Our father…

Vancouver wasn’t just a city,

it was a kind of fate…

A destiny rock for dreams that needed ledges…

Holy smokes…

I just don’t know what I’m going to do with myself when these 2010 Winter Games are all over…

My learning curve is exploding at a velocity equivalent to Weber’s slapshot,

and it’s going upstairs with Marleau…

Olympic calibre research is taking me in directions I could never have foreseen…

Who needs Viagra,

when you can shotgun a two-four of Team Canada,

in a semi-final also known as the last two and a half to go of serious Slovak pressure???

I raised an eyebrow when I saw Jon Montgomery openly gulp beer while parading through Whistler Village…

I wondered how that was going to go over in a province that will re- and re-elect Mumbo Jumbo Campbell Soup with the history of a DWI,

yet does not permit drinking in public places for its responsible tax paying adult citizenry…

I’ve been looking and listening with a fine tooth comb,

and so far have not seen any questioning of Jon Montgomery’s public conduct…

But when gold medal winning women do it,

lord have mercy,

the Associated Press just can’t turn a blind eye…

If you’re 18 years old,

and you made the two goals that helped knock the country’s gold medal count,

into first place,

you’d better watch your back,

for shots taken by the colonizers…

According to the Wikipedia:

Underage drinking under parental supervision is permitted at home in the provinces of New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia, British Columbia, Ontario^[6] and Saskatchewan.^[7] (To be clear, in British Columbia, only children of the supervising parents are allowed underage drinking, not any other minors or guests. Consumption of alcohol in another person’s home is subject to other laws.)^[8]

If Canada’s Hockey Place is where our team calls home,

and Coach Melody Davidson was in the house,

everything was according to the letter of the law,

for our leading ladies to sip Sumac Ridge Tribute GOLD,

while they fooled around with some Cuban cigars…

In response to the foofarah Dick Pound told Peter Mansbridge on National television,

I think it’s kind of like killing a mouse with an elephant gun…

These kids have worked like dogs for years and months,

and the pressure is off…

They had a huge game and a great win…

Hey, let them have some fun…

Maybe it’s just me and my sensitivities,

or myopia,

but I’m noticing that the men and women of sport,

and those who talk about them,

can’t floss their teeth from calling female athletes,

girls…

I haven’t yet heard any of the male athletes being called boys,

or kids,

or gentlemen,

but maybe that is because I’m not paying enough attention…

I have a couple of burning questions based on late night observations…

Is it just good ol’gentlemenly fun for Digital Lounge host Matt Wells to fake a deal with Don Taylor,

seen rubbing his nose like a coke addict,

for a pair of black panties ‘found’ in the athlete’s village,

or is that a yellow-flag moment…

What it be ladylike for women in the public eye,

say Jennifer Hedger and Erica Ehm,

to get all sniffy with a thong left behind in the men’s locker of the Richmond speedskating oval after a 5000m relay celebration???

Or dirty???

Double standards are everywhere…

And as Hayley Wickenheiser points out,

they’ve been most blatantly clear under the patriarchy of IOC president Jacques Rogge,

when he rained on the parade of growing the Girl Power that is Women’s Hockey…

We’re not on another planet,

we’re on this one…

And Mother Earth has got a message for ground control,

Let’s fucking showtime,

said Moe Dee,

the loudest voice in British Columbia.

— in The Man Game by Lee Henderson