Except for the Masters, I don't watch a lot of golf on TV, but I will make an exception for this week's U.S. Open, when I hope to hear loud boos whenever Phil Mickelson steps up to the tee. Monday I posted a cartoon titled "The Wide World of Sports" that showed Jesse Owens saluting on the winner's stand and Phil Mickelson in dark shades. The captions read: "1936: Beating the Nazis" and "2022: Joining the Saudis."
I like Iga Swiatek - she reminds me of my students at the English Language College in Warsaw - but sometimes her tactics get on my nerves (as they do on the players'). If ever a statue is erected to her it should show her with her left hand raised making her opponent wait to serve.
Played tennis yesterday evening at the Fort Lauderdale Tennis Club under perfect conditions: no sun, no wind, and of course no rain. After hitting for an hour and a half we retired to the bar to watch Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal, who at that point had been hitting much longer. By the time Nadal broke back to even the fourth set, a small crowd had gathered. Watching these two play is like watching an irresistible force meet and unmovable object.
“Nadal,” said a young man with a curly mop of hair, “is a freak of nature.”
There’s that too.
He won the match.
I was in Miami yesterday so around six I drove by the ballpark, thinking I’d go to the game if the roof were open. It was a warm but not very humid evening, with a light breeze and no chance of rain. Still, the roof was closed – as I think it has been for every game this year. The players apparently like the air-conditioning, and fans – other than me – don’t seem to complain.
I drove back to Calle Ocho and had dinner at a Thai place, where all of the diners were eating outside.
I drove down to see the Marlins last night. I figured the roof would be closed because of the wind; a few blocks from the park I drove through a cloudburst. It rained intermittently for the next 20 minutes. I waited for a break and walked to a window on the north side, showed my driver’s license, and got my free senior’s day ticket.
The Marlins were superb, great pitching and, in the later innings, power hitting. I found the new arepa stand in left field, ordered one with beef, and ate one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had at a ballpark. (They’re the savory white corn arepas, not the sweet and greasy yellow ones.)
Finishing my arepa, I got talking to an usher. He too wondered why they don’t open the roof. “It would save them money on air-conditioning,” he said.
At this writing, the Marlins have played six home games, all of them with the roof closed, in a month when fans used to have a good chance of watching baseball in the fresh air. You may think, as I once did, that the roof is used to protect from rain, but it’s also, as the response to my complaint to the Marlins organization made clear, to protect from humidity and high winds, all of which are fairly common in South Florida (and don’t seem to bother the University of Miami baseball team). It makes you wonder why they spent money on a retractable roof when they could have built at a much lower cost what they now for all intents and purposes have: an indoor stadium.
The response went on to say that the number one priority is “fan safety and comfort.” I find this doubtful. I have heard that the players prefer the roof closed; pampered millionaires that they are, they don’t wish to sweat excessively (not that they would in April) and don’t like strong winds keeping their would-be home run balls in the park (not that they’re hitting a lot with the roof closed).
But humans generally enjoy being outside, especially in the evening after a day of work. It is why most restaurants in Miami have outdoor seating. Dining is a traditionally indoor activity and yet many people choose to do it outside – even in summer, when the weather is sticky. Baseball, by contrast, is an outdoor game that, strangely, the Marlins have turned into an indoor sport. It is hard for me to believe that this is what the majority of fans desire.