Showing posts with label Sport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sport. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Up Where I Belong


By Alli Sinclair



I took this photo in 1994 at Base Camp on Mera Peak in Nepal. It was my first-ever climbing expedition and this trip awakened a passion for mountain climbing and travel that has never left me (and I doubt it ever will).

At a height of 6,476 metres (21,247 feet), Mera Peak isn’t for those wanting a Sunday stroll. I took this photo the day before we arrived at the summit and my life changed forever. Standing on the top of Mera Peak, overlooking the 8,000 metre peaks of Mount Everest, Lhotse, Cho Oyu, Makalu, and Kanchenjunga, I discovered my ability to push myself beyond the physical pain and mental torment of climbing at high altitude. This awareness changed my whole philosophy on life, and at the age of 24, I realised the only limits are the ones we place on ourselves and once we smash those down, we can achieve almost anything we set our heart and mind to. Eighteen years later, and I still believe this is so.

How about you? Have you ever had a life-changing moment while traveling?

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Kicking Goals


By Alli Sinclair

Four years is a long time when you’re waiting for the FIFA World Cup. I’ve never been sporty, but when it comes to football (yes, others call it “soccer” but I am adamant soccer is football so don’t get me started!), I plan my life around viewing the matches live. If I have to get up at 4 am to watch Argentina or Australia, I’ll do it. One of the great things about FIFA is the advertisements. Even if you’re not a fan of the sport, I’m sure you can appreciate the skill of these amazing players. Here’s a selection of my favorite football ads:

Adidas Germany 2006



Elvis and football 2002



Aussies take on the world South Africa 2010



South Africa 2010



Team Brazil 1998

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Rocking and Rolling -- The History of Rollerskates


By Alli Sinclair

My oldest kiddy-bop has just reached the age when rollerskates are a tad more interesting than The Wiggles. (And I can’t tell you how relieved I am about that!) I used to be an avid rollerskater back in my day (not telling how many) and hubby still enjoys the odd rollerblade here and there, so Miss Five is finding herself involved in interesting family discussions -- to rollerskate or rollerblade, that is the question.

So I can back up why rollerskating is better (and yay for its recent revival!), I delved into the history of these strange shoes with wheels and was surprised as to how far back this invention dates. The impact this invention has had on culture is quite impressive.

In Holland, in the early 1700s, the main mode of transport in winter was to skate the frozen canals. A clever Dutchman figured skating on dry land could be a good summer alternative, so he nailed some wooden spools to a strip of wood and attached them to his shoes. Voilà! Skeelers were invented.

In 1760, Joseph Merlin, a London instrument maker and inventor took it a step further, wearing his shoes on wheels to a masquerade party and proceeding to entertain the crowd while skating and playing the violin. Watching Mr Merlin zip around the floor entranced the guests -- until he smashed into a mirror that took up the entire length of one wall.

Taking it mainstream in 1818, a German ballet company held the Ballett Der Maler oder die Wintervergnügungen that was originally planned as an ice-skating extravaganza. When they realised ice on stage was a tad impractical, it opted to perform the ballet with rollerskates. Yay for creativity!

In 1819, Monsieur Petibledin became the first person to get a patent issued for rollerskates. He invented a boot with a wooden sole and fitted four copper rollers to it, arranged in a straight line. By 1823, another patent was submitted, this time by Robert John Tyers from London, who called his contraption the Rolito. This skate had five wheels in a single row, which were attached to the bottom of a boot, but unfortunately it couldn’t follow curved paths. Kind of a problem if there’s a pond straight ahead.

Back to Germany, and in 1840, lucky patrons at the Corse Halle Tavern in Berlin, were served drinks by barmaids rolling through expansive beer halls. Perhaps the halls gave the Londoners the idea of opening up the first public rink in 1857 at Floral Hall. Not to be outdone by the British, the Americans opened The Coliseum in Chicago in1902. Opening night had over 7,000 people attending. Later, in 1908, Madison Square Gardens in New York City, became a skating rink, and soon, from that moment on, hundreds of rinks opened across the States and Europe. The sport grew in popularity and new versions were invented -- ballroom roller dancing, polo skating, speed skating, and good old recreational skating.

In 1863, American James Plimpton designed a pair of skates that were more practical and a little less dangerous (in theory). He placed one pair of wheels under the heel and the other pair under the ball of the foot. The wooden wheels were attached to rubber springs that made the ride a little more comfy and meant the skater could change direction without twisting his or her ankle or breaking a leg. This invention was the closest to what we know as the current version of four-wheeled rollerskates.

As with any invention, improvements were made over time. By 1884, skates became lighter and easier to manoeuvre with the addition of pin ball-bearing wheels. By 1960, plastics improved further, and finally by the time the 1970s and 1980s rolled around (pun intended), disco roller-skating took over skating rinks. Hollywood cottoned on, and movies such as Xanadu and Rollerball appealed to the masses. Seriously, there was no shame in those decades.

In 1979, the Olson brothers, a couple of hockey players who lived in Minnesota, discovered an antique pair of skates that had wheels in a single line as opposed to the two sets of two. The brothers took the elements from these skates and merged them with modern materials, designing what we now know as “inline skates”. They formed the company Rollerblade Inc. in 1983, and sold inline skates exclusively around the world. Unfortunately, their design had many faults, so the brothers sold the company to new owners who improved the design. They incorporated fibreglass, which better protected the wheels so dust couldn’t get in, and the skates were a lot easier to put on. When they shifted the toe break to the back, the new model was complete.

Throughout the years, Rollerblade improved designs, and invented new models that were lighter and faster than previous models. In 1993, Rollerblade found a way to use the skater’s leg to stop the skate without relying on the original breaking method. Thus, Active Brake Technology was formed by attaching a fibreglass post to the top of the boot and the other end to a rubber brake that is hinged at the back wheel. This new change improved safety.

In our house, the halls will forever echo with heated discussions about whether traditional rollerskating or rollerblading is the best. Luckily, our kids have minds of their own and will ultimately decide what they’ll try. Who knows? In a few more years they might be riding the next generation of rollerskates and enjoying an evolved, modern past time for their generation. In the meantime, it’s fun to delve into the history of an invention that has brought great joy to many, and the odd broken bone.

I have to ask: which camp are you in?

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The World’s Driest Boat Race – Henley-On Todd Regatta


Anyone who’s met an Aussie will understand very quickly we like a good laugh, even better if it’s about ourselves. We’re also sports crazy. So it’s no wonder we have a penchant for combining two of our favourite activities – sports and humour – into an event that has now become a national icon.

The Henley-On Todd Regatta started back in 1962, when Reg Smith and his colleagues at the Alice Springs Meteorological Bureau suggested they hold a rowing race similar to the famous Henley-on-Thames Regatta (between Oxford and Cambridge Universities). The Rotary Club of Alice Springs jumped at the idea and weren’t perturbed that the largest body of water closest to them was 1500 kilometres away. So instead, they race on the dry Todd River riverbed.

These days, Alice Springs boasts a population of 26,000, which increases by 20,000 when the Henley-On Todd Regatta takes place every August. As Alice Springs is a two-day trip by car from Sydney, making the effort to attend the regatta is a serious investment of time and money from competitors and visitors alike.

Traditionally in August every year, the Todd River is dry which allows this race to run. The only time the race has been cancelled due to water on the riverbed was in 1995. Rain would spell disaster for the organisers and they now ensure their non-aquatic carnival against the river being wet.

Day one of the regatta sees a parade of entrants and their boats traipsing the streets to the Todd Mall, with the regatta itself starting at the northern end of the Todd riverbed a short time later. To get around not having any water on the river, competitors race with bottomless boats and hold onto them as they sprint down the riverbed towards the finish line.

Spectators line the west bank of the Todd River and cheer on the contestants kicking up sand as they race each other for the coveted title of Henley-On-Todd Regatta winner.

Aside from the races, there is the Surf-Ski Rescue where rail tracks are laid along the riverbed and damsels in distress wave their hands at the end of the tracks, waiting for their rescuers. The surf-ski rescue teams paddle their surf-skis along the rails, rescue the floundering females, then the rescuers and victims are hauled back by a safety line pulled by their beach-based assistants.

The Oxford Tubs is an event consisting of pairs sitting in a 44-gallon drum that has been cut in half. The tubs are placed on the rails and the participants paddle in the sand with small shovels to the finish line.

The other events are the eights, yachts, Head of the River, Bring Your Own Vessel, Hen’s Head of the River, High School Chick of the Todd and the Admiral’s Cup. All are team events that bring tears to spectators’ eyes and blisters to the participants’ feet and hands.

The rules are straightforward hold the vessels waist high and run like the clappers* along the course without tripping or collapsing from laughter or exhaustion. The heavy sand makes the going hard, and it’s only the strong athletes or those with iron wills that cross the finish line.

As well as boating races, the regatta includes the Henley Bathing Beauty Contest, the Iron Sandman, the Greasy-mast and sand shovelling. Though the highlight is the naval battle at the end of the regatta. Vessels armed with water cannons, flour bombs, and wanna-be pirates engage in mortal combat.

The Henley-On Todd attracts bankers, backpackers, mums, grandfathers, and everyone in between. Seemingly sane people turn crazy during this event and will stop at nothing to get across that finish line.

The event has grown so popular, that now people from all over the world travel to Alice Springs to witness or participate in one of Australia’s craziest sporting events. So if you happen to be near the centre of Australia in August, pack your togs** and shovel and head down to the Henley-On-Todd Regatta, Australia’s only boat race without water.

* clappers = go very fast

** togs = bathers, swimwear
 

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Bend It Like Batistuta

Ahhh... Gabriel Batistuta. What more can one say?
Not long after arriving in South America, I discovered my passion for football. And before anyone starts sending hate mail, it is football, not soccer—at least by my definition. We can save the debate about what “real” football is for another post, but I believe this gentlemen, Gary Archer, seems to have it pretty well summed up here.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s travel back in time to my early days in Argentina. My ever-patient friends took me to cafes to watch games on the screen and educate me as to why they were well within their right to yell at the referee who couldn’t hear them. My buddies taught me how to appreciate the skills and intricacies of the game, and I quickly fell in love with the sport, but the part that intrigued me the most was the supporters. It never failed to amuse me when my normally quiet, agreeable friends transformed into raucous, one-eyed supporters the moment their chosen team took to the field. 

When a journalist friend offered to take me to a live match, I could hardly refuse. On match day, I practically super-glued myself to him, praying I wouldn’t get lost in the rowdy mob as we made our way from the train station to the stadium. At the gate, men, women, and children were patted down, lighters were confiscated and thrown into large plastic bins, and I eventually climbed the shaky wooden steps of the terrace to get a good view of the field. 

I’d never been to a sporting match where the crowds had to be separated by team. With Australian Rules Football, supporters mingle with each other during the game. There’s some good-natured ribbing, but rarely does it come to blows. When I went to my first Argentine football match I hadn’t been brainwashed into supporting any particular team (a totally different story now), so it was a tad difficult to decide which part of the stadium I should be in. Luckily, my friend made up my mind for me, and we took our place amongst the River Plate supporters. The Racing supporters on the opposite side of the field gave us the evil eye and showed us some interesting hand gestures.

Anticipation zapped through the air and the crowd grew louder the closer it came to kick-off. Above our heads, homemade signs fluttered in the breeze, smoke that was not from legal cigarettes floated through the air, and thousands of supporters stretched their vocal chords. Scattered throughout the terraces were signs that had names of different neighbourhoods in Buenos Aires - Palermo, Belgrano, Caballito - indicating where supporters from each barrio should congregate to cheer their team on. The way people greeted each other with hugs, backslaps, and a few choice words was like witnessing a high school reunion.

A few men, who had better balance than tightrope walkers, stood on the railings, faced the crowd and encouraged everyone to join in one of the endless chants from each team’s repertoire. When the mob looked like it was losing momentum, these self-proclaimed cheerleaders would point to those not doing their bit, and berate them into singing louder and jumping higher. 

River Plate
All this before the game had even started. 

Once the teams ran onto the field, the formalities took place, and the game commenced. It was mayhem from that moment on. Thousands of sweaty bodies jumped up and down, supporters broke out into some choice chants, and they spent most of the time telling the other team how useless they were and how they liked dating the mother’s of the opposition. That’s the G rated version, anyway. There’s no such thing as personal space, and no one cared, they were all in it together. 

If a player from the other team happened to take a tumble in front of the opposition supporters, the poor guy got pelted with foam cups, rolled-up newspapers, and fruit. The policemen that stood around the perimeter with shields and truncheons eyed off the crowd, but didn’t move a muscle. A few times, I caught policemen eyeing off the supporters with looks that seemed to say, “That’s the best you can do?”

To be honest, I don’t remember a great deal about the actual match. I know River Plate won, as my friend’s bear hug at the end of the game nearly resulted in me suffering a couple of cracked ribs. 

I came away from the match breathless, in a daze, and on a high I’d never experienced from watching a sport match before. To say I was hooked was an understatement.

When I moved to Cuzco in Peru, the apartment I lived in just happened to be around the corner from one of the national football teams. But that’s a whole other story for another time. 

My love of football has never died, and I am forever grateful to my friends for introducing me to this amazing game. The people’s passion, dedication, and willingness to bare their souls for the love of their team is something I’d never quite experienced before. Football brings people together, regardless of social status. Lifelong friendships are made, and for the couple of hours during the match, one’s problems fall by the wayside and it’s a moment in time to forget about the real world and form a united front.

Supporting a football team means one belongs.

And in case you’re ever in the neighbourhood and feel the urge to go to a River Plate match, here are some chants you can practice: