Die Macht » orting clan and feel a final sense of ki

WATKINS GLEN, N.Y. -- Denny Hamlin wasnt about to get shoved aside again.Ignoring what he described as the worst pain he has ever felt in a race, Hamlin prevailed in a four-lap dash to the checkered flag Sunday to win the wreck-filled Sprint Cup race at newly paved Watkins Glen International.Its the first road course win of Hamlins Cup career and atoned for his stunning loss on the road course at Sonoma in June, when he was beaten by Tony Stewart with a bang on the last turn.Its very hard to win these races, Hamlin said. I only made one mistake at Sonoma, and I didnt win.Hamlin was virtually flawless at The Glen and was able to conserve enough fuel at the end, thanks to eight cautions for 20 laps. The race also had two red-flag stoppages for 30 minutes.We executed perfectly. Didnt make any mistakes on pit road, Hamlin said. Hoping for those caution laps that we needed. That allowed us to make it on fuel.That Hamlin was behind the wheel of the No. 11 Joe Gibbs Racing Toyota was in doubt before the race. He was in pain when he awoke.Knew I was in pretty big trouble, said Hamlin, who has undergone two knee surgeries in his career. I was thinking under the [last] red flag Lets get this over with so I can get out of this car.The race was shaping up as another duel between Brad Keselowski and Kyle Busch in the closing laps. But a rash of late cautions shuffled Busch back.Keselowski restarted with the lead with 25 laps to go in the 90-lap race, and Busch stalked him in second as the leaders began turning the fastest laps of the race around the 2.45-mile layout with the end in sight.The sixth caution flew on Lap 78 for a blown engine and erased a five-second lead the two leaders had built over Hamlin, Martin Truex Jr. and Joey Logano, who was seeking his second straight sweep of the Cup and Xfinity races at The Glen.Keselowski lost the lead on the restart when both he and Busch overdrove the first turn, a 90-degree downhill right-hander, and Hamlin sneaked past to take the lead before another caution flew.When I saw them move forward and lunge into the corner, I knew there was no way for them to get out with any sensible speed, Hamlin said. It was my opportunity.Hamlin held a slim lead over Truex and Keselowski as the three ran nose-to-tail entering the final turns of the race. Keselowski spun Truex in the last turn and Hamlin coasted to the victory.Logano finished second, and Keselowski, AJ Allmendinger, Stewart and Busch completed the top six.We got ourselves in position to win the race, but I didnt have the speed to make it happen, Logano said.Jeff Gordon drove the No. 88 Chevy for Hendrick Motorsports in relief of Dale Earnhardt Jr. for the third straight race and finished 14th in his 800th career start after an early accident. Earnhardt is recovering from a concussion and is expected to miss at least two more races.Buescher survives: Despite a pit road penalty and a late crash, Chris Buescher remained on the cusp of making the Chase for the Sprint Cup title after finishing 30th, one lap down. The surprise winner last week in the rain at Pocono came to Watkins Glen six points outside the top 30 in points, a requirement for making the postseason Chase, and now trails David Ragan by three points. Ragan also was involved in a crash and finished 33rd.You know, for us, kind of hoped wed get a lot more than what we did, Buescher said. Its a bummer the way it worked out.Infractions, infractions: NASCAR increased the number of timing lines on pit road at Watkins Glen from six to 14 this year, and it ended up costing a lot of drivers a lot of time. Of the 31 infractions handed out, seven were for speeding. A tire out of the pit box was costly for pole sitter Carl Edwards. He led the first 25 laps, suffered the penalty on his first pit stop, and finished 15th after getting spun in an altercation with Ragan and Clint Bowyer.The crash: There were two more crashes coming out of the sweeping carousel turn coming to the backstretch. The big one came when Ricky Stenhouse Jr. lost control of his No. 17 Ford coming out of the sweeping right-hander and skidded across the track. Jimmie Johnson slammed hard into Stenhouse, and Greg Biffle and Austin Dillon also were involved. Johnson finished last.That crowd: While most NASCAR venues dont attract the crowds they used to, Watkins Glen, with its fantastic finishes, remains an exception. The track announced its second straight grandstand sellout. Although attendance figures arent released, the crowd estimate was just under 100,000.Im sure the fans loved it, Logano said. It was pretty cool when I pulled over for the red flag in front of the grandstands and I could hear just fans screaming and yelling and loving it. I thought, Man, this is really cool to be in the drivers seat right now. Up next: Night race at Bristol on Aug. 20. Logano is the defending winner. Justin Reid Jersey . 1 position. The Mustangs (6-0), who beat Queens 50-31 last weekend, earned 17 first-place votes and 287 points in voting by the Football Reporters of Canada. Western was last ranked first in the country in October 2011. Houston Texans Jerseys . Pettersen, winner of last years Evian Championships, had nine birdies and three bogeys, holding off a series of challengers led by Marion Ricordeau of France. The second-ranked Norwegian made her season debut after missing the LPGA Tours opening event last month in the Bahamas because of a shoulder injury. http://www.texansrookiestore.com/Texans-Cullen-Gillaspia-Jersey/ . LOUIS -- Theres no telling how these wacky World Series games will end. DeAndre Hopkins Youth Jersey . -- Playing time has been limited for Maxim Tissot this season, so the Montreal Impact defender made the most of his first scoring opportunity on Saturday. DOnta Foreman Youth Jersey . General manager Jarmo Kekalainen told Aaron Portzline of The Columbus Dispatch on Friday that he wants to see Gaboriks contributions go beyond the scoresheet before considering a long-term deal for the soon-to-be unrestricted free agent. It happened just for a single second. In Rio in April, just for this fragment of time, he was his old self. His old, high-strung, nothings-good-enough, pushing-himself, perfection-demanding, obsession-embracing, brilliant self.Hed shot 626.2 in the air rifle in a World Cup test event, which is 10.4 per shot, which in the previous scoring system would roughly translate to 598/600, which is by any measure a pretty, decent score.Well, for most people. But since when was Abhinav Bindra, in his old self, most people?And so when Gaby Buhlmann, one of his coaches, walks by, and hes standing there with that very Bindra look which is all inconsolable fury, and she asks him about the scoresheet that hes holding, he says this:Its toilet paper.Crap score.Unworthy.Pitiful.If you wanted an introduction to driven and be acquainted with desire, then you had to meet Bindras old self. Under his skin, desperation crawled. Hed examine every pellet of hundreds under a magnifying glass in case one had a flaw. Because he couldnt afford a flaw. Because he was in pursuit of only the flawless. Hed unlock his range at 3am, in his underwear, because a brilliant idea had struck him, and dont raise that eyebrow. How else does perfection come?His old self had coaches who tuned his focus and tightened his technique and grew him up, but no one needed to kindle his flame. When he told me, years ago, about the time he shot 600/600 six times in practice and wasnt happy, even I, whod read enough on eccentricity and sport, thought, Dear God, who is this?But that old self, its mostly gone, its broken apart. Only slivers of it remain, only remnants left behind of a younger man, only pieces which show up now and then for a second.Because in the next second he corrects himself.Its not toilet paper.His score is not crap, he reminds himself. Its impressive. Its a score to be respected. To be grateful for. His old, hard self took him to Olympic gold in 2008 but no athlete, no human, can stay the same. His old self was too hard to maintain and so he keeps reinventing himself, challenging himself, invigorating himself, discovering himself. He doesnt just experiment with shooting, hes turned himself into a shooting experiment.He has kept trying to reshape himself, to be less anxious, less negative, less hard on himself. Till here he is, at the cusp of his fifth Games, a Games which has tested him, ruined him, fuelled him, made him and now to this Games he says goodbye. Hes like a bullet that has travelled too far. Hes not going back.I have less shots left.And no more Olympics.***Bindra and I have history. Actually a book, his book, titled A Shot at History. The writing of it made us, him 33 now, me 53, friends. We text now and then. We talk politics. I tell him he needs to be less boring if he wants to get married. He laughs. Hes switchblade sharp and too wise for his age. He was the right sportsperson to do a book with -- and any journalist who reads this will grin like hell -- because he was always on time. The business of athletes, who are creatures of exquisite timing on the field, is to be late for everything off the field --- as if to be on time reflects an unnecessary enthusiasm for an interview. Its not that no one told Bindra this, its merely that hes his own unflinching man.Between 2009 and 2011, we meet 4-5 times in Delhi, once in Chandigarh, twice in Singapore. Sometimes for eight hours a day. If I write him an email -- 322 in 2010 alone -- hell reply within 24 hours, whatever time zone hes in. If I call and he doesnt pick him, hell call back after practice. When Im in Delhi, I ask, What time do you want to start tomorrow?You say.9am?Fine.At 9am, hes there. No bleary-eyed, phone-to-ear, Ill-be-with-you-shortly look. Instead hes scrubbed, dressed, shoes polished, pants with creases as sharp as the parting in his hair. Coffee? Breakfast? He wears muted colours and also an almost unfashionable, self-deprecating, respectful politeness.Hes a shooter, a stationary and hushed hero and so you dont expect an aura, but hes an Olympic champion, a world champion, hes great, hes somebody, yet he carries it all calmly -- unpretentiously but gravely. Hes not the guy for the stupid question. Dont ask him, Oh, how many shots are there in shooting? Just dont. He wont be rude, he simply wont be interested in you because you havent respected him by doing your homework. He takes shooting seriously, so take him seriously.His phone is off. No sister, friend, sponsor interrupts. Hell talk as long as I want to talk. An air-conditioner hums and my pen scratches. This is incredibly hard for him for hes not a man of words. In another life he could have been a caver, or a deep sea diver, for he lives in silence, a loner, whose grand journeys are into the unknown depths of his own self.Hes incredibly shy, hes private, yet hes parting curtains because hed agreed to that beforehand. Agreed that we were not going to make money with this book. We get it, its a shooting book. And we dont help either with sales because hes too awkward to tweet about it and I am not on Twitter. But we dont care about that. Also he has no private life, no Bollywood girlfriend, no model on his arm, not found frequently on Page 3. He doesnt even have a fast car and a frothing father, hes just terrifyingly normal, hes the un-Agassi. But we dont care about that either. We only care about writing a raw, honest, gritty investigation into his single-minded, desperate, eccentric, devoted pursuit of his greatest sporting self. Not a how-to-win book but a how-he-won book.So he opens himself up, he peels his skin away. He talks about pain, crying, whining, defeat, perseverance, learning, courage, acting. He talks about officials who do nothing, about 10-day silent retreats to improve concentration, about climbing a pizza pole. He talks about how Olympic defeat sent him to therapy and how Olympic victory brought on a depression. He never cuts corners in shooting, he wont for tthis.ddddddddddddHe doesnt know how.For a writer, this is a pleasure. Most of our lives were herded in and out of interviews, offered canned answers, expected to dissect greatness in nine minutes. There are always questions left to ask, but here, with him, there are none. Here I have an Olympic champion to whom I can ask anything for however long. Its a two-year tutorial in sporting desire.But I also, inadvertently, do him a minor favour because he concedes that all this talking liberates him. It softens his suspicion of the outside world, it peels away some of his insularity, and he even tells me some weeks ago that hes now more patient with journalists and understands our jobs better. Of course, Ive always been nice to them, he says. I think hes grinning as he talks. I roll my eyes.When he had to make speeches at symposiums, hed be edgy, practicing before the mirror for weeks, timing himself, but now hes less ruffled. I dont agonize any more. I like doing conversation-styled events. I am brutally honest in them and try to be funny. People relate to honesty. In collaboration with GoSports Foundation, which supports emerging athletes, hes doing workshops with young shooters and even giving away rifles. Last year 10 of them, one to a Paralympian.Hes a man who has unfolded wings he never knew he had.***Shooting is a subtle, complex activity involving slow-motion movements and pellets that fly too fast to see. You can see the footballer feint, turn, accelerate but here there is an invisible beauty, the control of the heartbeat, the muscles, tiny and large, activating to ensure balance, the search for stability. Its pursuit is terrifying simple: Perfection. Press your pen to paper. It leaves a dot. Thats roughly the bullseye in the 10m air rifle. Now hit it 60 times.We are drawn, mostly, to sports which are popular, whose stars beckon us, whose history is rooted in our lands, whose movement fascinates us. Shooting does not qualify. It is not a rite of passage nor a spectacle. And yet to talk with Bindra, and watch him practice, is to be led within shooting, inside its skin, to appreciate the delicacy of its craft (the dilemma of when to trigger) and to fathom in a moving world the challenge of stillness. This is sport, too.He taught me how coldly punitive shooting is when it comes to the human error. The cost of the tiny mistake is in fact inhuman. Its not enough for him to hit the .5mm bullseye because his score will be determined by how close he is to the centre of that .5mm bullseye.He made me understand better the task of the athlete who competes only against himself. If you play directly against someone else (i.e. tennis), you need to perform only to a level high enough to beat that person. You can play at 80 per cent and win. You can be imperfect. In shooting, he competes against an entire cast of characters all at once, a 50-strong, high-class field whose skill he cant control or affect. He cannot play within himself. He cannot play just well enough. He cannot raise his game when it matters on a big shot because every shot is big. He has to give everything of himself to every single pellet fired.He offered a nuanced explanation of the idea of control, for in shooting it involves a suffocation of emotion. No reaction to a 10, none to a 9, each score worn, swallowed, moved on from, perfection shrugged at, imperfection forgotten, no rage allowed, no vocal whine, no high five (with whom), no uppercut of the air. Everyone suffers and all in equal silence.And Bindra is still suffering. He always suffers. He cant not suffer because it would mean he doesnt care. Hes just suffering less. Hes done what he had to which is to give shooting his entire being. He didnt lean on his 2008 Olympic gold, but he put aside one masterpiece and started on another canvas. And yet even as his journey isnt defined by this gold -- but by his patience, his learning, his constancy, his willingness to experiment, his medals elsewhere -- it gives his journey a particularly fine glint.He, the young boy who loved the smell of gun oil, whose parents supported his dream and bore his boyish tantrums, whose solitary personality fit this lonely sport, is proud of where hes travelled as a shooter. But its a quiet pride for he wears his uniqueness -- first Indian to win individual Olympic gold -- with a lightness. And because he has journeyed well, he comes to his last Games very much at peace. In his last three Games he skipped the tiring Opening Ceremony to prepare himself, yet now he wants to walk out, as flag-bearer, with his vast sporting clan and feel a final sense of kinship. When you retire, you no longer belong. Yes, he says, I am emotional about this Games. I have a playfulness in my nature which I had at my first Olympics in 2000.Theres always a trace of melancholy to the end of athletic journeys. After all, in their 30s, the greatest talent that young people will ever own is forever lost. Yet Bindra, right now, is too busy to play the philosopher. In April, in Rio, just hours after landing he was taking pictures of the Olympic range and mailing them to his mother. By the time he returned, his range in Chandigarh had been turned into a Rio duplicate. Same height of target. Same background colour. Same lighting.When he told me this, I grinned. I love the truth that he always wants to be a new and better and changed man. But this fastidiousness, this painstaking attention to minute detail, was one of the finest parts of his old self. And so even though this is his final Games and an emotional time, just remember, this is Abhinav Bindra. Indoor sniper. Perfections pursuer. Historys chaser. And so please, whatever you do, dont think hes on some sentimental expedition.Well, maybe just for a single second.Rohit Brijnath is a senior correspondent with The Straits Times, Singapore. ' ' '