Random thoughts while coming down from my two week Olympic bender…
-I was watching the men’s marathon on Monday on Tivo (yes, I’m that much of a dork) and even though I knew it was coming, I was still amazed to see Lucky the Leprechaun leaping from the crowd to tackle that poor little Brazilian dude who was in first place. Apparently, this guy has a history of disrupting sporting events, once running onto the racetrack at a European Grand Prix event and flagging down cars. The most amazing part of this story to me is not that the runner, Vanderlei de Lima, was molested by a defrocked Irish priest (hey, at least Lima’s of age), nor that Kenny Rogers , looking a bit haggard in a blue t-shirt and biker shorts, jumped the fence to come to Lima’s aid, but the fact that the plucky Brazilian kept racing after the incident and even held off the pack to finish with the bronze. I guess that’s what training during Carnival will do for you.
-European Union loyalists are attempting to take credit for the 82 gold medals earned by athletes of its member countries. Furthermore, outgoing EU president (the presidency of the Union is passed from country to country on a yearly rotating basis…beware the Franco-Serbian dynasty of 2005-06) Romano Prodi has suggested that member of the EU carry the Union’s flag into the Olympic stadium in Bejing in 2008 along with their own flag. Now far be it from to tell the Euros how to run their government or whatever they’re calling it these days, but this is too much. I mean, a country can maintain its dignity and sovereignty without its own national currency or armed forces, but to strip Ireland’s Cian O’Connor of his (her? their? my?) gold medal in Equestrian – Individual Jumping (which I believe involves competitors leaping over horses) is to destroy the healthy spirit of competition that has made Europe a hotbed of political and military strife for the past 3000 years. For shame, Romano, for shame.
-In the least surprising move of the post-Olympic fallout, American swimmer/ Bat Boy look-alike/child of incest Michael Phelps has spun his six gold and two bronze medals into the much-coveted spot in your grocers cereal aisle. For their own safety, please be sure to shield your child’s eyes from the gruesomely disfigured visage of Phelps glaring down at them from the nearest Wheaties box.
-I think that if H ever hears the word Pheidippides again, she’s gonna crack.
-The much-maligned U.S. men’s basketball team managed to scrape by with a third place finish by beating Lithuania in the bronze-medal match, thanks in no part to inept coaching by pseudo-guru Larry Brown and constant reaming by the American media. A couple of bright notes: Allen Iverson actually stepped up and showed himself to be the heart and soul of his Olympic team; the rest of the world showed USA Basketball how much can be accomplished by a team of one or two superstars (Yao Ming for China, Manu Ginobli for Argentina, Saleh for Kenya) and a bunch of other guys who can shoot the lights out from the internationally shrunken three-point line; a young upstart Italian team, devoid of any international players, made it to the gold medal game before being defeated by a far-superior Argentine squad; and Lisa Leslie (she’s a man, man!) and the U.S. team proved that women’s basketball is an up-and-coming sensation around the world and that the WNBA has far greener pastures ahead than its male counterpart. Okay, okay! I kid, I kid!
-H & I went to the beach with a buncha people on Sunday and I had the opportunity to try my luck at my new favorite sport: beach volleyball. Shit, man, it ain’t easy! First off, thanks to Bob for being such an understanding teammate. Secondly, sand is fucking hot, and my feet are still thanking me for that. Thirdly, I honestly can’t think of a better work out than running, jumping and diving (yes diving) on sand for an hour. It’s two days later and I still feel like I just checked out of the Hanoi Hilton. Lastly, I had grains of sand embedded in orifices that I honestly never even knew existed. The high point, of course, is that I looked damn good in that bikini.
I’m out…Sox are kickin’ some Angel ass and I ain’t gonna miss it.
B
-I was watching the men’s marathon on Monday on Tivo (yes, I’m that much of a dork) and even though I knew it was coming, I was still amazed to see Lucky the Leprechaun leaping from the crowd to tackle that poor little Brazilian dude who was in first place. Apparently, this guy has a history of disrupting sporting events, once running onto the racetrack at a European Grand Prix event and flagging down cars. The most amazing part of this story to me is not that the runner, Vanderlei de Lima, was molested by a defrocked Irish priest (hey, at least Lima’s of age), nor that Kenny Rogers , looking a bit haggard in a blue t-shirt and biker shorts, jumped the fence to come to Lima’s aid, but the fact that the plucky Brazilian kept racing after the incident and even held off the pack to finish with the bronze. I guess that’s what training during Carnival will do for you.
-European Union loyalists are attempting to take credit for the 82 gold medals earned by athletes of its member countries. Furthermore, outgoing EU president (the presidency of the Union is passed from country to country on a yearly rotating basis…beware the Franco-Serbian dynasty of 2005-06) Romano Prodi has suggested that member of the EU carry the Union’s flag into the Olympic stadium in Bejing in 2008 along with their own flag. Now far be it from to tell the Euros how to run their government or whatever they’re calling it these days, but this is too much. I mean, a country can maintain its dignity and sovereignty without its own national currency or armed forces, but to strip Ireland’s Cian O’Connor of his (her? their? my?) gold medal in Equestrian – Individual Jumping (which I believe involves competitors leaping over horses) is to destroy the healthy spirit of competition that has made Europe a hotbed of political and military strife for the past 3000 years. For shame, Romano, for shame.
-In the least surprising move of the post-Olympic fallout, American swimmer/ Bat Boy look-alike/child of incest Michael Phelps has spun his six gold and two bronze medals into the much-coveted spot in your grocers cereal aisle. For their own safety, please be sure to shield your child’s eyes from the gruesomely disfigured visage of Phelps glaring down at them from the nearest Wheaties box.
-I think that if H ever hears the word Pheidippides again, she’s gonna crack.
-The much-maligned U.S. men’s basketball team managed to scrape by with a third place finish by beating Lithuania in the bronze-medal match, thanks in no part to inept coaching by pseudo-guru Larry Brown and constant reaming by the American media. A couple of bright notes: Allen Iverson actually stepped up and showed himself to be the heart and soul of his Olympic team; the rest of the world showed USA Basketball how much can be accomplished by a team of one or two superstars (Yao Ming for China, Manu Ginobli for Argentina, Saleh for Kenya) and a bunch of other guys who can shoot the lights out from the internationally shrunken three-point line; a young upstart Italian team, devoid of any international players, made it to the gold medal game before being defeated by a far-superior Argentine squad; and Lisa Leslie (she’s a man, man!) and the U.S. team proved that women’s basketball is an up-and-coming sensation around the world and that the WNBA has far greener pastures ahead than its male counterpart. Okay, okay! I kid, I kid!
-H & I went to the beach with a buncha people on Sunday and I had the opportunity to try my luck at my new favorite sport: beach volleyball. Shit, man, it ain’t easy! First off, thanks to Bob for being such an understanding teammate. Secondly, sand is fucking hot, and my feet are still thanking me for that. Thirdly, I honestly can’t think of a better work out than running, jumping and diving (yes diving) on sand for an hour. It’s two days later and I still feel like I just checked out of the Hanoi Hilton. Lastly, I had grains of sand embedded in orifices that I honestly never even knew existed. The high point, of course, is that I looked damn good in that bikini.
I’m out…Sox are kickin’ some Angel ass and I ain’t gonna miss it.
B
posted by bd @ 8/31/2004 04:51:00 PM
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