Tennis: Del Potro's 2009 US Open Victory Speech

Woo hoo for Del Potro. That was an amazing victory over Federer. A victory he had every right to savor. Which he did - in spite of a miserly Dick Enberg, the CBS Sports commentator and host of the prize ceremony.

For those who weren't able to watch the match's concluding moments, Del Potro dutifully answered Enberg's questions. Half-way into the rather embarrassing recitation (by Enberg) of the dollar amounts Del Potro had won and the names of the sponsors who had funded the prizes, the 20-year-old asked to say something in Spanish. Enberg brushed him off saying that there was no time left and promptly continued his way down the list. I'm not really sure how there could have been no time. What if the match had gone on a few games longer?

A few seconds later Del Potro repeated his request. Enberg then launched into an explanation of what Del Potro would do (really, who needed the explanation?) and reluctantly tipped the microphone toward Del Potro, who proceeded to, as far as I could make out, thank his vociferous Argentinian fan-contingent in the stands and tip his hat to Guillermo Vilas.

It was short, very sweet and so heartfelt. Those few moments rounded out a great run at the US Open for an up-and-coming tennis star. I wish Enberg - who has been around the block few times in these situations - had been a bit more magnanimous. Yes, we, the TV audience, get to watch the match courtesy the sponsors, but really the sponsors and the audience are there because of the players. May they please have their moment?

Update: Fixed the spelling of Vilas' name and added a Wikipedia link to Vilas, South America's only other US Open champ.

Update 2 (09/15/09): Link to CBS video of Enberg-Del Potro exchange. Note that they don't have the portion where Del Potro makes his request to address the audience in Spanish. Also note there are ads in the video with (briefly) language that is not office or kid-friendly.

Update 3 (09/16/09): Thanks to BPSK for this video of the relevant portion of the Del Potro-Enberg exchange:

CBS defends Enberg's performance:

“Dick had a number of elements that he had to get through on a very tight schedule,” said LeslieAnne Wade, the senior vice president for communications for CBS. “It was Dick’s job to get through those as quick as he could. And in the end, he did give him the opportunity to make his comments.”

Michael Jackson and The Yearning for Normal

When I was in middle school and high school back in India, Sundays were welcomed with great anticipation for a couple of different reasons. It was the one day of the week there was no school (Saturdays were half-days); Sundays meant family get-togethers; Sundays meant free-wheeling, no-destination-in-mind trips with my dad; Sundays also meant half an hour of 'Western Music' programs on TV. Other than the annual Grammy telecasts - days late and always in the dead of the night on a Saturday - Sunday mornings were our only window into what was happening in the music world in the US and the UK.

And so we saw and heard ABBA, BoneyM, Michael Jackson, the Bee Gees, the Beatles. We had cassette tapes of these artists that we listened to on a single-speaker 'Two-in-One,' but being able to watch them on our small television screen was quite something else. When the Grammys rolled around, we were familiar with a mere one or two of the nominated artists, but who cared?

Of all the Michael Jackson songs, I only knew three of them back then - Billie Jean, Beat It!, and Thriller. I could not for the life of me figure out Thriller. I did not know why they were in a graveyard, I did not know why the man laughed that maniacal laugh in the end. I did not know all of the words to Beat It! or Billie Jean. I don't think I know them even now. But I loved the beat, the energy, the confidence, and the absolute certainty of Jackson's dance steps and actions. He knew what he was doing and it was thrilling to watch him do it so well. When I finished listening to the songs, I felt pumped up, inspired, I was amazed that someone not too much older than me was so successful.

Little did I know that the success came at a price so huge as to be incalculable. I had no clue about the backstory.

It was only when I moved to the US that I realized he had siblings, that there was something called the Jackson 5. I pieced together the story from TV specials and magazine articles. Over and over, one concept popped up repeatedly in the media coverage of Neverland, the child molestation charges, the dangling of the child through the window - his yearning for a normal childhood. Although I noticed it at the time, it did not resonate with me at all. Why would anyone want a normal childhood if he was so obviously talented and could be so successful? A normal childhood was boring. It was infinitely more exciting to be able to travel the world, to have millions of fans hanging on to your every step, to be so rich.

That was many years ago. Now, with children of my own, I have an understanding of normal and not-normal childhoods. Being a wife and mother, having lived away from my parents for a number of years and having had the opportunity to see a lot of lives up close has put my own childhood in perspective.

And yesterday, when my husband first told me that Michael Jackson was in a coma and moments later I saw on the news that he was dead, and this morning as I've been reading website after website covering his life and death and music, my mind raced back - longingly - to those days so far away in my past when my brother and I danced our crazy steps to his music, when we wondered who Billie Jean was, when we would race to lower the volume on the TV or on the music player when we heard our dad clearing his throat disapprovingly and tried to explain but failed hopelessly when our parents asked what this kind of music was all about.

As one of the commenters to this Coates essay put it, I, and a lot of others, are homesick.

Do you see the irony in this? On hearing of the death of a music icon who did not have the sort of upbringing that would have inspired feelings of homesickness in him - whose lack of a normal childhood gave millions of us the music that colored our growing years - my first thoughts were of my own childhood homes, of the various living rooms and bedrooms in which we played his music, of my parents and of my brother, of my cousins and uncles who indulged us by buying us music.

Thank you for the music and the memories, Michael. R.I.P.

The Newsweek Oprah Story: What Do Celebrities Owe Us?

Newsweek carries a scathing article in its latest edition, about Oprah and the 'bad', 'wrong', 'risky' health advice she dishes on her daily TV show:

Her viewers follow her guidance because they like and admire her, sure. But also because they believe that Oprah, with her billions and her Rolodex of experts, doesn't have to settle for second best. If she says something is good, it must be.

This is where things get tricky. Because the truth is, some of what Oprah promotes isn't good, and a lot of the advice her guests dispense on the show is just bad. The Suzanne Somers episode wasn't an oddball occurrence. This kind of thing happens again and again on Oprah. Some of the many experts who cross her stage offer interesting and useful information (props to you, Dr. Oz). Others gush nonsense. Oprah, who holds up her guests as prophets, can't seem to tell the difference. She has the power to summon the most learned authorities on any subject; who would refuse her? Instead, all too often Oprah winds up putting herself and her trusting audience in the hands of celebrity authors and pop-science artists pitching wonder cures and miracle treatments that are questionable or flat-out wrong, and sometimes dangerous.

Yes, Oprah is popular. Wildly so. Yes, she has a broad-based, ardent following for her TV show. Yes, the things she recommends on her show have the habit of flying off the shelves (or whatever the equivalent is on Amazon). But does any of this mean that she owes anything to her audience other than being honest when she says she tried such and such product or when she says she loved the book she picked for her book club?

I am not an expert on Oprah. I watch clips from her shows off and on and read her and about her in magazines and on websites. From what I've seen and read, she comes across as the person who is enthusiastic about certain things (some ideas, some products, some services) and uses her show - a vehicle and brand she created from scratch and built to dish on her view of life and its struggles - to talk about them. That a million people rush off buy the thing she mentions on the show - what exactly does it require her to do? Worry that her audience might use the information blindly without investigating it further for themselves? Should she be responsible for the actions of her audience?

This is a question I've asked before in relation to the Phelps marijuana fiasco. Just because a celebrity is good at something and they make money off of it or are popular because of it, does it mean that they should be on their best behaviour, do the right things and say the right things?

The Newsweek article places a litany of demands on Oprah's show. A sampling:

""Because of the power and influence that Oprah's show has, she should make an extra effort to be clear."" (Comment on a show about the HPV vaccine.)

"Oprah said almost nothing about possible risks." (Comment on a show about 'thread-lifting'.)

"Fanning believes Oprah should have made it clear that Thermage isn't for everyone."

Which leads me to believe that the audience has no responsibility for its own actions, that her viewers are gullible and unquestioning, that they will swallow every piece of advice that tumbles out of her mouth without assessing the pros and cons for their specific circumstances and health conditions. Is this really so? If that is the case, then Oprah and other celebrities like her are standing at the top of a very long, slippery slope. Which one of her audience members should she worry about? The ones that do not understand that medical or cosmetic procedures involve risks? The ones that do not get that medicines may have side effects? The ones that do not know enough to ask if such and such procedure is right for them? The ones that will refuse vaccinations for their children because Jenny McCarthy said so and she was on Oprah's show? Where do you start and where do you stop?

The article gives off a whiff of wanting to take the contrarian view just because. The complaints against the show appear lame and the authors and the experts they consult indulge in some heavy patronizing. The recommendations for alterations to Oprah's show (listing a procedure's side effects, introducing experts who take the opposite view on the medication being discussed, among other things) are great - if you are a C-SPAN show or a medicine ad that must follow the Federal Trade Commission rules or one of those public TV channels that no one watches. Not if you are Oprah and all you are selling is escapism in doses of an hour a day and the idea that we are all in the same boat (so what if she is super rich and super connected and super famous while most of her audience is thoroughly entrenched in the middle class?), and believe strongly in stories about wanting to be the best you can be.

So let's hang back and take Oprah's health advice with a pinch of salt. As we should. And as I'm sure she would want her audience to.

Updated June 2: Changed 'author' to 'authors' in the penultimate paragraph. The Newsweek article is credited to two writers.

Steelers vs. Cardinals: The fireworks don't wait for half-time

They come about one minute ahead of schedule.

The Superbowl is being watched with a tad more intensity than usual at home this year. Reprieve from a whole week's worth of homework is on the line if the Steelers win. C's teacher is a big fan. So guess who we're rooting for. All that intense watching and praying seems to have paid off.

Cardinals are within inches of a touchdown. Harrison for the Steelers intercepts Warner's pass and starts running to the other end. He, whose sole purpose on the field is to hit the living daylights out of the opposing team - and is built for that job - runs the full length of the field and scores a touchdown, and promptly collapses under the sheer weight of that effort. Turns out he was a bit winded but all right. It is always a delightful sight to watch defenders do the offence's work. Especially joyful when he does the ballet in full combat gear to escape the desperate clutches of an offence that suddenly finds itself defending. Somewhat like the tailender scoring a century on the last day of a cricket match to force a draw just as the other side thought it had victory all sewn up.

Did you ever wonder if...

George from Enid Blyton's Famous Five series was gay? If you did, here's some insight:

Tricky. As one of the two girls in the Famous Five stories, George wore boy's
clothes, had boy's hair and wandered around saying “I want to be a boy”. Still,
any sort of subsequent homosexual or transgender adulthood seems unlikely. For
one thing, in the 2008 television series Famous 5: On the Case the adult George
is happily married to a car mechanic called Ravi. For another, this is Enid
Blyton we are talking about, and she was about as socially progressive as
Bernard Manning.

A car mechanic called Ravi? Does anyone know anything about this series?

Via The Daily Dish, which points to the main article titled "Of course Tintin's gay. Ask Snowy."

Nine Innings from Ground Zero

If you get a chance to see this HBO documentary, please do. It's the story of the Yankees baseball games in the aftermath of 9/11 and how the game riveted a city and diverted their attention, even if only for a few precious hours, from the horror of the carnage a few blocks away.

With interviews of the players, the fans, the people who lost loved ones on 9/11 and of city officials, the footage and the raw emotions spilling over from the stands on to the diamond are just riveting. I found the program by accident this morning and was hooked.

Information, background and broadcast schedules can be found on HBO's website.

The New Ikea Ad - Something's Not Right

I've seen Ikea's new ad campaign a few times now. The first time I saw it I thought I didn't hear it right or perhaps my eyes deceived me, but the next time around there was no mistaking it.

The central idea of the ad is the notion of home. Here's the blurb from Ikea's website:

IKEA believes that homes are not just made of bricks and mortar with four walls. Home is an emotion - a feeling of security, safety, comfort, peace, about being yourself and being together with your loved ones. Home is the place where memories are made, relationships are built, where children and families grow together. IKEA believes that regardless of where you live or who you are, home is the most important place in the world.

It's a wonderful idea, for sure. Evokes warm feelings. Who doesn't like the idea of home?

The problem is with the visuals in its TV ad. The ad contains pictures of various types of homes - apartments, single-family homes, a horse trailer, a house perched on the edge of a spectacular cliff, a boathouse, farmhouse, a tent in a desert. It also has a shot of a structure fashioned out of rags, plastic sheets and paper on the back of an old, abandoned car. Right at that point, the grating, all-knowing voice-over intones,

...because wherever you are, whoever you are, home is the most important place in the world.

I don't know the jargon, but this is one of those feel-good ads that's supposed to evoke favorable feelings in the viewer about the company. It does not directly sell a product. But it's Ikea. You know exactly what they are selling. And the point is, whoever lives in that contraption of rags and metal and paper is homeless. They don't have a place they can call their own in this whole wide world. They probably can't afford even the cheapest of Ikea's formidably low-priced products. Even if they could, they would have no place to put it. No, they are not secure, safe, at peace or comfortable. They are probably on someone else's land, living in fear that at any point they might be thrown out.

The ad was pleasant enough when it started out. Some of the shots are visually stunning. But by the end, it left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

Here's the ad from Ikea's website (you will need RealPlayer).

I tried to find the ad on YouTube. They don't have the version they are playing here in the US, but they do have this:

Love Amid Cables and Cameras

My strongest memory of my maternal grandmother is of her making kaai obbattus in her small, dark kitchen at her home on 5th main in Mysore's Saraswathipuram. Avva was generally very good with her hands. In addition to making all the snacks for all the festivals herself (including Kadubus, chaklis and kodubales), she groomed a beautiful and well-kept garden with two tall coconut trees, a Sampige flower tree, lots of rose bushes, daria and other flower plants, a papaya tree, a bountiful karbevu tree (curry leaves) and assorted vegetables.

The time not spent in the kitchen or the garden was taken up in crafting lovely garlands from strands of cotton and cotton balls, sequins, and foil paper of a myriad colors - gold, red, blue, green, silver. These garlands were in great demand during the Gowri and Ganesha festival. When not in use, Avva would carefully wrap them and put them away until the next festival came around.

She continued her craft activities when my grandfather retired and they moved to Bangalore to be closer to their children. One day, she received an offer to appear on Doordarshan to demonstrate her skill with the cotton garlands. She was ticked pink and she promptly accepted.

A few days later, a Doordharshan crew descended on their house - complete with cameras, sound equipment, lights, microphones and cables. The program's host, a young girl, smartly dressed in a starched cotton saree, took Avva aside to prep her, and they both sat down to talk to get comfortable with each other, while the producer busied himself with the lights and camera placement.

It didn't take long before half the neighborhood had found comfortable perches around the living room where the equipment was being set up. Soon it was time to start recording. The producer gave the host some last minute instructions, found a chair to sit in, and the host and Avva went before the cameras and the lights came on.

The host looked at the producer for her cue. He nodded and she turned to my grandmother. Avva looked back with a smile on her face and waited for the host to say her first few words, the cameras or the people crowding around not fazing her one bit. If she was expecting the host to reciprocate her smile, it wasn't coming. The girl was busy freaking out. She opened and closed her mouth a few times but there was no sound. She cleared her throat and tried again, but to no avail. She looked helplessly at the producer.

I don't remember him yelling, "Cut!" but it must have been some equivalent, because the next thing I remember is the producer taking the host out to the driveway to have a quiet chat with her. He looked intently into her face and said some things and she nodded a few times. Then they came back in.

This time around, the voice came out, but it came out all shaky and high-pitched. Avva, ever the smooth operator, pretended nothing was out of the ordinary and responded to the question. After about 10 minutes of the high-pitched queries delivered in a trembling voice, the producer and the host were back on the driveway. By this time, the host was sweating bullets. Avva thoughtfully arranged for a glass of water before they returned.

The cameras came back on and the orchestra of the host's problems kept building. Shaky hands made an appearance this time around. Because both the people in front of the camera had to point frequently to what was being shown to the audience, this proved to be rather irksome. The producer continued recording. He probably believed that if they kept going, the host would loosen up and shed her anxiety.

He believed wrong.

Things went from bad to worse and before long, they were out on the driveway again. We wondered what the problem was. She was not a newbie, she'd hosted a few of these shows before. Was it the people crowding around?

This particular break was a tad longer than the others and Avva seized the opportunity to stretch her legs. She walked over to us and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "They are in love."

"What?"

"They are in love. That's why she's nervous."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The camera guy just told me."

Seemed like a weird explanation for the host's affliction to me, but perhaps it was tough to be under the lights and work within 10 feet of the guy everyone knew you were in love with.

Meredith Vieira Moves On

There's a lovely story about Meredith Vieira in last weekend's New York Times Magazine. Here is a snippet.

Her repeated insistence that there was no paycheck big enough, no title prestigious enough, to give up her home life has made her a heroine to viewers who pay attention to such things.

[...]

Vieira is careful to say she does not think less of women who were more willing to leave home than she was and even allows that maybe she is "a little extreme" in her desire to be with her children. "The juggling act just never worked for me," she says now. "Maybe it was the three miscarriages, so all I was thinking about was a healthy baby, or maybe it’s just who I am, but I never wanted to prove I could be macho. And I was quite successful not proving that, wasn’t I?"

There are no universal solutions that fit all families when it comes to managing two careers and children. Some want to juggle both career and children, some don't, some need to juggle both career and children, some don't. Each family has to decide for itself what is best. One is not better than the other, one is not morally superior than the other. What is important is that we recongnize what works for us and we do it, as Vieira seems to have done and is doing.

The only show I remember seeing her on is "The View" which I enjoyed watching. I liked what I saw of her on the show. She was irreverent, seemed comfortable in her skin.

Please do read the whole thing (I think it requires free registration).

Indian Blogs Slam TV Coverage of Mumbai Blasts

Right from the time the story of the Mumbai blasts of Tuesday, July 11 broke, it was the headliner in all of the Indian television channels. As it should be. From the coverage, it was quite obvious that television camera and crew managed to get to the blast sites much quicker than any of the emergency or law and order personnel in the city.

TV channels also became conduits for sending and receiving messages through text messaging at a time when calling facilities on cell phone networks and landlines were down. Scores of people succeeded in reaching their families and friends and satisfying themselves that they were all right. For this, the channels deserve kudos.

In times of crisis, citizens turn to television channels for news and information quite automatically. What with all the technological innovations, satellite systems, on site broadcasting systems, etc., and more importantly, with the onset of 24-hour news channels, it is becoming the norm that television channels stick with a story not for minutes or hours, but for days on end, sending reporters to chase down and present each tiny new bit of information (which is then duly "flashed" at the bottom of the screen under the monicker "breaking news").

But when does this coverage cross the line? When does it all become too much? What are the situations in which media channels should exercise restraint and say, "This much and no more?"

Going by the voices in the Indian blogosphere that have spoken over the past three days on this issue, it appears that the Indian television channels did cross the line in their coverage of the Mumbai blasts.

The complaints fall into two broad categories:

• Television channels exercising no restraint when it came to showing gory images of broken bodies and bloodied body parts; and


• Anchors and reporters harping on the "exclusivity" of the images shown on their television channel and plugging the fact that their images were being shown worldwide.

Mumbai Help quite simply asks that the display of mangled bodies on television be stopped. Kishore at All in a Day's Work writes about the television coverage of the Mumbai blasts and of the death of Suryanarayana, the Indian engineer kidnapped and executed by the Taliban in Afghanistan,

Media is in the business of generating revenues. It's the bottom line which matters. And anything that creates a sensation, sells. Anything that demonstrates a conflict, sells. Anything that gets glorified, sells. Anything that instills a fear, sells. Conflict sells. Peace is boring.

Mridula at Travel Tales from India, horrified at the gory images she saw on television no matter what channel she turned to, put up links to blogs that had already written about the issue and appealed to other bloggers to blog about it as well,

If you turn on the TV it is all over the place. No, I do not mean the news. I mean showing the dead bodies of the blast victims with scant regard for human dignity. I think here is one small issue where we, the people who blog can make a small difference.

I have an appeal for you. If you blog and if you feel strongly about the way Indian news channels (almost all) are beaming the images of the dead, blog about it. If enough number of people do it, someone somewhere has to take notice. We have done it before and if we care about it we can do it again. I am willing to aggregate as many links as possible on this issue along with this post.

From her post and from some of the comments left there, here are a couple of the voices. Please do read the rest of her post.

Pooja Agarwal at Travel Memoirs comments on Zee TV's coverage,

They were actually showing dead bodies lying on the track and injured people being dragged to rescue. Even sitting this far from my country, I could not help but feel for everyone back home who were probably seeing these images continuously and how disturbing they must be for everyone.

Insane Mind writes on the crassness that pervaded the coverage,

The media coverage of the terrorist attack and its aftermath was crass, to say the least. I had watched the news channels for a long time, getting number, seeing the same gruesome images being aired over and over again. The media has lost its control, and its humanity.

Of all television channels and anchors, the choicest brickbats seem to be reserved for CNN/IBN and its head Rajdeep Sardesai.

I was bemused at first and then dismayed at the importance CNN/IBN was giving to its own (in its view) pre-eminence in the Indian television field. I was aware of Sardesai's tendency to puff up with self-importance in the presence of celebrities (his interview with Imran Khan and Kapil Dev was painful to watch at times), but it took on rather alarming proportions on Tuesday night.

Emma questions the need for gore and writes that such displays end up disrespecting the dead. Buchu found Sardesai's coverage annoying. Sumankumar simply says, "Rajdeep Sardesai takes this opportunity to sing praises on his channel CNN-IBN." News describes CNN/IBN's bloody coverage,

Rajdeep was anchoring from one of the bombed first class coaches. He kept on pointing at and showing blood splashed window glasses of the train for a good 10 minutes. As if this was not enough, what followed were blood smeared bodies of injured people. Then there were limbs and other body parts of the dead on the platforms and rail tracks. Blood blood and more blood.

Gaurav Sabnis at Vantage Point notes,

7:42 - Rajdeep Sardesai on CNN-IBN - "These pictures are now being beamed on all CNN networks all over the world. Indians all over the world watching CNN are now watching CNN-IBN. This is the power of CNN-IBN". Yes Rajdeep, we are very proud of you. Your timing for patting yourself on the back is admirable.

Amit Varma at India Uncut berates Sardesai for bragging about "how 'this is the power of a global news organisation. These pictures are going out across the world thanks to CNN-IBN.'"

Starship Enterprise presents an alternative view. Writing in response to Mridula's post, he/she writes that displaying the gore stemming from terrorist attacks such as the Mumbai blasts is necessary for a reality check,

Bloodshed is a excruciatingly real image of a bomb blast. To skim over it like it didn't exist would be to overlook the reality and cower in a safe corner of comfort. We, who are fortunate enough to be alive, should not shy away from gory images because they shock our complacent sensibilities.

Pradeep Nair, commenting on Kishore's post writes that viewers, sitting in the comfort of their living rooms, have the wrong idea about journalists and the work they do,

I am a journalist and I must admit, on occasions, we do get carried away by events. So, constantly we have to remind ourselves to be restrained. This is most apparent in the case of the TV, much less on the radio; and to some extent in the print. This "getting carried away" phenomenon is nothing new. Only that in this TV era, it is so much more visible to the common person.

One reason for the wrong perception is, I feel, the journalist is there right at the spot, in the thick of events… while the viewer or reader is in the comforts of the home. It’s only natural viewers react the way they do. But it will be good, if they understand that facts are different.

There is one point few people realise: The very things that make people view a programme are precisely the things that they don’t like. It's ironic, but true. Take the punch or the most captivating aspect out of the programme or article, you won't watch it or read it. Then, no criticism, no applause.

BongoPundit has an excellent post/round-up on media and the Mumbai blasts in general. Sepia Mutiny comments on the deafening silence in the western blogosphere, and Curious Gawker points to the inane commentary at one of the few non-Indian blogs that did write about the blasts. Please do read.

What are your thoughts on the role of media at times such as these? How much is too much and do viewers really need to see every last detail, no matter how graphic, of every story? Is this a function of the 24/7 news cycle?

If you notice other blogs on this issue, please do leave the link in the comments section.

Update:

Here is Vijay's take on the issue:

Just as I was seeing some gory pictures on the television, it struck me I should write a post, condemning these cowardly and dastardly acts. But then I thought, am I not doing the same mistake what the media is doing ? Just that I am sensationalising through a medium which is still in its nascent stages of growth. I realised, getting hits on your blog is similar to having more TRP for your new channel. That, I guess is what human nature is, opportunism, which is not wrong, but at times of tragedy, not the right thing. But this post is only to pray for the bereaved souls and to give solidarity to all Mumbaikars.

I again come to the point about the media, and its opportunistic nature. It's all fine to provide helpline numbers and provide sms service to stranded people. But it is not fine to telecast pictures of mayhem and death on national television.

CNN/IBN Pats Itself Repeatedly on Its Back

CNN/IBN cannot get over itself. In the middle of the coverage of the Mumbai blasts, Rajdeep Sardesai could not prevent himself from repeatedly reminding his viewers (and at one point, his reporter as well) that the images were being carried live on CNN world wide. He was practically salivating over the fact that one of his reporters happened to be on one of the trains on which the blasts occurred and couldn't stop smiling at this stroke of fortune.

Who cares if CNN/IBN's images are being shown all over the world? Oooh, wait a minute. Perhaps he was addressing his advertisers and not the worried viewers who had tuned in to get some useful information.

Penalty Shoot-outs: Not for the Faint Hearted

All I can say is that it's a good thing the semi-final encounter between Italy and Germany was settled in extra time (Italy 2, Germany 0). Because I don't think I could have watched a penalty shoot-out if there was one.

I used to be one of those people who could watch a penalty shoot-out with a mind of steel and a hardened heart. It was part of the game and I rationalized it on the thought that since the same set of rules applied to both teams, it was perfectly all right to decide a game via penalties.

Of course, that rationale still holds true, but my approach to the shoot-out changed drastically as I watched the duel at midnight between England and Portugal.

I was perfectly fine during the Germany-Argentina shoot-out a couple of nights earlier. In fact, I sat there on my couch prodding N, who had dozed off, to stay awake in the waning hours of that Friday so he could watch it as well. We tried to guess who would miss and who would score. I was right on the money with the Ayala miss (more than guessing right, I was hoping he would miss given the way he was manhandling Ballack during extra time).

The Germany-Argentina shootout was enjoyable, the England-Portugal one was not.

The sense of unease began at the end of extra time. The match referee, Elizando, was waiting for something. But what? Players seemed to get increasingly nervous as the clock ticked away. The two goal-keepers, Robinson and Ricardo, after receiving last minute instructions from their coaches, walked up to each other, held each other at arm's length and exchanged a few words, wishing each other well, I presume.

They were suddenly in the limelight, no longer just another player in the team, forlorn at their ends of the field. They were it, now, the cynosure of all eyes, the names in the prayers of their team mates, the hero or the villain, depending on the result, although it seems like a hopeless task to stop a football from sneaking to the infinite number of corners within the posts of a goal.

The players were pacing around trying to get into their team huddles. Simao, the first Portuguese striker to take a shot walked around in the penalty area, spitting on the green grass. Robinson took a few swigs from a water bottle, then spat a few times as well. The crowd was going wild, chanting, booing, whistling. Little lightning bugs seemed to be swarming the stadium as camera flashes popped with undying frequency.

The English coaching staff was in its own huddle, but the Portuguese coaching staff was entwined with the players in their huddle. The tension was palpable. Camera close-ups showed sweaty brows; foreheads creased with worry lines; some eyes fierce in their determination; some eyes unfocused, not knowing where to look, many choosing to look down on the ground; even trembling fingers as the ball was nudged onto the perfect spot on the circular white chalk mark across from the goal.

Finally it was time. Elizando walked up to Robinson, gave him a reassuring (at least I felt reassured) pat on the arm walked away from the goal to about midway between the striker and the goal-keeper and blew the whistle. Simao did a little two-step with his feet, perhaps trying to throw off the goal-keeper with the false motion, ran up confidently to the ball and the punched it into the left corner. He scored.

Next up, Lampard for the English team. The commentator supplied a little nugget of information that did not bode well for Lampard. He had missed a penalty against Hungary two years ago. "Surely, he won't disappoint," intoned the commentator. Lampard positioned the ball, walked back, ran up slowly, almost as if he was dragging his feet, and picked the right corner of the goal to kick the football into. Ricardo read Lampard perfectly, both the nervousness on his face (surely Ricardo's research must have brought up Lampard's past failures) and his placement of the ball. He lunged to his left and saved Portugal a goal. Gerard, Lampard's team mate could not hide his disappointment as he grimaced in reaction.

Hugo Viana up next for the Potuguese, with the opportunity to go up 2-0 against the English. Another little nugget of information from the commentator. "England have never won a World Cup penalty shootout." Uh. Oh. Viana looked good to go, confident, but to no avail. He even spared Robinson from having to save a goal, ramming the ball into the goal post. England had a reprieve.

After three penalty shots, the score was still 1-0 in Portugal's favor. Hargreaves got ready to take England's next shot, spending some time trying to get the ball right on the chalk mark, fingers trembling. But he did his job and England was back in the game. Not for lack of Ricardo trying though. He had guessed the general direction of Hargreaves' kick, but could not stretch himself far enough.

The minute the camera focused on Petit, who was going to take the next shot for Portugal, you knew he wasn't going to make it. Nervousness writ large on his face, he did not look at anyone or anything but the ball. Robinson had his one save of the entire shootout. Petit's face crumpled as he walked away, eyes glazed over.

Following this, the rest of the shoot-out settled into a pattern. A confident Ricardo, an inept Robinson, an English side shaking in its boots and a by now cocky Portuguese side meant there could be only one result - Portuguese victory over the English. Ricardo was right on the money with his lunges to save goals from Carragher and Gerard's shots. Robinson was left stranded as Postiga and Cristiano Ronaldo found the net. Carragher's little snafu (he jumped the gun and kicked the ball even before Elizando had blown the whistle) reinforced just how jittery the English side was.

The half-smile that played over Ronaldo's face before he took his shot gave some indication of just how much the young striker was loving the whole experience. A few quiet steps after he landed the ball in the goal, he vented his energy in a full-blown war cry as Scolari gave him company with a war dance on the field, quite appropriate for a coach who swears by Chinese General Sun Tzu's book, Art of War.

Come penalty shoot-out time, the Portuguese were clearly the aggressors, the English merely trying to hang on to their confidence, which had already taken a hit when Rooney was sent off with a red card.

Ricardo said it best,

I could see in the eyes of the English players that they were not okay.... The goal was shrinking for them. I just had to prolong their suffering.

Perhaps it was all this fear that made watching that shoot-out a nerve wracking experience. Perhaps with two confident teams it won't be so bad.

Perhaps there is hope, yet.

Desperate Wives Coming to India!

Having missed the last season of the Sopranos and not being able to see new seasons of Deadwood, Six Feet Under, etc., I was wringing my hands at the prospect of having to sit on the sidelines and watch the whole Desperate Wives phenomenon unfolding in the US in my absence.

However, I just learnt that Star World will start broadcasting this latest TV craze in India in a few days. Yahoooo!