Aren't the Olympics supposed to be uplifting and affirming? Aren't the nations of the world supposed to come together in the spirit of sportsmanship and athleticism? While that may be the goal, I can tell you I'm much less focused on global hand-holding than I am on my skyrocketing blood pressure.
TOP FIVE FEELINGS I'M HAVING WHILE WATCHING THE SOCHI OLYMPICS
1. Confusion. Perhaps the most benign feeling on this list, but remarkable all the same, is complete confusion. The commentators narrate the event as if I know what's happening. Take curling. You should be starting with a "What is the object of this event" introduction, or perhaps "What led humans to do this in the first place." Next, you might tell me what are the relevant skills that make one good at curling. Trust me, I can't tell by watching.
Furthermore, how does scoring work? I was watching ice dancing and, as a newbie to this delightful, majestic sport, I can confidently say that everyone's performance looks stunning to me, and I have absolutely no way of ranking any performance against another. Rather than assigning a numerical value while zooming in on the competitor's face, please explain to me what is the denominator. 30 seems like a great score, but it may be decidedly less so if it is out of, say, 618.
2. Self loathing. This one is obvious. You're watching cross country skiers gallop up a formidable hill with ease, and you're thinking back to that time two weeks ago when you had to take a break during your half-mile walk to work. You soothe yourself by spooning another quarter cup of cookie dough into your mouth.You never wanted to be an Olympian, anyway.
3. Extreme overconfidence. On the other end of the spectrum, these sort of events can also inspire a general cockiness which you have no right to feel. What makes you convinced you're an undiscovered natural at the ice luge? Do you have so little respect for the men and women who have dedicated a decade of their life to perfecting their sport? Yes, because THEY'RE JUST LYING THERE. (I stand to be corrected, but please refer to number 1 to understand why this will never happen.)
4. Maternal instincts. I have a lot of feeling for the young, teenage athletes who practice long hours after their school days, hoping to make the Olympic Team. My maternal instincts go into overdrive when they look incredibly young, like this Russian free skater, Julia Lipnitskaia, who is 15 but could pass for 12.
I hope Josh didn't want to hear any of the professional narration of her performance. Instead, he was treated to my stream of consciousness which went something like this:
(Julia appears on the ice)
Me, speaking to Julia: Oh, honey bunny! You poor little lamb...look at your sweet little face. You look like a middle schooler! Oh, bless your little heart. Oh, sweetie!
With each axle, I clenched my fists to my heart muttering, "Oh, you poor little thing!"
Nevermind that her performance was flawless, that she helped her team win the gold, that she probably has more inner strength in her 15-year-old pinky finger than I have in my substantial 26-year-old frame. Based on nothing, I was convinced the only antidote to her experience was for me to swadddle her in an electric blanket, feed her a re-hydration drink out of a crazy straw, all while reading her a culturally appropriate bedtime story.
1. Anxiety. The skiing and snowboarding events that take place at the Olympics are the devil's work. Doing triple back flips while soaring 300-feet through the air? Hurtling down an icey mountain side at speeds too fast for the highway with craggy rock faces on either side? By the way, some of them are also doing this with Novocaine doses intended for horses injected directly into their bruised knees. I am simply incapable of enjoying these events because I'm preoccupied thinking about all of the doom that could befall them. Paralysis, brain death, torn ligaments, punctured lungs--to name just a few. Call me dramatic, but these fears are well-founded; people are seriously injured doing these things all the time. Why would someone pursue this life when I am standing by, warmly welcoming them into my electric blanket?
Curling is looking better with every passing moment.
