NAGANO, Japan — When she finished the performance of her dreams, she threw her hands in the air and began to run across the ice, bouncing on her skate tips, her smile as big as the arena itself. She ran on pure adrenaline, like a kid running to meet her daddy at the airport gate — only it wasn’t the airport, it was the Olympics. And it wasn’t Daddy, it was destiny. Look who just grew up.
NAGANO, Japan — “Come, Alberto, we take walk.”
“Si, Mitchi,” Alberto Tomba says. “We take walk.” I pat him gently on his shoulder, and we move along the mountain path, the cold morning wind shaking snowflakes from the trees.
“Vino, Alberto?” I say, taking a flask from my satchel.
“No, Mitchi, grazie,” he says.
“Panna?” I say, taking a roll from my pouch.
“No, Mitchi, grazie.”
“Dolce?” I say, offering a candy bar.
“No, Mitchi.” He pats his growing stomach. “I am still in training, si?”
NAGANO, Japan — “I hate to be negative, but this was a complete waste of time.”
— Keith Tkachuk, after Team USA was eliminated
By the time you read this, our red, white and (mostly) blue hockey team will be on its way home, its sticks between its legs. Not only did our men fail to outshine the rest of the world at these Olympic Games, they didn’t even outshine their U.S. female counterparts, who captured the gold in splendid fashion.
NAGANO, Japan — Oh yeah? Well, our gas is cheaper.
And our taxes are lower. And our money is worth more. And our radio stations don’t have to play Gordon Lightfoot once an hour …
Keep telling yourself all the advantages America has over Canada, and pretty soon you won’t even mind that when it comes to Olympic hockey, The Great White North owns The Little Black Puck.
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