Minor Adjustments

I watch a fair bit of sports, mostly hockey, golf and tennis. My interest in golf was rekindled a few years ago when Tiger Woods played that tournament on his badly injured leg. As I suffer my own kind of pain, I was impressed with his courage, his determination. Even though he was gone from the scene for awhile, my interest remained.

Golf is as good a way as any to while away a summer’s afternoon. My son-in-law plays, so I finally have someone to talk the game with. For me it’s watching only, and it makes for a great napping background.

I was watching one day and realized that there is always a camera on Tiger Woods. If not actually “live” there will be photos or bits played on different news or golf shows. How uncomfortable that must be, to have to guard your expression, to be aware of any mutterings that could be lip-read, or to watch your body language.

What happens if you have to sneeze, or blow your nose, or (not to be rude) scratch your ass? On that particular day of TV watching, I thought of all of this as I watched Tiger’s antics, as casual and subtle as he tried to be.

He’d just finished putting, had done a bit of bending and such to look at the line, spot his ball and then retrieve it from the hole. All that activity could make one’s (and I think this pertains particularly to men) underwear twist, maybe bind a little? I mean, let’s be real, is that not why men are always adjusting themselves?

Tiger walked away from the green that day, the camera following in his wake. I saw him stretch his left leg out as he stepped, giving it a bit of a jerk. He did this a couple of times before he walked normally. Unless he was fighting off a sudden spasm, I think he made a minor adjustment.

I thought of this as I watched the tennis the other night. Here again is an individual sport, and any player on the court is going to have a camera on him, especially in the big tournaments. This player did the same kind of leg jerk, and went so far as to pull at his shorts so as to make himself more comfortable.

These guys are constantly handed towels to wipe the sweat off their faces, and you can see them often wipe their hands and the grip on their racquets. They wear bands on their wrists which I assume are to prevent the sweat running down their arms that could impact their hold. They also come in handy to wipe their face, often under their nose, across their upper lip.

Someone should invent such a thing for snotty nosed kids. They could wipe their nose, hands free. Maybe such a thing could come with removable layers to discard when soiled. I mean really, do you know any kids who pull a tissue out of their pocket to wipe their nose?

Maybe, when someone watched a player use his shirt tail to wipe his face, the idea for wrist bands was born. Inspiration can come from any source, but most often in response to a need.

Makes me think I need to be more observant. What could be the next big thing, that one thing that everybody would need and want? And of course, if I came up with the answer that “thing” would make me rich. A girl can dream, can’t she?