hellwoman
02-27-2007, 07:46 AM
Sports Across America: Hawaii
Paradise Isn't Limited to Beaches in Aloha State
By: Steven Stein
Issue date: 2/27/07 Section: Sports
PrintEmail Article Tools Page 1 of 1 When the news brief appeared in front of him, the ESPN anchor refused to read it.
"Chaminade beats top-ranked Virginia, 77-72."
There was no way this NAIA school that the anchor hadn't even heard of defeated the top-ranked team in the country. Guided by the best player in college basketball, 7-foot-4 Ralph Sampson, the University of Virginia had just defeated Patrick Ewing's Georgetown University Hoyas. Chaminade College (Hawaii) had just come off a lost to Wayland Baptist (Hawaii).
But in a sweltering bandbox in rural Maui, none of that mattered.
Before North Carolina State and George Mason, there was Chaminade. Chaminade's victory - which inspired T-shirts reading, "Yes, Virginia, there is a Chaminade" - is the ultimate Cinderella story. And it's only fitting that this story took place in Hawaii.
Hawaii is the ultimate underdog state when it comes to sports. The state lacks a professional sports team, and has only one major college sports program, but its residents are still sports crazy. When someone from Hawaii does something notable in the sports world - like when then-15-year-old golfer Todd Fujikawa played in the U.S. Open last year - it's front page news.
Of course, when you think of Hawaii and sports, you don't necessarily think of the hardwood. The ocean, specifically Hawaii's 664 miles of coastline, come to mind.
For me, 90 miles of that coastline have special significance. I've been lucky enough to spend the summer and winter in Kauai, one of the Hawaiian Islands, since my second birthday.
So instead of listing you a bunch of facts about Hawaii sports, I'm going to do what the locals call talkin' story. I'm going to describe to you a typical Saturday on Kauai:
7:30 a.m.: Cockadoodledoo!
Who needs an alarm in paradise? Wild roosters roam the streets here, and they definitely make their presence felt. Normally I wouldn't be pleased by an unplanned wakeup call this early. But it's already in the mid-70s - in December, no less - and my Nikes are calling to me.
I'll be covering four miles in my morning run. Which is to say, 136 fewer than the total covered by participants in the Ironman World Championship triathlon, held on the Big Island every October. The Ironman, which encompasses running, swimming and bicycling, is perhaps the most grueling sporting event in the world. But some of the competitors say the breathtaking scenery makes up for it. My run takes me past beautiful Poipu Beach - named the best in the country by the Travel Channel a few years ago - but 20 minutes into it, I'm ready for a mai tai.
10:00 a.m.: My father, who grew up a Babe Ruth home run away from Yankee Stadium, likes to tell me about how he played stickball with his childhood chums in an empty lot near his house. Hawaii is one of the last places in the United States where the empty lot still can play a prominent role in your childhood.
Throughout my childhood here, all of the kids in our neighborhood gathered at these lots to play a smorgasbord of sports: soccer, tackle football, pickle, etc. But today, we're playing nagolsha, a game so complex you know it had to be invented by a bunch of bored children on a lazy summer afternoon.
In nagolsha, you roll or throw a tennis ball at seven rocks stacked on top of each other 30 feet way. The team that knocks the rocks down has to rebuild them - without being hit by a tennis ball. If you're hit, the other team wins.
Just as I'm about to put the last rock on top, a tennis ball smacks me squarely in the face. But the pain is dulled by knowing that lunchtime is just around the corner.
12:30 p.m.: After a plate lunch of lau lau chicken, two scoops of white rice and a side of macaroni salad at a local hole-in-the-wall, it's time to hit the beach, the epicenter of Hawaiian sports.
If ocean sports are the state's pastime, then consider the North Shore of Oahu Hawaii's Fenway Park. Twenty foot swells are a regular occurrence there, as some of the best surfers in the world test their mettle against Mother Nature. When most people from the mainland think of surfing, movies like "Blue Crush" pop in their head. But any local resident worth his weight in salt water thinks of Duke Kahanamoku every time he attacks a wave. Even though he's been dead for forty yearss, Duke may still be the best-known - and most celebrated - Hawaiian.
Duke was the fastest swimmer in the world in the 1910s and 1920s, winning three gold medals and two silvers at the Olympics. He was so fast that, when he broke the world record for the 100-meter freestyle by 4.6 seconds, the sport's governing body initially refused to recognize the feat. He is also one of Hawaii's most highly touted surfers.
Today, we won't be standing on a board, but rather lying on one. Brennecke's Beach, our current destination, is one of the premiere spots for bodyboarding (please, please, please don't call it boogie boarding). The waves here are great, but the story of how the beach was saved is even better.
Hurricanes are a constant threat to the Islands, and, in 1992, a massive one ravaged Kauai. Hurricane Iniki, a Category 5 storm, destroyed everything in its path, demolishing 1,400 homes and killing six people. Iniki also washed away much of Brennecke's Beach.
But before many homes were even rebuilt, Kauaians worked together to save the beach. Using pickup trucks and wheelbarrows, locals brought tons of sand and rocks to reshape the beach - without any compensation.
So whether I catch a good wave today is unimportant. Simply being able to bodyboard here is a victory.
4:00 p.m.: At the time when most golfers are finishing their rounds, my brother and I begin mine.
Simply put, Hawaiians are golf crazy. The state hosts numerous PGA, LPGA and Champions Tour tournaments, and has more golf courses per capita than anywhere else in the country.
But it's not just the country club types who tee it up here. Hawaii has some of the best youth golf programs in the country. Thanks to one of these programs, my brother and I are playing the Poipu Bay Golf Course - home to the PGA Grand Slam of golf, an event Tiger Woods has won seven times - for free.
These programs have produced stars such as Dean Wilson, Michelle Wie and the aforementioned Todd Fujikawa, who is responsible for the best underdog story of the golf season. In front of a hometown crowd at the Sony Open in Oahu, Fujikawa, who is five-foot-five-inches, shot two 66s and threatened the leaders throughout the weekend before finishing 20th, ahead of golf luminaries like Ernie Els and Vijay Singh.
Our rounds are about 30 strokes worse than Fujikawa's. But the beautiful scenery almost makes up for it.
8:00 p.m.: If there's one thing Hawaiians are more passionate about than surfing, it's the University of Hawaii football team. If you drive down any main road in Hawaii during the football season, you're guaranteed to see, at minimum, 15 signs proclaiming, "GO 'BOWS!"
The Warriors are now a perennial powerhouse in the Western Athletic Conference. They regularly reach bowl games, and play in the 50,000-seat Aloha Stadium, which also hosts the NFL's Pro Bowl.
The Warriors' beginnings, however, aren't quite as glamorous: it took two years for the team to even win a game.
But Hawaii football was put on the map when, in 1923, Hawaii shocked the world by defeating Oregon State, 7-0. At the end of the game, a rainbow appeared over the field, providing Hawaii with its appropriate nickname.
Tonight, Colt Brennan, who holds the NCAA record for touchdowns in a season, adds five more to his total. But Jared Zebransky's arm and Ian Johnson's feet prove too much for the Warriors, as rival Boise State earns the victory.
For a while I'm disappointed. This is not how I want a near-perfect day in paradise to end.
But then something happens that takes the sting out of the loss.
Some of the kids in the neighborhood appear on our porch.
"Hey, Steve! You want to come and play flashlight tag?"
I think about saying, "No." After all, I'm a 20-year-old college student. The last thing I should be doing is playing a game of tag.
But then I realize, sports in Hawaii isn't about the glitz and glamour professional teams. It's about running with the roosters when the sun comes up, bodyboarding at Brennecke's with your friends and playing golf (poorly) with your brother.
And besides, I've got some unfinished business to attend to after losing at nagolsha.
- Contact Steven Stein at satein@learnlink.emory.edu
Paradise Isn't Limited to Beaches in Aloha State
By: Steven Stein
Issue date: 2/27/07 Section: Sports
PrintEmail Article Tools Page 1 of 1 When the news brief appeared in front of him, the ESPN anchor refused to read it.
"Chaminade beats top-ranked Virginia, 77-72."
There was no way this NAIA school that the anchor hadn't even heard of defeated the top-ranked team in the country. Guided by the best player in college basketball, 7-foot-4 Ralph Sampson, the University of Virginia had just defeated Patrick Ewing's Georgetown University Hoyas. Chaminade College (Hawaii) had just come off a lost to Wayland Baptist (Hawaii).
But in a sweltering bandbox in rural Maui, none of that mattered.
Before North Carolina State and George Mason, there was Chaminade. Chaminade's victory - which inspired T-shirts reading, "Yes, Virginia, there is a Chaminade" - is the ultimate Cinderella story. And it's only fitting that this story took place in Hawaii.
Hawaii is the ultimate underdog state when it comes to sports. The state lacks a professional sports team, and has only one major college sports program, but its residents are still sports crazy. When someone from Hawaii does something notable in the sports world - like when then-15-year-old golfer Todd Fujikawa played in the U.S. Open last year - it's front page news.
Of course, when you think of Hawaii and sports, you don't necessarily think of the hardwood. The ocean, specifically Hawaii's 664 miles of coastline, come to mind.
For me, 90 miles of that coastline have special significance. I've been lucky enough to spend the summer and winter in Kauai, one of the Hawaiian Islands, since my second birthday.
So instead of listing you a bunch of facts about Hawaii sports, I'm going to do what the locals call talkin' story. I'm going to describe to you a typical Saturday on Kauai:
7:30 a.m.: Cockadoodledoo!
Who needs an alarm in paradise? Wild roosters roam the streets here, and they definitely make their presence felt. Normally I wouldn't be pleased by an unplanned wakeup call this early. But it's already in the mid-70s - in December, no less - and my Nikes are calling to me.
I'll be covering four miles in my morning run. Which is to say, 136 fewer than the total covered by participants in the Ironman World Championship triathlon, held on the Big Island every October. The Ironman, which encompasses running, swimming and bicycling, is perhaps the most grueling sporting event in the world. But some of the competitors say the breathtaking scenery makes up for it. My run takes me past beautiful Poipu Beach - named the best in the country by the Travel Channel a few years ago - but 20 minutes into it, I'm ready for a mai tai.
10:00 a.m.: My father, who grew up a Babe Ruth home run away from Yankee Stadium, likes to tell me about how he played stickball with his childhood chums in an empty lot near his house. Hawaii is one of the last places in the United States where the empty lot still can play a prominent role in your childhood.
Throughout my childhood here, all of the kids in our neighborhood gathered at these lots to play a smorgasbord of sports: soccer, tackle football, pickle, etc. But today, we're playing nagolsha, a game so complex you know it had to be invented by a bunch of bored children on a lazy summer afternoon.
In nagolsha, you roll or throw a tennis ball at seven rocks stacked on top of each other 30 feet way. The team that knocks the rocks down has to rebuild them - without being hit by a tennis ball. If you're hit, the other team wins.
Just as I'm about to put the last rock on top, a tennis ball smacks me squarely in the face. But the pain is dulled by knowing that lunchtime is just around the corner.
12:30 p.m.: After a plate lunch of lau lau chicken, two scoops of white rice and a side of macaroni salad at a local hole-in-the-wall, it's time to hit the beach, the epicenter of Hawaiian sports.
If ocean sports are the state's pastime, then consider the North Shore of Oahu Hawaii's Fenway Park. Twenty foot swells are a regular occurrence there, as some of the best surfers in the world test their mettle against Mother Nature. When most people from the mainland think of surfing, movies like "Blue Crush" pop in their head. But any local resident worth his weight in salt water thinks of Duke Kahanamoku every time he attacks a wave. Even though he's been dead for forty yearss, Duke may still be the best-known - and most celebrated - Hawaiian.
Duke was the fastest swimmer in the world in the 1910s and 1920s, winning three gold medals and two silvers at the Olympics. He was so fast that, when he broke the world record for the 100-meter freestyle by 4.6 seconds, the sport's governing body initially refused to recognize the feat. He is also one of Hawaii's most highly touted surfers.
Today, we won't be standing on a board, but rather lying on one. Brennecke's Beach, our current destination, is one of the premiere spots for bodyboarding (please, please, please don't call it boogie boarding). The waves here are great, but the story of how the beach was saved is even better.
Hurricanes are a constant threat to the Islands, and, in 1992, a massive one ravaged Kauai. Hurricane Iniki, a Category 5 storm, destroyed everything in its path, demolishing 1,400 homes and killing six people. Iniki also washed away much of Brennecke's Beach.
But before many homes were even rebuilt, Kauaians worked together to save the beach. Using pickup trucks and wheelbarrows, locals brought tons of sand and rocks to reshape the beach - without any compensation.
So whether I catch a good wave today is unimportant. Simply being able to bodyboard here is a victory.
4:00 p.m.: At the time when most golfers are finishing their rounds, my brother and I begin mine.
Simply put, Hawaiians are golf crazy. The state hosts numerous PGA, LPGA and Champions Tour tournaments, and has more golf courses per capita than anywhere else in the country.
But it's not just the country club types who tee it up here. Hawaii has some of the best youth golf programs in the country. Thanks to one of these programs, my brother and I are playing the Poipu Bay Golf Course - home to the PGA Grand Slam of golf, an event Tiger Woods has won seven times - for free.
These programs have produced stars such as Dean Wilson, Michelle Wie and the aforementioned Todd Fujikawa, who is responsible for the best underdog story of the golf season. In front of a hometown crowd at the Sony Open in Oahu, Fujikawa, who is five-foot-five-inches, shot two 66s and threatened the leaders throughout the weekend before finishing 20th, ahead of golf luminaries like Ernie Els and Vijay Singh.
Our rounds are about 30 strokes worse than Fujikawa's. But the beautiful scenery almost makes up for it.
8:00 p.m.: If there's one thing Hawaiians are more passionate about than surfing, it's the University of Hawaii football team. If you drive down any main road in Hawaii during the football season, you're guaranteed to see, at minimum, 15 signs proclaiming, "GO 'BOWS!"
The Warriors are now a perennial powerhouse in the Western Athletic Conference. They regularly reach bowl games, and play in the 50,000-seat Aloha Stadium, which also hosts the NFL's Pro Bowl.
The Warriors' beginnings, however, aren't quite as glamorous: it took two years for the team to even win a game.
But Hawaii football was put on the map when, in 1923, Hawaii shocked the world by defeating Oregon State, 7-0. At the end of the game, a rainbow appeared over the field, providing Hawaii with its appropriate nickname.
Tonight, Colt Brennan, who holds the NCAA record for touchdowns in a season, adds five more to his total. But Jared Zebransky's arm and Ian Johnson's feet prove too much for the Warriors, as rival Boise State earns the victory.
For a while I'm disappointed. This is not how I want a near-perfect day in paradise to end.
But then something happens that takes the sting out of the loss.
Some of the kids in the neighborhood appear on our porch.
"Hey, Steve! You want to come and play flashlight tag?"
I think about saying, "No." After all, I'm a 20-year-old college student. The last thing I should be doing is playing a game of tag.
But then I realize, sports in Hawaii isn't about the glitz and glamour professional teams. It's about running with the roosters when the sun comes up, bodyboarding at Brennecke's with your friends and playing golf (poorly) with your brother.
And besides, I've got some unfinished business to attend to after losing at nagolsha.
- Contact Steven Stein at satein@learnlink.emory.edu