Going Fishing

The season is changing. For the rest of the northern hemisphere, it may be spring; but in the deserts of the great American Southwest, our days are already consistently 90+ degrees. I’ve had the doors off of the Jeep, and my wife has been tending daily to her garden. That feels a lot like summer to me.

When it really is summer, it will be the 50th anniversary of the first summer blockbuster. The term references the idea that a film appeals to all the different demographic groups, resulting in lines stretching around the block. Although it is now applied to just about any big budget, highly anticipated movie, it traces its roots to one film in particular.

 

To say that 1975’s “Jaws” was successful would be like proclaiming that Hell can be rather unpleasant. It set all kinds of records; $7 million on opening weekend, and over $21 million by the end of the following week. It was the highest grossing picture of all time until some silly sci-fi flick came along a couple years later. Part of that success has been attributed to the way “Jaws” was marketed. It was heavily advertised on TV and released in a lot of theaters at the same time. Like the grand opening of a store, but it was a movie. And it worked.

That movie caught a lot of attention. It caught the attention of a lot of people including one particular person. But that person wasn’t old enough to drive himself to the theater. He was 8 years old. And he was FASCINATED by sharks. Why on God’s green Earth couldn’t he see this movie?!??

The answer is simple. The movie was rated PG, and his parents took the suggestion, and guided him toward more appropriate audiovisual entertainment. But man did I (I mean, “HE”) want to see that movie!

Okay, the proverbial cat is out of the bag. In case you hadn’t figured it out, this was obviously about ME. In hindsight, it was probably a reasonable decision for my parents to make. They were worried that I would be scarred for life – traumatized by the idea of a shark eating swimmers. And, to make matters worse, I was a competitive swimmer.

But where there’s a will, there is a way. I was too honest to sneak in, or to lie and go with somebody else. We didn’t have a VCR at the time. I just couldn’t see the movie. So, I got a better idea.

I went to the library and checked out THE BOOK. I read it cover to cover. And it was AMAZING! This actually would turn out to be important for 2 reasons. First (and most obviously,) I got to read the story. And, no, I wasn’t traumatized for the rest of life. It reinforced my fascination with sharks. I still think they’re cool.

But secondly (and way more importantly,) I came to the realization that full length novels were not out of my league. I was no longer restricted to the likes of the Scholastic Book Club catalogs from school. The Encyclopedia Brown stories, and “Charlotte’s Web” were no longer the ceiling. The gloves were off. I could read ACTUAL BOOKS.

Hey! What’s wrong with Encyclopedia Brown?

I remember the next year, reading “The Deep” (also by Peter Benchley.) And because I was a year older, I got to see the movie this time. But that was the first time I had the idea that the book was better than the movie. I would end up going back and reading many books of movies I had liked: “The Guns of Navarone,” “The Day of the Jackal,” “The Eagle Has Landed,” and “A Bridge Too Far” all became available to me.

I’ve since come to appreciate that the book and the movie are often very different; but one is not necessarily better that the other. They are created for different audiences (which sometimes overlap.) But the book can go into much more detail. And whichever you experience first will affect your view of the other, for better or worse.

To bring things full circle, I’m probably going to see the movie “Jaws” again this summer, for old time’s sake.

But the book was better.

-Toph

“Thanks, King.”

Sports fans love to disagree and debate over teams or individual athletes’ stats, records, and accomplishments. Watch a few minutes of any sports talk show, or listen to a post-game podcast, and you’ll get just a hint of what I’m talking about. Better yet, just hang out in a sports bar during a game. I touched on this topic a couple weeks ago in an article about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. For years, I’ve listened to (and participated in) various versions of this age-old activity. As a former competitive swimmer, I was pretty awed by Mark Spitz in the early 70s. He was frequently referred to as the best Olympic swimmer of all time; several years later, Michael Phelps figuratively swam up and said, ‘Hold my beer…’.

While I enjoy the old, “Top 20 (insert position, team, or game) of all time” debates, there is one version of this I enjoy most:

The Greatest Athlete of All Time

James Francis Thorpe was born in the late 1880s, a member of the Sac and Fox Indian Nation in what would later become the state of Oklahoma. He was one of 11 kids. As often happened in those days, several didn’t survive to adulthood. His twin brother Charlie died at age 9. At 16, Jim went

Mandatory Credit: Photo by Everett/Shutterstock (10283755a)
Jim Thorpe joined the Canton Bulldogs football team in 1915. While with the team, they won three American Professional Football Association championships.
Historical Collection

to the Carlyle Indian School in Pennsylvania. There, he began working with his track (and later, football) coach, Glenn “Pop” Warner.

His athletic resume is so utterly impressive, I could not begin to do it justice. David Maraniss wrote “Path Lit by Lightning: The Life of Jim Thorpe.” It’s an excellent biography. It’s close to 700 pages long; it would be an insult to pretend that this little anecdote is a scholarly study of Thorpe’s accomplishments. However, I’m not above condensing it down to a paragraph or two.

Path Lit by Lightning – The Life of Jim Thorpe

Thorpe was a 3-time All American, and a 5-sport college athlete. He took Gold in the 1912 Olympic Games in both the Pentathlon and Decathlon. From 1915 to 1928, he played for 7 professional football teams. He also served as the newly formed NFL’s first president in 1920. From 1913 to 1919, he played professional baseball. And, in 1927 and 1928, he played professional basketball. (Yes, you read that timeline correctly – those professional careers overlap.) Oh, and by the way, he also COACHED.

There are a lot of stories and claims about him. While not entirely verifiable, they make for good conversation. When Gustaf V (King of Sweden) crowned him with a laurel wreath in the 1912 Olympic games, he said, “Sir, you are the greatest athlete in all the world.” Jim purportedly replied, “Thanks, King.”

“Thanks, King.”

His life wasn’t especially easy, though. His Olympic status was challenged because he (along with other students at his school) had played “semi-professional baseball” for a couple summers. By today’s definitions, it would be considered a scholarship or a stipend, and he was encouraged to do so by his coaches. But it served as an opportunity for jealous rivals of the time to get one over on him. He also struggled with alcoholism later in life. And he was generous to a fault. Even when down on his own luck, he was known to give freely to others. He traveled a lot in his later years, going from town to town, making celebrity appearances, working as an extra in movies, and doing odd jobs.

It is during that period that his story becomes more personal to me. In 1945, he and his wife stayed for a couple of weeks at a property that my grandfather owned. Jim was a big, likable guy, and he made quite an impression on my dad (who was about 5 at the time.) My three brothers and I grew up hearing all about Jim Thorpe.

My dad’s first brush with greatness.

 

March 28th was the anniversary of Jim Thorpe’s passing in 1953. Jim was 65 years old.

So, who’s my pick of the most prolific athlete of all time? In case you haven’t guessed, I’m with old King Gustaf on this one.

-Toph