|Show me some leg!
||[Aug. 12th, 2008|09:09 am]
So, I'll admit it, I don't really watch the Olympics. It's what I turn to when...there's nothing else on, which is likely this time of year, especially if you have poor-person's cable and when you've run through all of your Netflix short episodes or can't commit the time to a movie, which again, given the time of year and the low-grade cable I have, is highly likely. |
As an ex-equestrian, I used to seethe every 4 years because while the cross-country or stadium qualifying rounds are going on, I'm stuck watching some repetitive "back-story" about an athlete in a sport they show ALL the time. Dressage, okay, I get it, that's like golf -- you have to be into it to be able to watch it for more than a few minutes. But riders and horses careening around the countryside, throwing themselves over high, hard, wide obstacles, with ugly falls and accidents and spills? What's not to love about THAT visual spectacle?
And of course, just hold your breath waiting for Badminton to show up. But enough bitterness. I'll watch some swimming, although I'll admit it's because it used to be my event. (Horses, water, badminton...why the hell shouldn't television cater to my own specific needs?) As if I have TIME to watch it anyway...but I loves the bitching!
But I'll watch gymnastics -- mostly because it's equestrian events without the horse. The pleasure of watching finely tuned athletes be put through their paces. I'm glad that the "women" gymnasts finally look like athletes - not over-made up little girls, or semi-anorexics who can do what they do because their bones are hollow. I love those little brutes of girls. They look young and strong and powerful. Not minimized by make-up or starvation, or made to look cuter or younger than they are. (Although the shiny uniforms keep making me think they're wearing latex and THAT makes me feel dirty.)
But the men gymnasts....okay, those stirrup pants have GOT to go. Not all of us are bicep and pec junkies. Show me some leg!
I miss watching steeplechase. I don't mean on the Olympics but in general.
Every so often somebody would flub up in Oklahoma and we'd get steeplechase on tv. Now THAT'S a rockin good time. Haven't seen a good one in years.
I remember watching the Michelob Classic stadium jumping as well. Nothin funnier than seeing a board jump with giant michelob bottles as the supports.
Not as funny when the horse you're on freaks OUT because the supports are giant beer bottles and dumps you headfirst on said jump. Although I'll admit, it was Heineken bottles for me...I make myself drink it every now and then just to prove I don't hold a grudge. But I do.
OK I admit I never tackled anything more complicated than a C course and never in an arena big enough that had booze sponsors.
Telephone poles crossed were about as racey as we got.
The most bizarre, yet common in my neck of the woods, were the giant pink ex-carwash brushes. The first time my Damien (who would jump anything, even if I was hanging off the side of neck like a possum baby...cause THAT happened) saw one, he stopped dead and just as I was pulling myself back out from up inbetween his ears, jumped it from a dead stand still. I managed to hang on, but think I was close to possum baby by the time we landed on the other side.
Heh, heh, training that horse to saddle taught me to fall well. As well as how to bail before the MF rolled on me. Training him to jump taught me how to cling to any part of the horse within reach. Jumping him in shows taught me how to clamber back into the saddle from wherever I was hanging. 'Cause as long as your body doesn't touch the ground...you're still technically on there and can finish the course...
That horse taught me a lot.
OMG the memories. Dad had an Arabian/Quarter Horse cross. Poor schizophrenic thing had been trained for western pleasure as well as english.
Let's just say she never jumped 'lover's leap' but I did without her more times than I can care to remember. Lover's leap was down a hill with a jump at the bottom. You had to pace exactly right and she never *would* try it - she'd dead stop.
Of course at the time I had my arm in a cast and strapped to my body (broke in a few places from a misguided handspring incident not involving a horse) so with my balance over her head I went.
Every friggin time.
She could stop, squat and spin on a dime. Bitch.
See, I cannot watch women's gymnastics to enjoy the view because all the "women" are like 9 years old.
Your dirty old man-ness needs to come out and play.
I was ruined for the dirty old man bench when I lived with my step-daughter as she went through high school. Now any young lady her age or younger just doesn't do it for me.
I haven't been paying any attention. I'd really like to see some modern pentathlon, because it's so wack. And I probably wouldn't mind a little women's beach volleyball, too. Ahem. But the only thing that's on when I flip by is synchronized diving. Which isn't men or women, it is ROBOTS.
I just tried to send you email but your address must've changed. Insert frowny face here.
See, I've seen all sorts of women's beach volleyball in my flipping through. But tall, skinny, leggy women make me feel inadequate already, the last thing I need is to see said women being good at volleyball.
I'm very good at volleyball -- as long as the ball is aimed directly at my face. The self-defense return is my best shot.
My e-mail should be fixed today...it's what happens when you close out a bank account forgetting that you do a quarterly auto-pay on your e-mail server. And it's with a company that keeps banker's hours and won't talk to you because you've forgotten your password, since that's been on auto-fill for eons, and it's in the rolodex at home...which you only get to when they're closed and you keep forgetting to look it up and...but I think I have the password, fingernail clippings, and eye of newt that they require.
Ah, modern life -- where you have to work hard to get someone to take your money...
In the meantime, you can do via LJ -- look on the profile page.