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fisher-price record player.pngHere's a quality I admire in others: being difficult to buy gifts for.
 
It speaks to a kind of selflessness - to lack the conceit of those who, unasked, share their wants and preferences. Give me this person: someone whose colleagues, spouse and siblings couldn't tell you what he or she materially desires.
                                                            
My wife Marie possesses this selfless quality. In an early confidential moment about a decade ago - while we were living (separately; Catholic) in her native Dublin, I recall, Marie's older sister Sue frowned at me during the first week of November and declared with an exasperated shake of the head: "Marie is impossible to buy for."
 
No such problems here.
 
The past two years, I've been specific in the weeks leading up to Christ's birthday and my own: Get me the Oxford English Dictionary set and Slingbox. (Given Web access, I can now deliver the etymology of any word in our language while watching "The Office" on my DVR.)
 
Not only am I selfish - I'm also hypocritical, because I find gift registries totally obnoxious.
 
Isn't thinking of your gift recipient part of gift-giving?
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2727 Mission St.pngI met my wife one year after moving to San Francisco, in 1999, when she began working as a waitress in the bar and restaurant where I worked as a barman. She was out for the summer on a J-visa from Ireland, between her second and third years of university in Dublin, her native city.
 
For our first date I met her on Market Street and guided her onto a bus that carried us to Candlestick Park, to see the Giants host the St. Louis Cardinals on Orlando Cepeda Day.
 
We were two of 50,435 at the park. It was July 11. A young J.D.
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Fred Flinstone bowling.png

When I was 17, a few high school friends decided that it was cool to bowl, and five or six of us began frequenting the Rip Van Winkle Bowling Lanes here in Norwalk, Conn.
 
It's never been clear to me just how that bowling alley got its name. I'm reminded of Sunday afternoons in the living room as a kid, my father drowsing at full length on the sofa, two inches of ash suspended magically from the end of his Marlboro Red, while the late great, bespectacled southpaw Earl Anthony let it fly on ABC. (A six-time PBA Player of the Year, Anthony was the first pro bowler ever to earn more than $100,000 in a single season - take that, Roy Munson.)
 
My pals and I tossed the occasional turkey, but for the most part we were more gutter than gobbler. Back then, the bowling alley's bar was notoriously lax with respect to the federal drinking age, and we often spent most of our outings playing Golden Tee and sipping the drinks of newly indoctrinated alcoholics-to-be - pissy beer, amaretto, margaritas and kahlua.
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elephant man.png 
Here's how Wikipedia defines "seasonal affective disorder": a mood disorder in which people who have normal mental health throughout most of the year experience depressive symptoms in the winter or, less frequently, in the summer, spring or autumn, repeatedly, year after year.
 
That part about having "normal mental health" most of the time notwithstanding, it's an affliction from which my father and I both suffer.
 
His own "SAD," as it's known (how cute), worsened considerably when my dad moved to Sweden after remarrying a native Nordic. They'd been living in Manhattan when their first child was born, a girl named Heather, and a year later the three of them moved to Stockholm and another kid was born, a boy named Patrick.
 
Dad's letters and electronic missives from Sweden take dark turns in the winter months. Now that he's divorced again and living on his own, they are full of morbid self-analysis and disdain.
 
But back in the happy days of his marriage to Nina, my ex-stepmom, his "SAD" thoughts often were directed at her.
 
One of his best lines came when Patrick was just a toddler, during a rant about Nina's bossiness and how she and Swedish culture generally exact a sort of spiritual castration of males. He wondered how Patrick would develop ...
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superbowl shuffle.pngRemember 1985?
 
 That summer, Butch Wynegar caught 102 games for the New York Yankees, backed up by Ron Hassey and Juan Espino.
 
The 1985 Topps baseball card set featured a baby fat-faced Mark McGwire on a special "USA Team" Olympics sub-set that also included Shane Mack and Oddibe McDowell.
 
In 1985, my sister Rachel and I used to watch "Family Ties" and we had no idea that the mom would come out of the closet a quarter-century later (the actress who played her, that is, though I never sensed a real closeness between Elyse Keaton and her wimpy husband Michael).
 
Back in 1985, Aunt Karen and Uncle Bill were still married and my brother and I looked forward to our family outings to their country home in Bangor, Maine, because it meant we would visit our cool cousins, Kit (who would become a big "Knight Rider" fan - shocker) and Morgan (now a snowboarding instructor).
 
It also meant that we'd have access to uncle Bill's considerable "Playboy" magazine collection.
                                                            
There were other fun things to do in the Bangor. In the early years at the house, there was a beautiful golden retriever named K.B. (Karen/Bill). Our grandparents (Aunt Karen is mom's sister) lived up there toward the very ends of their lives - and Pop-Pop, for a short while, had a handsome German shepherd dog called "Champ" who scared the life out of me.
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Henry hand ball.png 
Though each of them took place more than 25 years ago - before the rise digital television, Flip camcorders or the great Thierry Henry controversy that's still dominating international sports headlines - the two most important on-field events in my life require no instant replay.
 
I remember them perfectly well.
 
They involve two of the times that my dad, straight after his work at the auto shop and still wearing his grease-encrusted "Dinan Auto" work shirt and pants, rushed onto a playing field in our quiet Connecticut town to defend the honor of one of his sons.
 
The first time it was my older brother Terry's. The 10-year-old had become embroiled in an argument near second base at Gamble Field, one of two little league diamonds at Mead Park in New Canaan, Conn. I was sitting among the spectators in the little aluminum grandstands - among the well-to-do men in polo shirts, khakis and loafers and their long-haired wives, varicose vein embolisms giving courage to short shorts that, the way they were crossed on the open grandstands, led to exciting, confused thoughts in my own 8-year-old mind.
 
Among them and my dad. Marlboro Red dangling from his face (he would switch to Marlboro Lights in my teenage years, and finally, after re-marrying a Swedish woman whose idea of lunch was cucumber slices and yogurt, to a pipe), dad stood a little apart from the grandstand crowd, gazing intently at my brother, a natural shortstop who early in his career had a habit of "pushing" rather than throwing the ball to first base.
 
At some point in the game it happened - Rob Ardigo rounded second base and collided with my brother somewhere between second a third. A fight ensued, and one of the coaches emerged from the bench to where the two boys stood tussling.
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sugar ray.pngPuberty, a futile attempt at Rogaine, 150 pounds and three cavities ago - when I was 12 - my inability to awaken from a deep sleep led to one of the most traumatic events of my life.
 
It was Monday, April 6, 1987, and at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas, Sugar Ray Leonard and Marvin Hagler were preparing to enter the ring for the World Middleweight Championship.
 
You remember the backstory: the beloved Leonard had been retired for a few years, and the shaved-headed Hagler was at the top of his game - a killer in boxing trunks.
 
At the Dinan household in New Canaan, Conn., the fight warranted a rare expenditure on Pay-Per-View - itself a technological marvel at the time. My father boxed as a middleweight in the Marines, and one of the early sporting lessons he taught my brother and me (also a traumatic event) came one summer afternoon out in the yard when he refereed a three-round bout between us. 

My mom had bought the boxing gloves at Schatzo's store in her hometown of Belmar, N.J., where we were all visiting her parents. Her own father was a boxer, a middleweight and champion of his barracks in the U.S. Army.
 
The fight with my brother was a draw.
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reggie miller.jpg
 
New York Knicks fans like me - those of us who came of age in the 1990s - will always rank Reggie Miller of the Indiana Pacers at the top of our "clutch player" lists, as well as our "most antagonistic relationships with Spike Lee" lists.
 
Who could forget Game 1 of the 1995 Eastern Conference semis? The Knickerbockers cruising to a 105-99 lead with 18.7 seconds remaining . .
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espn basketball fantasy.pngI'm planning next year to serve as commissioner in a fantasy baseball league whose owners will include relatives, friends, colleagues and my brother-in-law Bill, a guy I sometimes feel bad for.
 
Not that his wife isn't great. My little sister is what our mom would call "a great gal."
 
But Bill - like me - gets hooked on gadgets and computer games sometimes, and my sister has demonstrated little patience for that.
 
A few years back, I bought Bill a pocket-sized electronic chess game whose beeping drove my sister absolutely insane.
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ESPN Pursues Local Sports Coverage Online

September 14, 2009 2:44 PM
Thumbnail image for espnboston.png

I met my buddy David Fine nearly 25 years ago, when the two of us came up as swimmers at the New Canaan YMCA here in southwestern Connecticut.
 
Dave, more than I, would form part of a core group of guys that would emerge as one of the state's elite men's teams about a decade later, as a group of 16- to 18-year-olds - from New Canaan as well as surrounding towns - peaked late in high school under the direction of an insanely dedicated coach, Rich. The club would send more than one swimmer to what was popularly known as the "Junior Olympics," including a relay team.
 
We practiced from 5:20 to 7 a.m. every weekday morning, and then again from about 3 to 6 p.m. every week night, with a grueling 6 to 9 a.m. practice on Saturdays, for which Ludeman saved his most sinister set creations.
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al jazeera.pngOne of the auto mechanics who worked at my dad's repair shop here in Norwalk, Conn., moonlighted for a while as a Cablevision TV technician.
 
The technician - let's call him Timmy - had still another side-job where he'd get some pocket money "de-scrambling" signals through illegal set-top boxes, effectively giving basic package Cablevision subscribers access to premium channels for a one-time, cash fee. The Dinans participated in that program. (It was easier than pressing the old A and B buttons - A B A B A B A B - as fast as possible to get access to Playboy after 8 p.m.)
 
The art of stealing TV access - cable, IPTV or satellite - knows no international borders.
 
We hear today that the popular Arabic-language Al Jazeera Network's sports TV division - Al Jazeera Sport - has forged a deal with a Dutch company that helps companies protect access to their digital access.
 
Amsterdam-based Irdeto is set to protect the network's premium content with more than a half-million of its so-called "Smart Cards."
 
Specifically, the agreement is targeting the Gulf region's prolific illegal TV set-top boxes, which decrypt pay-TV channels - including pay-per-view and video-on-demand options.
 
Here's what David Canellos, senior vice president of sales and marketing for Irdeto, had to say: "Irdeto and Al Jazeera Sport have been successfully partnering in the Middle East for more than three years. We are very pleased to expand on this strong partnership and look forward to continuing to support the success of Al Jazeera Sport as a leading pay-tv operator in the region."
 
A glance at Al Jazeera Sport's Web site gives us a good idea of why the company's services are so desirable.
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Nancy Kerrigan Eyes Rink-Side Return via IPTV

September 10, 2009 10:22 AM
nancy kerrigan.pngWe heard this week from iSuppli Corp. that the IPTV market is on track to see subscriber growth of more than 50 percent this year - from 21.3 million in 2008 to 33.3 million in 2009.
 
That's not surprising, given the mobility that IPTV services deliver and the ever-increasing strength of wireless networks that deliver video to more and more portable screens, in the form of smartphones, netbooks and other devices. When fourth-generation or "4G" wireless networks see deployment in earnest over the next few years, the rate of adoption for IPTV services surely will get another boost.
 
And that's great news for tech-savvy sports fans who demand live feeds of their favorite teams and real-time news updates. Imagine what it would be like to be a New York Yankees fan and iPhone user this afternoon, if Derek Jeter were poised to break Lou Gehrig's all-time hits record for the franchise and the captain came to bat during a day game? (He's not - the Yanks take the field versus Baltimore tomorrow at the new stadium tomorrow night.)
 
Much was made of the technological feat in Beijing last summer that saw Olympic Games organizers work with the IT world to deliver more sports to more screens in real-time than ever before.
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ortiz golfing.png
Like many Major League Baseball fans whose local cable coverage includes New York Mets and New York Yankees (in order of the number of times the team lost a heart-breaking game because of a dropped pop-up with two outs in the ninth inning), my introduction to cable and telecom giant Comcast as a sports network came with my subscription to the so-called "MLB Extra Innings" package.
 
That package, a $150 item that features virtually all out-of-market baseball games - a fact that provokes an argument each March with my wife (this is one of those battles I choose to fight) - includes games fed through Comcast in markets such as Baltimore and Chicago.
 
But the MLB package just features those games, so the TV screen essentially goes blank after the final out is recorded.
 
So it makes me smile today to read that Comcast is touting its "significant milestone" of 100,000 watched by Red Sox fans on its "Red Sox On Demand" schedule.
 
It's OK for the MLB Network itself to have an around-the-clock baseball channel, because there's enough material to draw from.
 
But it's amusing to see these networks built around a single team - even a storied team, like the Red Sox or Yankees - try to provide content at all times.
 
Here's a sample of the PR that came out of Comcast today:
 
"This week, Red Sox On Demand programming includes profiles of pitcher Justin Masterson and Red Sox legend Dom DiMaggio, a special on the history of the iconic Citgo sign overlooking Fenway Park and features of Mike Lowell playing monopoly with Red Sox Foundation supporters and David Ortiz golfing during his signature fundraiser in the Dominican Republic. Red Sox On Demand also gives fans a closer look at the Cape Cod League, the Salem Red Sox and the Greenville Drive."
 
Mike Lowell playing monopoly? The history of the Citgo sign?
 
David Ortiz golfing?
 
I know the reputation of Red Sox Nation is that it's hungry for anything to do with their baseball time - so I'm delighted, genuinely, to read that the Red Sox On Demand channel offers things like games of the team's minor league affiliates.
 
But I also imagine Sox fans could do without the monopoly and the "history" of things like that sign.
 
At the same time, how could a Yankees fan rag on Red Sox Nation, when our beloved Bronx Bombers persist with that "Yankeeography" show, batting practice and Michael Kay's "Centerstage" program?
 
We can't.
 
But I'll leave the team-specific "On Demand" channels alone. Give me something more comprehensive.
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confed cup.pngI'd had a single bottle of light beer at Terri's Tavern in Port Chester, N.Y. that night 2002 - well under the legal limit - as my wife and I rode back home in my old beat up Saab, up the Boston Post Road toward Stamford, Conn.
 
After my parents' bitter divorce, my father, a Bronx-born auto mechanic, unfairly and venomously compared my mom to the Sweden-made Saab, saying something about how everything was great for the first 60,000 miles and then, bam.
 
He was wrong his ex-wife - a phenomenal woman, as Maya Angelou would say - but the Saab my wife and I drove home that night certainly was showing signs of wear. The floor panel from the rear driver's side seat was rusted out and had so many holes that you could see the pavement whizzing by underfoot. Sort of like Fred Flintstone but far more painful.
 
And the electrical system was in tatters, with brake lights and back-up lights and signal lights and head lights and high beams on the fritz almost constantly.
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monetize media.pngAs the founder and CTO of Zeugma Systems, Siegfried Luft, points out in an interesting article this week, the growth of unmanaged, data-heavy video on the Internet presents a major problem broadband service providers.
 
It's a trend that the head of the world's largest maker of computer networking gear - Cisco Systems Inc. CEO John Chambers - has been predicting for months, and one that's expected to push network capacity to the limits, even with advanced video compression technology.
 
Professional sports is emerging as one of major players in the online video space.
 
Consider that within the last week, reports emerged that the New York Yankees would become baseball's first team to have its games streamed live over the Internet within its home market (through Cablevision), and that an iPhone 3G application (which runs through WiFi) that's widely viewed as baseball's best now is adding live game streaming features.
 
Analysts say that video traffic over the Internet will grow at a rate of 28 percent annually, while some broadband service providers have suggested an even higher growth rate of 40 percent. Cisco recently suggested that video would represent 90 percent of all Internet traffic by 2013.
 
That may be challenging news for BSPs, but it's also good news for much of the IT and telecom industries, including an Anaheim, Calif.-based online video technology company that's developed a live streaming video platform.
 
This week, the director of sales and marketing at Monetize Media Inc., Brent Grablachoff - a guy who, like me, hails from what we call the "tri-state area" (New York, New Jersey, Connecticut) but now lives at works in sunny SoCal - contacted me about his company's offering, and it's both interesting and impressive.
 
It strikes me that there are two major things that this platform is designed to do: Help enterprising people create professional videos that can be uploaded quickly, and help them make money off of that work, whether it's through viewing, ad revenue or subscriptions or another form of membership.
 
The company's streaming solutions let users stream multiple live camera feeds while mixing in other media such as movies, images and sounds, minimizing annoying things (from a user's perspective) such as buffering delays.
 
And here's a peek into the future of this technology: The platform allows users to stream remotely using a mobile phone.
 
I had a chance to put some questions to Grablachoff (printed in full below), and discovered two things that jumped out at me. One is that he, like Chambers, wholeheartedly believes in the evolution of the Internet to a video-based space, and two is that the news about the Yankees' live streaming spurred an uptick in interest for his company's product.
 
Our exchange follows.
 
Michael Dinan: A lot of us read every day about how media outlets, such as newspapers, are struggling to find ways to make money off of content that's posted to the Web. Your product appears to be cloud-based. Exactly how does your product "monetize" video footage?
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