Tue, September 27, 2005
Labor Dispute
All work and no play makes Gary a sanctimonious shit.
An episode of Survivor breaks down according to a fairly reliable formula, which begins with the return from the previous episode's Tribal Council. Nakum begins by improvising a few comments around the subject of it being a shame Jim left, although all they're really thinking is, "The average age of our team just dropped at least a decade and a half." Of course, this short-sighted perspective fails to consider the drawbacks of losing Jim – for example, the steep drop in gross tonnage of ear hair. Bobby Jon grumbles that he feels like he's "payin' rent" at Tribal Council – which I suppose is meant to indicate he's been there a lot, but in a way that's not such a bad thing. If you ask Jim, he'd probably tell you he'd much prefer to go to a lot of Tribal Councils, instead of just the one.
Then the time-lapse footage washes away the past and ushers in the bright, shimmering future. The sun rises, the tides recede, ants the size of rugby players march around. The time-lapse unit is really working overtime in Guatemala, but then they only work one minute an hour anyway.
Over at Yaxha, Stephenie is illustrating the sort of thing that's skipped in the time-lapse, hanging out at camp and braiding Amy's hair. This is one of the things about Survivor that doesn't often make it on the air: the down time. There's a few hours of high intensity battle every three days, to be sure, but there's also lots and lots of time just hanging out. (Keep this in mind; it'll be important later.)
Before long, it's time for the reward challenge, and – what do you know? – food. Well, fishhooks and bait, so not food in the "give a man a fish" sense, but still, a promise of food that would be enough to make you feel pretty dopey about lugging thirty pounds of grain through the wilderness for a full day – and then puking on it. Both teams assemble at the challenge, and as usual Probst makes a big show out of introducing the previous week's Tribal Council team to the other group. Television cameras fail to capture the amount of shock that isn't on Yaxha's faces when they see that Nakum booted the old guy first. Probst then outlines a challenge in which contestants will race over a boardwalk and a cargo net before climbing under a large rope web to detach a bag, then drop into the water below and climb a ladder back onto the net to return their bag to the team. There are eight bags, but Probst stresses that each team member must attempt the challenge only once. As soon as everyone has given it at least one try, the contestants may attempt the challenge in any order they choose. This is key, because it incentivizes giving up early if you can tell you're not going to be able to do it. Nakum's men remain weakened by dehydration and exhaustion (and, some would say, general pussery – Brandon in particular has made it clear that he expects his fellow Nakum guys to "man up" for the challenges). But their women are very strong, and the teams race very closely, until Rafe not only fails to get a bag for Yaxha, but actually fails repeatedly to climb up the ladder and get back out so the next person can try. This costs the team a huge amount of time and, ultimately, the challenge. Astonishingly, Nakum fields Blake twice rather than sending Brandon or Danni the second time. Somebody manned up!
Back at camp, Yaxha experiences something Rafe refers to as "desperation food mode," and Gary starts harping on Morgan's work ethic around the beach. I'm curious if this idea was planted by Rafe, who's already in desperation TribCon mode after that pitiful performance at the reward challenge. Rafe certainly fancies himself a strategist, so I wouldn't put it past him to whisper to a few teammates that he noticed Morgan spending a lot of time sitting still. Meanwhile, Lydia demonstrates what a fishmonger does with such detail we're almost sorry we asked. Adorably, though, the minnows she extracts from the lake are clinked like champagne glasses as Yaxha intones, "Cheers!" then chomps them down.
And then a low rumble can be heard, as the ground begins to shake ever so slightly. The leaves on the trees quiver, and the monkeys begin screeching and howling, hopping from limb to limb. Birds take to the air en masse and a five-foot tidal wave rises out of the lake – what's going on?
It's Danni, over at Nakum, dropping the Hogebomb. After only a few challenges, she's recognized Gary from his NFL career, and now the secret is out. Get under a table or door jamb! Run for safety!
The immunity challenge is a giant tug-of-war in a slimy mud pit. The teams will be lashed together, and all will pull as hard as they can to reach a flag at the edge of the pit. But we all know that'll never happen, so if nobody has a flag after fifteen minutes, the game will switch to one-on-one tugs lasting five minutes or until a tugger grabs a flag. Best of five wins. During the challenge, Brian (from Yaxha) runs over and tackles Danni (from Nakum) in a strategy that Probst mentioned but I can't understand. It makes sense to remove one of the tuggers from the other team, but in doing so, you're also removing a tugger from your team, and you have to race back over to your team at some point or else you'll be pulling against them. I'm certain Brian just wants to roll around in the mud with his arms around Danni, and I fully support that move even if it means losing immunity. As both teams tug harder, the tug-of-war belts start to pull the bikini bottoms off Danni and Morgan, a move I also support.
In the individual tugs, Gary tries racing over and tackling his opponent, which still isn't a very useful choice, strategically. Especially one-on-one, with nobody to pull in your direction while you're running the other way. Just about the only way to make that work would be to race over, tackle him, wrap his rope around his ankle a few times, then sprint back over to your side before he can use the slack to reach his flag. Then, once the line is taut, yank his foot out from under him and drag him to the middle of the pit using the rope – then run over and grab your flag. Instead, Gary is just in a pileup near the Nakum end zone. Pointless. After Gary, Jamie tries to get something started for Yaxha, and fails. In his second and final tug, he's pitted against Judd, whose bulk makes him nearly impossible to move, but Jamie gains some ground early. Then Judd wisely digs in and holds still, while Jamie struggles and strains. The key here is to dig in so you don't lose any ground, and let your opponent tire himself out pulling. Jamie comes late to this idea, but Judd does it for the entire third tug. Then just as Probst counts down the end of the five minutes, Judd surges, hauling Jamie back across the middle. Jamie, you dope. You know he's not just going to fall asleep there. Either dig in, or prepare for your own surge. Don't just lay back and wait to win, idiot!
So, Nakum wins immunity and Yaxha starts bickering about who to eliminate for their first time. Steph's name comes up at first, unsurprisingly, but cooler heads prevail as people remember that strength will be important in the early running, and no one is stronger than Stephenie. For some reason, the team seems to settle quickly on Morgan and Lydia as the two possible votes, despite the fact that there are six other people. Brian asks Gary a question that all men must answer at some time in their lives, namely: "Are you now or have you ever been an NFL quarterback?" Gary denies it unconvincingly. "What about neo-nazi Ted Danson? Are you that?" No again. Gary sounds uncannily like Clark Kent on Smallville when he interviews that he's surprised Danni would mention his secret to Brian while they were wrestling in the mud. Really? I'm not. Seems like exactly the thing to do and the time to do it. Expose Gary as a threat now, when his elimination might weaken Yaxha and before a possible merge in which he might become a threat to Danni herself. Nice move. The last thing she wants to do is get scooped on this by one of the other players, and get a lot of shit from the fellows back home in the K.C. For now, though, Gary's denial is enough to deflect suspicion, and the team continues to focus its elimination sights on Morgan and Lydia. Brian, quickly becoming an irritating little bitch, proclaims that Lydia hasn't lost Yaxha any challenges. Well, in that case, let's get rid of Rafe! This guy couldn't even lose properly – flailing in the water and preventing another person from starting the reward challenge and making up any of the ground he lost. Get rid of him right away!
The argument seems to be that Morgan is lazy at camp, but useful in challenges: small, fit, and agile. Lydia is a veritable workaholic (grinding corn into meal like she's in colonial Williamsburg) but got tuckered out on that eleven mile trek and may be a liability in future feats of strength. Rafe isn't mentioned, and I think the only reason is that he manages to involve himself in every conversation, so there's never a convenient moment for anyone to say, "But what about Rafe?" If it's sheer athleticism (as Gary explains it to Lydia), then it's Rafe by a mile. No one's less athletic than Rafe. FDR would've been faster up that ladder, even with a Nazi on his back and a stack of Bing Crosby records under one arm.
At this point in the game, it comes down to challenges. If Morgan's not pulling her weight around camp, there will be seven other people to pick up the slack; but with most challenges, every team member has to play a part. Lydia must participate in at least half the challenges, and if she falls behind, the whole team suffers. Later, when there are four or five people on the team, distributing the work evenly will be more important. Right now, challenges take priority – and the only challenge Lydia's winning is a Yeardley Smith lookalike contest. Also, you know what might be nice? A shot of Gary or Brian approaching Morgan and asking her to help out more. I'm not saying this didn't happen – it probably did. But why not show us, rather than making it seem as though the whole "work ethic" thing is treated entirely passive-aggressively? As Churchill would say, Morgan can be a harder worker tomorrow, but Lydia will still be slow and old. (And, if you were my wife, I would drink it!)
Everyone seems to lean towards Lydia, who would still be my second choice behind Rafe, but then Brian does some "last minute scrambling" (not shown) and Morgan is ousted unanimously. Probst takes a breather while the hate-bot steps up to point out the irony that Morgan was blindsided even though Yaxha talks a lot about team unity. Thank Brian for that one. And, if you don't mind, vote him off next week, too.
Speaking of next week, policewoman Amy apparently hurts her ankle, and then immediately demands that needles be driven into her eyes.
Joe Mulder — Tue, 9/27/05 10:39am
In an interview between Bill Simmons and Chuck Klosterman over at espn.com/page2, we're told that both men suspect that CBS fed Danni the information that Gary is actually Gary Hogeboom, just to make sure that he was outed at some point.
This has to be taken with a grain of salt, however, since Simmons' only weakness (he's one of the best writers named "Simmons" on the whole internet, is how good he is) is his special brand of frat guy chauvanism that rears its ugly head once in a while and has led to him admitting recently, in so many words, that he's essentially ashamed that his wife just gave birth to a daughter rather than a son. So he's not going to believe a chick sportscaster knows anything anyway.
Bee Boy — Tue, 9/27/05 11:24am
Reading the interview, I think this has to be mostly facetious. The two are "convinced" that CBS fed her the information, but I think that's meant in the same way that I'm "convinced" Kerri Strug faked an injury at the 1996 Olympic Games in order to make a more compelling story, get more TV time, and rack up the endorsements. They're sort of joshing around. Neither provides any evidence to support this claim; just like I have no evidence to support my idea that every challenge in All-Stars was rigged to favor Boston Rob.
Also, wow. Simmons really needs to hope that either a) the Internet dies or b) his daughter does. You really don't want her turning 13, reading that, and hating you for the rest of your life. Ass.
Joe Mulder — Tue, 9/27/05 12:00pm
Yeah; you could maybe write something like that if it was obvious that you were at least 51% kidding, but I didn't get that from him.
He's so good, though, that it would take him writing something truly horrible (i.e., "Dennis Green is a good football coach") for me to stop reading him.
(by the way, in the interests of fairness, here's the exchange in question [Simmons is answering a reader e-mail in his otherwise-stellar-as-always mailbag column])
See? Definitely not at least 51% kidding.