While rising up in a small city on Louisiana’s Cajun prairie within the Nineteen Fifties and ’60s, I longed to see the world. I learn the National Geographic magazines that my brother acquired with a present subscription each Christmas. We had Beatles albums, after all, however we additionally performed a disc from National Geographic that featured the best hits of the humpback whale.
In my fourth-grade geography class, I turned enamored with exotic-sounding locations resembling Reykjavik, Lapland and the Zuider Zee. And I wished to know what the hell tapioca pudding was.
I nonetheless haven’t visited any of these locations, however I have tasted tapioca pudding. And, upon arriving in New Zealand this month to cowl a part of the Women’s World Cup, I’ve now reported from 56 international locations in my profession as a sports activities reporter, the final 30 years of which have been at The New York Times.
My mother and father wished me to be a physician. I wished to journey. Sportswriting appeared like the proper passport.
I’ve been lucky sufficient to cowl 13 Olympic Games, eight males’s World Cups and 6 Women’s World Cups. Pursuit of soccer took me on a 15-hour boat journey up the Amazon and a 27-hour practice trip from Moscow to the Urals. Along the way in which, I crossed the Berlin Wall, stood on the Great Wall of China, joined elite runners atop a 13,000-foot volcano in Mexico and descended a mile underground right into a South African mine.
Who wouldn’t love being paid to cowl worldwide sporting occasions in London, Paris and Rome? But, maybe given the duck-and-cover period of my youth, I’ve usually been drawn extra eagerly to locations of Cold War classic or worldwide catastrophe, locations remoted and as soon as or nonetheless forbidden. And one place, East Germany, that not exists.
I’ve visited Hiroshima and written a few journey to Chernobyl throughout the 2012 European soccer championships that befell two hours south, in Kyiv. In 2010, I used to be given a tour of Nelson Mandela’s former jail cell on Robben Island off Cape Town. My information was a onetime inmate who directed the notorious jail’s soccer league and wrote a complete math textbook on a roll of bathroom paper.
In 2015, I ran a marathon in North Korea. My tour group was accompanied by a minder from the sports activities ministry. He knew of Dennis Rodman, a favourite of the authoritarian chief and basketball fan Kim Jong Un, however had by no means heard of LeBron James.
In 2018, whereas the opening match of the lads’s World Cup befell in Moscow, I watched from a navy bunker on the Ukrainian border. The sport performed on one in all three televisions within the bunker, whereas low-level combating between the Ukrainian navy and Russian separatists performed on the opposite two.
I’ve made a dozen reporting journeys to Africa, the place you could be assured of seeing one thing you could have by no means seen earlier than. In Angola, a person requested if I’d carry $10,000 via customs for him (I declined). In Ethiopia, I noticed rows of desk soccer video games evenly unfold out alongside an empty stretch of freeway, nobody inside miles to play these ghostly amusements.
After rising up with air-conditioning throughout Louisiana winters, I’ve been drawn to tales in among the world’s coldest climates — the surf spot above the Arctic Circle in Norway, the soccer match amongst Indigenous youth within the Canadian territory of Nunavut. Last yr, I reported from Longyearbyen, Norway, the world’s northernmost city, the place local weather change is going on sooner than some other place on the planet.
Winter, too, within the Southern Hemisphere is what attracted me, partly, to New Zealand as a reprieve from the broiling summer time at house in Philadelphia, the place I stay. Queenstown, on the South Island, is a winter sports activities hub. In between soccer reporting, I took a few bracing runs alongside Lake Wakatipu because the temperature hovered round freezing. And I booked a helicopter trip to Tyndall Glacier within the Southern Alps, the place it was 7 levels Fahrenheit in superb sunshine however comfortably windless above 6,000 toes.
During my journey to the glacier, it turned obvious to me that I used to be surrounded by change:
Climate change in Queenstown, the place layers of glacier snow are striped, like gritty icing inside a birthday cake, with ash that carried throughout the Tasman Sea from the 2019-20 Australian bush fires.
Change in girls’s soccer, the place all the earlier World Cup champions had been eradicated by the quarterfinals and a first-time winner, both England or Spain, will likely be topped on Sunday.
And profession change, now that The Times is disbanding its Sports desk and transferring members of our staff to different departments.
I’m unsure if I’ll ever return to this a part of the world. But Reykjavik stays excessive on my fourth-grade bucket record.
Source: www.nytimes.com