During today's otherwise forgettable Cal vs. Tennessee college football game, the legendary Joe Starkey remarked that the 25th anniversary of "The Wave" was coming up, and that its origin dated back to the 1981 playoffs between the Oakland Athletics and the New York Yankees, when "Krazy George" Henderson first successfully encouraged fans to stand and sit in unison to create a rolling wave effect.

Though I deplore the wave and refuse to partake in it for a variety of reasons, I thought the wave's origin was worth investigating, especially following the allegations it actually started in the Oakland Coliseum!

While some at the University of Washington would like to take claim for The Wave's creation, the events of Oct. 15, 1981 are not in dispute.

Joe Garagiola, former NBC sports commentator who called the game that day in Oakland, recalled the experience in a Nov. 15, 1984, article in The Dallas Morning News:

"I remember during the game that all of a sudden the fans started getting up then sitting down," Garagiola said... "As I remember, it looked the same or better than what they're doing now. Our producer, Don Ohlmeyer, was trying to get the cameraman to catch the wave, but he was always one sections behind. He (Ohlmeyer) kept pounding on him saying, `Get it. Get that thing.'

"I had never seen anything like it before. It was super."

Krazy George, or so he prefers to be called, had quit his teaching profession to become a full-time cheerleader. With the prospects of a full stadium and a national television audience, he seized the opportunity when the Yankees came to Oakland in 1981. Knowing the first attempt would fail, he told fans to boo each time it failed until they had a successful wave.

'I knew the concept because I had done it at high school rallies and hockey games,' he said. 'But [at the baseball game], nobody had seen it, so I had to get everyone organized. I could only yell as far as four to five sections so I told everyone, 'Once it starts, it will die. And when it dies, I want everyone to boo.'

'The first time it went about eight sections down, and I had about four or five sections booing. The second time we started and stopped, and a huge boo went out. By the third time we tried, it went all the way around once, everyone stood up and applauded and then stopped. I had to explain to keep it going. The fourth time, all four decks did it and it kept going.

'It was a great feeling. It's so powerful.'

The wave has expanded beyond its initial roots here in Oakland worlwide, to international soccer matches, and of course, more baseball. One article on the wave says Cuban dictator Fidel Castro tried it but stopped with his hands half-way up, likely because he was wearing a bullet-proof vest. The wave also had been unofficially banned from Chicago's Wrigley Field as the San Diego Padres fans mercilessly repeated the wave throughout the 1984 playoffs. The Padres eventually won that series.

So, go ahead, hate the wave. I know I do. Despise the Southern California mentality of the wave and beachballs on the field. But now you know where it all started.

Related Links :

* Topix.net: 'Wave' goodbye? Hardly
* Oklahoma State: Still 'Krazy' After All These Cheers
* Krazy George - Professional Cheerleader - The Inventor of the Wave!
* Wikipedia: Audience Wave
* Wikipedia: Krazy George Henderson

Listening to ''Refined Intricacy '99'', by Dave Seaman (Play Count: 2)

As seemingly every other nerdy non-sports-playing, spelling bee winning youngster did, I was subjected to the childhood role of wearing bright metal braces for a significant portion of my elementary school career. Whether for braces tightenings, checkups, or other random maintenance, at one point I was seeing our dentist every two weeks, and just had to remember after school to take one bus rather than the usual route home. In junior high and high school, we maintained less-frequent visits but stayed within a standard deviation from the normal target of twice a year, without too many incidents.

But this changed once I got to college, and now in the workplace. Whether as a result of a series of moves in the Bay Area, lacking a single contact for all things teeth-related, through sheer apathy and annoyance to the dental profession in its entirety, or through too much time consumed by work and other activities, the regular checkups turned to irregular checkups, and then... no checkups. As I didn't think I had any issues to speak of, there wasn't any need to go in every six months just to satiate the ADA's mandatory need for cash. After all, what's to stop them from deciding we should all go three times a year instead, as a ploy to increase revenue?

My somewhat-intentional dentistry boycott all backfired on me starting last Friday, when while snacking on Skittles at the office, a wayward filling popped itself out of a back left tooth, leaving a hole in its place. That evening, my wife set me up with her dentist for an appointment this last Tuesday to get it taken care of, plus X-rays and cleaning while we were there. Made sense.

Tuesday: I headed to the dentist's, got introduced, assessed the situation, and we took X-rays. My hopes of a quick 1-hour procedure were shattered, when he felt the filling's ejection indicated the tooth it was attached to was in a state of rebellion, not due to any lack of hygiene on my part, but because the filling, placed by my old dentist a decade or so ago, had outlived its usefulness and attacked the tooth. Great. So much for trusting the whole field. In fact, the new dentist recommended I replace all my existing metal fillings. So, we did a quick cleaning, and scheduled to now investigate putting in a crown on that tooth the very next day. I went home more annoyed than ever, and still had a hole where my tooth should have been intact.

Wednesday: Back to the dentist, to start the crown. Or so I thought. He did "deep cleaning" on the left side of my mouth, and drilled away at the offending tooth, eliminating decay, and shot me up with all sorts of painkiller. While that was fun, at the end of it all, he announced that he had changed plans altogether, had not started the crown at all, and instead had done fillings on that tooth, and those neighboring it, as a preventative measure. He said he didn't want to start the crown if my tooth were to rebel further and necessitate a root canal. Uh-oh. So, he sent me off, said to watch for later pain, and to come back the very next day to see if they could start the crown. At least the hole in my tooth was gone.

Thursday: Third consecutive day at the dentist's, so I started off plenty sullen. More painkiller. More shots in the same places as before, already sore, but this time, they cut all around my tooth and fitted it for a temporary crown, while a third-party lab would make me "the perfect fit", which I wouldn't get for two more weeks. The hygienist put in a temporary which would fit in very well in Pirates of the Carribean, as it's gold and, at an angle, is only half as high on the exterior side as the interior. Arrgghh Matey!

But they weren't done with the marathon. It was suggested I come back the very next day to "deep clean" the right side. You wouldn't want to have one side clean and other not, or so I was told. Apparently the Earth was about to spin off of its axis and I would be responsible. Sigh.

Friday: 4 days, 4 visits. I took my place in what I consider "my chair" now, and readied for the deep cleaning. But they then said I was there for deep cleaning and a filling. What? They never mentioned that before. I guess another "change in plans". Cute. I was told it was again, preventative, and that  the whole field of dentistry had moved to a doctrine of preemption. Chalk another victory up for the Bush doctrine, I guess. Whatever. What was I going to do? Leave? Argue? So I got more shots. More pain killer, but on the right side this time, not the left. More drilling. More thumb-twiddling. But it really didn't take that long, leaving my words slurred and seeing me exit the office with a gold tooth on the left side, fillings on both sides, and somehow trying to favor both sides of my mouth when I eat, so you can guess there are a few things off of the dinner menu for a few days.

Two weeks from now, we go back and get the crown finished, or so I've been told so far. Given this week's nonsense, I wouldn't be too surprised if I walk in and had been asked to be fitted for false teeth, the implantation of a diamond stud, or to once again, get braces, as a preemptive measure. And everybody who knows I took a self-imposed dentist vacation says this is all my fault. If you ask me, I shouldn't have had all these metal fillings put in there if they weren't supposed to stay. That's silly, and now I'm at the stage of getting a crown because the last dentist didn't know his work was going to mess me up.  Arrgghh Matey!

Listening to ''Escape Velocity 015'', by DJ Irish (Play Count: 2)

In baseball, it's often said that leading the division or the league in April, May or June is meaningless. Historically speaking, seeing your team in first place doesn't amount to a hill of beans until Labor Day, and even then, until your team has mathematically clinched the division and eliminated all challengers, there will always be doubts if you can pull it off. Baseball players, managers, coaches and fans are among the most superstitious and snake-bitten people out there, period.

Today being September 2nd, the Oakland A's now enjoy a comfortable lead in the American League West division, spotting an 8 and a half game margin over the Los Angeles Angels. The A's just wrapped up the best August in the majors, with a 21-6 record, and have been nearly unstoppable since the All-Star break. A significant amount of that credit has to go to the team's designated hitter, Frank Thomas, who led the team to victory again last night in dramatic fashion. Thomas, who was picked up for a song (or a hill of beans) in the off-season, blasted his 29th home run, a two-run shot, which gave the A's the eventual margin of victory, as they charged back from being down 4-3, to win 5-4, on a night when every other AL West foe had already been defeated.

As usual, my wife and I were in our assigned seats for the game, and though down early, we didn't fret. We've seen the A's charge back from early deficits all season, and with a power like Frank Thomas who can put a charge into one at any at bat, we knew we had a fighting chance. After an error allowed Milton Bradley to reach ahead of Thomas, I turned to my wife, and said, "Are you ready to erupt when Thomas hits a bomb here?" She said, "Of course," and not but a few pitches later, the Big Hurt sent a moon shot sailing into the left-field bleachers as the aforementioned Bradley and he trotted home, turning a potential loss into a probable victory.

After a slow start to the season, Frank Thomas has approached his decade-ago MVP days, and has put the team on his 6-foot 7-inch frame as the A's push hard toward making the off-season again after a two-year absence. While the cautious side of me wants to say it's too early to start preparing for post-season matchups, the team has been in the most comfortable position they've seen in a long time, and we have Thomas to thank for much of it, as he has shown a resurgence in getting on base, in picking up speed, and maintaining home run power. Every at bat of his is a real show, as he marches up the rungs of baseball history, passing hall of fame greats with every big swing. It is a pleasure to call ourselves A's fans and we wish to continue seeing Frank's frame in the batter box this year and beyond.

Listening to ''Melodica (Original Mix)'', by Paul Oakenfold (Play Count: 5)

So what do you give to an overgrown ball of fluff who has everything? How about a surprise trip to Sunnyvale and all sorts of new smells?

Dog-sitting for a friend this weekend, Iorek, a young samoyed weighing in around 60 to 70 pounds of lean, mean white fur, took a trip back to Sunnyvale with me after the A's game and soon found himself king of the manor - or at least our living room.

You can also see him as he tries out our love seat, and finds he is simply too big.