skip, Joe, won the sudden-death draw to the button.

That was the conclusion of the final end of my second year of curling (it’s not my shot). We were playing yellow, but an attempt to use the dial tool dislodged a stone so we called it a tie. Our skip, Joe, won the sudden-death draw to the button.

I started my third full year in curling two weeks ago at the Utah Olympic Oval in Kearns. It was great to get back to a sport that I’ve come to enjoy over the past two years.

Considering that my involvement in the sport has ramped up in the past few years (including attending the World Men’s Curling Championship in Las Vegas and volunteering for a national event in Salt Lake City), I thought it would be fun to share some of my experiences on the ice. I’m not a competitive curler by any stretch of the imagination, but I definitely hope to continue getting better and make a positive contribution to whatever team I’m playing on.

My team in Monday curling league (Team 20/20) ended the winter season on a high note. We fought from behind to tie the opposing team in the B bracket playoffs on March 26.

In the final end, I inadvertently set in motion what would eventually result in a tie (that’s the photo at the top of this post). The tie led to a sudden-death draw to the button that our skip, Joe, won.

In that final end, I was playing second on a three-person team (that means I threw the 4, 5 and 6 red stones out of eight). Thanks to the shooting of our lead, Andrew, we were sitting shot but there was a gap that someone could shoot to get closer to the button (as the team with the stone closest to the button scores).

My task was to put up a guard in that gap to prevent the opposing team (The Icemen) from taking advantage of the opening. My first couple attempts didn’t pan out.

My third and final shot also missed as a guard — it drew into the gap (or port, in curling lingo) and rested near the button. It was a nice shot that didn’t immediately hurt us, but it created an opening for the opposing yellow team (which had the advantage of throwing the final stone of the end).

The opposing vice skip (who shoots third out of four) threw a shot similar to mine and pushed my last rock out of the way.

From there, it was a back-and-forth effort between the two teams. Our skip, Joe, followed the same line and knocked the yellow stone out of the way. The yellow team skip delivered the same shot and pushed our red stone back slightly.

That led to a crucial moment in the end and the game — who has the shot? If it’s us on the red team, it would be prudent to put up a guard and end this bit of shooting practice. From my perspective as the vice skip, I thought it was close but the advantage was ours.

(As an aside, it didn’t make sense to try the draw shot again because our red stone was behind the tee line — it could’ve been used by the yellow team as a backstop, allowing them to sit fully on the center of the button and claim the win.)

Joe successfully put up a guard, clogging the port that we had all found success through. It forced the yellow team to make a difficult shot that they couldn’t convert. They would’ve basically had to run into two of their stones for a chance to push their stone closest to the button just a centimeter forward.

Here’s what team yellow faced:

In the last shot of the final end of the winter 2018 Monday league, the yellow team faced a difficult shot to try to get their stone closest to the button on March 26, 2018, at the Utah Olympic Oval in Kearns.

In the last shot of the final end of the winter 2018 Monday league, the yellow team faced a difficult shot to try to get their stone closest to the button on March 26, 2018, at the Utah Olympic Oval in Kearns.

The photo doesn’t show the red stone sitting in the outer green circle (called the 12-foot) at roughly the 10 o’clock position.

After each team has thrown their eight stones, it’s up to the vice skips to agree on who actually scored. If it’s not possible from visual observation, there’s a measuring device that can be used. It was the star of the Winter Olympics whenever it was used on TV and it came into play that night in March.

Unfortunately, there was a bit of mixup in the measurement. Because the stones were so close to each other, the measurer tried to measure the outside of the stones. That doesn’t work for many reasons, particularly because the sensor doesn’t bend in that direction.

Trying to sweep the measuring dial past our red stone simply pushed the rock out of the way slightly. We were given the opportunity to reset our stone, but I noted that there was really no way to do it in a way that was fair especially because we were trying to measure its original position and that was no longer possible.

With measuring out of the question, both teams concluded that it was easiest to declare that it was a tie and that no team scored that end (called a blank).

(Another aside: We were uncertain about the rules when it came to measurements and it led to a Reddit discussion on the matter. The curling rules do address the situation, which will be helpful moving forward. We didn’t know it at the time and I was happy both teams agreed to call it a tie.)

The tie set up the draw to the button, where each team’s skip throws one stone to try to get closest to the center of the house.

Joe made the shot and we won our playoff. It was an exhilarating end to a great night of curling. Even before the yellow team took their last shot in the final full end, it was exciting that we had to come back from being down 3-0 after the first end and stole a point in the fifth end to tie everything up heading into that crucial sixth end.

Here’s the box score:

Our match was for the B bracket championship which was set up for the teams in the middle of the pack in our league. We entered the playoffs seeded eighth and I was more than happy to emerge as the “best of the rest” of our league night.

The members of Team 20/20 — from the left, Joe, Andrew and Ryan — pose after receiving medals for winning the "B" bracket during the winter 2018 Monday curling league at the Utah Olympic Oval.

The members of Team 20/20 — from the left, Joe, Andrew and Ryan — pose after receiving medals for winning the “B” bracket during the winter 2018 Monday curling league at the Utah Olympic Oval.

This season, I’m on a changed up team. We started off with a win, but have since run into some trouble. Next time, I’ll recap how the year has started.

UCSD basketball outdraws some Division I schools

UCSD's Main Gym is seen in this composite photo taken in the 1990s. Most indoor intercollegiate activities now take place at the RIMAC Center.

UCSD’s Main Gym is seen in this composite photo taken in the 1990s. Most indoor intercollegiate activities now take place at the RIMAC Center.

UCSD’s average attendance is around 250 out of 5000 seats — trising on The Big West Boards

The UC San Diego intercollegiate athletics program faces a key date this month, as the Big West Conference leadership is supposed to consider whether to invite UCSD into the conference (and thus determine whether the campus moves to NCAA Division I, per the outcome of last year’s student vote).

I’ve been paying more attention to the matter, including visiting a number of discussion boards centered around the Big West and other mid-major conferences. I spotted the above quote on one of the boards and wanted to respond because that information doesn’t match what I’ve seen. I’m also including some additional thoughts that have been on my mind.

UCSD men’s basketball average attendance has been several times higher than this figure in the past. It’s not going to compare with the top-flight Big West programs, but it’s better than the cited members.

Here’s the information from the NCAA on UCSD men’s basketball team’s average home attendance for the 2014-15 season*:

UCSD – men’s (D-II) — 11 games — 9,497 total attendance — 863 avg. per game

It beat the average NCAA Division II men’s basketball attendance ​of 710 per game in 2014. As a D-II program, UCSD also exceeded UC Riverside’s average attendance that year (762) and non-BWC Sacramento State’s (815). It also tied CSU Northridge that year in the category.

By comparison, UC Irvine’s average home attendance that year was 2,348 and UC Davis’ was 2,584. (Davis, Irvine, Northridge and Riverside are all in the Big West.)

Of course, UCSD’s figures reflect average home attendance over the entirety of the season (which was the standard that the original poster offered). Spirit Night attendance in 2015 was 3,881. If one wished to calculate the average WITHOUT the most popular game of the year, you get a per-game average of 562 — still twice the figure originally offered.


As an aside, UCSD women’s basketball average home attendance in 2014-15 (397) beat out UC Riverside (270) and UC Irvine (248). UC Davis had a respectable 1,049 while non-BWC San Diego State had a relatively woeful 604 (non-BWC University of San Diego also had 536).

I know a lot of attention is focused on the men’s basketball teams, but a single sport does not an athletic program make.

According to 2014 numbers (which may be the 2013-14 season, my notes are incomplete), UCSD men’s basketball had higher average attendance than 21 D-I schools (out of 345). The women’s team outdrew 31 D-I schools (out of 343).


Regarding the men’s basketball attendance figures, I did the initial research in part to show that moving to Division I isn’t a silver bullet for schools moving up. As a UCSD graduate watching UC Riverside move to D-I in the late 1990s, I thought that they made the move for the wrong reasons and their still-woeful basketball attendance may an indication that they may have missed the mark.

I’m still worried that UCSD students are seeking the move to D-I for the “wrong reasons” because merely moving up a division isn’t likely to deliver the supposed greater prestige of competition (no offense to BWC), higher alumni interest, boosted student spirit and increased relevance in a sports market that already includes two D-I schools and a MLB team. I’ve long backed an approach similar to UC Davis, which built up student and fan support years before moving to D-1.

At the same time, as any proud Triton will tell you, UCSD is NOT UC Riverside. Even as a D-II program, UCSD men’s basketball home attendance tops lower-tier BWC teams. Although it’s not a guarantee, UCSD would hopefully continue to top those numbers and grow as it moves into D-I.

Ultimately, I’m setting aside my personal reservations because UCSD students DID vote for the move and I pledged to back whatever the students decided (they’re paying for it, after all, and will reap the ultimate fruits of this endeavor).

With the figurative ball now in the conference’s court, I appreciate the discussions on this board and elsewhere. There seem to be a lot of factors at play, but I hope there’s a decision that works best for everyone.

Go Tritons (currently in the D-II Sweet 16) and Aggies (as they enter March Madness)! — Ryan


* — Why figures from 2014-15? Those were the ones available when I was researching the issue ahead of the UCSD students’ D-I vote last year.

The20: Fight on with mighty Triton spirit – Part I

As seen on Instagram, I debuted a new yellow UCSD T-shirt on Friday, Feb. 17, 2017, as the UC San Diego Tritons took on the Brigham Young University Cougars in Provo.

As seen on Instagram, I debuted a new yellow UCSD T-shirt on Friday, Feb. 17, 2017, as the UC San Diego Tritons took on the Brigham Young University Cougars in Provo.

I’ve been a pretty vocal opponent to the possibility of UC San Diego moving to Division I. Despite my past reservations about D-I (which seems highly likely at this point), it was a total blast to once more cheer on the UCSD Tritons in men’s volleyball tonight against Brigham Young University.

This was a match I had been looking forward to ever since I moved to Provo last May — men’s volleyball is the only Triton team that regularly competes against a team in Utah. When I was in Chico, UCSD and Chico State were in the same conference, so there were always a couple of opportunities every year to cheer for the blue and gold in sports like basketball, baseball, softball and women’s volleyball.

Although I hoped to be loudly cheering for the Tritons on Friday, I knew that there would be a lot more people rooting for the Cougars. Watching some past volleyball matches on BYUtv, I knew that the Smith Fieldhouse can be a loud atmosphere but I wanted UCSD to have a voice there as well. I also bought a new, bright yellow Triton T-shirt for the occasion. All of my previous shirts were shades of blue, which would probably blend in with the Cougar blue that was sure to fill the stands.

When it came to buying the tickets earlier this week, I was a bit at a loss — I didn’t know if there would be any Triton supporters in attendance and where they might sit (and the reserved seats weren’t necessarily cheap). The box office staff at the Marriott Center was friendly, but they didn’t know either. Eventually, I just settled for the $5 general admission ticket and decided to take my chances.

On game day, I donned my new shirt and made my way north to the BYU campus. Parking was super-easy as the expansive fieldhouse lot is available to the public after 4 p.m. or so.

The fieldhouse itself was a quirky older building, with a narrow indoor track ringing the court and seating area. I made my way past the clearly reserved seats to the opposite side of the court. I asked a man handing out programs if this where the general admission seats were. He said yes and commented that I was brave wearing that shirt inside the fieldhouse.

As I made my way into the arena, I saw blue, plastic hard-backed bucket seats. The aisle seats were all marked “reserved,” and I assumed that only _those_ seats were reserved. That was an erroneous assumption, but I wouldn’t find out about that until later.

I found a great seat about five or six rows up near center court (but not on the center line because it had the “reserved” sign on it). I picked the side that I knew the Tritons would be on and settled in. I noted that the playing area on the court was smaller than it looks on TV. I’ve attended dozens of volleyball games, so I’m used to the court dimensions but the difference in perspective was fascinating.

It was about 30 minutes before the start of the match, so I took a self-portrait to post online. I also dashed to the concessions stand for a couple of waters because I knew it was unlikely that I would be able to leave my seat once the match began (a prediction that generally proved correct). The crowd slowly trickled in. I looked about several times to see if there were any other Triton fans in attendance, but I wasn’t having much luck.

All too quickly, the countdown clock wound down and it was time for the match to begin. After singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” along with the crowd over a very loud recorded instrumental version of the song, it was game time.

To be continued…

From the vault: UCSD’s possible Division I move isn’t enough to bolster school spirit

Scaffolding is in place around the Sun God sculpture at UC San Diego at some point during my time there before 2001.

Scaffolding is in place around the Sun God sculpture at UC San Diego at some point during my time there before 2001.

Author’s note: I started writing this in the spring of 2012, the last time UC San Diego students voted on whether to move to NCAA Division I (it failed with 56.7 percent of students voting no). It’s unfinished, but I’m finally publishing it because students will again vote on D-I this spring. Aside from modifying the original headline (from “UCSD’s possible Division I move won’t bolster school spirit alone”), everything else is presented as-is from four years ago. I’ll definitely have more thoughts in the weeks to come.

UC San Diego’s possible move to NCAA Division I has been on my mind since the student vote started last week. The proposal has stirred deep concerns, but I sort of didn’t want to speak out about it. While I have strong spirit for UCSD, it’s not really my opinion that matters — it really boils down to the current students and what they want.

After doing some research and witnessing a relatively small crowd watch the women’s basketball team in the playoffs (at a tournament UCSD was hosting), I’ve concluded that D-I likely won’t accomplish what proponents say they want — an increase in the campus’ prominence, a bolstered campus life and a more involved alumni community. At least not alone.

Ultimately, having students each pay nearly $500 more per year for Division I seems pound foolish without a concerted effort to pursue complementary, pennywise solutions.

Campus prominence — This is a tempting lure. After all, at D-I, there’s always the possibility of the men’s or women’s basketball teams making it to March Madness. And for 21 other sports that struggle for the spotlight, there’s the ability to play slightly bigger rivals. And think of all the other Division I programs that you can name.

Unfortunately, campus prominence seems like a tease. There are 346 D-I schools. Name recognition gets sketchy after the 47th team in a basketball tournament or the two teams facing off in a 35th-tier football bowl game sponsored by a bail bondsman.

Other schools have made the argument that D-I would bolster their regional and national appearance. When I was going to school, UC Riverside students made that argument when voting to go to Division I in 1998.

Does the fact that UCR is now D-I really improve that campus’ reputation in your mind? The same argument could be made for UC Irvine and even UC Santa Barbara (outside of their basketball team, at times). These are schools known largely for things other than their athletic legacy.

Proponents also assert that UCSD has outgrown D-II after 12 short years, arguing that the school is too big for its conference, the California Collegiate Athletic Association, in both student population, academic prowess and athletic performance. I’m not too concerned about campus size or scholastic performance, but there’s still room to grow athletically.

Yes, UCSD excels in the conference, but it has earned three national team championships in Division II in 12 years, according to NCAA stats. Compare that with the 20 team titles UCSD won in Division III (where UCSD clearly exceeded average school size and dominated the division).

If UCSD goes to D-I, I predict its prominence will still languish on regional and national stages. Locally, UCSD would still be in third position — behind San Diego State University and University of San Diego. (USD is another example where a school’s D-I status is relatively unimportant — except for Jim Harbaugh for football and a rare March Madness basketball win.)

If UCSD were an athletic Goldilocks, Division III was obviously too small, Division I is likely too big, while Division II is still just right.

Improved campus life

Raiders seem to have enough money to build new stadium without public help

An Amtrak California train passes by O.co Coliseum on Aug. 2, 2014.

A Capitol Corridor train passes by O.co Coliseum on Aug. 2, 2014.

As everyone ponders what may happen to the Oakland Raiders after the NFL owners cleared a path Tuesday for the St. Louis Rams and the San Diego Chargers to relocate to Los Angeles, I wondered if the Raiders and owner Mark Davis could finance their own stadium without significant taxpayer subsidy.

My math may be a little off, but I think it’s pretty darn likely given the numbers that have flown around the past few months. Still, it’s probably not in the Raiders’ best interests to go it alone when it could probably find some city willing to fork over hundreds of millions of dollars.

First, before it was shot to heck with the owners’ decision, the Chargers and Raiders had developed a joint proposal to develop a shared stadium in Carson between Los Angeles and Long Beach. The initial proposed cost for the privately financed facility — $1.7 billion, according to ESPN. I don’t immediately know the breakdown of the partnership, but if the Chargers and Raiders were equal partners, I would guess that the Raiders would be responsible for $850 million.

Second, the three teams that were planning to move to Los Angeles were expected to each pay a $550 million relocation fee. The San Francisco Chronicle reports that the Raiders have asked that the relocation fee be waived because they didn’t get to move to LA. Nonetheless, before Tuesday, the Raiders were prepared to pay $550 million and their share of the new stadium (maybe $850 million). That’s already $1.4 billion.

Third, the Raiders didn’t get the brass ring of moving to Los Angeles, but they got a lovely $100 million parting gift. Add that to the previous totals and you’re looking at $1.5 billion.

The pool of $1.5 billion may not be enough to build a stadium along the lines of Carson — which would’ve required locker rooms, offices and more for two home teams. The Rams’ Inglewood stadium was expected to cost $1.86 billion, according to the LA Times.

Levi's Stadium is pictured behind some youth soccer fields on Oct. 14, 2104, in Santa Clara, California.

Levi’s Stadium is pictured behind some youth soccer fields on Oct. 14, 2104, in Santa Clara, California.

A better example may be found in Levi’s Stadium, the home of the Raiders’ Bay Area rival Santa Clara San Francisco 49ers. The estimated price tag of Levi’s was $1.2 billion, according to the San Jose Mercury News in 2012. Although the football experience has been criticized at Levi’s Stadium, it is apparently packed to the gills with fan amenities and expensive accommodations to help pad the owners’ wallets.

If the Niners were able to build that for $1.2 billion, surely the Raiders would be able to build something similar for around $1.5 billion. Contemporary proposals for new stadiums in St. Louis and San Diego called for spending about a billion apiece.

[An aside: The cost to build a building that will be used by its primary tenant 10 days a year is flabbergasting. AT&T Park, one of the best Major League Baseball stadiums, cost $357 million when it was built in 1997. That facility was privately financed and gets used by its primary tenant for about 85 days a year.]

I’ll readily admit that there are a lot of factors that I don’t know about. For example, the Wikipedia article about Levi’s Stadium notes that the Santa Clara Stadium Authority — the entity that actually owns the facility — borrowed $850 million from banks, a $200 million NFL loan and some local taxes. Who knows what sort of hoops the Raiders would have to jump through to secure enough funding? Also, some of the funding for the Carson proposal may have been contingent on the value of the team jumping considerably by moving to the giant media market that is Los Angeles.

Nonetheless, it would appear that there are ways for the Raiders to privately fund a stadium without extensively relying on taxpayer support.

There’s not much I can add to the ongoing criticism of the use of extensive taxpayer funding for massive edifices for a pastime. It is worth noting that Oakland, St. Louis and San Diego taxpayers were all burned to some extent by financially supporting the last generation of stadiums — OaklandSt. Louis and San Diego are all stuck paying off new buildings or expansions done within the last 21 years. San Diego also entered into a ruinous ticket guarantee leading to the city buying tickets to cover its obligation until the contract was renegotiated nearly 12 years ago.

One would think that these examples of taxpayers still holding the bag on three facilities would be cautionary tales to other governments. Alas, they weren’t even cautionary tales for two of the cities losing their NFL teams, as governments there tried assembling deals that would fork over hundreds of millions of taxpayer funds (nearly $400 million in St. Louis and $350 million in San Diego) for new stadiums. By comparison, Oakland looked absolutely frugal by declining to directly contribute to a new stadium but offered $90 million in infrastructure improvements.

To compound matters, the league didn’t particularly care for any of these proposals going to voters for approval because NFL officials wanted certainty in any of the cities’ offers. Apparently, St. Louis was preparing to move forward without a plebiscite, while San Diego officials were inexplicably optimistic a proposal would pass in a city that has dealt with owner shenanigans for 20+ years.

It’s hard to blame the NFL and the team owners for how they handle obtaining funding — it’s a business and they’re looking at their bottom line. However, the onus must lie on local governments who seem to bring truth to the saying that there’s a sucker born every minute. Serious questions must be asked about issuing 30-year bonds for facilities that may only get used for 25 years — in addition to the Chargers and Rams bailing on facilities built or remodeled since 1994, the Atlanta Falcons are preparing to leave a facility opened in 1992 (and the baseball Atlanta Braves are soon to ditch a stadium built in 1997).

I don’t know if Raiders owner Mark Davis really wants to stay in Oakland. Even if it doesn’t come with the benefits and relative safety net of taxpayer assistance, it still seems possible and potentially rewarding to use solely private funding.

Pin-a-Go-Go transforms Dixon into pinball paradise

The multi-ball feature of Star-Jet pinball machine on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon, California.

The multi-ball feature of Star-Jet pinball machine on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon, California.

Looking for something with a little pop or an idea to bounce off your friends this weekend? People can find endless hours of fun with unlimited gameplay on more than 100 pinball machines at Pin-a-Go-Go at the Dixon May Fair this Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

The A-Go-Go pinball machine on display at the 2014 Pin-a-go-go festival in Dixon, California.

The A-Go-Go pinball machine on display at the 2014 Pin-a-go-go festival in Dixon, California.

My friends and I made the 2-hour drive to the festival last year and we were amazed at the machines on display in three large spaces on the fairgrounds. Newer novelty machines were on display and playable (like one based on the most recent “Star Trek” movies). The machines went back decades, including some of the first tables that were based on releasing a ball and watching it bounce of pins, giving the game its name.

Getting to Dixon was straightforward — it’s off of Interstate 80 between Davis and Vacaville. The fairgrounds are just south of the downtown, so be ready for a little bit of off-highway driving. Parking was free and the lot was fairly expansive.

Entry into the event _wasn’t_ free, but the $25/30 admission was worthwhile to both the attendee and the town, as the proceeds benefit local community groups. Be forewarned — much of the event is cash only, although an ATM card can be used for some transactions.

After you get in, all the machines that are playable are set to free play. If the machine is open, you can just walk up and give it a whirl. You can usually play a couple of short games before common courtesy prompts you to give the machine up to anyone waiting in line.

A panorama of one of the rows of playable pinball machines at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go in Dixon, California.

A panorama of one of the rows of playable pinball machines at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go in Dixon, California.

Some of the machines were provided by museums, like the Pacific Pinball Museum in Alameda. Many of the tables were provided by private collectors who thankfully share their treasures with others for a few days.

The playfield board for the Monopoly pinball game on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon, California.

The playfield board for the Monopoly pinball game on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon, California.

Spending a few hours among the tables gives you a more expansive view of this gaming world beyond the couple of neglected pinball machines that you might find at a pizza parlor or bowling alley. There are vendors offering parts to help keep the machines running and modernize the devices somewhat (like switching out old bulbs with LED lights). One vendor had a playfield for the old Monopoly game which underwent the LED conversion. I played that machine for years at Madison Bear Garden. I still love how it looked, especially with the upgrades.

Each of the tables includes a small white card detailing who the owner is and if the machine is for sale. Some machines trade hands over the course of the weekend (and some of those purchased devices are sometimes taken out of play once a deal is completed).  There is also a fundraising raffle of a couple classic tables, which we did NOT win last year.

The number of machines available for play are overwhelming. The main room has several rows containing dozens of tables and there are two more halls beyond that. One hall appeared to be dedicated to more vintage machines, like “Classy Bowler” or a rocket-themed game called Star-Jet which featured one of the earliest examples of multi-ball.

Backglass art for the Classy Bowler pinball game on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon,

Backglass art for the Classy Bowler pinball game on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon,

The third hall is in a separate building a short distance away and appeared to feature mostly newer machines, although there were some gems from the 1970s and ’80s, including a giant-sized “Superman” table that Atari later adapted into a failed video pinball game (which I played in Alameda).

It seemed impossible to play every single one of the machines in a day. There’s little seating so you begin to enter something of a fugue state after a few hours of standing and ceaselessly bouncing silver spheres through ramp- and trap-filled cabinets.

There is some respite — there are a handful of tables and a snack stand selling hamburgers, hot dogs and the like. On Sunday, there is the free All British Motor Vehicle Show & Swap Meet on the fairgrounds so you can enjoy a different sort of chrome than pinball. There are also clinics for people to learn the best pinball tricks (I never learned to really bump the table) and mini tournaments geared to people with different playing experiences. Basically, you’re not going to get bored here.

Backglass art for the 1978 KISS pinball game

Backglass art for the 1978 KISS pinball game

As our visit progressed, I lost track of the different pinball machines we played. Generally, the earliest tables were the hardest to play — some of the early bumpers were too short and the ball dropped out of play too quickly. The tables from the 1950s and ’60s showed a considerable amount of creativity and were fun to play as a novelty, but they were still missing a lot of features found in more modern games.

Things change after electronics take hold in the pinball world. Manufacturers also threw a lot of ideas against the wall to try to combat the rise of the arcade machines (which fell prey to home video gaming in a few short years).

There were some brand tie-in machines that looked good, but weren’t necessarily a lot of fun. Some of these boards included KISS and “Doctor Who.” The KISS machine was definitely very unique, but it wasn’t easy to get into the game before it ended. However, people will have another shot at the game because they’re bringing it back.

A portion of the playing field for 1994's World Cup Soccer pinball game on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon, California.

A portion of the playing field for 1994’s World Cup Soccer pinball game on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon, California.

Doctor Who brought back a lot of nostalgia because it was made after the series’ original run ended in 1987. The game has a complex array of options as each incarnation of the Doctor offered a different set of bonuses, but it wasn’t too hard to get into a multi-ball. It also featured a lot of moving parts (which lead to a higher rate of breakdowns, from what I hear).

World Cup 1994 is a machine that would seem be instantly dated after the competition ended 21 years ago, but it seemed to gain some relevance as soccer has surged in popularity in the United States. The machine had some unique challenges, including trying to deflect the pinball of a whirling soccer ball into a goal (just like in real life!).

Some of the playfield art for 1994's World Cup Soccer pinball game on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon, California.

Some of the playfield art for 1994’s World Cup Soccer pinball game on display at the 2014 Pin-a-Go-Go show in Dixon, California.

There also appeared to be some odd attempts to add sex appeal — like depicting the referee as a buxom woman in a form-fitting uniform. Throughout the history of pinball, there were many shameless attempts to use sexualized images. It is something that has regrettably continued to this day with such machines like “Whoa Nellie! Big Juicy Melons,” which features a cute, cartoony farm theme marred by gratuitous, over-the-top references to female anatomy.

Ultimately, Pin-a-Go-Go is a great event for people of all ages. Even after hours of pulling back the spring-loaded plunger to launch the pinball into play, it’s a loud, colorful buffet of entertainment that makes you want to go back for more.

Sacramento may need lessons on cheering

A view of Power Balance Arena during the Portland Trail Blazers - Sacramento Kings game on April 15, 2012, in Sacramento, Calif.

A view of Power Balance Arena during the Portland Trail Blazers – Sacramento Kings game on April 15, 2012, in Sacramento, Calif.

These are exciting times for Sacramento, with the plans for a new Kings basketball arena moving forward and the attendance-record-shattering launch of a new minor league soccer team. After attending a Sacramento River Cats game over the weekend, I can see a huge area for improvement — Sacramento needs to learn how to cheer better.

I first spotted this shortcoming when I attended a Sacramento Kings game on April 15, 2012. There was pretty decent turnout for a game that didn’t matter too much (the Kings were well out of contention by that point).

However, the only cheer that had any traction was the ol’ “DE! FENSE! *clap, clap.*” The team and fans would crank up that cheer every time the Kings were on defense.

As I noted to a friend in attendance, the cheer got pretty old early in the third quarter. When you yell “defense” every time your team is on defense, you’re going to be shouting it for half the game — about 24 minutes of game time.

It was ridiculous and there seemed to be little enthusiasm for other cheers. By the end of the game, I tried shouting other cheers or jokingly use other words in the rhythm of the defense cheer.

A large crowd watches the Sacramento River Cats take on the Las Vegas 51s in minor league baseball on Saturday, Aug. 2, 2014, in West Sacramento, Calif.

A large crowd watches the Sacramento River Cats take on the Las Vegas 51s in a minor league baseball game on Saturday, Aug. 2, 2014, in West Sacramento, Calif.

There wasn’t a lot of spontaneity at last Saturday’s River Cats game against the Las Vegas 51s. There was another large crowd with a great family atmosphere at Raley Field in West Sacramento. Once again, there was an odd lack of cheering.

Yes, the crowd generally clapped along with the PA system prompts and celebrated the on-field performance. They even briefly broke into The Wave, although the stadium doesn’t have seating around the field.

However, there wasn’t a lot of clapping, chanting or cheering during at-bats. After watching Oakland A’s fans clapping for potential strikeouts earlier Saturday, I was struck by how quiet this Sacramento crowd was.

As I usually do, I shouted out my own positive encouragements during some at-bats (I was ecstatic at the coincidence that the River Cats batter usually put the ball in play after I started a cheer). The crowd seemed very laid back, although there was some amusement and laughter when one of my later cheers for “Sac-ra-men-to” degenerated into a Muppet-esque “Aaaaaaaaah!”

In a slightly ironic moment, I started the “Defense” cheer in the ninth inning when the River Cats were struggling. They needed two outs, but had given up three runs. Moments after I started the cheer, the 51s player batted into a double play and the game was over.

I don’t know who could do it, but someone should offer to help revitalize cheering and chanting during Sacramento games. The River Cats had a green crew that tried to lead some cheers as they collected trash, but they moved elsewhere in the stadium before building any momentum.

I would generally support anyone or anything that helps get the crowd into the game without resorting to insults or derogatory language. Supporters groups or pep bands can add a lot of energy to a crowd experience, but I’ve also seen situations where the band or group drowns everyone else out and makes it hard to get the fans engaged.

I’ll admit that my experience going to Sacramento sporting events is limited, but I certainly hope these two games are not typical of the game atmosphere. Sacramento has a great fan base — as shown by the recent fight to keep the Kings in the city. I hope there is an effort to make sure that enthusiasm consistently shows up at games.

The night I nearly tripped over Tony Gwynn

A mourner looks up at the Tony Gwynn "Mr. Padre" statue outside Petco Park Monday, June 16, 2014, in San Diego. Gwynn, an eight time National League batting champion and a member of Baseball Hall of Fame, died Monday from cancer. (AP Photo/Lenny Ignelzi)

A mourner looks up at the Tony Gwynn “Mr. Padre” statue outside Petco Park on Monday, June 16, 2014, in San Diego. Gwynn, an eight-time National League batting champion and a member of Baseball Hall of Fame, died Monday from cancer. (AP Photo/Lenny Ignelzi)

I’m still in shock that Tony Gwynn has died. He was one of those icons you thought would live for decades, sort of like fellow slugger Ted Williams, but Gwynn left us at age 54 after battling salivary-gland cancer. Gwynn’s presence loomed large over baseball and San Diego, yet he seemed like one of the nicest, most relatable people around.

That was certainly true one day late in the 1997 season when I almost tripped over him.

It was the San Diego Padres’ last homestand of the season. I was working as co-news editor of the UCSD Guardian when we heard Chancellor Robert Dynes was going to throw out the first pitch that night (IIRC, it would’ve been the Wednesday, Sept. 17 game against the Colorado Rockies).

We thought it would make for a decent photo, but our photo editor had other assignments. We were on deadline, but I called for a press pass and headed for Qualcomm Stadium after grabbing a camera.

By the time I found parking (in the VIP area!) and got into the stadium, I was starting to run a bit late. After riding in a cramped and creaky old elevator to field level, I jogged down the tunnel toward the field where I was directed.

As I made my way through the cold, grey corridor, I started going a bit faster before I realized the tunnel had a slight downward slope.

I was going faster, faster and then I suddenly saw a player sitting on the floor, lacing up his shoes. If I didn’t do something, I would’ve crashed into him. I felt I couldn’t stop safely so I kind of skip-hopped to the right.

As I passed him, I heard a kind voice saying something like, “Woah, slow down there buddy” with a little chuckle.

It was Tony Gwynn.

I’m pretty sure it was him, although I passed by in a blur. I shouted out “Sorry, sir” and continued toward the field. I was able to get to the photographers’ area near the dugout with just a few moments to spare before Dynes threw out the first pitch (with three other people — it was Community Day or something).

The photo didn’t run — it was double-exposed somehow.

As I’ve retold the story over the years, I’m deeply thankful that I didn’t run into him. I would’ve been horrified if Gwynn was somehow injured because of my actions. Also, in hindsight, I appreciated his polite response, other people may have not reacted so well to such an interruption.

That was my only near-encounter with Gwynn. It would’ve been great to have known him better and to share some firsthand encounters like Keith Olbermann (video).

At the same time, nearly every San Diegan who was around during Gwynn’s 20-year career knew him in some fashion and his death leaves a hole in the city’s psyche. Even when the Padres were in the dumps (as they were in 1997), San Diegans could always look to Tony Gwynn — I had to check, but he won his final of eight National League batting titles in 1997.

After Gwynn retired, he remained a fixture of the San Diego community, coaching the San Diego State University baseball team. He was also a subtle, yet well-regarded presence in the north San Diego County city of Poway where he lived (one of my sisters has stories of trick-or-treating at his house).

To be sure, Gwynn was a great baseball player and one of the greatest hitters of all time. When I look back, I’ll recall those performances and remember his dedication, persistence and enthusiasm at both sport and life.

R.I.P., Tony.

#nbcfail: Complaints about NBC’s Olympics coverage reach new heights

NBC Live bug during Vancouver Games

“Live – NBC” Something West Coast viewers saw only briefly during the 2010 Vancouver Winter Games. For this year’s London games, seeing such a thing may almost be a mirage.

During the Calgary Winter Games in 1988, I remember the announcer for ABC (I want to say Jim McKay) explaining to the audience watching at home how, even though the event was live, there could be brief seconds of delay as the feed is uplinked from Canada and downlinked from orbiting satellites to local stations. I believe the point was that ABC was making was that the coverage was as live as technically possible.

Contrast that with NBC’s coverage of the London Summer Games, where they’re largely sticking with their “If you haven’t seen it, it’s new to you!” mantra. That motto didn’t work for summer reruns in 1997 and it doesn’t work for covering an immense, live sporting event in an age of Facebook and Twitter.

With the London Games fully underway, an old sport of sorts has taken off online — complaining about NBC’s ever-lackluster presentation of the Olympics. As this Associated Press article indicates, critics and supporters alike will point out that this isn’t a new event, but the increasing use of social networking has bolstered criticisms and underscored NBC’s relatively poor broadcasting choices.

Social networking spoils NBC’s tape-delay plans because people around the world are sharing results as they happen. Unless people go out of their way to avoid the results, the results of key competitions are known hours before NBC gets around to broadcasting them over the air.

This was an issue during the Vancouver 2010 Games, but it seems like a much bigger issue today.

I’ve never been shy to criticize NBC’s broadcasting choices, especially those that force West Coast viewers to suffer tape delays for events happening in their time zone (like during Vancouver). In the past, the complaints just seemed to peter out after a while. Not so in London, where comments are shared and added to like flames of a fire.

Thus far, people watching the London Games have taken to using the #nbcfail tag on Twitter to help express their disdain of the coverage. The complaints have been wide-ranging, but have thus far focused on the delayed Opening Ceremonies on Friday and a 7- to 11-hour delay for Saturday’s 400 IM men’s swimming final featuring Ryan Lochte and Michael Phelps.

Sunday’s gripes seem to be less focused, with people carping about a bevy of events delayed into primetime and some tweeting about the reaction to #nbcfail. There’s also a Internet meme where people are jokingly tweeting about NBC’s tape-delayed coverage of historical events.

So what’s the solution? I think the Canadian model works well for a sports fan and a viewer — live coverage whenever possible and highlights when necessary. I’m not sure what current rightsholder CTV is doing, but the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation would only air highlight packages during times when live coverage wasn’t feasible … but after airing the live coverage.

Looking at NBC’s position, they did fork out the dough to air the Games, so they’re obviously in the driver’s seat about their decisions. Their arguments include the fact that they can reach a greater audience and earn more ad dollars by airing taped events in primetime. That seems to be borne out by the record ratings for the first two days of the London Games.

They’ve also made fun of the Canadian model. I remember during the Athens Games in 2004 reading about an NBC producer touting the higher American ratings than their Canadian counterparts.

NBC has also countered critics by saying all the events are streaming live online. I appreciate that effort — although I question how much of an effort it really is, considering that Olympic Broadcasting Services provides feeds of every event anyway. Still, it’s a step up from the Vancouver Games, where most events were kept offline until they aired on the Peacock.

The service was fairly comprehensive during the Beijing Games, but I’m shut out this time — people need to prove they’re paying for an expanded cable or satellite subscription before they can get access. People with rabbit ears on their televisions are shut out.

One final point about NBC that people rarely seem to consider is the fact that NBC isn’t a monolithic network — they have to keep their local affiliates happy. I have no doubt that local stations’ desires to garner the largest audiences is also a factor in NBC’s scheduling. That’s also why I believe local news and key syndicated shows are still shown, despite the huge amount of Olympics events available.

It’s hard to say what the ultimate impact of #NBCfail will be. For now, the ratings tend to support NBC’s decisions regarding the tape-delayed experience they offer television viewers. However, perhaps #NBCfail will continue to point out that this should be a golden era of sports broadcasting and that a significant number of people are aware of better, live offerings than what NBC is serving up.

Opening Ceremonies concerns: While I’m still making my way through an over-stuffed Opening Ceremonies, I have to ding NBC Olympics for its decision to air ads instead of showing the Olympic Oaths (prior to the caldron lighting). Amid all of the symbolism of the Opening Ceremonies, having athletes, coaches and officials swear to the true spirit of sportsmanship is a huge one.

The Age of Australia identified the oath takers as UK taewondo athlete Sarah Stevenson, boxing referee Mik Basi for officials and canoeing coach Eric Farrell.

Also, according to the International Olympic Committee’s guide to Opening Ceremonies (PDF), every ceremony is to include 11 elements. The oaths are three of the elements. NBC should have made time for at least the athletes’ oath.

For the record, the oath for athletes is — “In the name of all competitors I promise that we shall take part in these Olympic Games, respecting and abiding by the rules which govern them, committing ourselves to a sport without doping and without drugs, in the true spirit of sportsmanship, for the glory of sport and the honour of our teams.”

The network was also criticized for airing a pretaped interview instead of showing a portion of the ceremonies commemorating victims of terrorism (particularly the July 7, 2005, attacks in London).