Word: splendidments
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Across the river, behind the Bright Hockey Center at the corner of the athletic fields lies the splendid 18-court Beren Tennis Center. As one of the new gems of the Harvard Athletic Department, it is here that the new, extremely young Harvard men's tennis team will try to make a name for itself...
...observed after his visit to Sydney Harbor, "It makes a man ask himself whether it would be worthwhile to move... to the eastern coast of Australia in order that he might look at it as long as he can look at anything." Got that right, Tony. And on this splendid natural stage the Olympic Games' newest sport, triathlon, debuted on Saturday morning, a splashy beginning to a day of competition that had Australia ecstatic by nightfall. In the evening, swimmer Ian Thorpe, a mere legend at 17 going into the Games, officially became immortal. His performance in anchoring Australia...
...campaign decided early on to stay away from Mom and Dad. Father and son rarely appeared together. In fact, Bush and campaign manager Karl Rove did such a splendid job of changing the locks that by the time reporters started to ask, "How is the son really different from the father?" they knew just what to say. "Well, he's more ideological, more conservative. He's just much more interested in domestic policy than his father." The big guns from Dad's White House, the Bakers and Scowcrofts, would be heard but not seen, but all their younger, less visible...
...your whale T shirt and shorts and walking shoes with wool socks and a pack with a bottle of water and a bag of trail mix and head down the Bright Angel Trail from the South Rim. This is a splendid experience. You pass through a phalanx of men standing on the rim videotaping the canyon, panning from left to right and then right to left, and you plunge down the trail, which is broad and not too steep and studded with mule manure, and a hundred or so feet down, once you come around the second switchback...
...still and golden. The summer trees are fat with their foliage. On Fourth of July weekend, I am rereading David Reynolds' splendid book "Walt Whitman's America" (1995). It gives me, among other things, a sense of reassuring continuity. We need the past - good, bad, mythic, squalid - as a counterweight. It is sometimes hilarious to see what a mess - embroiled, quotidian, contemporary - the American past actually...