A few thoughts after two weeks away from the best time zone in sports

And we're back.

PORTLAND — It’s not the easiest to keep up with Pacific Northwest sports on the other side of the world. 

We didn’t get the Pac-12 Network at my brother’s apartment in Mozambique.

Still, I did my best over the last two weeks to keep tabs on things. The internet still works, and I was grateful to hear Roxy Bernstein’s poetic final call of the Pac-12, see replays of Bryce Boettcher’s 11th-inning bomb and read many of the wonderfully heartfelt pieces that came following the passing of Bill Walton. 

Shane Hoffmann let me know about that one. We had just checked into a rondavel in Hoedspruit after driving across the border to South Africa and we were gearing up for a four-day adventure through Kruger National Park, where we’d see leopards, giraffes, hippopotamuses, ostrich, wildebeest, impala, springbok, baboons and so many elephants that I actually said, “If I see another damn elephant…” as we unsuccessfully tried to find some more lions.

You’ll never forget the moment you realize you’re the only one in your family who hasn’t become a birder. Yet.

Still, nothing out there was quite as unique as that tie-dyed, red-headed, 7-footer who squeezed every ounce he could out of the 71 years he spent on this planet. 

I loved that, in the wake of the death of such a large figure, only more stories came out about how special of a human he was. I won’t add much, other than I’m going to miss seeing Walton interact with students and fans before, during and after broadcasts, when the cameras were off. He was the easiest figure to recognize in every gym he went in, everyone felt like they knew him and he seemingly embraced the responsibility of knowing how much an interaction with him could mean to someone.

That’s pretty special in this business.

I was down for a moment after getting Shane’s text. I was also bummed to see Eugene voted against keeping the Emeralds, ending a relationship between the minor league club and Lane County that dates back to 1955. I tried, for really one of the first times, to not let the day-to-day of the American sports world affect my life. I figured Walton would approve of that, considering this was a once-in-a-lifetime trip.

I swam in the Indian Ocean, played squash with my dad and diplomat brothers in open-air courts, packed into a roofless Landcruiser and hoped the guides knew what they were talking about as those leopards strolled right past our vehicle. My goodness is southern Africa a paradise for hot sauce — I put that Piri Piri on chicken, pizza, prawns and all up in the paella we ate at a dinner this guy serves once a week out of his garage for 40. I also realized I don’t do super well with heights about halfway through this walk over Motitsi Falls in Graskop.

I also considered seeing if the Portland Timbers wanted to pay for me to extend the trip for another week after they tallied seven points in three games and recorded the club’s first clean sheet of the season.

Their final point of my departure, Saturday’s 2-2 draw with Houston, came during our four-hour layover in Dubai on the route home. It was 7:30 a.m. Sunday there, we’d just flown eight hours from Johannesburg and were staring down the barrel of a 14.5-hour marathon to Seattle.¹ Dubai is the busiest airport in the world for international travel and felt every bit like it as an endless stream of people filtered past as I watched the Timbers come back from 1-0 and 2-1 deficits on my phone. I nearly caused an international incident jumping from my chair when Evander rang a rocket off the crossbar in the final minutes.

It was about then that I realized I’d been gone far too long. I needed to get back to see how this college baseball season ends. I needed to get back to start cranking out these Big Ten opponent previews, to see if the Thorns could start another winning streak after their first loss in nearly two months and to get my butt down to Walker Stadium Tuesday night in Lents to see what sort of party accompanies the Pickles’ 10 cent beer night.

It was great to disconnect, but I’ve never been happier to be back in the Pacific Time Zone, here along the I-5 Corridor, with a bunch of really great stories to tell. I appreciate you all for sticking around while the site’s been thin the last two weeks. Let me know in the comments if there’s anything I missed or that’s coming up that you especially want to read about.

See ya out there,

Tyson Alger, The I-5 Corridor

1. Fun fact: You can watch 13 consecutive episodes of This is Us on that flight, as proven by a woman in my row. Frightening fact: She watched 13 consecutive episodes of This is Us without crying.