Minnesota Sports

Notwithstanding the football Gophers’ upset win over Washington State in the relatively meaningless Holiday Bowl, this has been a dreadful year for a Minnesota sports fan. I don’t know why, or if this is at all peculiar to Minnesota, but pessimism has been my normal state since I moved there, and it has carried over to my non-resident fandom. Maybe it’s because the Vikings never won the Super Bowl, because Gary Anderson missed the kick, because Brett Favre’s pass was intercepted, because the Twins always fall to the Yankees, because the Gophers can’t compete with the Ohio States of the Big Ten or because the Timberwolves are the Timberwolves, I don’t know. Every community has its share of heartbreaks – think of Buffalo’s four Super Bowl losses, the Cubs’ hundred years without a championship, or Cleveland’s general misery before 2016 – and for every winner there are dozens of losers; so my view may be more the norm than I admit. But the fact remains that I expect every comeback to fall short and every draft choice to be a disappointment.
The Twins, as noted previously, set a team record for futility this summer. The only cause of optimism is the fact they have a new General Manager, although that fix usually takes several years to produce results. Their young superstars-to-be, Miguel Sano and Byron Buxton, had better start living up to their hype or the future will be bleak. The Vikings started the fall miraculously, going 5-0 with, first, a backup quarterback then a dominant defense. They gave away a game to the Lions and, seemingly, their confidence and their season unraveled from there, at first slowly and now precipitously. The T-Wolves excited their fan base with the prospect of a new, proven coach guiding three 21-year-old athletic phenoms. Things might be rough at first, but surely this bunch would start to deliver on its promise. Instead, they have held big leads in almost every game only to fall short at the end; and as we know, it is only the last five minutes of an NBA game that really matters. I am less invested in the U of M’s football team, but they, too, were a tease: holding second-half leads over the likes of Penn State, Iowa and Wisconsin and finishing with a respectable 9-4 record, but without a “signature” win. There is an NHL team currently on a winning streak, but I can’t follow every sport and, except for three years reporting at Harvard, hockey has never interested me.
Perhaps I should file for divorce from Minnesota, now that I no longer live there. If Santa Barbara had a team, maybe I would, but I doubt I will ever identify with Los Angeles – the New York City of the West Coast. The Minnesota scene is still manageable, and I enjoy the StarTribune sports section each morning, so I expect I will stick. I just wish there were more fellow fans out here to commiserate with.

Cubs 8 – Indians 7

The two most exciting words in sports are “Game Seven,” and last night’s World Series win by the Chicago Cubs lived up to that reputation and all the hype surrounding the Cubbies’ first championship in 108 years. But in terms of baseball esthetics, it wasn’t a “great” game. It was marred by sloppy defense, bad umpiring, questionable managing and tired pitching. The game also lacked drama for its entire midsection, as Chicago posted leads of 5-1 and 6-2 that seemed insurmountable. And ultimately, you’d like a Game 7 to come down to a face-off between one team’s best pitcher and the other’s best clutch hitter (I still think of 1962 when the Giants’ last two hitters against the Yankees were Willie Mays – hit – and Willie McCovey – line drive to second). Last night, the little-known and seldom-used Mike Montgomery was pitching to the 25th man on the Cleveland roster, Michael Martinez, who hit a dribbler to third. Adding to the anticlimax, Rajai Davis was trying to steal second on the pitch which, if Martinez had not swung, would have either produced a more dramatic ending or given the Indians a runner in scoring position. As it was, the only drama came from Kris Bryant’s slipping on the wet field as he threw to first, an appropriate p.s. to the sloppy play.
By sloppy play I’d point first to Javier Baez’s two errors at second for the Cubs and Davis’s allowing two Cub runs by failing to get set and make good throws on two fly balls to center. Addison Russell flubbed a ball at short and two Indians scored on a wild pitch that bounced off the catcher’s mask, one batter after they had advanced on the catcher’s throwing error.
The bad umpiring was epitomized by the out call at second when Baez obviously failed to catch the ball. This was reversed by instant replay (which saves us from the famous World Series gaffes of yesteryear but breaks the natural rhythm of the game. It’s also a bit jarring to see umpire John Hirshbeck raise his right arm so authoritatively after receiving word from New York that he blew the call), but there was nothing to do about the strike-three and ball-four calls that Sam Holbrook got wrong behind the plate. Both teams benefitted from the missed calls – which were not even borderline pitches, according to the FoxTrax box – although Bryant’s walk on a great 3-2 pitch by Andrew Miller in the 5th led directly to a run when he scored on Anthony Rizzo’s two-out single that followed.
Joe Maddon and Terry Francona had been hailed as co-geniuses through six games because of their adroit lineup changes and unorthodox use of their pitchers, but neither came out unscathed from Game 7. Maddon’s decision to remove starter Kyle Hendricks in the 5th was roundly second-guessed by every commentator – both at the time because he had been so effective and his only apparent sin was giving up his first walk of the night, and afterward because of the comparative ineffectiveness of everyone that followed. The second consensus flaw in Maddon’s strategy was his overuse of closer Aroldis Chapman, who did not need to have been used at all in Game 6 and because of overuse in Games 5, 6 and 7 was nowhere as overpowering as usual, giving up a booming double to Brandon Guyer and the game-tying home run to Davis. He brought in Jon Lester in mid-inning, despite his promise not to, and two runs resulted. The only Cubs pitcher not charged with a run was the aforesaid Montgomery, who recorded the first save of his career with two pitches to the aforesaid Martinez.
Francona fared no better. Undoubtedly because of prior usage, three of his four aces gave up multiple runs. I was sure before the game that Corey Kluber would not be asked to pitch beyond the 4th, regardless of his success, because he had pitched so much already – and the Cubs had seen him so much. Despite a relative lack of success – having given up three runs and struck out nobody, as opposed to eight strikeouts in three innings in his first Series start – Francona let Kluber start the 5th and the result was a homer by Baez, otherwise the worst Chicago hitter in the Series. The next home run was even more unexpected, coming off the bat of 39-year-old David Ross, in the game merely to catch Lester, and it came off Andrew Miller, also worn down, or exposed, by heavy use. It’s hard to second-guess Francona’s use of Bryan Shaw, who gave up the two 10th-inning runs, although the 17-minute rain delay in between his innings could have disrupted him and prompted a manager to bring in a fresh arm – if he had someone as good. Where Francona’s strategy more clearly backfired was his decision to give Anthony Rizzo an intentional walk: Rizzo ultimately scored the winning run.
So, if you compare 2016 with 1960, where the game goes back-and-forth and ends with a home run; or 1991, where Jack Morris wins a 1-0 game in ten innings (and pitches 23 innings with three runs allowed overall), this is not one of the all-time great Game Sevens. Still, it was pretty good and, when Rajai Davis took Chapman deep in the 8th to tie a seemingly lost game, it had all the excitement you could want.

The Vikings 2016

Since the Vikings games are so rarely broadcast on the West Coast, I watched with particular interest (via DVR) their surprising 17-14 win over the Packers in their home opener. I say “surprising” because I am still enough of a Minnesotan that I expect the worst from any tense situation, and having the ball in Aaron Rodgers’s hands with time left and only a 3-point lead is tense.
My first takeaway is how impressed I was with Sam Bradford. Forget that he had only been on the team two weeks and that, with or without Adrian Peterson, he had no running game to use. He made passes that I haven’t seen a Viking quarterback make in years. Not the dinks of Daunte Culpepper, not the “game management” of Teddy Bridgewater, these were legitimate 20-yard throws into the smallest of windows. On both his touchdown passes – first to Kyle Rudolph, then to Stefon Diggs – the receivers were covered but his throws were perfect.
My second reaction, however, was “more of the same”: namely, the inferiority of the offensive line. Again, I don’t know how many years it has been since I’ve seen a Viking quarterback able to stand in the pocket and pick out a receiver without fearing for his life, the way Tom Brady and Peyton Manning routinely do. This may be why the Viking offense has relied so heavily on check-down passes. Bradford, as I saw it, never had the luxury of looking for a secondary receiver and more often than not had a Packer in his face as he threw. The TV announcer singled out Brandon Fusco as being particulary unable to slow down his man, and replays show Matt Kalil flailing as his rusher raced by him. The two off-season additions to the line were considered “average” in assessments I had read, and there doesn’t seem to have been any upgrade from the draft. It’s hard to see how the Vikings will be able to “improve” their offensive line as the season progresses, which will make it a challenge for Bradford to remain healthy (he did suffer one injury already, to his non-throwing hand) and as charged up as he must have been for his debut.
Third, the Viking secondary must be a strength, if not the main strength of this squad. Just the fact they have held two NFL opponents to 16 and 14 points is remarkable. More than that, you couldn’t help notice how much trouble Rodgers had in finding someone to throw to. Several times he counted to five and just threw the ball out of bounds. When he was sacked – and it happened four times – he always had time to throw first but couldn’t pull the trigger. The Packers’ main offensive weapon was the defensive interference penalty – two by the oldest Viking defender, three by the youngest. You have to think that coaching, practice and experience can eliminate much of this problem. Trae Waynes, who isn’t even a regular starter, was always right with his man; he just made unnecessary grabs at the receiver’s jersey. And Green Bay’s last touchdown came on a long scramble by Rodgers – when he couldn’t find anyone to throw to.
In sum, there is considerable hope for the season. The Vikings have a major weakness – bad offensive line and weak running attack – but there don’t seem to be any world-beaters in the (injury-prone) NFL this year. Their defense should keep them in most games, and if Bradford stays healthy they have a quarterback who can make deep throws and good decisions. Diggs, Rudolph and Adam Thielen provide an above-average receiving corps, with competent backups. Cordarelle Patterson and Marcus Sherels are good kickoff and punt returners, and Blair Walsh better be good. I’m sorry I won’t get to see more of their games.

Molitor’s Choice

The Twins blogosphere is critical of owner Jim Pohlad’s announced intention to retain Paul Molitor as next year’s manager, regardless of the wishes of the next general manager, for whom Pohlad is currently searching. Any potential general manager worth his salt, the thinking goes, will want to install his own field manager, as that is the decision that will bear most directly on his own success or failure. The obvious answer, to my mind, is that owners change their “votes of confidence” with regularity and impunity, and there’s little reason to believe Jim Pohlad will provide an exception to this practice. There’s more reason to believe that Pohlad feels he must make this statement in order for Molitor to retain credibility with his players for the rest of this season, until a new GM is hired. Coaches and managers are notorious for resigning when they are not given contract extensions beyond one year for just this reason. Why would a player with today’s pampered ego and a guaranteed five-year contract pay attention to a manager in his lame-duck season?
The bigger question, which so far as I know has gone unanswered, is, why would Molitor want to come back and manage these Twins another year? For three weeks or so, they had one of the better records in the Majors and fielded a starting lineup (when Miguel Sano wasn’t playing) with no one hitting under .255. Max Kepler and Jorge Polanco looked like legitimate Major Leaguers in their first half-seasons, Brian Dozier had regained his All-Star form and Ervin Santana pitched like the number one starter he was signed to be. There appeared to be hope for 2017. Then another collapse came. Kansas City and Detroit swept the Twins, easily, and the Blue Jays won tonight, 15-8. The Twins have matched their low point below .500 for the season.
What does Molitor see when he looks ahead? For too many years, the Twins have projected a rebound year in 2017 based on the potential of Sano and Byron Buxton. Sano, however, is half the player this year that he was as a rookie. Buxton has failed to hit Major League pitching despite being handed the centerfield job three times already and is scuffling in the minors. Both, too, are injury-prone. Very few, anymore, are dreaming that Sano and Buxton will take the Twins anywhere. Mauer can only get worse, Plouffe will never be consistent, Grossman will likely remain a journeyman, catching is a future weak spot and there’s no long-term substitute for Buxton in center. But this shaky defensive unit looks good compared to the Twins pitching, and that’s the ultimate key. The two brightest spots for the future – Jose Berrios and Tyler Duffey – were just exiled to AAA out of management’s frustration that they don’t seem to learn anything. Kyle Gibson, the only proven homegrown talent, has a horrific game for every good one. Twins fans were delighted to get rid of Ricky Nolasco, but Hector Santiago, whom they got in exchange, has so far been worse.
It’s one thing to coach a losing team if they respond to instruction, you see them improving, and the future looks promising. None of these, however, apply to the current roster of Twins. If I were Paul Molitor, I would announce I’m resigning at season’s end, before anyone can fire me.

Golf Rule

In all the controversy over the slight rotation of Dustin Johnson’s ball during the last round of this year’s U.S. Open, the complaints have been about how the USGA officials handled the possible rule infraction, not whether the rule itself was stupid. It seemed rather clear to me that when the ball, sitting on the fifth green, moved one dimple after he grounded his putter beside it, his action was the proximate cause and, under the applicable rule, he had to take a penalty stroke. The official on the spot was wrong to tell him otherwise, although I don’t blame him for not thinking quickly enough in the pressure of that situation. Once the officials decided a video review was necessary, they clearly had to tell the player and ask him if he could think of any reason the ball had moved. Allowing for all due process, it’s easy to see that it would take another couple of holes to reach a determination, which means Johnson – and all the field still on the course – should have been advised of the penalty stroke no later than Johnson’s 14th hole. That’s still a problem, but not as bad as waiting for the round’s conclusion, as occurred.

But no one is asking, why is there such a rule in the first place? Why penalize a player for conduct that in no way helps him? The ball was further from the cup after it moved – how is that a benefit? If there is no advantage gained, why penalize? More appropriately, the rule could be written that if any act of the player not otherwise addressed in the rules has the result of advancing the ball, the player shall be penalized a stroke.

The silly strictness of golf rules contributes to the elite nature of the game. The beginner, even the average player (like myself), doesn’t know all the rules and is made to feel like he’s not quite in the club. Of course, the average player (like myself) willfully ignores even some of the rules he does know. If your club accidentally touches the ball before you strike it, that’s a penalty. If your club accidentally touches the sand before your bunker shot, that’s a penalty. Neither gives you an unfair advantage over your opponent or the course. There are even more arcane penalties, such as two strokes if your shot bounces back and hits you, even though this could never be an intentional result of cheating, nor is it appropriate compensation for any yardage saved by your body being in the way.

Golf is tough enough as it is. Why have rules that serve no purpose but make it harder?

Typical Twins

The Twins offense had an unusually good night against the Tampa Bay Rays last night: Nunez had two hits, two stolen bases and two runs, although his ground-ball double play with the bases loaded in the fifth was the decisive losing moment. Joe Mauer had two singles with men in scoring position, although only one scored and the game was out of reach by then. Brian Dozier had two hits – best of all a rare double to rightfield, albeit on a weak swing. And even Byron Buxton had a two-hit game and showed off his speed on the bases. Max Kepler made two plays in right that Sano would not have. The Twins and Rays both had 11 hits. Four of the Rays’ hits, though, were home runs.

On the negative side, Trevor Plouffe batted cleanup and was a black hole, where all rallies went to die. He swung Dozier-like, pulling everything and looking frustrated. Worse, he’s hitting .245, 100 points below Danny Valencia, a Twin discard who is alive in Oakland. I hope it has become as clear to the Minnesota front office as it is to me that Sano has to be the Twins third baseman of the future – with a possible shift to first when Mauer is gone. This was to be the year that Plouffe and Dozier reached their primes and carried the team. Both have flopped, and a new direction is required.

Steph Curry

When most people shoot a jump shot, they pause for a split second at the top of their jump before releasing the ball. By the time Steph Curry reaches his apogee, the ball is seemingly already well on its way. His motion slightly resembles that of a shot-putter, although the shot-putter is large and ungainly, while the Golden State Warrior is slight and smooth as proverbial silk. His shot arcs higher in the air than normal, and perhaps for this reason when it falls through the basket the entry looks different, like a high diver slicing into the water on a perfect dive. Or maybe his shots are more in the basket’s center.

Style is merely the start of what distinguishes Curry’s shot. They almost all are launched behind the three-point line (but you knew that), and often are well beyond. Even when Curry shoots from midcourt or beyond at the end of a quarter, the crowd holds its collective breath. And as we have just witnessed in the final two games of the Western Conference Championships against Oklahoma City, an inordinate number of his baskets are clutch. Curry has tied each game, put his team ahead and nailed the coffin with dagger three-pointers that are demoralizing to the opponent well beyond the points added to the score.

Curry is not just a sharpshooter; if that were all he would scarcely rise above his teammate Klay Thompson, who is also a top five three-point shooter. Curry is the best dribbler in the game and a magician on short shots. When he goes to the basket he is met by taller, longer, heftier defenders, yet he regularly gets his shot away – whether it be a floater, scoop, reverse layup or high bank – and it usually goes in. His dribbling skill and quick feet also enable him to free himself for three-point shots, something almost no one else in the NBA does – catch-and-shoot being the standard procedure.

A final point in Curry’s favor is his engaging demeanor. His supreme confidence doesn’t come off as cocky, partly because of his baby-face, partly because everyone around him is so much bigger. He holds his mouthguard between his teeth, draped outside his lips; he punctuates his threes, when appropriate, with a fist clench or even watches them from a crouch; he waves to the crowd to ramp up their enthusiasm. He is the cool customer, the cool assassin.

Games 6 and 7 were the first NBA games I watched this year, and I picked two good ones. The Warriors were seemingly overmatched in the first half each time, as the Thunder controlled the rebounds and had two unstoppable forces in Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook. But once Thompson in the first game and Curry in the second started hitting implausible threes, you could see the Thunder spirits flag and their stars try to do too much. By the end of each game they had not just lost but were defeated. Analytically, a break here or there would seem to have been all they needed to change the outcome; but you got the feeling that somehow the Warriors, and above all Curry, wouldn’t let that happen.

I have no idea how the Warriors will do against LeBron James and the Cavaliers. For the sake of the city of Cleveland, I wouldn’t feel too bad should the Cavs prevail, and I worry that their more muscular play will be a challenge.  But my rooting interest will remain with the Warriors, to reward both their record-setting season and the beauty of their game. When Shaquille O’Neal played I couldn’t wait for him to retire, I so disliked the brute force he brought to the game. The basketball played by Curry and Thompson represents the opposite end of the spectrum and is thrilling to watch.

Twins Preview

Any prediction for 2016 must first acknowledge that I wrote off the Twins’ 2015 season after one horrible week, only to see them vying for a playoff spot with a week to play. One of the pleasures of baseball is the length, and corresponding unpredictably, of the season. Key players will suffer injuries and players you haven’t heard of will become important cogs. Last year, for instance, we awaited impact from Byron Buxton and Miguel Sano. The former fizzled, while the latter amazed, but no one predicted the impact of Eddie Rosario, who almost led the league in triples and outfield assists. Who will surprise us this year, and how? That’s the fun – and the reason my ramblings here are nothing but that.

I do like the 2015 Twins chances for two reasons: they seem to have developed a solid pitching rotation that will give them a chance to win (almost) every game, and the Royals have been so good there is a good chance they will flounder. That’s just the way things work in sports. I put a parenthetical “almost” in the above sentence because Rickey Nolasco begins the year as the Twins’ fifth starter. He will not be by the time we get to June, or latest July, but we don’t know whether his spot will be taken by Tyler Duffey (whom no one had heard of last year) or Jose Berrios (the Buxton of pitching). It will be nice if Glen Perkins regains his All-Star form, but Kevin Jepsen is back and something will work out there.

The Twins’ offense is the most formidable of recent memory, although Sano has to prove himself over a full season. Being overweight and playing out of position are red flags, to be sure. It would be especially nice if Buxton can figure out Major League pitching and we can anoint him a worthy successor to Kirby Puckett and Torii Hunter in centerfield and make us look less jealously at the exploits of Denard Span and Ben Revere as they play elsewhere. I am optimistic about Trevor Plouffe as a cleanup hitter and Brian Dozier at leadoff. They have experience and the requisite confidence. The rest of the lineup is serviceable – and this includes former MVP Joe Mauer at first – which, again, is enough to keep the Twins in a lot of games. If Byung Ho Park hits more than 20 homers or Mauer bats over .285 I’ll be okay. Interestingly, the two best Twins in spring training were Danny Santana, who doesn’t have a position, and Darin Mastroianni, who is in the minors. They should get used – but how? Oswaldo Arcia, out of minor league options, is on the roster on a trial basis, and I don’t see how he fits, unless Park or Sano falters.

Perhaps the best news is how young and far from free-agency these Twins are. Mauer, Nolasco and Kurt Suzuki are the only ones on the downslope of their careers. Maybe this will be a run-up year. Maybe they are a Berrios or Max Kepler away from making their run. All I know for sure is that there will be surprises. That’s what makes it fun.

Birds of Panama

“What was your bird of the day?,” asked someone staying at our lodge, which caught me up short but got me thinking. If I was in Panama not to tally the greatest number of species for a life list but for the birding experience, surely I could remember what sighting brought me the greatest pleasure of the day. Now that I am home, after seven full and three half-days of birding, I will try to use this template as an aide-memoire of the trip.

Day 1: We took a tour of Panama City and didn’t pay attention to birds until our lunch stop on Amador Island, looking over the Pacific. In the distance, amid the much larger pelicans, gulls and terns, were a half-dozen smaller, darker grey birds, gracefully keeping their own company: Black Terns.

Day 2: Our first afternoon tour at Canopy Lodge in Vallee was marred by our guide’s non-stop whistling, which failed to attract any birds but annoyed me so much I slid off on my own. As the group returned to the van and I lagged behind, I heard chipping from the shrubs along the road and eventually tracked it to a small, striking bird with a rufous cap and ear patch surrounding a white eye-line. Not only was the bird cute, it was easy to identify as a Rufous-capped Warbler. We would see it a lot during our stay, and the sight was always welcome.

Day 3: I spent this day around the Lodge. In the morning at a woodland spot where they dumped fruit rinds daily, I first spotted the Orange-billed Sparrow. In the afternoon at the same location, Karen from Denmark and I watched as the large Grey-necked Wood-Rail clumped into view. Both were surprising and distinctive.

Day 4: An all-day trip to the Caribbean Slope proved a slow morning, but when we stopped in a small town for our picnic lunch we looked down on a tree with red pear-like fruits and a mass of birds jumping between the ground, the tree and a fence at its base. I asked our guide, Danilo Jr., what are those smallish, bright-green birds with black smudges on their cheeks. Emerald Tanagers, almost the last of the 15 tanager species that brightened our trip at every turn.

Day 5: In the morning, a grey, rainy day, we hiked uphill through fields and woods, fighting for every bird. At one large expanse there was nothing to see, absolutely nothing, but then in plain view, in full song, appeared a single Wedge-tailed Grass-Finch. Nondescript in color, as the name “Grass-Finch”* implies, it had a long pointed tail, the length of its body, and it gave us front and back views for as long as we wanted to watch. In the afternoon we were led to the scouted location of a Spectacled Owl. While I normally don’t like being spoon-fed, I would otherwise never see owls, and this fellow, with his rich cream breast and distinguished white spectacles, was one of the more majestic birds I have ever seen.

Day 6. Our second all-day tour was to the “Lowlands,” near the Pacific Coast. My favorite bird of the morning was the Rusty-margined Flycatcher, not because of any inherent qualities of the bird but because I labored so hard to identify it on my own. It is the spitting image of the more common Social Flycatcher: the latter shows faint traces of wingbars, while the former has no wingbars and a faint rust color on its secondary wing feathers (the “margin” of its name). After working so hard, I felt proprietary about the bird for the rest of the trip. For our lunch stop, we descended on the beach house of Snr. Raul, the Canopy owner. Amid a large group of Sandwich Terns stood a single Elegant Tern, a “rare migrant” that our guides did not expect to see. It recalled to me the many hours I’ve spent on Sands Beach in Santa Barbara, learning to distinguish Elegants from Royal Terns, and to clinch the identification there was also a single, much larger and thicker-billed Royal Tern standing nearby.

Day 7. Before leaving Canopy Lodge I got one more good look at the Bay Wren. It was the loudest singer for our whole visit, and while it would more often be hidden than visible it eventually became a common sight. Its sharply contrasting black-and-white face and bright rusty body was quite a departure from the wrens of North America. In the afternoon, on our first tour from Canopy Tower, we had a similar experience laboring to locate a calling White-throated Crake in a bed of water hyacinth – only to see it parading openly on a limb two days later.

Day 8. In the morning we walked down Semaphore Hill from the Tower, picking birds here and there from the forest around us and the canopy above. As we waited at the bridge for the van to pick us up for lunch, I found our Holy Grail, the Red-capped Manakin, sensational in its smallness and simplicity. Until that point, the Crimson-crested Woodpecker was the star. Our afternoon on the grounds of Gamboa Resort with guide Michael was somewhat desultory, enlivened by the surprising, brief, consecutive appearances of a Cinnamon Becard and a White-winged Becard; so I will here acknowledge the one good look we took of the White-throated Ibis, never before recorded in Panama but for more than a week camped out on the mudflat below the rattly bridge crossing the Chagres River.

Day 9. Gary and I asked to spend two mornings on Pipeline Road, the most famous birding spot in Panama, and we asked to start at the “far” end – actually only the far end of the road cleared for birding. What we got was a lot of dense second-growth forest, with few birds and those hard to see. Perhaps, however, it was worth it for the extended look we had of the Streak-chested Antpitta, strutting and puffing on the forest floor, carrying itself like a baby Snowy Plover. In the afternoon, in compensation, we hit a gold mine of a tree in the parking lot below Summit Pond – with species after species landing on its leafless branches. There was a surprising delegation from North America of Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, warblers and a rare Painted Bunting (with colors more at home here than in Georgia), but I was most struck by a Purple-crowned Fairy, the largest, purest and most elegant of the eight hummingbirds we saw this day.

Day 10. Our second morning on Pipeline Road was more productive, largely because we worked its start, which was more open (if more crowded). Whereas most of the other birds I’ve cited so far are ones I located by myself – which adds to the pleasure I take – it was next to impossible to find the secretive, dull-colored species that populate the Panamanian forest. Here our guide, who could recognize the quietest sound and know where to look, was essential. Amid the various antshrikes, antpittas, antthrushes, antvireos, antbirds and antwrens (not that I saw examples of each), my favorite encounter was with a family of Song Wrens, patrolling the forest floor, tossing leaves that dwarfed their bodies, with a bright chestnut throat that jumped out when you could see them. Our last afternoon we went back to Gamboa Resort and hung out at the marina, where we added waterbirds to our list: Limpkin, Purple Gallinule, Black-bellied Whistling Duck. Oddly, however, the last bird we spotted and my favorite was a land bird, the Streaked Flycatcher. Although they went by different names – tyrants, tyrannulets, eleanias, flatbills, pewees, etc. – there were 34 flycatchers on my trip list before I saw one that had a streaked breast. And after all the colorful birds, it was a different kind of pleasure to soak in the subtle browns and rusts on its wings and back. It sat on a low limb, undisturbed, while we took turns at the scope, although it wasn’t far away. Upon counting, it proved to be bird number 270, ending our day, as so often happens in birding, on a high note.

*The bird names we encountered were a frequent source of amusement, if not confusion. To find a bird in the field guide index, it wasn’t enough to hear that it was a “finch” you were seeing, for the bird could as easily be alphabetized under “grass-finch” or “seed-finch.” A flycatcher would not be found under “F” if it were a “tody-flycatcher” or a “scrub-flycatcher.” A hummingbird was rarely called “hummingbird”; instead it was a “jacobin,” “coquette,” “woodnymph,” “mango,” “hermit,” “plumeleteer,” “fairy,” “starthroat” or “thorntail” – and those are just the ones we actually saw. Fortunately, since the guidebook’s publication, the Western Slaty-Antshrike that we frequently encountered and that the Smithsonian is studying on Pipeline has undergone a name change to Black-crowned Antshrike, meaning that in future editions it will be found under “A,” with the other antshrikes, instead of “S.”

Super Bowl Thoughts

That there was no dominant – or even very good – team in the NFL this year was born out in spades in the lackluster performance of both teams in this year’s Super Bowl. At various stages of the season, the experts on ESPN hopefully anointed, respectively, the Packers, the Seahawks, the Steelers, the Patriots and the Cardinals as the potential team to beat – and of course none of them made it to the final Sunday. The fact that the Vikings – a seriously mediocre team – made the playoffs and almost beat the eventual champion Broncos confirms the underwhelming quality of play this year. And while Peyton Manning is being celebrated for winning his second Super Bowl at 39, let’s not forget that the story line for much of the year was, Should he still be playing, and it’s hard to find much to praise in his final performance. His two touchdown “drives” covered a total of 4 yards – half of which came from a debatable penalty – and his interception was a terrible throw.

Instead of being forgettable, the game was set up for a thrilling finish when Carolina got the ball with four minutes left, behind by 6 points. Surely, MVP Cam Newton would assert himself and, finally, lead his squad downfield for a last-minute touchdown. That he was sacked and fumbled made the Denver defense, rightfully, the story of the game. It’s just hard to get excited when the most important statistic is quarterback hurries.

I also haven’t seen enough discussion of the role of the officials, probably because the final score of 24-10 made any one play seem inconsequential.  For myself, I would like to see a column after every game devoted to evaluating the performance of the referee and his team. I can think of three calls that might have made a difference, two of which were shown to be clearly wrong by instant replay. Aqib Talib was about three feet offside on Carolina’s field-goal try that hit the goalpost and bounced wide. Given a rekick from 5 yards closer would, the Panthers would not only have added 3 points at a pivotal moment, they would have added some momentum. As it was, you wonder if the inevitable deflation and slightly worse field position didn’t help the Broncos, who quickly moved into field goal range of their own. Second, interference was not called on the Denver defender (probably Talib again) who had wrapped up Ted Ginn Jr. well before Newton’s third-down pass reached him, thwarting a Carolina drive. The third obviously crucial call was the incomplete ruling on Jerome Crotchery’s bobbling reception that the broadcasters and their in-booth ex-referee expected to be overturned when challenged. Instead, the call was allowed to stand – not “confirmed” – meaning that if the officials had called it complete at the outset the Panthers would have moved out of their own backyard and the subsequent sack-fumble-TD recovery would not have happened.

The other obvious consequential blunder that affected the outcome, as opposed to a great play, came when two Carolina defenders thought the Bronco punt returner had called for a fair catch, which he clearly should have, and backed off from a crushing tackle, allowing him to run 61 yards to set up another of Denver’s 3 points. And before I sign off, let me note the numerous off-target passes by Newton. In other words, it was a game of blunders, by players and officials, hardly worthy of a championship contest between the two best the game has to offer.