KEEPING A STEADY HEAD

The men’s figure skating short program was on the Winter Olympics TV menu last night, so I had to be there to judge and cheer them along. I’ve tried ice skating before, and it’s not that easy just to stand up and lollygag around the rink, let alone do leaps and spins, so I admire their grace and athleticism. I consider myself somewhat of an armchair expert. After all, I know the difference between a flying camel and a triple lutz.

When watching the guys last night, I joined commentator and former Olympic gold medalist Scott Hamilton in jumping for joy for the elements that were “nailed,” as Scott would say, or groaning in sadness when there was a miss.

There was one skater, I think he was Swiss, who wasn’t so hot at jumping but he could spin faster than a top on speed. He was crazy. At one point I thought flames were going to shoot out of his skates and he’d blast right out of the arena. How he could come out of those spins and continue skating was beyond me. I would have been in another time dimension flat on my dizzy, whiplashed face. “Wow! Oh, my god! This guy can move!”

Big Bore, who was in the adjoining room piddling on the computer, heard the commotion.

“Are you having an orgasm in there?” he asked, knowing full well I was watching the Olympics.

“This guy is the best sit spinner I’ve ever seen!”

“Well, calm down. You sound like you’re watching a Kansas-Missouri basketball game.”

True. But I get so excited when they do well. This is the Olympics, after all, and I want everyone to do his best. They’ve all been training for four long years to reach this point, so I don’t want to see some poor schmuck pop out of a triple axle and have his dream go kaput in a split second. I suppose that’s why it’s called, “The Agony of Defeat,” though.

The men’s long program finals will be televised on Thursday night. Look for that spinning whiz--his name is Stephane something--but keep a few tabs of meclizine nearby.