Last Friday night I decided to attend the girl's high school playoff basketball game between Okoboji and Hartley-Melvin-Sanborn. I went with the intention of cheering for Okoboji. After all, I live in Okoboji and work in Milford (where the actual school is). By the time I arrived the Okoboji side of the gym was full so I found a spot among the HMS fans. After a few minutes of watching as I munched on the obligatory popcorn, I couldn't help but pull for HMS. They were a senior dominated team that passed the ball well and had some sweet assists. They also played hard on defense. Those two things make basketball a team sport and a beautiful game. Okoboji has only 2 seniors but a couple of key players who had a soft shooting touch both inside and out. They played some tough defense as well and hit their free throws at the end to hold off the HMS come back and win by 7 after being up by 16. As a reward for winning, Okoboji got to play Unity Christian, the undefeated #1 team in the state whose average margin of victory has been 36 points a game. Okoboji turned out to be pretty average and was defeated by 38 points.
High school basketball has plenty of travel calls, turnovers, and missed shots. But it also has fans who make the cheerleaders irrelevant and no TV time-outs or instant replay to interrupt the flow of the game. I'll be watching/following the state tournament next week to see how the Northwest Iowa teams do. One of my co-workers also refs high school basketball so our morning conversation has often included the latest results. Our patients listen in and we've learned that some of them have been listening to the games on the radio. As we (therapists and patients) follow the area teams next week we'll try to remember that we are there to do some therapy. I can only imagine what it will be like when March Madness rolls around.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Monday, February 9, 2015
Drag Races
On my daily drive to work I drive between East Lake and West Lake. I've observed the skating "rink" shoveled out on West Lake with no one enjoying it when I go by around 8:30. This week the old car was parked on West Lake where it will sit until it falls through the ice. You can bet on when it will fall through the ice after which first responder divers will use it for practice before it is pulled out of the lake to dry out until next winter. Last Wednesday I noticed snow being removed over a long stretch on East Lake. The next day flags were being placed in the ice at regular intervals to form lanes. Friday one of my co-workers noticed a Zamboni out on the ice. At least six of us were in the therapy room discussing the question of the day, "What is going on?" Google didn't even have the answer. Another co-worker walked through the room giving the name of the person to call. The next thing we knew, one of our patients was on his phone. After a short conversation he reported, "snowmobile races."
Saturday I was scheduled to take Elizabeth, my niece, and Vicky, my sister-in-law from Dallas on an outing. Elizabeth wasn't feeling well so Vicky and I set out for the Lakes. The day was warm (40˚) and sunny so it was a great day to stand on the ice and watch the vintage snowmobiles drag race for 200 yards/meters down the ice. Vicky and I watched for almost 2 hours as all her senses were filled with northern culture: the sound of revving engines and burst down the ice (I was wishing I had brought some ear plugs), the smell of diesel being burned by old engines, the feel of the cold ice under our feet, the sight of children playing and being able to identify the winner from 120 yards or more away.... Vicky was actually quite good at picking the winner, even when it was close. The start made all the difference in the world as there was only a couple of come-from-behind victories. I never did figure out where the start signal came from or how they actually decided the ultimate winner in each category since the same snowmobiles raced against each other numerous times in what was announced to be the "final." We left a couple of hours after we had arrived feeling revived by the stark contrast from our individual daily routines even though we had little feeling left in our feet.
Saturday I was scheduled to take Elizabeth, my niece, and Vicky, my sister-in-law from Dallas on an outing. Elizabeth wasn't feeling well so Vicky and I set out for the Lakes. The day was warm (40˚) and sunny so it was a great day to stand on the ice and watch the vintage snowmobiles drag race for 200 yards/meters down the ice. Vicky and I watched for almost 2 hours as all her senses were filled with northern culture: the sound of revving engines and burst down the ice (I was wishing I had brought some ear plugs), the smell of diesel being burned by old engines, the feel of the cold ice under our feet, the sight of children playing and being able to identify the winner from 120 yards or more away.... Vicky was actually quite good at picking the winner, even when it was close. The start made all the difference in the world as there was only a couple of come-from-behind victories. I never did figure out where the start signal came from or how they actually decided the ultimate winner in each category since the same snowmobiles raced against each other numerous times in what was announced to be the "final." We left a couple of hours after we had arrived feeling revived by the stark contrast from our individual daily routines even though we had little feeling left in our feet.
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