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| The Olympics: Page 2 |
| Let's get the racket sports out of the way first. Turns out we scored a gold medal in Men's doubles tennis in Sydney. Who knew? Way to go Nestor and�uh�.uh�.Nestor's Partner. Badminton really isn't our thing, let's face it, but ping-pong, ping-pong may be he most exciting sport of watch. Those guys are good, shit son, they stand about 45 feet away from the table and smash ball after ball with so much crazy spin on it even Forrest Gump would be shitting himself. But like Badminton, ping-pong really isn't our thing. Next we move on to basketball, now as a friend to the entire starting line-up of the St. Joe's basketball team, it was difficult not to watch basketball, and if you're going to be watching, playing and talking basketball nearly every waking moment, you've got to know your stuff. Basketball is an interesting Olympic sport. Ever since 1992 when professional basketball players were allowed to play for their respective national teams, the sport has emerged as perhaps the cream of the summer Olympic games crop. Ahh, the Dream Team. With names like Jordan, Bird, Magic Ewing and Isaiah who could stop them. What? Isaiah didn't make the team? What the F*$@ do you mean? Turns out MJ had a little distaste for Isaiah and his Pistons, so Mr. Thomas wasn't invited to Barcelona. But no matter, the team was stacked and there wasn't anyone that was going to stand in the way of a gold medal finish for the Americans. In a 32-point, gold medal final victory, over the Croatians (they're narrowest victory of the entire tournament), the dream team sealed their place in history as the best basketball team of all time. Since then the gap has narrowed considerably, between the Americans and other countries, but that's mostly because their best players are always getting married or just don't want to play for their country overseas, where they fear they'll be bombed quicker than this author on a Saturday night, alright mid-afternoon, there was a cubs game on. Olympic Basketball has provided some exciting moments, particularly the now infamous Vince Carter, "I'm about to get my crotch all up in your French grill" dunk over that 7' tall guy in 2000. This, along with the shot of Randy Johnson hitting a bird with a pitch still remain the only pieces of video footage I have on my computer that don't contain a naked woman, but even so I recommend you check them both out, even if you've seen them a million times before, cause they're pretty solid. Best I move on now, before I go crazy-war-time-hero on Vince and his sucking. The last of the great summer sports are swimming (yeah it's pretty solid), cycling (but only cause Kurt Harnett's legs are bigger then my waist) and rowing. Rowing is good because Canada is generally competitive and unlike this articles effect on you, it's quick enough for me not to get bored. But the swimming I actually do find quite fascinating, it's the drug-free version of the running events for track and field. By drug free I mean, not absolutely everyone is hopped up. Canada is rarely competitive but it's still pretty wicked, it's over quickly and it's usually close, so it's exciting. Plus there's generally a few World Record's broken which is for some reason exciting to watch. Also I get to hear the announcer repeatedly say the name Amy Van Dyken, which is for obvious reasons hilarious. Note to you parents out there, if you have a last name like Van Dyken or anything along those lines, do your kids a favour and DON"T HAVE KIDS. Save them the torment you endured at the hands of assholes like myself, who would laugh audibly every time your name was called out for attendance. Hehe, Van Dyken. I'm no Dutchmen, so I don't know for sure, but I'm kind of guessing that Van means "Son of" along the lines of Fitz, Mac, Mc and O'. Anyone who doesn't see "Son of Dyke" as being hilarious, likely stopped reading this article long ago, so I'm no longer worried about offending anyone. If you did stick around to see how this adventure ended, get out the scissors and scotch tape, cause its time to wrap this bitch up. One moment while I pat myself on the back for that one. We'll end with a look to the future, and I'll try to offend the six remaining people in this world I haven't already. So to recap, if you like watching, steroid enhanced monsters charging down a rubber track, pre-pubescent teens hopped up on crack being screamed at by some cold war reject and his hairy wife, a second rate American basketball team mop the floor with some European teams with one player you know and 11 others whose names you can't pronounce, men in tights, and hearing the American national anthem over and over again, then strap on your Barcelona '92 hat, buy a Canadian flag and come join me watch Canada's best athletes try and compete for 15 minutes of glory where they will be showered with praise, be interviewed on Mike Bullard and then likely have there medal stripped for using some recreational pot (way to go Ross!). And if that's no good, Paris will be here in a few days. Greg Bowden |