Momentum Sports Quotes

The actor, writer, and director Woody Allen once said, “80% of success is just showing up!” You Can Show Up By . . . • Participating. • Sharing ideas. • Being dependable. • Keeping your word. • Taking the initiative. • Volunteering to be of assistance. • Being there when a friend needs you. • Raising your hand and asking questions. • Attending your children’s sporting events. • Taking your place and claiming your space. • Demonstrating that you have something to offer.

In the Congo, as in Russia, mass murder had a momentum of its own. Power is tempting, and in a sense no power is greater than the ability to take someone’s life. Once under way, mass killing is hard to stop; it becomes a kind of sport, like hunting.

Moment, momentum, momentous If you reduce sports to its smallest discrete units, its subatomic particles, you're left with protons and electrons and neutrons called moments. They're the building blocks of every season, every game, every series of downs. Two or more moments may accrete into something more, a propulsive energy called momentum, which in turn can snowball into something greater still, that which is momentous. Consider those consecutive moments last Aug. 4 (2012 summer Olympics) in London, when Michael Phelps-in his final Olympic race-caught and then overtook Japan's Takeshi Matsuda on the butterfly leg of the men's 4 x 100 medley relay. Momentum passed to Phelps's U.S. teammate Nathan Adrian, who pulled away on the freestyle leg, sealing a victory that yielded Phelps's 18th gold medal, and 22nd medal overall, more than any other Olympian in history. It was like the conjugation of some Latin verb: moment, momentum, momentous. Or if you prefer: Veni, vidi, vici (we came, we saw, we conquered). From "moments of the year

I don’t take kindly to any of you shanty boys touching me,” she said. “So unless I give you permission, from now on, you’d best keep your hands off me.” With the last word, she lifted her boot and brought the heel down on Jimmy’s toes. She ground it hard. Like most of the other shanty boys, at the end of a day out in the snow, he’d taken off his wet boots and layers of damp wool socks to let them dry overnight before donning them again for the next day’s work. Jimmy cursed, but before he could move, she brought her boot down on his other foot with a smack that rivaled a gun crack. This time he howled. And with an angry curse, he shoved her hard, sending her sprawling forward. She flailed her arms in a futile effort to steady herself and instead found herself falling against Connell McCormick. His arms encircled her, but the momentum of her body caused him to lose his balance. He stumbled backward. “Whoa! Hold steady!” Her skirt and legs tangled with his, and they careened toward the rows of dirty damp socks hanging in front of the fireplace. The makeshift clotheslines caught them and for a moment slowed their tumble. But against their full weight, the ropes jerked loose from the nails holding them to the beams. In an instant, Lily found herself falling. She twisted and turned among the clotheslines but realized that her thrashing was only lassoing her against Connell. In the downward tumble, Connell slammed into a chair near the fireplace. Amidst the tangle of limbs and ropes, she was helpless to do anything but drop into his lap. With a thud, she landed against him. Several socks hung from his head and covered his face. Dirty socks covered her shoulders and head too. Their stale rotten stench swarmed around her. And for a moment she was conscious only of the fact that she was near to gagging from the odor. She tried to lift a hand to move the sock hanging over one of her eyes but found that her arms were pinned to her sides. She tilted her head and then blew sideways at the crusty, yellowed linen. But it wouldn’t budge. Again she shook her head—this time more emphatically. Still the offending article wouldn’t fall away. Through the wig of socks covering Connell’s head, she could see one of his eyes peeking at her, watching her antics. The corner of his lips twitched with the hint of a smile. She could only imagine what she looked like. If it was anything like him, she must look comical. As he cocked his head and blew at one of his socks, she couldn’t keep from smiling at the picture they both made, helplessly drenched in dirty socks, trying to remove them with nothing but their breath. “Welcome to Harrison.” His grin broke free. “You know how to make a girl feel right at home.” She wanted to laugh. But as he straightened himself in the chair, she became at once conscious of the fact that she was sitting directly in his lap and that the other men in the room were hooting and calling out over her intimate predicament. She scrambled to move off him. But the ropes had tangled them together, and her efforts only caused her to fall against him again. She was not normally a blushing woman, but the growing indecency of her situation was enough to chase away any humor she may have found in the situation and make a chaste woman like herself squirm with embarrassment. “I’d appreciate your help,” she said, struggling again to pull her arms free of the rope. “Or do all you oafs make a sport of manhandling women?” “All you oafs?” His grin widened. “Are you insinuating that I’m an oaf?” “What in the hairy hound is going on here?” She jumped at the boom of Oren’s voice and the slam of the door. The room turned quiet enough to hear the click-click of Oren pulling down the lever of his rifle. She glanced over her shoulder to the older man, to the fierceness of his drawn eyebrows and the deadly anger in his eyes as he took in her predicament.

Momentum carried the truck’s rear wheels up and off the ground. From the perspective of Howard’s low-slung sports car, the heaving back end of the truck was the mouth of a monster gaping wide to swallow him.

In his book, Networking is a Contact Sport, Joe Sweeney advises that when you attend networking events, act as if it is your party and you are the host or hostess. By doing this, you will help others be at ease and demonstrate a heart of service and generosity.

The physics of diffuse axonal injury Given our understanding of the rotational nature of diffuse axonal injury, it is now possible for us to take what we learned about levers and rotational motion in the previous chapters and apply that knowledge here to help us understand how a punch to the chin ends up stretching and damaging axons in the brainstem and throughout the brain. The first step in this process is the punch. This punch must meet a minimum energy requirement because we will be causing structural damage to axons in the brain. This punch must also meet a minimum momentum requirement because we need to spin the whole head around to damage those axons. Considering what we know about knockout punches and how boxers train, it is relatively safe to say that meeting the minimum energy requirement is not difficult, but meeting the minimum momentum requirement is. Fast punches are important strategically, but increasing the effective mass behind your punches is what gives your punch the ability to lay your opponent out on the mat. Figure 5-2. The process of diffuse axonal injury from punch to axon stretching. Left: The punch hits your opponent. Center: The punch rotates your opponent’s head around an axis located in the neck. Right: Axons located a small distance from the axis of rotation become stretched as one end of the axon travels around the axis of rotation. This story takes us from the fist to the axon, but there is still something missing. We turn our heads left and right every day, sometimes very rapidly, so what makes a punch so special? The science is still too young to be sure, but I will speculate that the peak of the force curve (figure 5-3) is typically where the axon gets rapidly extended to its natural limit, but the tail of the force curve is where the axons are damaged. The primary reason for this speculation is the empirical knowledge that pushing off the back foot is essential for a good knockout punch. Boxers and martial artists from all styles stress the importance of this push to the success of a punch. Some strikes, such as a front-hand palm strike or a square-shouldered wing chun punch, for which a back-foot push is impossible, will still generate the same long-tail force profile in figure 5-3 by making contact before the arm is fully extended and using the muscles in the arm to apply force by continuing the extension. The same profile appears when athletes tackle each other in other contact sports. There is an initial peak force at the moment of collision, but the legs continue to push after the initial peak.

The English revolution was conscious of itself: it is important to note that people in England knew that this was happening, even if most of the political and media establishments ignored it. In 2011, 60 per cent agreed to the proposition ‘People in England have become more aware of English national identity’.11 This self-awareness was also largely self-generated – tabloid jingoism, except when it came to sports that England played as a distinct country, remained ‘British’. Even the most obvious vehicle for English nationalism hid itself behind the rubric of the UK Independence Party. As the IPPR authors put it ‘the strengthening and politicisation of English identity is taking place in the absence of any formal political mobilisation. Englishness, in other words, has a momentum of its own.