Not Even as Worthy as Hula-Hooping

When the Russian guy landed his quad in figure skating, but got only silver, he complained to his country's press that if the champion of a sport doesn't do a quad--e.g. doesn't advance the sport with a greater physical feat than ever before--then "we're just dancing."

And, uh, "dancing" isn't, you know, a real Olympic sport.

Cheers to you, Plushenko. You've put into a nutshell just why figure skating is a competitive sport, even though it's not a race and cannot be objectively measured, try though they may.

Figure skating is an athletic performance than can be demonstrably improved upon, so it can be a competitive sport. These aren't the only conditions that a sport must meet to be worthy of Olympics, but they are necessary.

So what's with ice dancing? Yes, it's an athletic performance. But notice how the announcers didn't say anything like, "This couple will attempt a triple-flip-throw-toe-loop-axle-angle for the first time in world competition history."

What would "advancement" in this sport look like?

Let's be honest: it's in the Olympics only because it's good for TV ratings. And I was among the masses to watch it. (But I blame Gemma's enthusiasm for this.)

So, about what I saw.

1. How cute that the Americans were neighborhood buddies who've skated together all their lives. Why didn't Jeff Doll and I ever pursue ice dancing together?

2. Three events? Are you kidding me?

3. The Russians and their "aboriginal" number. Oh, my. . . The event was to interpret a piece of ethnic music, and this couple chose a. . . "native" sounding song. They dressed in tan body stockings marked with white "native" paint, and covered their private parts with green leaves.

Then they skated with moves that, if translated into words, would read, roughly, "Ooga Booga!"

I was uncomfortable watching it. This is the generation I am part of in America. On a deep, deep level, I sense the insult and the mockery. Doesn't matter that I'm not "aboriginal." Doesn't matter that their intent was to entertain. My base reaction was singular. I was horrified.

The announcers on one hand steered way clear of saying what I've just said. But they're American. They have this cultural standard woven into them just as I do. What did they say? They struggled to say anything, and came up with, "This dance just wasn't that technically challenging."

Back in Russia, the public was like, "What? What's the problem?" And the skaters themselves were like, "So. . .what if we took a little of the body paint off? Would that help? Because we don't really see the problem here, but if there's something we can do to make you Westerners and Western judges a little less horrified, we'll do it. . ."

All of which is to say: Interesting that Russia doesn't have a line in their culture that they're not to cross, as we do here.

A friend remarked that this may because they don't have aboriginal people.

To which I remarked, "Well, not after the 20th century, anyway."

And maybe part of the puzzle here is that after a people has lived through the horrors that civilization has wrought (upon itself), a little jungle dance really is entertaining and those like me who are "horrified," should take a second look at their history.

As for the dance itself, and what I thought of it. Well. It was dancing on ice. And that shouldn't be an Olympic sport.

Thursday Pink!

I still don't have a good title for this feature. And you all have been of no help to me in this.

But as for submissions. . .

Adriann sent an emblem from Facebook, a ribbon on top of a heart. So, pink has gotten to Facebook, too. No surprise of course. But this saves me the trouble of actually joining Facebook to find out for myself.

Today's winner, however, is Amanda, who sent links united by a theme. Congratulations to Amanda and Brad, by the way, on their beautiful new boy, William. Will he be called Billy Bridges? Love it. This is an Air Force family that also moved across the country from NJ to Washington, and managed to send out birth announcements.

And find a pink link for me. . . OH! That's IT! "THURSDAY'S PINK LINK!"--Love it!

The point being that this is a woman with her hands full who still came up with some good ones. Great effort, Amanda. Much, much appreciated.

And now, for the day's Pink Link:

What is the point of this or this or this?

Do you use them and say, "I am aware that she is bald, but I look pretty damn terrific!"?

Figure Skating: How Do They Figure?

I miss the old days.

Days when figure skaters got a row of scores, nothing higher than a 6. Why 6? This didn't correlate to anything in my life. A 5, yes, because that made it an A through F. But 6?

It was mysterious. And yet easy to understand. 5.9 meant the guy rocked. 5.3 meant he fell once. 5.7 meant it was good enough, but not great. This, anyway, is what the announcers helped us to understand.

I miss how each score had the judge's country above it. I miss how the crowd would boo when the Russian judge gave the American a 5.6 when all the others gave a 5.9. At the time, I was booing, too. Now, I know more, and I'd have thought, "Hey! That woman will be thrown into the gulag if she gives any higher!"

But there's no opportunity for this anymore, because there's no way of knowing how the judges arrive at that massive number. What does it go up to? Like, 220?? And NBC puts up a helpful little rubric that explains that anything over 170 is "superb."

I don't care what the numbers mean, NBC. I want to know which country's judge is screwing which country's athletes!

And what's this "personal best" or "season's record high score" nonsense? Are we supposed to forget that this is a subjective sport? All the instant replay in the world cannot make figure skating into a science.

I miss the days when the figure skating world gave the rest of the Olympic Village the finger, saying, "We may just barely be a sport, but we're the ones who get the air time, and then the sponsorships, and then the role of whichever hero Disney is casting in its latest ice show."

Instead, they've left this territory to the ice dancers, upon whom I shall comment on Friday.

The Olympics: Short Remarks on Short Track

1. To watch it: pure exhilaration. Where has this sport been hiding? The last time I was jumping up and down, shouting at a television, the Bulls were in a championship game.



2. I'm not the only one who's made a recent discovery of it. How else can we explain the Chinese? The first time a Chinese athlete ever won gold in a winter event of any kind was when a female short track skater took it in Salt Lake City. Only 8 years ago!



This year, Chinese women won gold in all four events. Bam! (Of course, they only got it in the relay because the officials biffed a call that disqualified the South Koreans.)



My question: This is a sport designed for little people. Chinese are little. And they've had the example of South Korea, which has been a powerhouse forever. What took you guys so long to go short?



2B. And why do Chinese men suck at short track?



3. As I say: it's a thrill to watch. So why were there so many empty seats in that stadium?



4. Let's talk uniforms. The US skate team wore, um, let's see here. . .light blue tunics with dark blue legs and arms.



Light blue? What the heck?



5. As for our boy, Apollo Anton Ohno. I'm glad to see a competitor like him do so well. He seems humble enough. Grateful enough. When he gets near a microphone, the overwhelming and solitary impression he makes is that he loves his sport.



His Dad is a cutie.



And watching Ohno skate is like it was to watch Jordan. You know he's going to pull off a winning move under pressure, and you know it's going to be beautiful.



6. But every time Ohno's face showed up on camera--and it was a lot--I would think, "He reminds me of someone. . ." and I'd suffer that nagging feeling of not knowing who. A former student? Someone I went to school with? Who?



The last night, aha!, I put my finger on it: Apollo Ohno bears a striking resemblance to my nephew, Joe. Seriously. If the former didn't have that soul patch going on his chin, the two could be cousins.



Which is odd, given that my nephew has no Asian blood in him. . .

The Olympics: Opening Commentaries

I watched. And I took notes.


Today I present a comments about the Olympics in general.

1. The last winter Olympics I paid attention to were the ones where Bryan Boitano won gold in figure skating. That was, what? '88?

I only watched them this time because of this kids. We went out and got the digital TV converter and antennae just so Gemma and Josh could enjoy them. And they did. We all did.

2. But I didn't enjoy the same sports I remember liking back in 1988. The Olympics. . . just one more thing to lose its luster with age.

2B. Nor did I ever realize how insanely dangerous the Olympic games are. Human bodies, hurling themselves down mountains in a variety of ways. 2 weeks of it. Crazy.

3. The "proud Olympic sponsors" cracked me up. After McDonald's commercials, I'd scoff. Gemma would ask why. I'd tell her, "Because Olympic athletes don't eat McDonald's food."

4. Except for Steve Holcomb, perhaps. The first American to win Bobsled gold. He was also, probably, the tubbiest gold medalist in Vancouver.

Hey. More power to him. And to squeeze himself into that sausage casing/bobsledding onesie took real courage.

5. How did they decide winners of Olympic events before the age of digital timers? When most of the races were decided by tenths of a second--sometimes even hundredths--I marvelled. To time that now, no sweat. How did they do it a hundred years ago?

6. The kids could not watch any sport and remain seated at the same time. They kept getting up and spinning around in our family room, or leaping off of things, or wrestling each other. Their bodies seemed to be inspired by the idea that motion could be harnessed to accomplish greatness.

And when we went sledding on a gorgeous Colorado day with temps in the 50's and a hill full of snow, Gemma shouted, "I'm going to ride this like a bobsled!"--though it was Josh who was the first to master the run and jump and keep sliding form. It look a lot more like skeleton, actually. . .

7. Skeleton? See what I mean? These games are crazy!

8. I enjoyed Bob Costas. He did a great job interviewing the athletes, though he didn't do anyone tough. An interview with Plushenko, the Russian who landed a quad in figure skating, won silver, then whined to the Russian press that he should have won gold because the guy who didn't hadn't done a quad. That's the kind of guy I want to see interviewed.

But I have plenty more comments to offer on the stuff that did actually happen. You can look forward to a few days of them. Because this is what a post-cancer life looks like, friends. These are the things I have the energy to think about now.