With horse wrap on my hurting foot, and it elevated over the back of the couch to keep it above my heart, I spent much of the weekend as a certified couch/armchair potato.
My choice of long weekend activities was not unique — any time the phone rang, or on the two occasions when we left the house — the topic was the same: “Are you watching the Olympics?”
“Absolutely,” we were able to reply, almost to the exclusion of any other programs on television or other events taking place around us.
For some reason, this Winter Olympics holds more interest for us than others from the past. Perhaps it is because of its location in Canada, in Vancouver, at some of the sights we saw briefly during our visit there for Expo 86.
It might be because my family has a tenuous connection with one of the men involved in the early days of the organization of the Olympics committee — Jack Poole. My parents were friends with his mother, and my siblings are of a similar age and knew him as they grew up.
Or perhaps, the interest is more intense this time because we are not in a hotel room in a strange city, catching snatches of the Games between convention meetings and meals. We were in Toronto and London, Ont., during the two previous Winter Olympics and it was difficult to get excited at seeing only partial events or taped versions when we already knew the outcome.
So the weekend just completed offered a chance to immerse ourselves in sporting activities that are not commonly seen in our community and in others for which we have some knowledge and previous involvement.
While some people are making fun of the glitch that delayed the lighting of the indoor cauldron, I am still impressed with the overall tone of the opening ceremonies, the coast-to-coast-coast imagery that introduced Canada to the world and the technology used to make it happen.
Our household members agree wholeheartedly with the choice of the Torch bearers indoors and with Wayne Gretzky being the choice to light the cauldron outdoors. We agree to disagree with anyone who thinks it should have been someone else.
And as a side note, I hope Nelly Furtado didn’t catch cold.
So on with the Games we went, snacks in hand, delivery at our fingertips — through women’s luge, men’s luge, some speedskating, some biathlon, snowboarding, a bit of figure skating, a women’s hockey game that wasn’t all that entertaining, the gold medal winner for Canada in the men’s freestyle skiing moguls and so on and so on and so on, even watching and learning from all the informative pre-packaged fillers produced by the television crews.
Commentators have been helpful in their explanations of the various sports and how to interpret what the judges look for, and how the athletes adapt and adjust.
Of particular interest was the medical information, complete with animation, on how much wear and tear the knees take in the moguls — similar to jumping off a two-storey building, twice. Ouch.
Listening to the number of injuries many of the athletes have sustained to various limbs and appendages, and seeing them back out there competing in their sport was enough to make my foot hurt even more. However, at the same time I was ashamed just a bit at how much flinching and whining I did over such a miniscule bit of discomfort.
I never said I was any kind of elite athlete with tolerance for considerable agony but I am happy to continue to sit back and watch as the Games continue for many more days, hoping the athletes can work through their own more serious pain.
Joyce Walter can be reached at 691-1259.
