… Okay, that’s not exactly true. The watch corporation is donating a buck for each person the former Olympic softball gold medalist passes in November’s ING New York City Marathon.

Finch, perhaps the most recognizable softballer in the world (they’re called “softballers,” right?) will start the race dead last. Timex, in turn, will donate $1 to New York Road Runners youth programs for every person she passes over the course of the 26-mile run.

Former New York Giants receiver Amani Toomer also started dead last a couple years ago in the same marathon, which now forces me to evaluate if a solid professional football player with 13 years under his belt is more recognizable than the world’s most famous softball player. Although I’m sure I’d recognize Finch walking around in, say, a Whole Foods before I would recognize Toomer, I think more people would recognize Toomer first.

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A tree limb near the final hole of the course fell, exposing a swarm (or a few hundred swarms depending on how you define swarm) of yellow jackets. And considering bees never do a quick flyby and then move on to greener pastures, you can bet that 60,000 bees mingling around was enough to compel the course officials to halt the UTA / Waterchase Invitational in progress Tuesday afternoon.

The report of the infestation mentions that a beekeeper was called in to handle the situation.

“Um, hello. I’m with the Waterchase Golf Course. I hear you’re a bee wrangler, which is good ‘cause I’ve got a few bees need wranglin’. … Do you have a bee wrangling partner? …Yeah? Good. Bring everyone on your team. … No, all of ‘em. Seriously. … If you own firearms, you might want to throw those in the Buzzmobile too.” 

Wichita State won the tournament based on the Round 2 results from the day before.

There have since been six unconfirmed deaths from the beekeeping crew hired to control the 18^th Hole.*

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* By “unconfirmed” I mostly mean “made up by me just now.” And by “mostly” I mean “totally.”

Belarussian Nastassia Mironchyk-Ivanova lost the World Championships in South Korea after her long-ish pony tail made a sand landing before her feet did, thereby forcing judges to mark the spot her hair hit instead of the spot her feet hit – a difference of about half a foot.

Now you see why this title is so great, right? “By a hair?” It IS fantastic. Thank you for saying so.

Anyway, she captured fourth place with her hair-jump, which is still kind of amazing when you think about it. She technically landed on her head and still almost placed. After she’s done being upset, I’d urge Mironchyk-Ivanova to leverage that into a humble-brag.

“Yeah, I shoulda put my hair in a bun, but still, my hair alone beat out all but three jumpsters around the globe.” I’m assuming here that people engaged in this sport refer to themselves as “jumpsters.” If they don’t, they should.

If nothing else, the Belarussian – and anyone else – should just get enormous hair extensions the day before the event. After tying it into a huge pony tail, take off from the plank and whip the extensions around in front of you. With a little practice, we’ll start seeing all sorts of jumpsters with 9 foot, 10 foot, 11 foot jumps.

Then they can call up the nice folks at Guinness and invent up a new sports record.

More on that in a second, but first I’d like to discuss the fine people over at the Guinness Book of World Records, an institution I’m more and more weary about every time one of these “records” comes up. Whether it be the largest number of Snuggie wearers under one roof, or the farthest distance water skied blindfolded in an hour to the current record of a 10 hour hockey game. It really feels as if they’re reaching at this point. First of all, the game of hockey is a times event. Baseball can be played for a week-and-a-half (and often feels as if it is), golf too. But not hockey. Hockey has extra periods and shoot-outs, but it ends. Records are made to be broken, but not rules and dividing 40 women into two teams and allowing whomever was not on the current four-hour shift to nap isn’t hockey. It’s the same problem I have with dance contests that deem the winner the last person to not stop moving. But simply standing up and shifting weight from one foot to the next isn’t dancing 9it’s restless standing) and skating on ice with a stick in your hand occasionally slapping at a puck just trying not to die isn’t hockey.

… Okay. That is kinda what hockey is, but still, you get my point.

I’m not picking on the fundraising aspect of this endeavor (that’s coming about 70 words from now), I’m just critiquing the mingling of sports records, with exhibition showcases. Is it a world-record boxing match if two guys stand in a ring for three weeks occasionally jabbing at one another every 10 minutes or so? Unless you’re in the heavyweight division, no, that’s not considered boxing. There were 2,500 goals scored in 243 hours, that’s a little over 10 goals every hour. That’s almost quadruple the number of goals the average NHL hockey game sees. Imagine the 270 highest scoring professional hockey games of all time and you’re in the ballpark of what the Canucks witnessed earlier this week.

But it wasn’t about the record, I’m sure. It was about raising awareness and funds for a worthy cause. Feel free to read the full story here. It gives interesting backstory of how the event came about in the first place.

I will say though, that for 243 hours of grueling, bruising, swollen hockey fun, each of the 40 hockey players brought in an average of $3,125 for their effort. Considering each player ate, relaxed or slept for about eight out of every 24 of those hours that’s 162 hours of actual playing done by each woman. That’s about $19.29 per hour, which sounds easy-cheesy during the first four hours and unbearably low in the last … I dunno, 239, I guess.

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You’ve seen “The Karate Kid” at least half a dozen times in your life. If you haven’t, you’re living life wrong. Drop whatever that frozen drink in your hand is and start anew from this point on. Start by buying the original “Karate Kid” and watching it until you reach your sixth viewing. We’ll wait …

…

Done? Nice. What was your favorite part? Wait! Before you answer, don’t just say, “No Mercy!”/ sweep the leg/ final crane kick. Yes, it’s always nice to see Elizabeth Shue running toward the camera, but the end just isn’t the best part. The best part is when Mr. Miyagi hops the fence like Spiderman to whup a pack full of skeleton bullies.

Come on, don’t fight it. Seeing a 300-year-old man* ruin a bunch of toe-headed teens is cathartic, right? Even the 6-year-old me knew it to be true.

Well, there’s a real life Miyagi. She’s a little bit younger (98), a little bit more into the art of throwing (judo) and a little more, um, female. Keiko Fukuda became the first 98-year-old to earn an 10th-degree black belt in … well, anything. If they gave out black belts for staying awake through an entire episode of “60 Minutes,” I’m positive no 98-year-old has ever accomplished that. Only four people have earned that distinction and none of them were old ladies.

In the martial arts world, the unprecedented run on minority factions is equivalent to President Obama having also been Hillary Clinton AND John McCain.

Although earning the degree distinction at such an advanced age is primarily a symbolic gesture, as Keiko is confined to a wheelchair most of the time nowadays, her story is actually a touching one or perseverance against Japanese sexism and makes the argument that she’s only just now being rewarded with something she earned decades ago.

The San Francisco Chronicle chronicled the rest of the story (like they do). Click it if you’re so inclined.

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* approximately

The official word is that the Ravens celebrated the end of a long, hot practice by bringing in an ice cream truck. You can’t trust that though. When is the last time you saw a snack truck and thought, “I bet Ray Lewis is doing some terrible damage in that thing”?

Never right?

Precisely. That’s why it’s such a good cover.

Well played, you conspiratorial Ravens, you.

What I am sure of is that any kid who looks to be a) sitting by himself at a public sporting event, b) a fan of highly processed foods, c) familiar with ‘The Goonies,’ and d) adept at intertwining these loves is okay by me.

Keep that freak flag flying, homey.

Full, glorious jiggle here.

I was previously agnostic on Ohio State, and the state of Ohio. Now? The scales have tipped a little in its disfavor.