I’m back from my justified suspension (apologies, readers) and I find that, despite my snafu on reporting the women’s short program, I want nothing more than to write on tonight’s Olympic events… but there are none. Alas, the Games are over. And there is a hole in my heart.
The only thing I can do is to share my lasting impressions of the Vancouver Olympics as a way to try to heal the wound that NBC has dealt me by not mandating the games go on. Therefore, I present you the top three images (about which I have not already commented) that resound for me from these Winter Olympics:
3) Apolo Anton Ohno. Enough already. I get that he’s good (not as good as the Koreans) but for the love of all that’s holy, enough. Yes, he’s the most decorated athlete in US Winter Olympic history, but really, has anyone ever seen short-track skating except during the Olympics? Is he that big a deal? I love watching the sport, mind you, but probably only because I get to see it only once every four years. Also, can someone tell me what the hell that thing is on Ohno’s face? It’s not a soul patch– it’s a soul field. And what about his Rock of Love bandanna? Take off the headkerchief, dammit. I root for you out of patriotism, but I secretly liked when you got DQed in the your final solo event.
You know what? You can put the bandanna back on.
2) Cross Country Skiing, Classic Style. The straight-in-line, regimented style of skiing was awesome. None of that push your left leg out awkwardly, pull with the ski poles, looking like you’ve got one leg longer than the other freestyle business. No, there is something elegant about the classic style, and it certainly made the sprints to the finish some kind of awesome.
Classic.
1) Bewilderment on the face of US curling skip John Shuster. His lack of clutch performativity has been widely documented, as he failed to close three of the first four matches in the Olympics and struggled throughout. According to reports, uproar was such that Shuster’s Wikipedia entry was hacked to reflect that he was one of the greatest choke artists of all-time. I watched nearly every stone of US play (thanks to late-night CNBC repeats) and I cannot argue much with the assessment of Shuster’s choking. He was way off his game, and there was something about the look on his face each time he did not pull off a shot that was both sad and compelling.
It's like his arms got heavier and heavier. Got to feel for the man.
i want to get into cross-country skiing.