Olympics, Part II

Since I have so much time on my hands I’ve decided it would be good to use it for, say, practical studies of the human condition rather than hunting for jobs on Monster.com or letting my computer beat me at chess.

I’ve used some of this time, while watching the Olympics, to monitor among other things, something evolving in our broadcast language, perhaps a generational shift, perhaps one of those inevitable “passing of the torch” moments (no pun intended).

Has anyone else noticed that, according to the broadcasters, the athletes no longer are in medal contention, but they have a chance to “podium,” instead? When exactly did “podium” become a verb? Think of all the little boys and girls leaping about their living rooms not hoping to win at the Olympics one day but just getting a chance to podium! It sounds like a remedy for an embarrassing foot condition.

And there’s a definite snobbery rift between the skiers and the snowboarders. It can’t be generational, because they all seem to be about fifteen years old, but I watched one female skier leave the gate wearing a tiara, the next wore a double-strand of pearls and oh, the commentators were all over them. It’s unprofessional, they said. How could they, Elfie Schlegel said. Yet the half-pipers and snowboard crossers (damn, that’s a cool sport.) come out looking like gang members and they’re “individualists,” or have “flair.”

Another thing that fascinates me is noting how many expressions Scott Hamilton and Dick Button can come up with to mean that an ice-skater’s program sucks. “Oh, he’s losing his steam,” “Oh, he looks tired,” “Oh, he didn’t bring his game tonight,” “Well, at least he wasn’t expected to podium.” Why can’t they just shut up and leave the guy alone while he’s falling on his ass and two-footing his landings? And even more humiliating is the camera shot while he or she is waiting for the score, close up on the tears, the condition of the pores, how well the woman’s eyeliner has made it through the long program?

No wonder most of the country is watching “American Idol” instead.

Although I’m finding curling to be curiously compelling. You know how in the news specific things get certain modifiers attached to their names that forever stick, like “the breakaway Republic of Chechnya,” or “conservative talk show host Rush Limbaugh?” Husband and I have started our own: “the curiously compelling sport of curling.” It’s what they broadcast all afternoon on CNBC that looks like a giant game of shuffleboard on ice. With intense concentration, one team member launches a stone (it’s a loaf-sized rock with a handle on it that looks like an iron that might have been used by Betty Rubble) toward the target area while two other team members furiously scrub at the ice with rubber brooms to control the movement of the stone. I think the object is to knock the other guy’s stone out of the ring, but I’m not sure. I don’t get the rules, but just the fact of it fascinates me. How did this get to the Olympics? It seems like more of a game than a sport, something like bocce, where a bunch of guys get together on a Sunday afternoon to get away from the woman and drink. (Don’t be surprised if one day bocce makes it to the summer games, along with lawn darts, and maybe if we’re really lucky, quarters. At last, a podium-level sport we can also play at home!)

And hockey…now, I’m a baseball girl. I was weaned on Yankee games, played catch in the backyard, and in a 12-year-old’s act of rebelliousness, became a Met fan, where I’ve stuck (unfortunately) ever since. Football is becoming a close second. I’m mildly interested in basketball, but not so much since leaving Boston and the land of the Celtics. But hockey? I never had much use for it. The puck moved too fast, as did the commentary, and I never knew what was going on. Olympic hockey somehow is different. Maybe because the rink is smaller. Maybe because they don’t have that stupid orange blaze that shows where the puck is supposed to be, maybe because there are no grudges built up to cause the guys to beat each other’s brains in because half the guys in the NFL are fanned out participating in their country’s own teams. Anyway, it’s simple, moves fast but not too fast, and is more fun to watch.

Even if “our” guys never get a chance to podium, it’s still entertaining sportsmanship.

And isn’t that what it’s really all about?