Olympic sized thoughts

(These aren’t really Olympic sized thoughts–just small thoughts on the Olympics.)

 

It was nice that benevolent dictator Kim Jong-un let his cheerleaders out of the country to attend the Olympics, along with his sister. Isn’t he a good guy? Hopefully they had a chance to grab a nice meal–or any meal–before heading back up to the Dark Country. (Literally dark, take a look at a nighttime satellite view.)

Cheer … or die.

Probably the only downhill sport I’d have a chance of making it through would be sledding, otherwise known as luge or skeleton. That’s because I’m incapable of standing on any moving object other than my own feet, and sometimes the feet part isn’t easy.

But while I used to sled a lot, that was at, oh, ten miles per hour or so. Anyone who goes face first at seventy miles per hour … well, there’s a reason why it’s called skeleton. Because “mangled body” seemed a little too obvious.

There is another kind of sledding in the Olympics, but apparently competitors are required to be named “Bob”. There’s only so much I’ll do for my sport.

Speaking of sports in which I’d never made it to the end of the course, I’ve noticed that downhill skiiers seem to be flying as much as they’re skiing. Let’s make it more interesting and fit them with small wings, just to see what happens.

I don’t know this guy, but I’m very happy for his survival.

 

There’s a skiing event that consists entirely of skiing down bumps. I can’t stand to watch it: It kills my knees.

“Salchow” is pronounced “sow cow” … and as such, just doesn’t seem like a figure skating move.

That group snowboarding competition … did some Olympic official happen to catch a NASCAR race and think, “That’s what the winter Games needs: massive pileups!”

Figure skating has been a favorite of mine since I was a kid. But I’ll be the first to admit that back then I was all about the ladies and the short skirts. Now that I’m older I’m still fascinated, because how the heck do they even–? I mean, try just standing on ice skates. Their routines are, according to the laws of physics, as impossible as me making it to the other end of the rink.

I never tried pairs figure skating because I don’t like getting stitches.

It’s a magic trick–try to disconnect the rings! Nice try.

I just watched a pair figure skate to music from Star Wars, and it made me realize Jedi would be fantastic athletes. Luke skiing, Anakin throwing Padme through about fifty spins on the ice, Vader as a bad boy snowboarder … Yoda as a coach. Emperor Palpatine ruling the evil land just to the north. R2D2 as a judge. I’ve just created a whole new subgenre of fanfiction.

Curling. It’s indecipherable, and a joy to make fun of. Unless you seriously watch it for about an hour, then it becomes addictive to 80% of the viewers. What dark magic is that? It’s shuffleboard on ice. And I’m watching it.

Every time I watch ski jumping, all I can think of it the Wide World Of Sport’s “agony of defeat”. This removes much of the fun for me:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2AZH4FeGsc

In the end I’m not a sport fan so much as an events fan: Every two years I watch sports that I don’t even think about the rest of the time. It’s the same reason why I like to watch the Indy 500 even though I have no interest in racing, and I used to watch the Superbowl even though I haven’t seen a non-Superbowl football game in twenty years. I’ve even caught a World Series game, or two.

But not basketball. For me, basketball is the rap of sports: to be shunned.

Decatha–what?