On Sunday, I was watching the Bears game with my dad. At the start of the second half, when the Bears were receiving the kickoff, the ball was kicked way over Devin Hester's head. My dad then complained how Hester didn't get a chance to return the ball. At this point I realized that my dad was unaware of the new Kickoff Rule that moves the kickoff from the 30 yard line to the 35 yard line. As a result of this new rule, the number of touchbacks has greatly increased. The rule change is in an effort to lessen injuries created by high speed collisions on kickoffs.
Once I had explained this to my dad, all he said was, "But wait, that's part of the game. They can't just get rid of it." This made me question whether the NFL should make drastic changes to the game to make it safer. This rule change is particularly frustrating for teams that have invested huge sums of money for high profile returners and years of development for talented rookie returners. Since 2006, when Hester joined the Bears, special teams has been an exciting phase for fans and a huge threat to the other team. It's definitely not something that fans or teams want to lose.
Two talented and famous kickoff
returners, Josh Cribbs and Devin Hester.
Courtesy of Barstool Sports.
I understand the stresses on eliminating helmet-to-helmet hits and defenders leading with their helmets. That's different. Players can tackle without hitting helmets and causing concussions. But when the NFL threatens to almost eliminate a whole phase of the game, that seems to go too far. Football has been unsafe for years and everybody knows that. Monday's news is overrun by injury reports, some minor and some season ending. ACL's are still tearing, arms are still breaking, and heads are still concussing with or without the kickoff change. The league shouldn't compromise such a vital and exciting part of the game because of safety concerns, when the rest of the game is just as unsafe and injury laden. Soon enough, they will be pulling flags instead of tackling.
Ever since I finished Into The Wild, I have wanted to watch the film written and directed by Sean Penn. I had heard many good things about the movie, and since I liked the book, I thought it would be a good idea.
Now that I've finished, I'm dissatisfied. Sure, the acting and the format of the film were great, but I don't think the movie reflected Chris McCandless and his journey in the same way that Jon Krakauer did in his book. It all seemed too simple. Sean Penn answered too many questions, that as Krakauer explained, simply couldn't be answered.
Chris and Tracy in the movie
What was particularly frustrating, was his creation of the romance between Chris and Tracy. In the book, that was a minor detail: a girl had a crush on him, he did not reciprocate it. But in the movie, it played out into this dramatic montage where Chris spent lots of time with her. Now, this may have happened for all we know, but Krakauer did not include this in his book. If he had found that Chris' relationship with the girl had been significant, he would have included it. I know this because Krakauer studied the relationships that Chris made so that he could understand him. This relationship that Penn creates makes Chris seem too normal. One of Krakauer's biggest points in his book was that Chris didn't need female companionship or companionship at all. He didn't to be involved with women or surround himself with loving people to feel complete. I know that Penn wanted to have romance in the movie and used his creative license to do that. But with a story so complex and serious as Chris', I don't think he should have had the right to that creative license. The story isn't about love. It's about Chris' journey and what was going on in his mind.
Penn failed to show these things. As a film, disconnected from the book and story, it was enjoyable. Ron Franz's character was stunning and extremely moving. The voiceovers from Carine were well done and strong narrative. But the movie shouldn't have to be disconnected from the book to be good. They are a package deal. The movie should compliment the book, not fictionalize it.
Around the world, people watch shows like Jersey Shore, Teen Mom, and Keeping Up With the Kardashians (do they even deserve to be in italics?). These shows are advertised as reality shows with all events being real and not scripted. Most people, though, know that this simply isn't true. Whether it's scenes being reshot numerous times, or cast members being told to argue about a certain topic, reality TV is no longer "real."
This brings me to my topic: can a fiction TV drama actually be more realistic that the aforementioned reality shows? The show is Friday Night Lights, an NBC drama that recently ended its fifth and final season. Now, I know this show is scripted. I know that there is no way Lyla Garrity and Tyra Collete, two female leads, could ever actually be in high school. I know that the plot lines on the show haven't really happened to one specific place.
Tami Taylor and Coach Eric Taylor,
two of the show's main characters
But I also know that Dillon, Texas, the show's fictitious setting, is as real as any West Texas, football-crazed town. The show realistically portrays a happily married couple who fights, a very average quarterback who must step up to the spotlight, and a town that is football.
Even more, FNL cameramen only used three small and easily mobile cameras, instead of numerous large, stable cameras like many shows use. They also didn't rehearse lines or scenes before filming.
They only used sets when they needed to, which was rare. For characters' houses, they used actual houses in Austin, Texas. In an interview for a Grantland piece, the Riggins' house was discussed. Producer Jeffrey Reiner said, "The Riggins' house was a shithole." Taylor Kitsch, who plays Tim Riggins said, "It reeked. There was mold. The pool was filled with sludge." The even found a real Texas state championship ring in a bedroom in the house. They wanted to create a real environment that looked, smelled, felt, and sounded like Dillon, Texas. And they did.
This in contrast to Jersey Shore, where MTV rented out the pizza place the cast "worked" at and controlled who was allowed in. Reality isn't a show where the eight cast members are supposed to represent "real Italian people," but in fact infuriate them and embarrass them.
Don't get me wrong: I enjoy watching Jersey Shore just as much as the next guy. Its funny, entertaining, and mindless. But it isn't real, and I know that. When I watch FNL, I feel something. I laugh with the characters, I cheer with the characters, and I even cry with the characters. It's a mystery to me why FNL struggled throughout its five-year running to get good ratings. The show even ran on DirecTV for seasons three though five, and then episodes were rerun on NBC. Its hard for me to understand why Jersey Shore is the American reality show that trends on Twitter, and Friday Night Lights is that sports drama on NBC that never lived up to its potential.
Above is the speech that ended the pilot episode of FNL. It is known as one of the best episodes of the show, and most of the best pilot's in recent years.
The crater created by the crash where cleanup crews
look for any part of the plane.
For art class, we were given a very broad preliminary assignment: research something about 9/11 that interests you and think about how you could transfer that to a work of art. My first thought was flight 93, the plane that crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania after the passengers on the plane diverted the plane from the planned target, the Capitol building. This plane's story got very little attention compared to that day's other tragedies, as one would expect, with only 40 deaths. I found a 20 page article written by the Post-Gazette that covered the background information of almost all 40 passengers and crew members and also reported the phone calls made from the plane. The article says, "Flight 93 became an asterisk to a day of horror..." That said, I believe this story to be just as moving and horrifying.
What got my attention most though, were the phone conversations that the passengers had with their loved ones. It seemed odd to me that they were the ones reassuring their family, even though they were minutes from death. One passenger, Elizabeth Wainio, said, "It hurts me that it's going to be so much harder for you all than it is for me."
I cannot even begin to fathom how their family felt. One second everything is okay, and the next second your brother, sister, husband, wife, son, or daughter is saying "I love you," and that the plane they boarded so routinely this morning, has been hijacked by terrorists. The plane that you dropped them off for, not even bothering to get out of the car to kiss them goodbye, has been taken over. You were going to see them in a couple days anyway. No big deal. Just another flight. But then the phone rang and you spoke your last words to your loved one. At this point in the day, you had already that the Twin Towers had gone down. Yes, you were sad and concerned, but you weren't personally affected. Until the phone rang. Now you wish you could do everything differently. Now you wish you hadn't rescheduled that flight.
Among the grief there was, and still is, another feeling felt by the loved ones of the victims: pride. Pride for these men and women who came together for a greater cause. They knew death was basically inevitable for them, but things weren't completely out of their control. They attempted to take the plane back over. While they failed to enter the cockpit, the terrorists chose to crash the plane because of the unrest in the cabin. With death, they protected the lives of others.
This story makes me ask myself how I would feel if I was personally affected by the crash. Of course I would be overwhelmed with grief, but would I be proud, angry, or horrified? Maybe all three.
