On this, the last day of February, I feel I must post something. Because I’ve done a poor, poor job of staying up-to-date. It’s ironic, too, because it’s not as though I’ve been without goodness to post. Take the entire last two weeks of the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Games. My husband? Addicted.
I had an inkling that Husband would be taking in some Olympics coverage. After all, the event was being hosted in his homeland, and Canada was going to “Own the Podium,” yada, yada. I was less aware of just how into watching the Olympics he would be.
VERY, it turned out. You name the Olympic sport, and Husband watched it. On every channel possible. And then told me about it.
Alpine skiing? Check. Biathlon? Check. Ski cross? Check. Snowboarding? Check. Snowboard cross? Check. Nordic? Check. Nordic combined? Check. Team pursuit? Check. Short track? Check. Freestyle skiing? Check. Luge? Check. Ski jumping? Check. Speedskating? Check. Curling? Check. Ice hockey? Check, check and check!
From the onset, no event was to be missed. Which was most unfortunate considering we planned a wee bit of a trip, which fell the entire last week of the Olympics. OK, so, I planned the trip without consulting the Olympics schedule.
No worries. Surely, there would be Olympics coverage on the boat (big boat, Royal Caribbean), a giant cruise liner travelling in international waters. There’s coverage somewhere. On one of the television channels. Right?
No. No coverage. Only sporadic mentions of something called the Olympics being hosted in some faraway place called Vancouver. And Harry Potter and Up! in five different languages. Shoot. We’d left our laptop behind, which was fine as wireless access was only available for a fee. Surely we don’t need to pay to check the medal standings on our cell phone, do we?
No, we do not need to do that, because we can stand discretely in front of hotels and restaurants and small shops in Key West and Cozumel and attempt to catch a free wireless signal. Because we have to know who is leading the medal count and where exactly Canada stands and which Canadians remain in all of the events. By the way, thank you, Patty in Key West, for letting us watch NBC while we grabbed a bite to eat at your local dive.
For five nights, we were only semiconscious of the Olympics, and boy was it tough! Tougher for Husband. Make that far tougher for Husband. Upon returning to Tampa and checking into our hotel, his first order of business was to check the available television stations. Please let there be CNBC, please let there be CNBC, please let there be CNBC because we CANNOT miss the women’s curling final. Or the men’s curling final. Or any of the hockey games. Or any more Olympics coverage.
Thankfully for him (and for me), we had all the right stations. And we were able to watch all the right events. And when we weren’t watching events, we could check out the medal standings on our cell phone for free.
What we were less clear about was whether we’d be back on our own sofa in time to watch the puck drop for the U.S.-Canada men’s hockey final. Because, of course, I scheduled a return flight without consulting the schedule. It was going to be close. Our flight into Buffalo would arrive at 1:30 p.m. The game started at 3 p.m. We had to conquer the border and drive a bit more than an hour. Thank goodness for The Fan 590 and its pre-game show (“So, tell me, Sidney Crosby, what would it be like to win a gold medal? Is it a different feeling to win a gold medal on Canadian soil versus U.S. soil? What do you think your reaction will be to winning? Tell me, Coach, what’s it like for you to think about winning a gold medal?” Riv. Et. Ing.).
Anyway, long story made much shorter: We made it home. Husband watched the hockey game. I unpacked. He sweated. I planned out some meals for the week. He leaned forward in suspense. I went grocery shopping. He texted me goals. I unpacked all the groceries. He cheered. I packed his lunches for the week. He jumped up and down. I shook my head. He begged me to sit with him and watch. I resisted. He turned up the volume so that I could hear all the action. I shook my head and sighed. Loudly. Canada won. I heard “In your face!” from the living room. And, I was urged to come watch replays. I heard “Oh, Canada” being sung aloud from the television and the sofa. I rejoiced (secretly) just a little, knowing that this event would be the event to end the event that had captivated Husband for two weeks.
Hooray! Congratulations to Husband who deserves a gold medal for all of the Olympics he watched. And, congratulations, Canada. You may not have entirely owned the podium, but you did win some golds. A lot of golds actually.
Golds that Husband keeps reminding me about.