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WATCH: Dwayne Wade, MVP
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WATCH: Dwayne Wade, MVP |
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[by Amy Bass] I love end-of-the-year lists. Best moments in TV, most fascinating people, person of the year, best films/books/concerts, biggest celebrity goofs – all of them. They give us a chance, albeit terribly superficial, to reflect on the past 12 months, look forward, and try to figure out – just for a moment – what it was all about and what it will be all about. This year, with politics and policy ensuring that the most fascinating people are going to be “bad guys” like Bush and Kim and Ahmadinejad and Bush (yes, he bears repeating– he's homegrown, after all), I find myself looking for such lists even more passionately than before, hoping that the world isn't actually as screwed up as it appears to be, and that we aren't all descending into the gates of hell on the back of the now defunct Donald Rumsfeld. Which brings me, as always, to sports, the place with highs and lows that decipher the world we live in just as significantly as war criminals do, but with a lot more flair and audience share. For Sports Illustrated , Dwyane Wade fit the bill as sportsman of the year, not a bad choice, although kind of obvious, don't you think? What about Walter Mayer? Never heard of him? Shame, because he's a colorful fellow. Mayer was at the center of a Nordic skiing/biathlon firestorm at the Winter Games in Torino, Italy, last February when police raids on the Austrian quarters in Pragelato and San Sicario found evidence of doping. Why did they raid? Because Mayer, who had been banned from the Olympics until after Vancouver in 2010 for his involvement in a blood doping scandal in Salt Lake, was in town. It was something right out a bad Law and Order episode: Mayer fled over the Italian border to Austria in the midst of the raids, crashed his car into a police blockade, and ended up in the psych ward of a hospital. The result? The IOC continues to investigate the Italian investigation of the Austrian delegation, Mayer is suing the heads of the IOC and the World Anti-Doping Agency for defamation of character, and the rest of us learned that some people in this world actually do care about cross-country skiing. Of course, Torino provided spectacular moments that had nothing to do with such mystery and intrigue. Canada's Cindy Klassen and Italy's Enrico Fabris ensured that the pissing match between Americans Shani Davis and Chad Hedrick was not the only thing going on at the speed skating oval. Figure skating legend Michelle Kwan assured us that you don't need a gold medal to be the consummate champion, while Japan's Shizuka Arakawa plucked the ultimate Olympic plum – the Ladies title – from the hands of Sasha Cohen and Irina Slutskaya. With two feisty Italians glaring at each other after a nasty throw down, ice dancing became – finally – not boring. And American Lindsey Jacobellis made a mistake, as her showboating grab during the penultimate jump during the women's snowboard cross cost her the gold medal, but her teenage candor about wanting to give a little something to the fans made me think that she'll probably be all right. Besides, others certainly committed more heinous crimes than Jacobellis. The Duke Lacrosse team – if nothing else – had a nasty party that was unbecoming to a bunch of athletes, while soccer legend Zidane had to make amends for the head butt heard round the world during his recent trip home to Algeria, where he was greeted by thousands of adoring fans, one of whom waved a sign that read “A man's dignity is worth more than the World Cup.” Floyd Landis recently admitted that his career is likely over in the wake of his Tour d'France title, which he likely won't keep if he isn't cleared for testing positive for elevated levels of testosterone. There was also some serious perfection in 2006. Tiger Woods seemingly fell apart after losing his father, demonstrating definitively that he is, indeed, human, and went on to compile a string of victories that have to be considered among the greatest sports achievements in history. Jim Leyland led the Detroit Tigers through the playoff season with such grace and old school charm that my Red-Sox-loving father smiled each time the man took the field, delighted to see the one with such white hair in a position of power. Alexander Ovechkin scored a goal that regardless of how many times I watch it I still don't understand. Jamaican Asafa Powell equaled his own world record twice at 100-meters, and unlike seemingly everyone else around him, never tested positive for anything but extreme speed. And the Mets (and I hate the Mets) had a golden moment when Endy Chavez – formerly a benchwarmer – leapt into the air to commit what many sportswriters considered to be grand theft larceny, making a seemingly impossible catch that turned a Cardinals' two-run dinger into a double play. Oh yes, and I'm sure someone did something amazing in NASCAR, but I don't care. Sports also said farewell to some of its legends, with folks like Andre Agassi and Ian Thorpe announcing retirement, and welcomed others into its fold, with the Red Sox finally signing Daisuke Matsuzaka to its roster in spite of his high-powered agent. But perhaps the best thing that happened in sports in 2006 was that Emmitt Smith learned how to dance. Yes, that's right – he learned . He worked hard, paid attention, sweated his head off, and definitively put to rest all of the pseudo-scientific garbage and mythic tales about rhythm being inherent and athletic ability being god-given. The man learned to become a champion dancer. Because that's what athletic perfection takes: hard work and a lot of skill. December 19, 2006 |
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