Canada. Hockey. Switzerland. Overtime. Shootout. Whaa???
Meanwhile, figure skating: Patrick Chan is warming up, dressed as the world’s sparkliest Keg waiter.
Question: By what percentage does the very existence of an area colloquially referred to as the Kiss ‘n Cry reduce the number of young males willing to consider taking up the sport? 90%? 130%?
This is going to sound terrible, but you know what I enjoy most about figure skating? The falling down. I’m like a person who watches auto races for the crashes or follows Hollywood for the Lindsay Lohan. And already tonight, as the men slap-fight for the gold, there’s been some quality falling down, including a nice slip by a Japanese fellow who nailed the tricky jumps, including a quad, but wiped out on a double dee-doo (jump name may not actually exist).
In other news, the Belgian skater’s outfit and theme song are heavily influenced by Robin Hood. His jumps are heavily influenced by gravity.
Hey: What happened to the awesome old style of figure-skate judging, with the six-point-zeros and the stink of corruption? I miss it. It’s like finding out a shady old pal is trying to go straight but all you really want him to do is hook you up with some weed. At least tell me the judging is still rife with cronyism, prejudice and incompetence. Throw me a bone here.
Patrick Chan skates. He needs to be perfect to have a shot at the podium, the commentators tell me. He is not perfect, the commentators tell me seconds later. “Down he goes,” says Rod Black. “Patrick Chan could not rise up.” Worse still, it’s been 20 minutes since I ordered my Keg ceasar salad and Chan still hasn’t brought it to my table.
WHOA! Hang on! Chan just melted the ice with ass friction and yet he got a huge score? Figure skating — come here and give me a hug! You haven’t changed on me at all.
Evan Lysacek now. I never thought I’d say this, but the world may finally have come up with a figure skater capable of prompting the average man to say: “This guy just might be able to take me.” Big. Hairy. Plus he appears to have around his neck a snake made of diamonds. I’m crossing to the other side of the street just to be safe.
Lysacek moves into first place. The judges were apparently impressed with the originality of his program. For instance, he didn’t fall down, which tonight qualifies as original.
A Japanese maitre d’ is now skating. To his credit, he finds a whole new way to fall — his skate lace snaps apart, causing him to hit the ice hard while trying to land a jump. He pauses his program, fixes the problem and simultaneously seats a party of eight in the private dining room. Impressive.
Some Swiss guy flubs his quad. And then his next jump. “He’s got to find his feet,” says commentator David Pelletier. Might I suggest looking in the Lost & Spaz bin?
Three to go. Daisuke Takahashi of Japan takes the ice. Rod Black tells us that Takahashi holds the world record for total score. And, judging from his outfit tonight, the Olympic record for collar size. He lines up his first jump. “Down he goes,” Black declares. Wow, this ice surface has seen more asses than a rental car.
Johnny Weir. [Long pause.] I may be wrong but I think Johnny is modeling Victoria’s Secret’s new line of “I Guess A Man Could Wear It If He Really Wants To” lingerie.
So finally it’s Plushenko. Captain Quad. The Quadster. Quad Black. Quadadingdong. Quadrophenia. Quadapalooza. Quadawada– oh, he lost to Lysacek. People seem shocked so I guess it’s shocking, though I was more shocked that no one seemed to care that a real actual zombie was just sitting there next to Plushenko. Did you see that guy? He made Dick Cheney look rosy-cheeked.
Anyway: Congratulations, only figure skater who could easily beat me up! Congratulations on not falling down!