Bad timing

Timing is everything, and bad timing is generally bad. Scuttlebutt editors received an email below from Jet Ski promoters:

Answering the prayers of Jet Ski lovers in the region, the well-loved sport is finally presented as a national ranking competition to the local audience. Expect to see some extreme sporting action as local and international Jet Ski riders arrive for a final showdown on 3 June at the SAF Yacht Club. Readily equipped with their bravado and mean machines, the riders will compete against each other both in the open category and the timed trial category. Watch the fireworks fly as they zip around a determined course in the timed trial category in a battle against time.

The email above came on Monday, the same day as this story broke:

The body of New England Patriots player Marquise Hill was found yesterday, a day after he was reported missing following a jet ski accident on Lake Pontchartrain. Hill's body was discovered by searchers about a quarter of a mile from where the 24-year-old former LSU star and a female companion were involved in the accident, Capt. Brian Clark of the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries Department said. -- SD Union

Today’s Reality – Tomorrow’s Memory

We hope everyone is enjoying the America’s Cup. We are certainly striving to make it understandable, as opposed to joining a television show midseason and not having a clue as to what is going on. The America’s Cup is not everyone’s cup of tea, but if you give it a chance, there are plenty of storylines to grab onto. Plus, how many sporting events are there where the first ten minutes include so much action?

As the field thins, we all have to say goodbye to some very valiant efforts. The good news, at least in the editing confines of Scuttlebutt, is that the volume of email press releases is dying down. Man, we were getting slammed. We still are getting loads of news stories from our search engines, and that won’t die down until well after the event. By early July, media types will come home to dead house plants, yellowed newspapers, and huge kennel bills. And we will get back to reality.

I want to see the score

I am enjoying the coverage of the 32nd America’s Cup. Every sailing scribe seems to be in Valencia, and many are producing insightful and entertaining copy. The online radio is succeeding in communicating the live drama, bouncing back and forth between several commentators who both know the sport and the players involved. And now the Versus television network is showing the Louis Vuitton semi-final races live, and on-air experts Craig Hummer, Andy Green, and Tucker Thompson maintain a dialogue that translates the onboard action not always discerned by the viewer. However, one thing is missing from the television. I want to know the score.

I watch a basketball game on TV, and the score is always in the upper corner. Same with most every other sport I can think of. The score is what I cling to, and my emotions change along with it. The technology is occasionally used to show who is ahead, and by how much, but I want that information in the corner of my television monitor…. all the time. The racers probably want it too, like players in all other sports. But for now, let’s not keep the viewers in the dark. Knowing the score will give life to the long grind out to the port tack layline. Knowing the score will confirm whether the trailing boat downwind is covering the boat ahead. If you tell me the score - all the time - I become emotionally involved in the show. I applaud the gains, and shriek at the losses. You give me the score, and you got me emotionally, and once you have me there, than watching sailing is just like watching any other sport. It becomes entertainment.

A programmer and an engineer

A bit long for the Curmudgeon's Observation:

A programmer and an engineer are sitting next to each other on a long flight from Los Angeles to New York. The programmer leans over to the engineer and asks if he would like to play a fun game. The engineer just wants to take a nap, so he politely declines and rolls over to the window to catch a few winks. The programmer persists and explains that the game is real easy and is a lot of fun. He explains, "I ask you a question, and if you don't know the answer, you pay me $5. Then you ask me a question, and if I don't know the answer, I'll pay you $5." Again, the engineer politely declines and tries to get to sleep.

The programmer, now somewhat agitated, says, "OK, if you don't know the answer you pay me $5, and if I don't know the answer, I'll pay you $100!" This catches the engineer's attention, and he sees no end to this torment unless he plays, so he agrees to the game. The programmer asks the first question. "What's the distance from the earth to the moon?" The engineer doesn't say a word, but reaches into his wallet, pulls out a five dollar bill and hands it to the programmer. Now, it's the engineer's turn. He asks the programmer "What goes up a hill with three legs, and comes down on four?"

The programmer looks up at him with a puzzled look. He takes out his laptop computer and searches all of his references. He taps into the Airphone with his modem and searches the net and the Library of Congress. Frustrated, he sends e-mail to his co-workers--all to no avail. After about an hour, he wakes the Engineer and hands him $100. The engineer politely takes the $100 and turns away to try to get back to sleep. The programmer, more than a little miffed, shakes the engineer and asks, "Well, so what's the answer?" Without a word, the engineer reaches into his wallet, hands the programmer $5, and turns away to get back to sleep.

Laydays are a good thing

What better place to have a layday than during Antigua Sailing Week. Great site, great weather, relaxed racing... Here's a story we found, but if you are going to click thru to the photos, be warned that there are young ladies in various stages of dress:

Wednesday was ‘Layday’ for the 40th Stanford Antigua Sailing Week. This break in yacht racing takes place in the middle of the event and was held on Pigeon Beach, Falmouth Harbour. It was a beautiful, sunny day and hundreds turned out to enjoy the festivities and the sea. There were dinghy races, beer and biscuit races and even a girl’s wet t-shirt competition- which was a crowd pleaser. The sponsors and others had food, booze and t-shirt tents up and everyone had a good time. Click here for a few pictures.

Clarity courtesy of Chris Bedford

Can’t tell you how nice it is when someone who you know is really busy still takes the time to help. That was the case in Issue 2337, when we emailed Chris Bedford, team meteorologist for BMW Oracle Racing, for some info on the Valencia winds.

We had been getting loads of event reports, but must admit we were still not sure which way the wind blew. That’s one of the problems being from California. All we know is that the sea is to the west, the wind always comes from the west, and if you play your cards right, you will always live west of Interstate 5. Start talking about winds from other directions and we get a bit lost.

Thanks to Chris, who promptly responded to three of our emails yesterday between 7-8 pm (Valencia time), we now know that in Valencia, the sea is to the east, and on good days, that is where the wind is coming from. Opposite of California, which is one of the few places in the US - probably with the exception of Hawaii - where there are decent, steady winds for most of the year. Maybe that is why the weather in Valencia is so messed up.

Cinco de Mayo

Whenever we can remember, we try to provide the 'buttheads with some holiday history. Usually we do it to justify our observance of the holiday, but with Cinco de Mayo falling on a Saturday, and in that it is not even a holiday that our office officially observes, we still felt that some clarity was needed. Some often we go through life, not wondering why things are the way they are. We can no longer say that about Cinco de Mayo, as we offered this explanation in Issue 2337:

WEEKEND CELEBRATION
Cinco de Mayo - May 5th - is not an American holiday, nor is it Mexican Independence Day, which declared its independence from mother Spain on midnight, the 15th of September, 1810. It was on the morning of May 5, 1862 when 4,000 Mexican soldiers smashed the French and traitor Mexican army of 8,000 at Puebla, Mexico, 100 miles east of Mexico City. The French had landed in Mexico (along with Spanish and English troops) five months earlier on the pretext of collecting Mexican debts from the newly elected government of democratic President (and Indian) Benito Juarez. The English and Spanish quickly made deals and left, but it took this battle to get the French to move on.

We are not great historians, and must admit that before we Googled the above, we are not sure why we celebrated the holiday, we just did. Maybe it's because we like Margaritas (though not blended - on the rocks, no salt please). Here's more from Frasier Smith: