I doubt I am alone in dividing the calendar year into not four seasons but two: Baseball season and the off-season. As of this morning, we are officially into the latter (in my eyes, the unofficial end of baseball season is whenever the Yankees play their last game). The St. Louis Cardinals were crowned Major League Baseball champions last night, and deservingly so. As late as mid-August, they were almost as far back in the playoff race as the Boston Red Sox were ahead (sorry, I couldn't resist). But they came storming back, and it wasn't until extra innings on the final game of the regular season that their playoff berth was secured.
Postseason highlights included their Game 5 contest against the Philadelphia Phillies, in which aces Chris Carpenter (St. Louis) and Roy Halladay (Philadelphia) turned in a pitchers' duel for the ages, and Thursday night's dramatic come-from-behind-twice victory in which they were down to their final strike on two separate occasions. Although I had little interest in either the Cardinals or their foe, the Texas Rangers, I will freely admit that it was a terrific series.
The World Series may be over, but the 2011 season is not completely in the books just yet. Over the coming weeks, the regular-season awards will be announced (although the announcements don't come until after the World Series, the selection takes place before the playoffs begin to prevent players' postseason performances from influencing the voters). I have a feeling Justin Verlander will get the Cy Young Award, although I would selfishly prefer to see him named Most Valuable Player so that C.C. Sabathia can receive the Cy Young. And after all the awards have been handed out, it will only be a few more months until pitchers and catchers report to spring training and we do it all again!
About Me
- Robert
- I'm a 2009 graduate of Dartmouth College who loves Jesus, my wife and all things Northeast.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
What's in a name?
I couldn't help but notice the release of Roland Emmerich's new film, Anonymous. The movie, which opens today, deals with the question of authorship of Shakespeare's plays and posits that Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford, is the true playwright. This theory is almost universally acknowledged as nonsense, and more than a few scholars and critics have pointed out that the film is so unbelievable that it actually serves to undermine its purported champion's cause.
As I understand it, the assumption underlying the so-called Oxfordian theory is that an uneducated man like William Shakespeare could never have written such dizzyingly complex plays as are attributed to him. Notwithstanding the flimsiness of that argument in the first place, I find it far more compelling to ask how Edward de Vere, who died in 1604, could have written more than half a dozen of Shakespeare's plays from beyond the grave.
Conspiracy theorists will exist no matter where you turn, and I'm not deeply offended on intellectual grounds by Anonymous (which, incidentally, I have no plans to see). But I just can't quite see the appeal of making a movie like this one; who would want to go see it? Wouldn't it be far more satisfying to spend time in the real Shakespeare than speculating about who else might have (but didn't) pen the works? I have enjoyed many of Emmerich's other offerings--especially Independence Day and The Patriot--and I suppose only time and box office receipts will tell if his directorial star power will outweigh such a ridiculous premise. As my college Shakespeare professor put it, "New evidence can always surface. But until it does, who wrote Shakespeare's plays? William Shakespeare."
In other news, we had our first snowfall yesterday here in Enfield (and across the Twin States, it seems). It didn't snow much--maybe an inch and a half--but I'm sure there will be plenty more where that came from. The next storm is already predicted for tomorrow. I'm just not sure I'm ready for summer to be over yet, let alone fall!
As I understand it, the assumption underlying the so-called Oxfordian theory is that an uneducated man like William Shakespeare could never have written such dizzyingly complex plays as are attributed to him. Notwithstanding the flimsiness of that argument in the first place, I find it far more compelling to ask how Edward de Vere, who died in 1604, could have written more than half a dozen of Shakespeare's plays from beyond the grave.
Conspiracy theorists will exist no matter where you turn, and I'm not deeply offended on intellectual grounds by Anonymous (which, incidentally, I have no plans to see). But I just can't quite see the appeal of making a movie like this one; who would want to go see it? Wouldn't it be far more satisfying to spend time in the real Shakespeare than speculating about who else might have (but didn't) pen the works? I have enjoyed many of Emmerich's other offerings--especially Independence Day and The Patriot--and I suppose only time and box office receipts will tell if his directorial star power will outweigh such a ridiculous premise. As my college Shakespeare professor put it, "New evidence can always surface. But until it does, who wrote Shakespeare's plays? William Shakespeare."
In other news, we had our first snowfall yesterday here in Enfield (and across the Twin States, it seems). It didn't snow much--maybe an inch and a half--but I'm sure there will be plenty more where that came from. The next storm is already predicted for tomorrow. I'm just not sure I'm ready for summer to be over yet, let alone fall!
Thursday, October 20, 2011
FIDE rated at last
I played in the Bedford Round Robin chess tournament over Columbus Day weekend in (you guessed it!) Bedford, NH. Expertly organized by Alex Relyea, Nita Patel, and Ken Ballou, the tournament consisted of two randomly assigned (but roughly balanced) ten-player round-robin sections. The goal of the tournament was to generate additional FIDE-rated players in the region.
First, an explanation of the FIDE rating system. FIDE, which is the French acronym for what translates into "World Chess Federation," is the worldwide governing body for chess. It administers the World Championship, assigns international titles (i.e., Grandmaster), and so forth. A tournament can be rated both by the national federation sponsoring it--in this case, the U.S. Chess Federation--and by FIDE, although certain conditions about the time control and the number of games in the event must be satisfied for an event to be FIDE-rateable.
One of the most vexing requirements, in my view, is that an unrated player must play at least three games against FIDE-rated players in the same event and score at least 1/3--either two draws or one win--in order to receive a provisional FIDE rating. Once you have a FIDE rating, all future games played against FIDE-rated players in FIDE-rated tournaments will be FIDE rated (no more minimums). I have previously played in a number of FIDE-rated tournaments, and even faced some FIDE-rated players, but I have always fallen short of the minimum games requirement.
But no more! Provided that each player in the section scored at least one point out of the nine games, every player in the section would receive a FIDE rating. From that standpoint, the tournament was a complete success, as all the requirements were met and approximately a dozen new FIDE ratings were issued (some of the players already had FIDE ratings).
From a chess standpoint, it was a mediocre event. I won a couple nice games, and I saved a couple draws (and even one victory) from difficult positions, but on the whole my score of +3 -3 =3 was a disappointment, especially considering I had the highest USCF rating in the section. There was a silver lining, though (beyond obtaining a FIDE rating, which truthfully was my sole goal going into the event). A couple mistakes popped up in almost all of my games at the event, bringing to light holes in my game of which I had been previously unaware. I will be much better able to target my studying now. My goal is to attain the National Master title, and I believe it is well within reach!
First, an explanation of the FIDE rating system. FIDE, which is the French acronym for what translates into "World Chess Federation," is the worldwide governing body for chess. It administers the World Championship, assigns international titles (i.e., Grandmaster), and so forth. A tournament can be rated both by the national federation sponsoring it--in this case, the U.S. Chess Federation--and by FIDE, although certain conditions about the time control and the number of games in the event must be satisfied for an event to be FIDE-rateable.
One of the most vexing requirements, in my view, is that an unrated player must play at least three games against FIDE-rated players in the same event and score at least 1/3--either two draws or one win--in order to receive a provisional FIDE rating. Once you have a FIDE rating, all future games played against FIDE-rated players in FIDE-rated tournaments will be FIDE rated (no more minimums). I have previously played in a number of FIDE-rated tournaments, and even faced some FIDE-rated players, but I have always fallen short of the minimum games requirement.
But no more! Provided that each player in the section scored at least one point out of the nine games, every player in the section would receive a FIDE rating. From that standpoint, the tournament was a complete success, as all the requirements were met and approximately a dozen new FIDE ratings were issued (some of the players already had FIDE ratings).
From a chess standpoint, it was a mediocre event. I won a couple nice games, and I saved a couple draws (and even one victory) from difficult positions, but on the whole my score of +3 -3 =3 was a disappointment, especially considering I had the highest USCF rating in the section. There was a silver lining, though (beyond obtaining a FIDE rating, which truthfully was my sole goal going into the event). A couple mistakes popped up in almost all of my games at the event, bringing to light holes in my game of which I had been previously unaware. I will be much better able to target my studying now. My goal is to attain the National Master title, and I believe it is well within reach!
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Nobel Prize 2011
The Nobel Prize in Literature was announced yesterday, which means it's time for my annual rant about "The subjectivity and poor qualifications of the ... committee." Can anybody tell me what a computational linguist actually does (when not deciding on the Nobel Prize recipient, of course)? Anyway, this year's recipient is Swedish poet Tomas Transtromer. I'm sure the man is a superlative poet (although be honest now: How many of you had read him before the award was announced?), but I'm still upset that the committee passed over Cormac McCarthy last year.
I will take a rare step down from my anti-Literature committee soapbox to admit that the seeming randomness of the selections can be attributed (rightly or wrongly) to a certain literary ethnocentrism in America. My wholly anecdotal perception is that apart from the classics, few of us read outside our own national borders. When was the last time you picked up a book of poems or short stories by an author whose hometown you couldn't even pronounce, just for the fun of expanding your horizons? Without borderless bookshelves, we will naturally be taken by surprise by any foreign recipient.
Having said that, though, many of the committee's recent selections have been inexplicable. (Actually, I think it is perfectly explained by the wholly inadequate qualifications of the committee members.) There are so many talented authors and poets out there ... what were they thinking when they selected Elfriede Jelinek (2004)? I'm not the only person who noticed the unsuitability of that choice, either; Knut Ahnlund resigned from the committee in protest over Jelinek's selection (it should be noted that Ahnlund is a literary historian specializing in nineteenth century Danish literature ... in what way does that qualify him to bestow the Nobel Prize?).
In happier news, I'm about a third of the way through Ernest Hemingway's Islands in the Stream, and I'm really enjoying it so far. It seems like he has essentially relocated A Moveable Feast (which is my favorite book of his) to warmer climes, but that doesn't diminish my enjoyment of the story.
I will take a rare step down from my anti-Literature committee soapbox to admit that the seeming randomness of the selections can be attributed (rightly or wrongly) to a certain literary ethnocentrism in America. My wholly anecdotal perception is that apart from the classics, few of us read outside our own national borders. When was the last time you picked up a book of poems or short stories by an author whose hometown you couldn't even pronounce, just for the fun of expanding your horizons? Without borderless bookshelves, we will naturally be taken by surprise by any foreign recipient.
Having said that, though, many of the committee's recent selections have been inexplicable. (Actually, I think it is perfectly explained by the wholly inadequate qualifications of the committee members.) There are so many talented authors and poets out there ... what were they thinking when they selected Elfriede Jelinek (2004)? I'm not the only person who noticed the unsuitability of that choice, either; Knut Ahnlund resigned from the committee in protest over Jelinek's selection (it should be noted that Ahnlund is a literary historian specializing in nineteenth century Danish literature ... in what way does that qualify him to bestow the Nobel Prize?).
In happier news, I'm about a third of the way through Ernest Hemingway's Islands in the Stream, and I'm really enjoying it so far. It seems like he has essentially relocated A Moveable Feast (which is my favorite book of his) to warmer climes, but that doesn't diminish my enjoyment of the story.
New Hampshire Marathon
Ellen ran in the New Hampshire Marathon in Bristol, N.H. this past Saturday. She turned in a phenomenal time of 3:59:55, which eclipsed her pre-race goal of a sub-four hour finish. The race was the culmination of months of training and preparation, and I am extraordinarily proud of Ellen for doing so well. I took the following video of Ellen crossing the finish line:
One of Ellen's officemates--herself an avid runner--and I made the journey out to Bristol to cheer on Ellen. I was coming from work and unfortunately got a late call that meant I arrived after the race had begun. We had a detailed course map, however, so we would drive ahead to various spots on the course and cheer as Ellen passed by. It was a lot of fun!
After the race, Ellen was predictably sore; the rest of the weekend was spent doing as little walking as possible (going up and especially down stairs was particularly challenging). Ellen is more or less back to full strength now, though, which I credit to her diligent training and superior physical condition. The better shape you're in, the less excessively traumatic the race, and the quicker your recovery. Or so I reason. In any event, I'm extremely impressed at how well she is handling everything. Assuming I even finished a marathon (this is less an assumption than a fantasy), I would probably be on the couch the better part of a week before even attempting to get back on my feet.
Way to go, Ellen!!
One of Ellen's officemates--herself an avid runner--and I made the journey out to Bristol to cheer on Ellen. I was coming from work and unfortunately got a late call that meant I arrived after the race had begun. We had a detailed course map, however, so we would drive ahead to various spots on the course and cheer as Ellen passed by. It was a lot of fun!
After the race, Ellen was predictably sore; the rest of the weekend was spent doing as little walking as possible (going up and especially down stairs was particularly challenging). Ellen is more or less back to full strength now, though, which I credit to her diligent training and superior physical condition. The better shape you're in, the less excessively traumatic the race, and the quicker your recovery. Or so I reason. In any event, I'm extremely impressed at how well she is handling everything. Assuming I even finished a marathon (this is less an assumption than a fantasy), I would probably be on the couch the better part of a week before even attempting to get back on my feet.
Way to go, Ellen!!
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