I love watching the Summer Olympics.
There
is something so exhilarating about watching
highly motivated,
perfectly
sculpted bodied athletes
from your couch ...
while digging into a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie.
My two favorite events to watch during the
Summer Olympics are
swimming and gymnastics...
although last weekend I got dragged into both the
men and women’s bike road race.
(Note to
self: next Olympics watch
only the last 3K...
that’s when all the action happens.)
(Thanks to those cyclists who crashed.
It added some much need drama during the middle K's.)
The Olympics is a wonderful opportunity to
showcase sports
that don’t normally get attention.
It puts limelight on lesser known sports such as
archery,
fencing, and water polo...
sports that might not otherwise be watched by the
public.
(Note to water polo athletes:
get rid of the bonnet/swim caps...
.
you look like Baby Huey.)
I admit I was unhappy when they discontinued chariot
racing from the Olympics.
It has been a while since I've seen good, competitive
chariot racing.
I would venture to say many, many men
love watching women’s beach volleyball.
They especially dig their team uniforms.
(Unfortunately...with the rainy/chilly London
weather,
many guys have felt cheated out of the full viewing experience.)
Anywhooo...
PaulA has gotten into the Olympic
spirit.
He put a volleyball net up on the beach...
probably thinking he could get the women to wear the
Team USA suit.
We’ve had some rousing volleys and
have only bent the rules slightly...
New rule #1...You can hit the ball
as many times on your side as needed to get it over the net.
Head butts – allowed.
Kicks – allowed..
New rule #2...the “out” lines are determined...
as we play. Hard-to-get shots are deemed "out."
Playing beach volleyball may look easy
to the casually observer,
but I can tell you from experience...it isn’t.
I have succumbed,
like every great
athlete,
to a sports injury.
In a heroic game-saving attempt...I was
injured while diving for the ball.
(Okay, maybe I was running for the ball to
save it from landing in the water. )
Being
the Mic Ultra jock that I am...
I hauled ass after the ball...
running over rocks, shells, and hot coals
when I cut/banged my toe on a rock.
Only to be beaten to it, by my 9
year old niece...
(There is always a young volleyball
jock running up your heels ...
going after the kill...hoping to bump you off.)
I’ve been accused of nursing my sports
injury
like some big baby...
Maybe so...
but at least I'm not
wearing a Baby
Huey
