Olympics: Deep and shallow thoughts

Can someone please point me toward the person who invented high-definition television? I want to kiss him or her on the mouth. Oh my god, am I ever addicted to the Olympics in HD. You can see every grain of sand on Misty May and Kerri Walsh's sweaty, well-defined abs, and it is tremendous.

But for once, I'm not just all about the hot women. (Though many, many of them are hot. I've seen hot Ukrainian fencers, Aussie swimmers, Kiwi soccer players, Spanish basketball players, Dutch field hockey players, you name it. Need more examples? The incomparable Dorothy Snarker provides a few.)

So in watching these Olympics, glorying in all these amazing female athletes, it strikes me that much of what makes them so attractive – their abilities, their strength, their power – is precisely what is killing women's gymnastics for me. Those women and girls are extremely powerful; they're all muscle. They perform astonishing feats of athleticism and agility. But they have to do it wearing sparkly makeup and hair ribbons, while prancing around and performing these goofy dance moves in between their tumbling skills, and it makes me insane. Obviously, the floor exercise is the worst offender. What's the deal with the music? The men don't have music in their floor exercise. It's got to go. I know that it's called "artistic" gymnastics, and you're never going to be rid of some of this stuff. But a lot of it just feels so archaic and unnecessary next to other women's sports, and even next to men's gymnastics. There's this pervading sense of forced femininity that just bugs me. The men have to do some of the annoying little toe-pointy, arm-flappy moves too, but not nearly as many. For them, it's mostly about the power. I just don't see why it can't be that way for the women too. Why not add the high bar? From the looks of some of their uneven-bar routines, the women have advanced strength- and skill-wise to a point where they could compete in that discipline. Pommel horse and rings, not so much, but high bar seems attainable. Right? Am I crazy?

Don't get me wrong; I still enjoy watching the gymnastics. I was absolutely thrilled for Nastia Liukin (Side note: best name ever, right? Nasty!), and I don't want to belittle their skills in any way. Because they're badass; they're just hampered by the system they compete in. But this isn't 1984 anymore. The phrase "female athlete" doesn't make people think of Mary Lou Retton, it makes us think of Venus Williams. Mia Hamm. Dara Torres. Diana Taurasi. Annika Sorenstam. And yes, Misty May and Kerri Walsh. OK, those two wear bikinis, which I know has some impact on the decision to put all of their matches on NBC, prime time. (I know I'm crossing my fingers for another celebration like '04.) But I like to think that it also has something to do with the fact that they beat the crap out of the volleyball and have laid waste to nearly every opponent in their path for four years solid.

"Finally!"

That was Danica Patrick's relieved and jubilant exclamation about an hour ago, after she became the first woman to win an IndyCar race. Finally, indeed. I'm not an auto racing fan, but I am a big sports fan. As such, I like to watch all the biggest events, even if it's a sport I'm not really that into or don't know that much about. So although I don't really follow IndyCar racing, I do watch the Indy 500 almost every year. I watched every minute of it in 2005, when Patrick, then a rookie, started on the first row and damn near won the whole thing. It was absolutely thrilling. Since then, I've made it a point to check in on races every now and again, because I knew she would win one at some point, and then many more. The rest of the season passed, then the next, and the next ... and nothing. I got apathetic, I admit it. So when I got home from work tonight, knowing full well the race was going on in Japan and I could watch it if I wanted to, I read a book instead. A couple hours later, I thought, "Oh, I wonder if it's over?" So I flipped on SportsCenter to see Patrick and her family celebrating in pit road. Damnation! I missed out on history to take a bath and read a book. Ninety-nine percent of the time, that's an evening well-spent. Tonight, it turned out to be a stupid move. But I'm still thrilled, even though I didn't get to see the victory as it happened. No matter how one feels about auto racing in general, this is a tremendous milestone for women in sports.

I'm still not too crazy about the grody, almost-spreadeagle photos she did for FHM, but whatever. Danica Patrick is hot and a hell of a race-car driver, and this is her day. Congrats, Danica.

Hoops heaven

Wasn't March a magnificent month? The long, mother-effin' winter is finally over, the daffodils are blooming, and the smell of postseason college basketball permeates the air. I have watched so much basketball the last two weeks, it's ridiculous. My favorite thing is the first weekend of the men's and women's tournaments, because for six straight days, Thursday through Tuesday, there is basketball happening at just about any given hour during the day.

And, OK, let's be honest — women's hoops is total lesbo eye candy. Young, fit, sweaty women running and pushing each other around? Good stuff. I'm not going to get specific and talk about individual players, because it was all well and good to have college hoops crushes when I was 25, but now it seems kind of gross. I mean, I'm not old, but I'm old enough that I shouldn't be crushing on 20-year-olds. Coaches, however, are fair game. This weekend was weird, because Gail Goestenkors' team was not in the Sweet 16. Goestenkors took Duke to the Sweet 16 the last 10 seasons. Now she's at Texas, where she has some rebuilding to do. They made the tournament, which looked iffy for quite some time, but got mauled by UConn in the second round. I don't have very many coach crushes (head coaches, anyway), but Coach G is always welcome on my TV. In the last couple of years she's been looking a bit, shall I say, pinched. But she's still a total cutie.

Anyway, the women's Final Four gets set tonight; LSU and Stanford are already in. Stanford's back in the Final Four for the first time since 1997, a year that lives in infamy for Stanford fans. The Cardinal lost a heartbreaker to Old Dominion in the semifinals, 83-82 in overtime. My first major hoops crush, Kate Starbird, had 21 points in the first half, then disappeared in the second half. I was a huge Stanford fan back then, and that game was one of the biggest sports letdowns of my life. I have it on tape, and I've never watched it. Kristin Folkl fouls out on a totally bogus call, Vanessa Nygaard misses a chippie that would have won it, Jamila Wideman (my second major basketball crush) misses a contested three at the buzzer ... It just suuuuuuucked. (Saddest post-game photo ever: Jamila and her mom. All these years later, I still want to give her a hug.) Of course, Old Dominion then laid an egg against Tennessee in the championship game. Not that I'm still bitter or anything. The last 10 years, I've been a fan, but each year it seems I've been less and less invested. Last year, when the Cardinal, as a No. 2 seed, got bounced out of the second round on their own home court, I decided I'd had enough. So when Monday night came around, I wasn't stressed out. If they lost, no big deal. Naturally, they pulled out a completely awesome win over Maryland. Just when I thought I was out ... they pull me back in! Damn. I'm actually going to the Final Four in Tampa, so it looks like I need to dig my Stanford gear out of the closet. Fair-weather fan? Guilty.

Boooooo

The U.S. women played terribly and lost 4-0 to Brazil. In my mind, Abby Wambach and Hope Solo spent many hours comforting each other. Yes, I am a perv. I know.

I'm upset about it in the sense that the U.S. team was poorly coached and did not play up to its potential in the entire tournament, and today's game was the nadir. On the other hand, I'm all for the women's game growing globally. Particularly in Brazil, where the national squad gets no support despite the fact that it is one of the top teams in the world. Here in the U.S., soccer is still a neglected stepchild, certainly. But coverage of today's game was all over ESPN (even the talking-head shows) and will be in every major newspaper tomorrow. Our national team gets paid to train year-round. Brazil's national team was basically disbanded in 2004 and only started playing together a few weeks before the World Cup. So, yeah, even though I've spent most of the day in a low-boil rage over the way today's match went down, I can't get too uptight about this loss. I hope the Samba Queens win it all.

A Wonderful World

If you haven't been watching the Women's World Cup for the past several weeks, you have missed out on a boatload of women playing some excellent soccer and looking hot doing it. It was my original hope to pick a Soccer Girlfriend of the Day for every day games were played, but it was too difficult to choose. My affinity for sporty blondes knows no bounds, thus the fact that there were three Nordic teams in the competition early on (Norway, Sweden, Denmark) left me in complete sensory overload. Now that we're down to the semifinals, I am doing much better.

The first semifinal on Wednesday is Norway-Germany, which should be a humdinger. Germany's defense has been insane and Birgit Prinz is a goal-scoring machine, so the Norwegians have their work cut out for them. On paper, Germany should win. But I'm picking Norway in an upset because I can't bet against those cute Scandinavians, like Marie Knutsen. (Germany is not lacking in the cuteness department, though -- I think this photo of Renate Lingor is adorable.)

As for the U.S. women, they will have their hands full with the creative and fast Brazilian team, starring the astonishingly talented Marta. But I'm cautiously optimistic for the U.S. As Julie Foudy has pointed out, when Brazil is backed into a corner, it often loses composure. So if the U.S. scores early, I like its chances. Back in the day, I had a lot of crushes on U.S. soccer players -- Shannon MacMillan, Mia Hamm, Foudy, Brandi Chastain, you name it. These days, I will admit to being a bit out of touch with the team. But Abby Wambach (the top photo, in case you don't know) is infinitely crush-worthy because, in addition to being attractive, she is so very badass. In keeping with my love of the blonde pixies, I am also fond of Lindsay Tarpley, who hasn't gotten much playing time in the World Cup (booo). Heather O'Reilly is cute too. Ultimately, as committed as I am to praising the hotness of women worldwide, how they look really doesn't matter. It's all about how you play the game.

Credit for the top photo goes to Eugene Hoshiko of The Associated Press

Beach volleyball = eye candy

So, in a monumentally unproductive Sunday afternoon, I watched at least parts of: U.S. Open preview, a WNBA playoff game (NY vs. Detroit), Indycar racing, LPGA golf, the Little League World Series and women's pro beach volleyball. The volleyball match featured the doubly lovely Misty May and Kerri Walsh -- as most televised women's volleyball matches tend to do, being that May-Walsh are the best team in the world and have been for quite some time. During the match, I thought to myself, "Hmmm ... I could use this as an excuse to post the hottest sports photo ever." But I kind of forgot about it. Then what happens tonight? A&E reruns the CSI: Miami episode in which May and Walsh make a cameo (they discover a body buried smack in the middle of their court during a tournament). It appears that the forces of the universe want me to share this photo from their gold-medal celebration at the 2004 Summer Olympics in Athens.


It's a beautiful moment, and not just because of all the hot girl-on-girl-in-the-sand action. It was the culmination of their complete domination of the field; they never dropped a set in the entire tournament. Incidentally, I know they are both married and are just pals. The celebration was obviously just the joy of the moment. But that doesn't mean it can't be hot too, right?

I've never had the chance to see these two in person, but I did get to see Misty May play several times back in the day, when she was kicking ass and taking names at Long Beach State. My alma mater was in the same conference as Long Beach, and my first job at the college paper was as the women's volleyball beat writer -- a gig that I, as sports editor, assigned to myself. Clever, non?

Long-term crush: Becky Hammon

Sometimes TV crushes are fleeting. Either you stop watching the show, or the character becomes unlikeable, or it simply gets buried under the weight of other crushes. But some, a special few, go on for years. And years. Such is the case with my all-time No. 1 women's hoops hottie, Becky Hammon. My good friend Mechelle, the best women's basketball writer in the whole world, would call bullshit on this statement and contend that a couple of other people could be my No. 1, based on the pure intensity of the crush. She would know; she's had to listen to me all these years. But I am standing by Hammon because she has stood the test of time. In 10 years, I've watched her go from Colorado State superstar, to undrafted rookie shooting guard who barely made a WNBA roster, to all-star point guard and, this year, legitimate league MVP candidate. (She's not going to win; Lauren Jackson will, but still.)

First, let's talk about skill. I've said it before and I'll say it again -- talent is sexy. Hammon is not the fastest person out there, and she's going to commit a lot of turnovers, but she more than makes up with it with her pure ability to score and to create opportunities, and her excellent floor leadership. She also has a bizarre knack for hitting these wacky circus shots in the lane that have no business going in the basket. Since her trade to San Antonio this season, she's kicked up her game another notch. In the regular season, she averaged career highs of 18.8 points and 5.0 assists. Not bad for a woman who's only 5-foot-6. After today's 86-61 win over the Monarchs, in which Becky scored 20, she has her team one game away from the Western Conference finals. Which, of course, means more TV appearances. Woo hoo!

Now, on to the hot. Obviously, Becky Hammon is an attractive woman. But more than that, she has this sexy, butch swagger that I find irresistable. I know what you're thinking: that cute blonde with the ponytail? Butch swagger? If you've ever heard Hammon speak or seen her off court, you know what I'm talking about. She opens her mouth and a Jeep Wrangler falls out. I'm not saying she is or she isn't ... I'm just saying.