After watching the Olympics’ opening ceremonies on Friday night, Brooke and I decided two things: 1. that maybe, just maybe, the Beijing Olympics really are worth our time; and 2. that the Chinese are dangerously organized, and could rule the world with martial arts, mesmerizing rhythmic drumming, and trickery* if they wanted to.
And yes, it may sound smug of me to say that the Olympics, the oldest and most cherished global sporting tradition, borne of the ancient Greeks and Romans nitpicking about who would be ancestor to the modern world, isn’t worth my time. But I don’t mean it like that. I love the Olympics. I love the national camaraderie, the chill moments, the pursuit of perfection, and the heartwarming stories – like the 9-year old Chinese boy who not only survived the earthquake but saved two of his classmates by digging them out of the rubble, and when asked why he risked his life to save his classmates, said, “I was the hall monitor, it was my job to look after my school mates.” INSERT SNIFFLING HERE.
The problem I’ve always had with the Olympic Games is how big they are. For a control freak like me, I hate feeling like I’m missing out on something – that someone is winning a gold medal over here, while the inspirational Eric Moussambani is competing over there. It’s the same reason why I don’t read about global economics or the Electoral College: I’m never going to know everything about it, so better not to broach the topic at all.
So in a two-week event that encompasses sports as varied as archery, badminton, baseball, basketball, boxing, canoe/kayaking, cycling, diving, equestrian, fencing, field hockey, gymnastics, handball (WHAT?), judo, modern pentathlon, rowing, sailing, shooting, soccer, softball, swimming, tennis, tae kwondo, track & field, triathlon, volleyball, water polo, weightlifting, and wrestling, you’re bound to miss something. Which is a shame, because even though the American media would have you think differently (Why don’t you just give Michael Phelps a handjob and get it over with, NBC?) all the gold medals are equally important regardless of what event they are won in. Just because everyone goes gaga over the 100m dash doesn’t mean that the guy who secured gold in trampoline should go home with his head hung low because no one want-
Wait, did I say trampoline? You bet I did! Apparently it’s been part of the games since the year 2000 and, in my opinion, has remained a grossly underappreciated event. Which is why, aside form a new, limited edition sidebar box detailing my Olympic Moment of the Day, the only sport I will be covering here is trampoline. (That’s probably a lie.) And I promise to do it with style, grace, and thoroughness, or, in the event that those three things are unavailable to me, humor and guesswork. Trampoline doesn’t start until day 8, so that gives me plenty of time to prepare.
In fact, Brooke and I have already started. We began trying out some moves on the bed yesterday, but after one of us (her) hit our head on the ceiling fan, we thought it would be best to have sex instead. Don’t worry, I brought home the gold. U-S-A! U-S-A!
* If you were as blown away as we were by the pyrotechnics display, someone had better call the cops because you’ve been had. It turns out that some of the beautiful and seemingly dangerous explosions that took place during the opening ceremonies were in fact computer generated for TV. Because that’s what the Olympics are all about – deception and tomfoolery. Who does
It seems that fireworks aren’t the only victims of
“Lin Miaoke may have appeared to be the star of the Olympics opening ceremony after she sang "Ode to the Motherland;" however, one member of China's Politburo revealed Miaoke had lip-synched the song, after the original singer, Yang Peiyi, was told she was not good-looking enough.”
It’s the old switcheroo! Once again,
I’m not sure exactly what that means, but I’m confident that Angelina Jolie will get to the bottom of it. Also, Puppy just laid his chin down on my foot and it’s the cutest thing ever. Way cuter than Yang Peiyi.