Well THAT was a sobering experience, wasn't it? I suspect that for many fans out there, it doesn't matter how many medals the Canadian athletes win, if our hockey team doesn't win gold, it will be a national disgrace. We're just wired that way. Last night, I sat down to watch the Canada/U.S.A game with my husband, my dad and my two sons. They all assured me that we had this one in the bag. By the end of the first period, with the game tied, they maintained that we were outshooting the Americans. By the end of the second period, with the U.S. leading by one goal, they said not to worry, that extra goal doesn't count because Crosby shot it into his own net and yada yada. I went to bed. Sometime in the night, I think I heard someone quietly sobbing. Sure enough, the headlines this morning brought home the sad truth. 5-3 U.S.A. I'm sorry - whose game is it again?
Doesn't matter. We move on. Germany? Please. The country worships David Hasselhoff. Sweden? They'll fall apart faster than their furniture. Russia? Knock knock. Who's there? PAUL HENDERSON, that's who, you nogoodniks!
Ah well. If you heard me on air this morning, you'll know I am still I'm a sick puppy. It leaves me no choice but to lie on the couch for yet another day, listlessly clutching the flag in my red Olympic mittens. Like our hockey team, down but not out.
Later, skater.