• Published just before this week’s US State Dept. leaks from WikiLeaks, Forbes has an in-depth look at WikiLeaks and the future of data security.
• This NY Times article on port (and the recent decline in consumption) reminds me that it has been too long since I’ve had a nice glass of port after dinner. I used to regularly get a glass at Garçon on 22nd and Guerrero in SF when V and I would pop in for dessert on a weekend evening.
• Carcassone is coming for the iPad this month. This should make Vanessa very happy.
• This is the first detailed story I’ve seen on the Stuxnet virus that someone (the article proposes a consortium of Western intelligence agencies) created and deployed to cripple Iranian centrifuges used in their nuclear program. Fascinating story. Hat tip to Daring Fireball for the link.
• A new life form has been discovered in Mono Lake (by Yosemite) that ”is made of arsenic, something that was thought to be completely impossible.”
• Via Daring Fireball, a great overview of using Google Voice on the iPhone. I’m still holding back from jumping in with both feet on a move to using my GVoice # as my primary number, in part because there are still advantages to the native apps. Also, I tried to start texting via Google Voice and ran into problems receiving replies.
• Is this a joke? Qatar was awarded the 2022 World Cup over the US? WTF. Moving beyond my disappointment that the Cup won’t be here in the States, I don’t think I’ll travel to Qatar for the games. 118 degree temps and no social life in the country? Sign me up. I imagine ticket sales will be really strong, given that US fans bought more tickets than anyone outside of South Africa for the most recent Cup. [/sarcasm] Final complaint: in a warming world, how is it socially conscious for FIFA to endorse a plan that makes the oppressive heat tolerable by air-conditioning outdoor stadium?

In written form, from Spencer Hall of EDSBS fame:

In contrast: Denard Robinson is a barely street legal rally car. There is no backup and there is no guardrail: he rides sliding sideways through defenses never hitting the brakes without a right foot on the gas. He’s covering immense mileage all by his lonesome, more than any other player in FBS football now, leading the nation in rushing with 455 yards and adding 430 yards passing because a one-man play fake leaves wide receivers waving unmolested in empty defensive backfields.

He may suffer for this: unlike [Jeff] Demps [of Florida], he’s got almost no help, and even the stoutest rally car starts to spit parts and rattle down the stretch of a race. Without relief, he’s going to have issues, which is the contemporary word for problems; injury, fatigue, the inability to conjure coverage-snapping runs 15 or 20 times a game.* He’s received no support from Michigan’s running backs. He will face defenses that can hurt people, and when he does they may do what they do so well. This rally car could end up flying roof-first into the forest, just as repeated hits sidelined Pat White for significant playing time late in seasons at WVU.**

*This number is not an exaggeration. Double digits are needed to describe the number of times a three yard run becomes six, or a six yard run becomes twelve, or a twelve yard run ends up as six points and this.

*Robinson is much thicker than White, and will be more durable, but even Tim Tebow got hurt by repeated hits something Michigan fans benefitted greatly from in the 2008 Capital One Bowl. Injury is a given for all quarterbacks.

A sample paragraph:

He sucks, and most things do, but when he dips his toes across into the realm of football they deserve to be chainsawed off at the nearest convenience. The entire song is supposedly about football, but it’s really about how Kenny Chesney should be bound and gagged, bundled into an uninsulated rocket filled with honey badgers, and shot into the sun. Oddly enough, this is what we think every Kenny Chesney song is about. Hm.

DBag alert!

Why? Because the US tied Costa Rica today in the last minute of their final World Cup qualifier in the North and Central America (CONCACAF) group, which, when combined with Honduras’ victory in their own qualifying match today, means that Honduras has qualified for the World Cup. Big news in a small, soccer-mad country, dealing with the aftermath of a military coup earlier this year. The video below is pretty great; check out the “USA! USA” chants at the end (and a guy in a devil mask wearing a US flag as a cape, on a scooter). HT to Grant Wahl (SI soccer writer) via his Twitter feed.

Some photos from the day (click for larger versions):

Siedel and I with our styling fraternity Big Game shirts from 1996 and 1998, respectively. We sold these as fundraisers.

We met up with some old friends, who were also former players, at a tailgate next to the stadium.

Cynthia poses with a Weenie.

I was able to get some good shots of the game action with my telephoto lens.

Recently, some disparate events have come together to make me increasingly uncomfortable with the impact on the brain from extended football playing. Given my position in life, with no role in the NFL or public health decision making processes, this manifests itself in reduced enjoyment when I’m watching football. I have a low-level thought in the background, when I’m not focused on this exciting play or that terrible call, that these players are beating up their own brains with every play and every impact. Each time a pulling tackle slams into a defensive end, the OT’s helmet is protecting his skull, but his brain is hitting the inside of his skull and causing some level of damage.

For some time, I have had similar feelings about the impact of football, but especially extended time in the NFL, on players’ joints and their bodies as a whole. Sports Illustrated has run several commendable articles over the years, profiling retired players who, at 45 or 50, have the bodies of a 65 year-old. That problem is only going to grow worse, despite advances in health care and increased retirement health care and pensions for NFL retirees, because average player weight at nearly all positions has increased dramatically over the decades–every collision is that much more violent. Force = mass x acceleration, after all.

In the last month, my attention has been drawn to the issue of brain health. The first trigger was a tremendous GQ article on efforts by a small group of scientists to study the brains of deceased NFL players, and their tussle with the NFL and its concussions committee (which was not headed by a neurologist for most of its existence…) regarding the scientists’ published conclusions. It is a very disheartening article, not only in the NFL’s fingers-in-the-ears level of denial, but the way in which it treats terribly ill former players. Unfortunately, that is not the first time the latter issue has come to light; a group of former players has waged a major campaign against both the NFL and the NFL Players Association, under former player (and recently deceased) Gene Upshaw’s direction, to obtain benefits that they believe are rightfully theirs–amounts that are miniscule compared to the revenues and profits generated every year in today’s NFL.

Among the more enlightening aspects of the article is the discussion of the impact on an offensive lineman’s brain on every single snap, as he initiates his block with his head. Up to this point, I have thought of concussions as the result of a blind-side hit that lays out a quarterback, or what happens when you run a crossing route across the middle of the field and Ronnie Lott or Steve Atwater arrives to separate you from the ball, or a situation where your head directly hits a hard object (see: Tim Tebow, below, in which the back of his head struck another player’s knee). Those dramatic impacts are frightening and have clear consequences: the player laid out on the field, perhaps unconscious, while the training staff attends to him and the broadcast cuts to commercial. Less evident are the accumulated impacts on every play for the offensive and defensive linemen, the linebackers, the safeties, the running backs. It seems that we are learning that playing long enough means those “routine” impacts will harm your brain as much as the clear-cut concussions.

A second trigger is the concussion suffered by Tim Tebow, reigning college player of the year, circumciser of Filipino youths and all-around good guy, who returned to the University of Florida for his senior year and another national title. Tebow is as high profile a player as one can find in the college game, so the discussion around Tebow’s concussion and when he should return to action has been illuminating and has brought a welcome focus on this issue in both mainstream sports media and the blogosphere. My take: Florida was perhaps aggressive bringing Tebow back for this week’s game against LSU, given that the brain is a mysterious object and it is best to err on the side of caution (although of course I have no medical expertise and no access to Tebow for medical review, caveat caveat).

Now Malcolm Gladwell, best-selling author and New Yorker columnist, has written an article on the subject. I can only hope that the more attention is paid to these issues, the better the outcomes will be for players. Perhaps they will not be rushed back to playing too early, because of ignorance and a gladiator’s code. But better medical care and awareness cannot take away the cumulative impact of these collisions.

————-
Note: the video above is of Owen Schmitt, former West Virginia Mountaineer, current Seattle Seahawk. His willingness to lead with his head to clear running space reminds me of former Detroit Lion fullback Cory Schlesinger. I shudder to think how many concussions Schlesinger received–if it was merely one for every time he struck something so hard with his helmet that his forehead bled, a la Schmitt in the video, then he would have multiple concussions for his career.

Unfortunately, this game was not such a special occasion. The atmosphere at the Net is never great, given the football-centric stadium and the cruddy location (surrounded by parking lots in southern Oakland! yeah!). Last night, it failed to meet even my meager expectations. The claimed attendance was 10,000 fans and change, but I’m not sure they even hit that. Despite closing off the upper deck for baseball, the Net still felt empty. I imagine on a big night (such as when the Giants visit during interleague play), the concourses are abuzz, but last night half of the concession stands were closed.

Tigers fans were out in force, hoping for a good effort after a disappointing weekend series against Houston. Our section in the bleachers was about 50% Tigers supporters. ‘Twas not to be, as the hitters left their bats at the hotel and rookie pitching phenom Rick Porcello laid an egg. After the sun set, a cold wind rolled in, such that we could have been across the bay at PacBell. Final score, 7-1 A’s.

My evening ended with a BART ride home, made surprisingly interesting by a random old guy that started chatting me up on the Coliseum BART platform, apparently because I had on a Tigers cap. He used to live in Detroit, etc. and loved to prattle on about different cities where he had seen Detroit sports teams play.

Finis.