Slip Slidin' Away

Anonymous

Well I've finally fought my way out of a Winter Olympic induced coma. Whew. That was a close call. I may never watch TV again. Now God forbid I disparage this once every four year spectacle of grace and beauty but aren't the Winter Olympics really about a bunch of white people sliding down, across, or around something Danny - Figure Skater on ice and snow? I know the basic premise comes down to one thing, just like life don't fall on your ass, but I think they're running out of ideas to test this premise. They should have stopped long before they invented curling. But more on that later.

I heard the word artistry used to describe one of the myriad of events and I concur, the Games are like art. Abstract art. You know how you're just walking along not bothering anybody and all of a sudden your wife drags you kicking and screaming into some fancy gallery? While she clucks over a painting of a vase of yellow flowers you wander around hoping to spot a picture of a naked woman. A nude in high brow parlance. During your search for the perfect art form you come across some limp-wrister cooing over something that hurts your eyes.

"Oooh, just look at the light and texture." He lisps. "It's fabulous. Don't you think?"

"It looks like it was painted by a drunk monkey." You answer. Even confused people need honesty.

He takes in your favorite flannel shirt and best blue jeans, turns up his nose, and sashays away, wiping a tear. That's cross-country-nordic-combined- ski-slalom-double-flying-camel to me. I'm sure an elitist few understand all this but normal people just stand there scratching their heads going "What the Hell?"

It all made a little more sense to me when I read that the target viewing audience for the Winter Games are middle-age women. I have nothing against middle-age women, they can cook and clean with the best of gals as far as I'm concerned, but I don't want them picking my sports for me. I know there's the TV remote that seldom leaves my hand but Hell the Olympics are on 4 or 32 channels for at least 47 hours a day so the odds were good that I would fall victim to them eventually. The old car wreck analogy comes to mind, it's just too terrible to look away. But I'm a fair, open-minded. sophisticate type, so I decided to give these Olympics a shot. It's not like I have to put up with them every year like I do my mother-in-law.

I started with the woman's downhill skiing hoping to see another shot of Lindsay Vonn in a bikini or at least see some girl form the Czech Republic named Thule go ass over earlobe, land in a snowy heap and scream for her momma. Didn't happen near enough. I switched the channel and watched Forrest Gump again. He reminds me so much of buddy Steve.

The next day I settled in to watch all I could. This is how much I hate myself sometimes. There was ski jumping. Okay let's strap a couple of boards to some fool's feet, slide him down an icy ramp ten stories high, fly him through the air for close to two miles and then deduct points because he wobbled a little on his landing. Huh? They should give him a medal for retaining his anus. Then came the figure-skating, skinny-ankled girls sliding across a surface I can't even walk on. They twist a spin through the air and land on these narrow blades managing to hold on to their panties and their smiles. Then the announcer says something like, "She only blinked once there, she was supposed to blink twice. There's going to be a deduction." People throw flowers. Everybody cries. Middle-age women everywhere burn supper.

The biathalon. They carry rifles. Until they put the guns down these are the greatest athletes in the world as far as I'm concerned. The four-man bobsled is a hoot. Grown men, mind you, clad in full-body spandex the guy at the art gallery would love, push a sled as hard as they can, scream like banshees, and jump in whereupon three of them bury their heads like gophers. The only one who actually sees anything is the driver. The rest of them can only tell you what the course felt like, or smelt like. "Ya, ya, de course vas very fas I feel. But I do vish Gunther had a not eat da weinerscnitzle for da lunch." I guess some of those curves are exhilirating.

But the best "sport" of all is an activity called curling. Has there ever been a bigger joke to tumble down the steps of Mount Olympus and splat in our living rooms than curling? It's like watching a state road crew repair a hole. A lot of people standing around with occasional almost indiscernible movement. I know if I was one of the downhill skiers being airlifted off the side of a mountain with a fibula sticking through the roof of my mouth I'd be pretty pissed about some soccer mom getting a gold medal for sliding a rock across the ice. Indoors. And they have timeouts! That's like resting up for your nap. They could be discussing strategy. "Okay Agnes you sweep to the right and Dolores you sweep to the left." A "sport" that uses brooms. I'm almost positive this is the only time these women have ever touched a broom other than the ones they flew in on. To be fair there were a couple of hotties on the Japanese and Russian teams but I didn't see a even a bronze medal among the American women. My patriotism ends at the waist.

I think the people who enjoy watching curling are the same people who like watching fishing on TV or poker. If you're sitting on the couch with a beer in one hand and your fist buried in a bag of Cheetos watching someone do less than you are, you can officially go ahead donate your brain to science. Maybe someone who is still glad they voted for Obama could use it. It is no longer needed by you. But there is one thing I gained from watching curling, it makes baseball look exciting now, and soccer. Nah, I'm just kidding. It'd take more than curling. I realize the Winter Games are much too sophisticated for me but one thing I don't understand is how that comedian, Carrot Top, got so good at snowboarding. It must be art.

Comments (2)

|174.111.85.xxx |2010-03-17 20:16:35 Anonymous

Better watch the mother-in-law jokes. She reads the website! Love the curling. It's like whatching ice melt. Keep them coming!
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