Drinking games and the debates

Last week's presidential debate between Senators McCain and Obama offered nothing new. Rehashed, repetitive yammering masqueraded as rhetoric. Moderator Jim Lehrer asked the same question three times before he received a marginally satisfactory answer. With luck, the vice presidential candidates who square off this evening might provide something which may pass as authentic, issue-oriented clash. That is a bit of a pipe dream, given the absurd tenor of the campaign so far. 

 

That being the case, perhaps television viewers looking for substance can use this bit of political theater as an expedient to drowning the collective sorrows of a nation that ought to be on the verge of revolt. Blank checks to fight foreign wars, mounting debt, a cocked-up bailout plan which holds no one to account for either past failure or for future performance - all cause concern that an elite plutocracy, what William S. Burroughs called, "a closed corporation of desirables," do not have much concern for future generations. Other than a few throw-away lines Saturday Night Live will doubtless carve up for its opening five minutes, this debate will have no watershed moment as Bentsen-Quayle. Without a disruptive third party or independent presence (read Perot), mainstream partisan show business, taking its cues from reality TV rancor, will foul the airwaves. 

 

So, drink up, the way we did in high school, when the taste of cheap vodka or bourbon embedded our faces in masochistic contortions. Each time someone refers to cosmetics, take a shot. Each time Biden fights off a stutter, take a shot. Whenever Palin starts in that catty, nasal rebutting tone of the superior omniscience of folksy, homey types - which is just about always - take a shot. Who knows, perhaps she'll flash some skin to make a point, to raise the stakes, and watch a confused, slightly aroused Joe Biden try to call the bluff. Shoot, anyone who may have been lucky or geeky enough to have debated in college or high school and partaken in a pub round knows the dizzying amusement of either constructing or following a syllogism after having a few drinks.

 

It is hard to pay attention to something important and relevant which is simultaneously absurd. Disaffection in the electorate is palpable, and few in the legislature and executive realize they are running AmericaCorp into the ground. We should be outraged. Instead, lassitude, malaise, and a defeatist realism have precipitated into a further fragmented society resigned to despair. So, fill up your glasses with whiskey and rye, with brandy and wine and see how one of the most inside insiders and one of the most outside outsiders propose we keep flying round the track with the pedal to the floor and not miss a turn. With a bleary-eyed nation looking on, perhaps Joe or Sarah might tap into the public sentiment, get up in front of the microphone, slam a bottle of booze on the podium, and, with a straight face, say, "I ain't starting til someone gets me a glass."

9/23/78

You signal silent, shining, shining sun-dressed girl, the day by the lake, of still water and flowing earth, the wind swept brown, command me to say nothing at all, ever again. I did abide at will, too early though, and your wish now was mine then, though we gave no damn about commands, or dared to utter them at all. So, shining shining, sun-dressed girl, standing firm in plain plane, harrying charges, reflecting dappled light of a long-gone lake, await the ever after of endless bedtime fairy stories, that fathers tell daughters to hasten them to sleep. But, I must abide, without choice, obey. I cannot speak now in right as I did not speak when my command was your wish, your dare. Content, shining, sun-dressed girl live thy nine lives and never hear the end of the story better left unbegun.

Ryder Cup Redux and Prospection

After three days of spectacular play by both sides and a contest closer than the final score indicated, all 24 contestants have much to be proud of. Some surpassed expectations while others did not play so well, and that mixture resulted in triumph for the United States. Several observations about the tournament itself. Both captains proved their skill as strategists. Neither Faldo nor Azinger made any dubious coaching moves, and, consequently, the contestants were put in places to succeed.

 

Arguably, with the American side having four captain's picks to Europe's two, the US held an advantage. Though meritocratic and fair, the points systems each sides use for qualification are imperfect quantitative methods. The two-tiered European and World Points system for Europe allows its top players to play their way on to the team without compromising their own income or commercial interests. America's method of qualifying players based on money is certainly an improvement over the byzantine top-10 based approach. However, the drawback to each approach is that this method does not account for the dozens of ultra-talented international players on both the European and American PGA Tours who finish well and hence reduce the point pool available to players vying for Ryder Cup spots. Thus, determining points ought to have a deflator or inflator relative to the strength of the field in each event. On a theoretical basis, any evolutionary dynamic - biological, economic, social, or political - which is more fluid and adaptable than a comparable system has a greater probability of success. (Since the publication of this post, European Ryder Cup stalwart Colin Montgomerie averred that Europe ought to have 4 wild cards as well).

 

Luckily, golf enthusiasts will remember the 37th Matches for what they were rather than for what they were not or what they ought to have been. Even without the most successful player in the world, the tension of anticipation, quality of play, spirited support, and sportsmanship by both sides surpassed even optimistic expectations. With no shortage of skilled, colorful sportsmen, the future of the game in a sooner rather than later post-Tiger era is not in doubt. Moreover, these matches may be the first watershed moment golf has had since Tiger Woods emerged over eleven years ago. 

 

In the same way that new formats in cricket have broadened the appeal of a staid, conservative sport, these matches knocked some of the dust off of the Royal and Ancient Game. They can serve as a catalyst to examine how to capitalize on such popularity. Perhaps American junior golf programs may stress aspects of team play rather than individual achievement. If anything, Ryder Cup golf is the most fan-friendly, for it can optimize technological innovation cost effectively. It would be expensive to have a camera follow every pairing in a 156 man field, but it would be feasible for broadcasters to have a cameraman follow each match. Such coverage could be sold on a pay-per-view basis over digital and satellite networks. Players may balk at more people inside the ropes, but limits on audio transmission and ever-improving video technology could make such recording unobtrusive to the playing of the match. Also, with soft greens, firm fairways and more than enough greenlight pins, the course set-up encourages aggressive play. Major championship golf has lately been a test against par, but the match play format is perfect for a hit it close style of play. Moreover, with no paychecks on the line, players are more liberal in opening up their arsenals of shots. With millions on the line and a one shot lead down the stretch, a high cut to a draw pin might be an unnecessary shot. However, with a chance to close a guy out, hyper-competitive, skilled golfers will more often that not hit "a shot with balls." 

 

The euphoria of reclaiming the Cup will soon wear off, but three days where everything went right was a brief, welcome escape from a world where lots of things are going wrong. Three days of dignity, pride and professionalism did much to cleanse some of the grubbiness and concern from the collective psyche. 3:1 says Captian Azinger gets a book deal soon. Reserve a copy today. If you need some help writing it, Zinger, here's hope you're reading.