Sevens Heaven: The Beautiful Chaos of Fiji's Olympic Dream (2018)
A Quick Book Review

Seeing small Pacific island nation Fiji secure a gold medal at Tokyo 2020 may have been an unusual sight for some, but for those paying attention, it might have seemed as the start of a potential dynasty in rugby sevens. Team Fiji entered this summer's Olympic tournament as defending champions from Rio 2016, after all, so the second gold confirmed that the first wasn't a fluke.

But in some ways, 2016's win was a fluke. The "beautiful chaos" of Fijian rugby during the few years' run-up to Rio is charmingly outlined in Ben Ryan's Sevens Heaven.

Recounting his adventures leading the squad to Fiji's first-ever Olympic medal, Ryan offers a picture of a frustratingly disorganized yet talented system that both challenges and inspires. As an Englishman standing out as a rank outsider in the South Pacific, Ryan is able to objectively observe, and relate, the idiosyncrasies unique to Fijian sport and rugby.

Some of it is might be expected from a first world-er's point of view - government (mis)oversight, bureaucratic lethargy, fiscal problems dealt with by a shrug, logistical difficulties of transportation and basic operations. Add in a mix of Fijian reverence for family time over training, bad diet, unhealthy habits from an underserved and underdeveloped community, and more, and you get a true fish-out-of-water story.

But Ryan perseveres through the tumult, learning - and passing on - an appreciation for each team member's personal challenges and foibles, while navigating the community's 'coconut wireless' of feedback and second guessing. The journey to Rio gold took a toll on Ryan, but the result of a medal for Fiji was inspiration.

What Sevens Heaven shows in retrospect after the team's Tokyo 2020's successful defense is that Fiji is certainly a power. Despite all its foibles. While Ryan had powered the team to nine individual World Series tournament titles and the 2015-15 overall title, Fiji's mercurial talent lived on the edge of meltdown at any given stage. How would they react at such a grand, bright stage of a first Olympics against the well-funded and well-prepared rivals from New Zealand, Great Britain, South Africa, and Australia? Turns out...very well. In Sevens heaven, it's hard not agree that Fiji really is 'everyone's second favorite team'.

What may add to the team's vexing charm is that Tokyo 2020's gold medal team only featured one returning player from the Rio squad. That Team Fiji can reproduce a gold medal run with essentially a new team indicates a depth of spirit and talent that belies and, for now, overcomes, that 'beautiful chaos'.
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So...now...where's the published saga of the Fijiana, Team's Fiji's women's rugby sevens team that won the bronze medal at Tokyo 2020? As much fun as it was to follow the men's exploits, a now-Fiji fan reader yearns to hear more of what the women went through for their Olympic milestone!

LFG (2021)
A Quick Film Review

So...the continuing issue of equal pay within U.S. Soccer - the national governing body for the men's and women's national teams - resurfaced publicly today with an offer by the office to serve both teams an equal contract.

A win? Well....let's revisit how we got here through a look at this summer's LFG, documenting the multi-year effort by the women's team (USWNT) to receive equal pay to the USMNT.

I'll be brief: in 2019, the USWMNT filed a lawsuit against their employers (U.S. Soccer) alleging illegal pay discrimination based on gender. While the USWNT receives pay and bonuses based on performance and play, the amount (per performance and play) pales in comparison to what the USMNT receives - by multiple factors. Although in recent years, the USWMNT has earned more in total, it's been a result of working harder - i.e. performing better - than the USMNT. In essence, the women have to work harder (win more) to earn the same as under-performing men.

There's the essence of LFG, as the production speaks with both team members (notably Megan Rapinoe, Christen Press, Becky Sauerbrunn, Kelley O'Hara, Jessica McDonald, and Sam Mewis), and legal & PR representatives as they navigate the proceedings.

It's a compelling argument. Simply put, the USWMNT is paid less than the USMNT, even despite comparative over-performance. LFG presents an entirely empathetic view toward the USWMNT's plight, aided by the absence of direct U.S. Soccer contribution (a disclaimer notes the federation declined comment). Any discussion of U.S. Soccer's position is examined through the plaintiff's interpretation of the federation's often ham-handed public posturing and court actions.

It's a good watch. And will pull you toward the USWNT cause...and cause wonder at what strategy U.S. Soccer is really employing. By the end of the film, taking us into early 2020, the equal pay argument in the lawsuit is dismissed (with an appeal pending) but an equal treatment portion proceeds.

Cut to yesterday, and U.S. Soccer announces an offer of equal pay contracts. The catch, of course there is one, is that for USWMNT pay to rise, USMNT pay will need to drop...a condition that is hard to envision the USMNT accepting. And the ball now is back in the USWNT's court. Of course, a real win for the women is for rate-of-pay to rise up to the men's level - without the men dropping.

​U.S. Soccer is also passing the buck a bit by shifting the root of pay discrepancy to the bonus discrepancy offered by FIFA (the international federation). True, FIFA doles out more money for the men, but how each national body (like U.S. Soccer) distributes that is up to each body.

Regardless, there doesn't seem to be any immediate thawing of positions, at least in public, with tit-for-tat announcements  on social media.

Granted, it's confusing, and nuanced. On one hand - yes, women deserve equal pay, especially in the U.S. It's equal pay for equal work...and there's the rub. Maintaining dominance in a less-competitive (but, yes, strengthening) global women's game is not exactly equal to competitiveness on the men's side. Where that "not exactly equal" lies is hard, as certainly the women work, train, and commit just as much - if not more - than the men. Where do you equate global competitiveness? Add in that the women are arguably as popular and audience/revenue-generating as the men, and, well...
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Sigh. In any case...can't we all just get along? And agree to pay everyone what they agree they deserve? Not sure we'll see the end soon.

Untold: Breaking Point (2021)
A Quick TV Review

​With tennis on the mind after a great weekend of the U.S. Open, I finally got a chance to dive into Netflix's new "Untold" documentary, Breaking Point, focusing on the impact of anxiety on the career of U.S. tennis star - and Athens 2004 silver medalist -  Mardy Fish.

It's certainly a timely episode of "Untold" to release this late summer, with both the U.S. Open representing the site of pivotal moments in Fish's saga, and the recent discussions on mental health prompted by Naomi Osaka and Simone Biles.

​"Untold" isn't quite right a moniker for Fish's story - as he publicly discussed his anxiety disorder diagnosis back in 2014 - but this documentary does frame his mental health struggles within the context of the pressure of carrying the U.S. mantle of men's tennis.

It's also the first I've seen the subject of his rivalry / friendship with Andy Roddick explored to this depth. Rising together at the famed Saddlebrook Academy, the two were groomed to be the next generation of star U.S. men in tennis in the early 2000s. But Fish quickly falls under Roddick's shadow. His close friend, as the more naturally determined and focused player, rises steadily in the rankings. Of a 2003 Cincinnati match in which Fish lost two championship points and retrospectively define the two's immediate futures, Fish offers, "it still hurts". 

Compounding the prospect of success in the mid-2000s was the rise of the soon-to-be greatest ever trio: Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, and Novak Djokovic. Federer is even referred to in Breaking Point as "the U.S. bubble buster", as his rise thwarted Fish, Roddick, and any other U.S. man's ambitions.

Despite a resurgence of confidence after a reinvigorated training regimen that leads to a career-high ranking of seventh, the wheels fall off in 2012. Facing a too-packed early season schedule, Fish struggles and is hit with a tachycardia diagnosis...leading to another diagnosis of severe anxiety disorder. That severity culminates with a withdrawal from the 2012 U.S. Open, ahead of a much-hyped 4th round match against Federer.

Fueled by Fish's own words, Breaking Point is an interesting, sympathetic look at one athlete's struggle to find drive, coupled with an expectation of success. Certainly a compelling look at someone who, as a casual tennis fan, I never paid much attention to - for all the reasons that swirled around him: not breaking through amongst the stranglehold Roddick and the "Big Three" had on the sport. Breaking Point is also a testament of wonder for the rarity of athlete that can come out unscathed from elite competition. Even Roddick refers to a level of trauma association to this day, with certain foods as triggers.

While we may not get deep on his "troublesome thoughts" as he calls them during the depth of his affliction, Fish's openness in sitting down with this "Untold" production is welcoming. Any dialogue that opens acceptance on the sensitivity of mental health awareness is needed.

As Fish says, "Talking about what I was feeling made me feel better". 

Tracktown (2016)
A Quick Film Review

With the post-Olympic hype of this past weekend's Prefontaine Classic at Eugene, Oregon's Hayward Field, I was inspired to check out a little independent film from a few years ago, also based there: Tracktown​, titled after the town's well-earned nickname.

To be clear, I was intrigued before this year's Classic, or even before June's U.S. Olympic Team Trials, also at Hayward Field. Alexi Pappas is a Greek-American long-distance runner with film-making and writing credentials. Tracktown, which Pappas co-wrote and co-directed and stars in, was premiered shortly before she would compete for Greece at Rio 2016 (finishing 17th in the 10,000 meters).

So, a story on a young athlete in Eugene with big running ambitions would seem to benefit from Pappas' sports experience. She's admitted that the script has elements of her own life, and those of other runners.

Therein lies a strength of the film. Bits of what feels like an insider's look at what it means to be an elite runner appear as Pappas' elite collegiate runner character Plum Madison competes at the trials. The impact of a youth spent running - effects on a changing body, self-consciousness of having a runner's build, missing out on 'typical' teen activities and more - is pointedly included in a way that feels fresh and revelatory.

Unfortunately, those moments are too few to carry the film beyond a lightweight romance, and a maybe romance at that. The main storyline: Madison has an unexpected layoff from training in between rounds at the trials, which forces her to use this newly found time to contemplate life she's missed out. So, she tries to deal with a (too?) supportive father, a separated mother, and budding feelings for the cute cafe worker. But Madison has a depth of naivete from her running shelter that inhibit her new found freedom. And at times that innocence strains credulity. Some of that does stem from Pappas' natural waif-like expressiveness, and I suppose, as a decidedly non-elite athlete myself, I have distance from that reality. In the end, one isn't really sure where she lands in her thoughts or her relationships once she finally reaches the next race. Those storylines don't seem as confidently resolved as could be.

Eugene does look good. 'Tracktown USA' comes off as the bucolic college-town in the shadow of track & field gravitas that it is. And, Tracktown does offer a bonus in a cameo (twice!) by retired U.S. running star Nick Symmonds. So, between that and support for Pappas' own athletic career, track fans may certainly feel the film is well worth it.

The end of the Tokyo 2020 Games has thankfully provided me back some free time to catch-up on much-needed Olympic-related viewing and reading. These last few days, this has meant watching HBO's "100 Foot Wave" documentary series released last month.

But that passion and excitement from surfers about being Olympians might be a little dampened by the next Games' competition. In Paris 2024, the surfing events will be held in Tahiti, more than 9,000 miles away. (!) Tahiti, part of the French Republic via French Polynesia, beat out mainland French options such as Biarritz and Lacanau.

While Tahiti offers a perfect made-for-television surfing backdrop, and it's waves at Teahupo'O can be thrilling, I can't help but think the remoteness might detract from the athletes' sense of Olympism. How will those athletes and their families even feel a part of the Games so far from the Olympic Village, the other athletes, the other sports? Or, will it, for the athletes, feel like just another large tournament stop around the globe? Perhaps the usual rigid and limited qualification for the Games - and some Olympic bunting and procedure on site! - will help tilt the experience toward an Olympic feel.

Tahiti will represent the furthest distance an event is held from a host city, ever. The previous record was equestrian having been held in Stockholm during Melbourne 1956 due to quarantine concerns. Most recently, Tokyo 2020 held its marathon and race walking events almost 700 miles away in Sapporo. And typically, many team sports' games (particularly soccer) are held in multiple sites for scheduling convenience. Paris 2024 will also host sailing away from the Games' landlocked center, in Marseilles, almost 500 miles away.

Understood, the Games are massive, and finding venues for 30+ sports in one limited geographic location is tough. But, mostly, these decisions, have come after the Games were awarded to a specific host. I would have thought that the host city's ability to host all the planned events within a somewhat reasonable geography be  a condition of hosting...otherwise, should it not be called Japan 2020 and France 2024, for example?

Regardless, to Tahiti will go Paris 2024's surfing Olympians. Luckily, Los Angeles 2028 and Brisbane 2032 should offer prime local venues for the sport..and more opportunities for surfers to be better, fully, integrated as Olympians.