Man, am I sick of people who get offended on behalf of a group they don’t belong to, projecting their own phony outrage on the group members and their own biases on non-group members.
In light of the poll results, non-Native American opponents of the Redskin name seem to have changed their position slightly to say that Native Americans are in fact being offended but are too dumb to realize it.
I was walking west on Durant crossing Telegraph a block south of the UC Berkeley campus (see map below) when I saw a couple of good-looking yellow labs, probably less than a year old, crossing in the other direction.
I was so focused on the dogs that I didn’t notice until I had passed them that they were being walked by none other than the chancellor of the university, Nicholas B. Dirks, and his wife.
Gee, I wish I had gotten a photo with him but rather than run back across the street after him like a nut, I walked north to Bancroft and turned right to parallel the way he was walking on Durant. At the next street, Bowditch, I turned right again toward Durant to see if I could intercept him, which I did.
I’m staying at the Berkeley Lab Guest House, a university facility . . . when I got back to the place, I showed my Dirks photo to the guy at the front desk.
“Recognize this guy?” I asked. “Not me, the other guy.”
Does anyone have a more useless job than “bracketologist” Joe Lunardi? He spends the entire college basketball season forecasting tournament seedings: this team’s in, this team’s out, this team’s on the bubble, this team is going to be seeded number whatever . . .
Then the season ends and the actual tournament seedings are announced, making all of Joe Lunardi’s work meaningless. Either the actual seedings line up closely with Joe Lunardi’s predictions or they don’t, but other than Joe Lunardi, who cares?
The committee’s performance is slipping, year over year, and it’s my job to point that out when necessary. . . . what you have is a selection and bracketing process that appears to have gone off the rails.
Actually Joe, your job, if I understand it correctly, is to accurately forecast the results of the selection committee. It’s not the job of the selection committee to match your predictions. And if your predictions don’t match the actual selections, that doesn’t indicate that the selection committee sucks, it indicates that you suck.
You probably know people like Cam Newton, co-workers maybe, who like to call attention to themselves — Look at me! Look what I did! — and like to rub your nose in it when things aren’t going well for you.
I don’t like people like that.
I don’t think a choreographed activity has to take place every time you make a first down. I saw a game this year where Newton threw a screen pass to a receiver, who ran 50 yards with it for a touchdown. Newton ran all the way to the end zone to perform a choreographed celebration, not with his teammates, but standing all by himself. Look at me! And he really hadn’t done anything. He threw a screen pass.
I recommend that he develop some choreographed activities for losing, for interceptions and for fumbles that lead to touchdowns for the other team . . . like an Oopsie Face, or rotating his fists in front of his eyes like he’s wiping away imaginary tears . . .
As further evidence, he cites “the Detroit Pistons who walked off the court with time remaining in the 1991 NBA playoff loss to Michael Jordan’s Chicago Bulls, Cincinnati coach Bob Huggins refusing to shake Xavier coach Pete Gillen’s hand at the end of the 1994 Crosstown Shootout, LeBron James walking off without a handshake in the 2009 conference finals against Orlando and Indiana coach Tom Crean’s harangue of Michigan assistant Jeff Meyer following a 2013 regular season game.”
Ha ha, that’s great stuff! That’s the argument against the handshake line?! We need more of that . . . it’s a good thing for all of us.
Carol Dweck’s research is part of a tradition in psychology that shows the power of people’s beliefs. These may be beliefs that we’re aware of or unaware of but they strongly affect what we want and whether we succeed in getting it. This tradition also shows how changing people’s beliefs can have profound effects.
Dweck’s insight into fixed mindset (bad) vs. growth mindset (good) is powerful but there’s really not enough to it to sustain a book-length exposition without a lot of repetition and illustrational anecdotes, the problem with which is 1) they tend to be overly simple tales of triumph and failure with clearly identified causes; and 2) they ignore the inevitability of regression.
Don’t get me wrong here, I think Dweck’s work is insightful and illuminating, I just don’t think it works well as a book. For a shorter introduction, try, for example, “The Secret to Raising Smart Kids,” recently published in Scientific American.
I lost track of the number of headlines I saw this week regarding how USC (3-3) could possibly be a 3.5-point favorite over undefeated and third-ranked Utah (6-0).
It’s weird that no one in sports journalism seems to understand what a point spread really is.
It’s not a prediction. It’s not a scientific analysis. It’s a gambling mechanism. The only purpose of a point spread is to distribute the betting equally on both teams so the bookmaker can pay the winners with the losers’ money.
USC is a 3.5-point favorite for one reason and one reason only and that is because there are more people willing to bet on USC than there are people willing to bet on Utah, so a carrot is offered in the form of 3.5 points to induce more bettors to put their money on the Utes.
Substitute any other team . . . Team X is a betting favorite because more people want to bet on Team X than on Team X’s opponent.
“Team X is a betting favorite” is not the same thing as “Vegas thinks X is the better team.” Vegas has no opinion on who has the better team. That’s why point spreads fluctuate, sometimes by a lot. If too much money comes in on Team X, the point spreads changes to be more favorable to X’s opponent.
I turned on the TV just as the announcer was shouting “2-0, USA!” so I thought they must be showing highlights of the game against Germany. It’s only 4:06 p.m., the match probably hasn’t even started yet.
Then I sent a text to my kid, “This will teach me to tune in to soccer games on time.” I sent a second text saying I thought when the announcer yelled “2-0, USA!” they must be showing Germany highlights.
Then I sent a third text, “My god in the time it took me to type that they scored two more goals.”
A recurring theme in world history is the United States dick-slapping Germany: World War I, World War II, “Tear down this wall!” … maybe that’s not the most appropriate metaphor for a women’s soccer match but we’ve been winners all our lives.
I’m sad today because the Ducks lost. The Ducks are my favorite hockey team. I like to watch hockey games on TV with my owner because even though I’m old and I can’t see anymore I like the sounds of the skates and the pucks and the sticks.
My second favorite hockey team is the Lightning. I hope they win the Stanley Cup. I like to watch Lightning games because the TV says “… blah blah blah Lightning blah blah blah Lightning blah blah blah Lightning …”
I enjoyed watching his teams because unlike 99 percent of college basketball coaches, he didn’t spend the entire game yelling and calling timeouts every minute. He let the kids play and it was fun to watch . . .