February 20, 2010
Okay, I have been sucked into the Vancouver Games. Is it the drama? The angst? The lack of other ideas of what to do on a Friday night? Am I that pathetic? In a word, yep. I get that.
But the upside is that I have found my sport, or what might have been my sport in a more sporting time of life. I want to be a bobsled brakeman. I mean, what could be better? A brakeman has a limited job--perfect for me. He is required, first, to push the sled with manly vigor for a distance about the same as that of my chair to my fridge. At this event I am a past master, spotting record times long before the current competitors were born. (Without a sled, it's true, but carrying other substantial weight in front of me that needn't be discussed.) Next, he jumps into the moving sled like a man dodging creditors (no problem there) and his job after this is--get this--to STAY DOWN AND OUT OF SIGHT. In a word....._YES!!_ Here is an event finally tailored exactly to my skill set. Apparently, if a bobsled brakeman is even visible to the crowd, he is a failure. That's more or less the way I assess my life-performance every every day: was I under the radar? down in the sled? invisibly rocking the boat? (Apparently they do a weight shifting thing, but nobobdy talk about it much...)
At the end of the race, they put a brake on. I'd probably need to work on that.
Where are the next Winter Games? I am so ready...
The outfits, though. I'm okay with the helmets, but the spandex might pose a problem.
Back the Games. Curling is next. Like vacuuming on ice. I think there's a place for me there too...
