| Jim Taylor's World Record 36 hours of non-stop Subbuteo (5/15/2004 7:00am - 5/16/2004 7:00pm) |
| " Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in a world they've been given than to explore the power to change it. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is Nothing. " |
A BIG THANKS !
Although I considered the world record attempt a
personal challenge, the event captured the
imagination of the Subbuteo world, provoking a
flood of opinions.
Wrote one player: "Only 36 hours? I remember a
couple of boys played for 111 hours, 11 minutes and
11 seconds in the late 1980s."
Daniel Tatarksy, author of a forthcoming book on
Subbuteo, warned Vincent, "Better tell Jim that the
record is more than 36 hours. Five boys from
Peterborough played for about 45 hours non-stop.
Their picture was on on the 72/73 catalogue."
Daniel later told me that Paul Chambers and Tim
Peters played non-stop for 62 hours and 7 minutes
in 1987.
Then there was the Virgin Mary joke, which ruffled a
few feathers, leading Vincent Coppenolle to issue a
formal apology. Wrote Mike Rowan: "Not funny at all.
And I'm an Englishman!"
As word quickly spread around the world, a Belgian
radio station caught wind of the crazy stunt and
immediately contacted Vincent Coppenolle. "C'est
vrai?" The story was soon broadcast all over Belgium.
The gestures of goodwill were overwhelming,
especially from Scotland. Robert Ramsay, Iain Bell and
the Birkhill Table Soccer Club wished me the best of
luck.
Remember John McGiffen? He starred in the Channel
4 program about the 1990 World Cup. Well, he
appeared out of nowhere to give me his best
regards.
Clifford Borg-Marks earnestly wanted to film the
marathon for his documentary, but had to bow out
at the last minute due to a back injury.
The funniest e-mail I got was from Robson Dimitrov,
a player in MA. "Go, Jim, Go !" Unfortunately, he
sent it to me 3 days after I earned the record.
Based on what I had to endure, I'm convinced that
the previous world record claims are dubious. I
believe that great liberties were taken concerning
rest periods and other assorted rules. Does
'non-stop' mean what it says, or does it mean
playing non-stop from 8:00 a.m.-6:00 p.m., so that
the youngsters can eat a hot meal and get a good
night's sleep?
If you still think those old records are credible,
conduct this experiment. Sit in an armchair for 62
hours and see if you can stay awake. You can have
one 15-minute break and 1 hour of sleep every 8
hours. Sweet dreams.
For those who haven't read about my 36-hour
marathon, here's a brief summary. The first 8 hours
were fun. The next 10 were OK. And the last 18
were hell. The hours between 2-6 a.m. were the
toughest. I thought my eyes were going to burst. I
was stumbling around the table like a drunkard.
When my wife awoke to see me still flicking on
Sunday morning, she screamed in horror," Stop this!
You look terrible. Your face is pale! You're doing this
just because of your super Ego!" "No," I muttered,
"Only 11 more hours to go."
The 15- minute breaks were so short that by the
time I had washed my face, powdered my feet, and
changed my socks I only had 3 minutes left to rest
my feet.
Most of the time, I just dribbled the ball around the
field. Phone calls from fellow players were the
highlight of my day. (I flicked with my left hand and
held the phone with my right.) If I had to make a
call, my wife dialed the number for me.
During the midnight hours, Nick Giffen and Eric
Walton gave me a ring. (Eric was walking his dog at
2:00 a.m.). And Vincent frequently stopped by to
watch me on the webcam. I was flicking when he
left for work in the morning and I was still flicking
when he returned home in the evening.
As the 'finish line' neared, Massimo and I engaged in
a madcap shootout to the delight of the webcam
viewers. People were knocking to get into the Chat
Room. A chorus of chimes sounded with each shot
and the computer screen lit up with messages. Nick,
Eric, and Vincent were among the hecklers. We
couldn't stop laughing when Massimo hit me in the
eye with a chip shot.
At the end of 36 hours, I was physically and mentally
exhausted. Since I only went to the bathroom once
every 8 hours, my body was dehydrated. My hands
were swollen. My eyes sore. My feet painful. My back
stooped. My hamstrings taut as guitar strings. And
the ligaments in my shoulder and elbow were
strained.
News about the accomplishment streaked across the
Subbuteo community like Haley's Comet. Within the
next few days, our website got over 500 hits. The
crazy American did it ! He set the FISTF world record
for practicing Subbuteo!
For 36 hours, there was at least one person playing
Subbuteo somewhere on the planet every minute of
the day. Heaven is here on earth.
Although I considered the world record attempt a
personal challenge, the event captured the
imagination of the Subbuteo world, provoking a
flood of opinions.
Wrote one player: "Only 36 hours? I remember a
couple of boys played for 111 hours, 11 minutes and
11 seconds in the late 1980s."
Daniel Tatarksy, author of a forthcoming book on
Subbuteo, warned Vincent, "Better tell Jim that the
record is more than 36 hours. Five boys from
Peterborough played for about 45 hours non-stop.
Their picture was on on the 72/73 catalogue."
Daniel later told me that Paul Chambers and Tim
Peters played non-stop for 62 hours and 7 minutes
in 1987.
Then there was the Virgin Mary joke, which ruffled a
few feathers, leading Vincent Coppenolle to issue a
formal apology. Wrote Mike Rowan: "Not funny at all.
And I'm an Englishman!"
As word quickly spread around the world, a Belgian
radio station caught wind of the crazy stunt and
immediately contacted Vincent Coppenolle. "C'est
vrai?" The story was soon broadcast all over Belgium.
The gestures of goodwill were overwhelming,
especially from Scotland. Robert Ramsay, Iain Bell and
the Birkhill Table Soccer Club wished me the best of
luck.
Remember John McGiffen? He starred in the Channel
4 program about the 1990 World Cup. Well, he
appeared out of nowhere to give me his best
regards.
Clifford Borg-Marks earnestly wanted to film the
marathon for his documentary, but had to bow out
at the last minute due to a back injury.
The funniest e-mail I got was from Robson Dimitrov,
a player in MA. "Go, Jim, Go !" Unfortunately, he
sent it to me 3 days after I earned the record.
Based on what I had to endure, I'm convinced that
the previous world record claims are dubious. I
believe that great liberties were taken concerning
rest periods and other assorted rules. Does
'non-stop' mean what it says, or does it mean
playing non-stop from 8:00 a.m.-6:00 p.m., so that
the youngsters can eat a hot meal and get a good
night's sleep?
If you still think those old records are credible,
conduct this experiment. Sit in an armchair for 62
hours and see if you can stay awake. You can have
one 15-minute break and 1 hour of sleep every 8
hours. Sweet dreams.
For those who haven't read about my 36-hour
marathon, here's a brief summary. The first 8 hours
were fun. The next 10 were OK. And the last 18
were hell. The hours between 2-6 a.m. were the
toughest. I thought my eyes were going to burst. I
was stumbling around the table like a drunkard.
When my wife awoke to see me still flicking on
Sunday morning, she screamed in horror," Stop this!
You look terrible. Your face is pale! You're doing this
just because of your super Ego!" "No," I muttered,
"Only 11 more hours to go."
The 15- minute breaks were so short that by the
time I had washed my face, powdered my feet, and
changed my socks I only had 3 minutes left to rest
my feet.
Most of the time, I just dribbled the ball around the
field. Phone calls from fellow players were the
highlight of my day. (I flicked with my left hand and
held the phone with my right.) If I had to make a
call, my wife dialed the number for me.
During the midnight hours, Nick Giffen and Eric
Walton gave me a ring. (Eric was walking his dog at
2:00 a.m.). And Vincent frequently stopped by to
watch me on the webcam. I was flicking when he
left for work in the morning and I was still flicking
when he returned home in the evening.
As the 'finish line' neared, Massimo and I engaged in
a madcap shootout to the delight of the webcam
viewers. People were knocking to get into the Chat
Room. A chorus of chimes sounded with each shot
and the computer screen lit up with messages. Nick,
Eric, and Vincent were among the hecklers. We
couldn't stop laughing when Massimo hit me in the
eye with a chip shot.
At the end of 36 hours, I was physically and mentally
exhausted. Since I only went to the bathroom once
every 8 hours, my body was dehydrated. My hands
were swollen. My eyes sore. My feet painful. My back
stooped. My hamstrings taut as guitar strings. And
the ligaments in my shoulder and elbow were
strained.
News about the accomplishment streaked across the
Subbuteo community like Haley's Comet. Within the
next few days, our website got over 500 hits. The
crazy American did it ! He set the FISTF world record
for practicing Subbuteo!
For 36 hours, there was at least one person playing
Subbuteo somewhere on the planet every minute of
the day. Heaven is here on earth.
I'd like to thank the following people for their support:
My wife, to whom I owe everything. Without you I'd be
living in a bare room under a naked lightbulb. You adamantly
refused to be part of this stupid adventure, but in the end
you ended up cooking for everyone. I love you.
To Massimo, my archrival. You were there for me every
step of the way. I can't say enough.
To Vincent. Subbuteo is nothing without you. Thank you
for getting the word out.
To Miguel: Thanks for the "Do the Impossible" quote.
To Tom Shirley, Lenny Foster, Nick Giffen, Eric Walton, and
Paul Eyes. Thanks for calling me. Your encouraging words
helped me make it to the end.
To my son, Gary Acebuche, and his friend, Shawn Ransom.
Thanks for keeping a watchful eye over me and making
sure I didn't cheat. Also thanks for monitoring the Yahoo
Instant Messenger. (By the way, folks, these guys played
video games for over 30 hours!)
To Eddie Davidson. Thanks for sharing your sunny
disposition and bringing over Jeff, Ostap, and Pablo.
To the Birkhill Table Soccer Club. Your support really hit
home.
To Myra Shurko. Thanks for trying to organize
around-the-clock medical care. I really appreciate your
efforts.
To Mrs. Joiner. Thanks for making yourself available in case
of a medical problem. (To those who wish to break the
record: If your heart starts palpitating, stop!)
To Michael Lacaille. Thanks for fixing our computer so that
the event could be broadcast live over the Net.
To my in-laws, Ross and Ruth Pascua. Thanks for letting me
use your webcam.
To 4-year-old Julia Conturso. I'm sorry for saying "I won.
You lost." You're beautiful.
To all those who pledged money, including Roberto
Conturso. We raised over $160.00 for the Patapsco Middle
School !
To all those whom I neglected to mention. I'm sorry. I was
too tired to remember everyone who visited the Chat
Room.
To the Subbuteo Club of Connecticut. You're # 1 !
Jim Taylor
My wife, to whom I owe everything. Without you I'd be
living in a bare room under a naked lightbulb. You adamantly
refused to be part of this stupid adventure, but in the end
you ended up cooking for everyone. I love you.
To Massimo, my archrival. You were there for me every
step of the way. I can't say enough.
To Vincent. Subbuteo is nothing without you. Thank you
for getting the word out.
To Miguel: Thanks for the "Do the Impossible" quote.
To Tom Shirley, Lenny Foster, Nick Giffen, Eric Walton, and
Paul Eyes. Thanks for calling me. Your encouraging words
helped me make it to the end.
To my son, Gary Acebuche, and his friend, Shawn Ransom.
Thanks for keeping a watchful eye over me and making
sure I didn't cheat. Also thanks for monitoring the Yahoo
Instant Messenger. (By the way, folks, these guys played
video games for over 30 hours!)
To Eddie Davidson. Thanks for sharing your sunny
disposition and bringing over Jeff, Ostap, and Pablo.
To the Birkhill Table Soccer Club. Your support really hit
home.
To Myra Shurko. Thanks for trying to organize
around-the-clock medical care. I really appreciate your
efforts.
To Mrs. Joiner. Thanks for making yourself available in case
of a medical problem. (To those who wish to break the
record: If your heart starts palpitating, stop!)
To Michael Lacaille. Thanks for fixing our computer so that
the event could be broadcast live over the Net.
To my in-laws, Ross and Ruth Pascua. Thanks for letting me
use your webcam.
To 4-year-old Julia Conturso. I'm sorry for saying "I won.
You lost." You're beautiful.
To all those who pledged money, including Roberto
Conturso. We raised over $160.00 for the Patapsco Middle
School !
To all those whom I neglected to mention. I'm sorry. I was
too tired to remember everyone who visited the Chat
Room.
To the Subbuteo Club of Connecticut. You're # 1 !
Jim Taylor
