Knowing that what I’m about to say may offend, alienate and ostracize my likely diminishing readership is not easy. However, I feel compelled, week after week to lay it out there for all to divulge, scrutinize and mock.
I love the Olympics.
Mock away.
I’m not exactly sure why I find myself so captivated by what I’m estimating is already over 40 hours consumed. I just know that NBC’s parade of networks could probably dress up an exercise equipment infomercial with Olympic uniforms or personnel at this point and I would be enthralled.
With bleary eyes Saturday night I watched a handful of what looked like Bam Bam Bigelow’s sisters paraded out to center stage in a power lifting competition. Earlier in the week I was calling friends begging them to join me in my impromptu badminton appreciation session. Monday night I actually offered analysis to my roommate during the highly anticipated trampoline finals.
I found affirmation last week when I headed to a nearby pub and found the women’s all around gymnastics finals on the main TV while the late innings of a Cards game played out on the side screens.
Ok, I made that last part up, but you get the gist.
The games of the 29th Summer Olympiad arrived last week and offered some, if not all, a welcome breather from what is traditionally a stagnant part of the season. Those teams gearing up for October baseball have made their mid-season moves, those teams more focused on season ticket holder renewal gifts have made theirs and teams like ours have once again put the fate of our season in a team of doctors whose fanny pack wearing rivals that of our father’s at Six Flags when we were kids.
We all know that without Carp and Waino, this team will fight to stay above .500 for the season during the last six weeks. However, with the addition of these two, in the words of (fittingly) The Carpenters, ‘we’ve only just begun to live.’
So while we all continue to eye the standings, the other wild card candidate’s remaining schedules and the continuously inaccurate status reports of our two beloved right handers, I see no harm in diverting my attention to synchronized diving, rhythmic gymnastics and to snatch, even the power lifting variety.
After all, following a team day-in, day-out is certainly a far cry from viewing from afar a sporting extravaganza taking place more sporadic. It’s why the World Cup is popular to even those of us with no limited soccer knowledge, why the Ryder Cup catches our eye and why many more watch NFL Live on in March.
Suffice it to say, Cardinals baseball would look a whole lot different if we hadn’t seen our boys since 2004. Back then, Pujols had hair, Rolen had healthy legs and Jason Marquis had control over his fast ball. Roger Clemens’ name was gold, the Red Sox were somewhat likable and we were more than comfortable starting a postseason series with Woody Williams on the mound.
Present day, the similarities between La Russa and gymnastic guru Bela Karolyi come into focus. Both come into the 2008 season with the same haircut they displayed in 1984, both still awkward with the media and both having an unexplainable loyalty to veterans or in Bela’s case, ‘legals.’
The broadcast, however, may sound a bit different as we now rejoin our team after a four year hiatus. On the call, of course is Al Trautwig.
‘Welcome once again to a tense and anxious Busch Stadium. In mere moments tonight we will find out if the Cardinals will finally realize the dream they’ve chased since they were little boys. The stage is set and I have to tell you, Elfi Shlegel, at this point, it’s anyone’s game.’
‘You hit the nail on the head, Al. These competitors, once again assembled under the stoic LaRussa, have persevered after four winters of pain, sacrifice and countless hours away from their families to see if they can exorcise the demons and their silver medals from 2004. What fans need to be reminded of is that this team has never before competed in front of such an audience. These kids have to be thrilled to even be here as a city looks on and hangs on every pitch. Al, lets just hope the judges don’t totally fuck this up and somehow give the gold to an undeserving group of ass clowns like they did at the games in ’85.’
‘Amen Elfi, well said.’
Yeah, maybe it is a good thing we didn’t have to wait four years. I’ll take the clydesdales circling the warning track over that opening ceremony Cirque Du Soleil operation any day.
J Carnage is ashamed it took 22 columns to incorporate Carpenters lyrics to this column. Contact him at JCarnage24@yahoo.com anytime if you need a cure from Rainy Days and Mondays.