Skip to main content

WHAAAT?! DID YOU SAY SWEEP?!

The Olympic Sport for Day Nine:

Men's Curling: Canada v. Great Britain

The Olympic "Athlete" for Day Nine:

The Crowd

Their moment:

Have curling fans always been this raucous?! Watching tape-delayed coverage I was shocked and alarmed. The crowd was singing O Canada (properly, btw Nikki Yanofsky), stomping their feet in the stands, blowing horns, ringing cow bells, chanting "Can-a-da", shouting out choreographed cheers ... I just don't know how the players could concentrate amidst all the weight of all that ambiance. But, way to throw your voice and support behind your team! Go Curling Crowd!

Honourable Mention for Day Nine:

Jon Montgomery's acceptance of the Gold for Skeleton.

In an Olympics where Canadian athletes seem to have translated "Own the Podium" as "What Do You Mean I Have to Perform ... Don't You Just Give Me The Medal?" (a close second translation being "Olympics? No, This Is Just Another Competition For Me. Que Sera Sera"), Montgomery wanted it, he worked for it, and he celebrated getting it. He blended the non-stereotypically-Canadian reaction of exuberant confidence in his achievement with a stereotypically-Canadian reaction of crediting his teammates, his town, his family, his friends and his countrymen/women for the Gold.

The blend looks good on you, Montgomery. (in hindsight, you deserved the Athlete of Day Eight recognition. My apologies.)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Picture Puzzler

A friend sent me another picture from the wrap party. As I looked at it, and recalled the good times, I was struck by something really unusual. See if you can spot it: I'll give you all some time to guess...

Batten down the hatches -- we're in it for the long haul!

Given that the weather reports for Edmonton this weekend are grim grim grim (lows of minus 33, highs of minus 25 -- with wind chills of around minus 35 to 40), I woke up early this morning to get all errands for the weekend out of the way in one fell swoop. I barely needed a coat this morning as I headed out to my car to embark on my mission. With each passing hour, the thermometer dipped a degree or twelve. By time I was done driving around (and paused to catch a movie at the neighbourhood googolplex), it was chill-lay outside. I am now snuggly boarded up in my apartment, with no plans to so much as peek my nose out my window until Tuesday (when the temps shall return to a balmy minus 15). Groceries? Check. Toiletries? Check. Magazines to curl up with? Check. Christmas Presents? Check. Lessee, I got my father what he's been asking for since I was old enough for him to give me his Christmas wish list: And I think my mother will enjoy her bungalow by the stream: For my sister and he...

Nuthin' but E

You know how runners get a second wind after hitting the wall? A place where you just couldn’t possible go on – but then you do, and it’s all kind of ethereal and out-of-body and life is bunnies and kittens and Breyer’s M&M Ice Cream from then on? I don’t. I’m not a runner. But I’ve heard tales told, and suspect this is what’s happening to me at work. The troubles have become parodies of themselves, and I am left with laughter as my sole recourse. I can look colleagues in the eye, explain that no, I couldn’t get to project E, because I can’t stress enough how time consuming projects A, B, C and D were – and they’ll just briefly eyeball the projects that are sitting there completed, and say “So… you didn’t do project E?” So this month it’s all about project E. Nothing but E in April. And when they ask me why I didn’t get to A, B, C or D, I’ll look them straight in the eye and say “What do you mean? I thought we were in agreement that nothing counts but E. Curses!” Then they'll b...