Excerpts from the Peanut Gallery

The Olympics- Everybody’s a critic!

The following post is sincere in being light-hearted and positive. I am really proud of our best:

Welp, I admit, I didn’t think I’d weigh in on the Olympics, but seeing as there is little else to discuss in the final languid days of summer, and there is nothing else on TV except for Reba re-runs, I suppose I oughta get cracking, at least weigh in, put in my two cents- which is not worth much, considering I am not much of a sports spectator. The only sport upon which I can hold a decent conversation is Hockey, due largely in part to my years in a job where I was required on occasion to work graveyards, during which excess down time between completing office duties and the remaining 7.4 hours left in the shift allowed me sufficient time to read the entire newspaper (a feat few of us often do) sparing not even the sports section as I generally would but limiting myself to the hockey stats only to save myself from the depths of insanity. From this point on, if it doesn’t involve Luongo, Alfredsson or pondering the deeper-rooted questions such as “Can they even grow ice in Tampa Bay?” I am quite limited.

Ne’ertheless, I trod with fear and trembling into the world of summer games. I shamefacedly admit that despite being a student of International Affairs, I lack the basic knowledge of the Cuban judo; am ignorant that the Slovaks are formidable kayakers and am only now realising that Armenians are the juggernauts of Greco-roman style wrestling.

Yet the question everyone is wondering is, of course, “have we gotten anything yet?” I see that this is a valid interest, but am still stuck on researching the origins of kayaking, following up on some leads which I believe will blow some tightly held national sport security secrets ‘out of the water’ so to speak: “Wait a second! Didn’t the kayak originate in Nunavut? I mean, we should be good at that, right?”

And I am sure we are. The Canadians who competed in kayaking were probably very pleased- they did their personal best, and they are looking forward to the next Olympics where they can do even better. They probably set a Canadian record even. They are very proud. We are very proud. They paddled their heart out and it was a good day. Congratulations to the Slovaks.

You know at first, I was a bit abysmal about the fact that our best just doesn’t seem to be quite good enough. But there are so many issues pulling here: On the one hand, our kids get chubbs cuz we don’t invest enough in physical education. On the other, do we prefer to invest in athletes or health care? Aren’t they closely related (preventative vs. reactionary treatment some might say)? And where are those big bad corporations- shouldn’t they be trying to prove that they are not out to rape and pillage the world by sponsoring these l’il guys? But do we really want our athletes selling out to the man? It seems a loose-loose sitch.

But I have had some food for thought. It has been drawn to my attention that the first things our athletes say when they come fourth or fifth or fifteenth is how pleased they are with how things went, then I say we should be proud along with them. Minutes after finishing their bit, cameras are pushed in their face, while they try and de-sweatify themselves. The world waits, hanging on their every word. It can be hard to do that with grace and ease, especially if you are secretly disappointed that the Chinese girl who is and always will be skinnier than you just beatcho’ass. If the only competition we win is that we are the nicest losers, then that’s a damn good medal in my estimation. We don’t gotta be number one, we are small but proud country. We are peace-loving, and moderate. So you didn’t get the gold- you did well and Tim Bits are on me, kid.

This all intertwines with some things I have been challenged on personally: namely that it is really easy to be critical and cynical and confuse that for high-brow intellectual discussion. Its not, and if it is, then I would rather be content and stupid than smart and cocky. Thus, therefore and thereby, to the Canadian athletes with the stiff upper lip, at the risk of being a cheese ball, I will cough in a manly way, give them a figurative slap on the butt and say, ‘well done slugger,’ for being so bright when the light is on them.

posted by Kiki @ 5:41 p.m.