Holy.

Crap. This is amazing.

I know, I know. I stole it from boingboing. But it's really amazing.

Firebird

I remember growing up hating Firebirds. Just thinking that they are the stupidest car ever. I was so disgusted by them. The late 70's into '81, '82 in particular. And then...it was probably around 1999 or so. It all changed. I somehow just got it. And I've wanted one ever since.

I remember watching Pimp My Ride a few years ago when they did up about a 1980 Firebird. It was so awesome. I fell in love.

Anyhow. This post excites me. It's amazing that somebody could be so crazy about Firebirds.

I looked at one a few years ago. It was out at the Shuswap and it was propane. White. My dream is to have one with a matching bicycle trailer. If I had a garage, I probably would have bought it.

Parallel Giant Slalom

Parallel Giant Slalom is a stupid sport that doesn't belong in the Olympics. I spent two days in terrible weather watching a boring sport and I'm not happy about it. Now, there was one exciting moment. We ended up slipping down the course 1 or 2 heats before the 2nd run of the gold medal final. Amazingly, the crowd had sat through a day of snow, rain and cold but were all really pumped up. When old Jasey-Jay Anderson came down and managed to create a win out of thin air, it was pretty exciting. But one exciting moment in two days of competition does not make for an Olympic event. Here's why:

1) The course was so dull. World Cup GS races (skiing) do not take place on blue square runs that are about 30 seconds long. If they did, they would be boring. If they had no terrain, they would be boring. They would also be more similar to parallel giant slalom.

2) The athletes are inconsistent. Yes, I know, you can't be perfect for the 50 runs that is required to win a gold medal. But still, I was shocked at how consistently sketchy many of the racers looked while completing their runs.
3) This race makes no sense and is hard to follow. There's so many runs and every athlete looks the same. I even knew what was going on and I had a hard time following it. Everybody understands skiercross/boardercross. Be one of the first two down the mountain and you move on. I can't remember how many times I heard "What? They have to go down again?" over those two days.

This whole theory can best be proven by telling you about a conversation with a photographer on my way down the course. See, we were slipping down the course between every freaking run. Like, thousands of times up and down the course. We'd do half of the run between each heat and then finish it up and head back around to the top. At one point I was beside either a Reuters or AP photographer. This was as I slipped down before the 2nd run of the bronze medal heat.

Photo Guy - "How many heats are left."
Me - "I'm not entirely sure. I think the next one might be the second heat for the bronze medal."
PG - "God. This makes no sense. This is the most uninteresting sport I've ever photographed. You get like 10 chances to win a medal. All these runs..."
Me - "Well...I think it's more that you get 10 chances to screw up and not win a medal."
PG - "No. (looks annoyed) It's definitely 10 chances to win a medal. I wish I had 10 chances to win a medal."

Then he looked even more annoyed and walked off. I don't even think he took a picture of the bronze medal heat. He was just angry and bored. And wet.

Anyhow. My Olympics ended with the Jasey-Jay Anderson gold medal. Once again, I was in the finish. I'm 3 for 3 on being in the finish and Canada getting a gold medal. And then I got the hell out of there and never looked back.

Canada-Russia

As we watched Canada wallop Germany, we were still unsure as to when they would be playing their quarterfinal game. Then there was the announcement - "Canada next plays Russia at 4:30 tomorrow." I quickly phoned Matt. "Those tickets are for 4:30 tomorrow, right?" Yes. Indeed they were.

The process started many months ago. Nobody believes me. But it all came down to careful planning. During the inital round of ticket purchases, none of the games had countries attached. Buying a preliminary ticket became a massive crapshoot. The gold medal tickets were too expensive. The semifinals seemed to be a bit unreasonable too. But the quarters...why, they were hardly more than a preliminary game. As well, there were only 4 of them and I speculated that they would make all attempts to put Canada in to the time zone that suited the East Coast of Canada the best. So we went for the 4:30 tickets and it worked out.

I was pretty happy to go to a Canada game and it seemed even more exciting as the hype for the Russia game was crazy. I arrived early and took in the atmosphere. I think every single person going in was wearing either Russia or Canada merchandise of some type. It was pretty crazy.

The seats we had were top bowl, second row back from the edge, right above the 1st/3rd period Canada goal. It was the best vantage point I've had in the top bowl at GM Place. It gave good perspective on the game. We were also able to see the crowd of people rushing the Wayner, asking for autographs.
The crowd, the signs, the crazy Russians, the excessive amounts of beer. It was all just too much for the senses. When Canada scored it's first goal...holy shit. I've never witnessed such an eruption in person before. High fives ran rampant. It was a crazy scene.

The jubilance lent itself well to more beer. As the game became a bit of a blowout everything got a bit muddy. It's all now just a haze of red and beers. I add pictures just to prove that I was there.

I said to Matt at some point in the second period that I wished it wasn't turning into as much of a blowout. His response was "I think we should take it. Lets go get more beer." Seemed like a fitting theme for the night.

Women's Ski Cross

Well, it kind of feels like my volunteer experience is over. I have two more events to do (women's and men's Snowboard PGS), but I really don't care at all about those events and have no interest in being involved.

The women's event was quite different than the mens. Mostly, just due to the weather, I guess. The day started out and it seemed like things would be perfect. It was cloudy and cold. But the course didn't really set up top to bottom. Many of the landings were very sugary and we battled all day to keep it in decent shape. Then the snow started. It was kind of embarrassing to see the ladies poling across the flats like, to steal a joke from Brian Stemmle, Bjorn Dahle.

The good thing about the women's event was that I had a smaller crew for the heats so we were able to slowly make our way down the course, helping out where we were needed. I saw the course from some different vantage points.

The best was just below the large wooden jump in the middle of the course. We'd watched a lot of racers go by from just above it, but the view from below was crazy. One of the heats we saw was the semi-final where the French girl over-jumped trying to make a pass and blew out of the course. Oh my god. It looked like she was a good 10 feet higher than the other girls. It was crazy. She pulled off the course about 10 feet above us and the medic came down to see if she was alright. It was an odd conversation that ended with her saying (in her thick french accent) "You can have no possible idea on how I am feeling right now." She looked over at us with sad eyes and skied down the course.

From there, we worked on a few more corners and ended up in the finish for the final. Once again, me being in the finish corral seemed to be very important and Canada won a gold. The crowd went crazy. Flags were waved. Etc.

Which brings me to...something. I realize that my thought process is different from many. There's been a lot of comments over the past week about "being around all these Olympians". Nobody has really been all that star struck (as nobody that's been working around me seems to have any idea what the sports have been about) but there's still this strange reverance for any athlete remotely attached to the Olympics. I've seen it at work where an Olympian shows up and people just lose their minds. I understand this reaction (I myself get a bit giddy when I see a World Cup ski racer) but I don't really understand how it can be present when you:

A) Don't know anything about the sport the person is participating in.

B) Have no idea who they are, have never heard their name and know nothing about them other than that they are an "Olympian".

So. With that in mind...my ski cross experience ended late in the day. We were walking from the bottom of the course and as we got to the lodge, Ashleigh McIvor came out from someplace, most likely after peeing in a cup. There were 2 other volunteers with me. They hooted and hollered, I raised my poles in my patented victory salute. She looked over and smiled. Then thanked us all for our hard work. It was a nice moment and I kind of felt that "Olympic presence".
PS - These long days are really getting to me. I just spelled "know" as "no", not once but twice.

Men's Ski Cross

Men's ski cross is done. Women's goes tomorrow. I couldn't face the day up there today. I was tired. I had the sniffles. I came in to work.

Yesterday was a crazy day. I woke up at 2:50 in order to make it to my 3:24 bus on time. It didn't show up. I took a cab downtown and things were crazy. Drunks all over the place. Hookers trying to flag down the cab. Drunks trying to take pictures of all us volunteers. Crazy.

When we finally got up to Cypress, my whole day was out of whack. I ate lunch at 8:30 in the morning. I kept thinking there was something wrong as the light was so low in the sky. It was still a bit dark when the athletes began their inspection. I was in a terrible, horrible foul mood.

Finally, the sun came out and the race was ready to go. Note form:

- I had no idea Dave Barr was a last minute replacement. What a crazy story. I used to race against Dave Barr. He was a tiny little guy that hauled ass. Now he's kind of a chunky little guy that hauls ass

- The speed of the ski cross over the boarder cross is crazy

- I popped my head into the Salomon wax cabin and this is what it looked like. Note the rows of skis down the left side wall as well

- The crowd for the ski cross was the best that I had seen. There seemed to be gaps in all the other crowds, but not this one

- I thought this shot right after the flower ceremony was kind of neat
- I had to pee in the woods at one point
- Watched much of the race from a spot just above the 2nd to last turn. We could see about half the course and lost the racers just as they hit the lip of the 2nd to last jump. It was a heartbreaker to see Del Bosco go out like that. But he's barely Canadian. I shot this from a well-timed trip up the chair
- I saw Rhalves a few times as well

- The Canadian team suits really did look like pyjamas. They are sort of camouflage too

- Willy Raine is one of the coaches. Here he is with two of the ladies, in his pyjamas on training day
- This camera guy was surly-hilarious

Molson Hockey House

Molson Hockey House is a bit of a farce. It's like a giant UBC Beer Garden with older people and expensive beer. Large TV's. Etc.

Honestly though. It's just a big tent with a bunch of people dressed in red. It's a giant Canada propaganda machine

However...I was in attendance in official Molson capacity. On the way home, at the Skytrain Station...we bumped into Stockwell Day. I interviewed him. It was bizarre.