The Cold War as interpreted by male figure skaters

Smiley N. Pool / Chronicle Olympic Bureau

Eye of the tiger.

It is no longer 1984. We are no longer engaged in a protracted battle of principles, politics and philosophy with the Soviet Union. But, isn’t there a little part of the 80s inside of you that is super proud of our American male figure skater, Evan Lysacek, for defeating evil Soviet character from central casting, Evgeni Plushenko?

Whatever, Drago. Get back to me once you’ve cut that mullet and dropped the conspiracy theories about the international community punishing Russia.

Other conspiracies? How about NBC’s terrible coverage, what with the saving broadcasting until hours after events have occurred, and impossible stupidity:

It’s like they intend to be embarrassing…

Tonight, we’ve got sexxxxy male figure skating, half-pipe hotties and the super combined which sounds awfully complicated.

It turns out that Super Combined is just one run downhill and one run of slalom, which, two runs? What’s so “super” about that? (Sez the middle-aged blogger who rarely leaves her living room chair or her drink.) American Julia Mancuso does well on the downhill and is followed an Austrian who makes a couple tiny mistakes that would have sent your trusty blogger flying into the nearby trees or into an emergency room with a broken everything.

Lindsey Vonn is pretty, and takes the lead. She says she’s tired and her shin is hurting. My shin is hurting just watching her. We then have some other skiiers that we don’t care about, Germans or something, before we get to the Swede Lady who had a Very Bad Crash the day before. Like, really bad. With flipping and rolling and tumbling into flags. With contusions on her “backside” as the announcer so primly describes. Indeed. Lady Swede manages to make it down the mountain upright this time, so good for her!

Shaun White and his glorious hair discuss with Bob Costas how much pressure it is to be awesome. Which they are. But the Double McTwist 1260 still sounds like a Starbucks drink to me. He should try it with a two-pump vanilla, no-fat, extra hot mocha next time.


Slalom slalom slalom. Julia Mancuso strips Crashy the Swede of her early lead on the slalom, only to have her lead stripped by some German. The German lacks some sort of dramatic package though, so I’m uninterested in learning her name. Lindsey Vonn is the final racer — USA! USA! USA! — but about halfway down the mountain, she loses a ski and everyone is all sad and hiding their faces in their hands and the German is all HOORAY FOR ME AND DER VATERLAND! which, you know, yeah, good for you. Apparently, aside from being a gold medalist, the German is also a psychic and predicted that Lindsey would win the gold in downhill and she’d win the gold in Super Combined. And I’m not saying that she’s a witch, but I’m not saying she isn’t one, either.

And all of this would have been much more dramatic if I hadn’t read all about it all over the intertubes about 5 hours ago.

I want to care about Women’s Halfpipe. But I have a suggestion, Olympics: maybe we should have the Women’s Halfpipe before the Men’s? It’s not that the women aren’t interesting, it’s just that, well, men get much better air, and it’s, you know, more exciting to watch. After watching Shaun White fly into the stratosphere last night, it’s kinda a big shrug to watch the female snowboarders barely get up over the lip of the pipe. And so, you know, maybe if you had the ladies go first, it wouldn’t be such a … letdown? (Hang on a sec, I’ll go get my feminist card for you to run through the shredder…)

Gretchen Bleiler is a remarkably gorgeous American snowboarder with a huge fan base (ya think?) who proves me wrong with some amazing height, but then falls about 2/3rds of the way through, so, boo. Hannah Teter, yet another American, and yet another cute blond who also just happens to be the gold medalist from Torino, takes the lead spot with a strong run, but most importantly, a run that doesn’t include a huge fall on her face. So, USA! USA! USA!

Oh, here’s a package about Bleiler, Teter and Clark and how they’re BFFS! SRSLY, YOU GUYS! Gretchen got married! Hannah sells maple syrup for Africa! Kelly didn’t win the gold medal in Torino! None of these things have anything to do with the other, but they’re sisters, y’all! SUCH! GOOD! FRIENDS!

Bleiler and fellow American, Hight, after a terrific starts, manage to hit the deck of the pipe and fall, ending their runs at medals. And then I lose interest because blah blah “going in for the 1080!” blah blah “she’s going to try to do a 900!” blah blah “oh no! She fell!” blah blah blah Blah BLAH. And in the end, some Australian wins the gold, while Teter wins the silver and Clark wins the bronze. Yay.


Oh, Lawd. We’ve pulled Dick Button out again. I have a very hard time picturing this man as a figure skater, but fine. Here’s some alleged video of Dick from the 1952 Olympics in his waiter costume:

And I just lost track of what Dick had to say. Was it interesting? O WHO AM I KIDDING? I DON’T CARE.

YAY! Men’s Free Skate! Let’s get this mutha started! American Jeremy Abbott is wearing an outfit that I thought was appropriate office attire in 1998, with his black pants and French blue shirt. If only he were wearing big clunky black shoes, he and I from 12 years ago would be completely indistinguishable. He falls on his face on something called a quad. Well, that’s too bad. Scott Hamilton at some point notes that Jeremy “seems to be waking up from this nightmare,” but Jeremy appears to still be dressed as an editorial assistant from the late 90s to me, so I’m not sure what Hamilton is talking about.

Something something something hockey something shoot-out something Canada Sweden something something something something.

Japan’s Takahiko Kozuka falls on his face and yet, when his performance is done, Scott Hamilton says something about how Kozuka doesn’t know how hard skating is, and I’m sorry, what? I think his face when it met the ice, knew exactly how hard it is.

KAZAKHSTAN! Bob Costas is doing his best to not dispel any stereotypes about Kazakhstan that Borat may have reinforced, what with this skater having to skate outside on the pond that they use to water the cows and pigs and wives and I’m sorry, wait. Denis Ten is actually South Korean? And his family immigrated to Kazakhstan? Who immigrates from this to this? Did their plane crash on the way to the United States? DOES NOT COMPUTE. (Sits back, waits for the hate comments from Kazakhstan.)

Additionally, Bobby would like to know if Beaker is singing this song:

Shaun White is awarded his medal for his amazingpants performance last night and STOP PLAYING AIR GUITAR, SHAUN WHITE. UNCOOL. Dammit.

Back to Men’s Free Skate. Apparently, French skater, Florent Amodio, has killed two people. He’s a marionette. Who has been manipulated by Jacob to skate to 5 different, incompatible songs and be a candidate. For the gold.

Canadian Patrick Chan comes out in his sparklepants, which is, incidentally, the name of my toddler beauty consulting company. (I do not have a toddler beauty consulting company. But I kinda wish I did.) Sparklepants skates to Phantom of the Opera, which DRAMA! And, unfortunately for Sparklepants, the medals aren’t based on crowd applause.

The Czech figure skater with his blond hair and argyle sweater and khaki pants? This is how my husband, Mr. T, would dress if he were a figure skater. And if the figure skater wore glasses. And if he were a foot taller. I’m in love.

O Look! Did you know that Olympic Gold is only awarded once every 4 years! IT IS A TRUE FACT.

I’m sorry, but is Evan Lysacek gorgeous man Clive Owen? Because he’s got that Hot British thing DOWN COLD. He has sequin snakes all over his chest, and I approve. He is handsome and flawless and I’m ready to throw over boyfriend Johnny Weir for him and his snakes. USA! USA! USA!

Japan’s Nobunari Oda comes out in his Maitre’d outfit and does some weird Charlie Chaplin nonsense and YAWN. I am too distracted by the fact that his pants don’t match his jacket to pay any attention to his routine. There’s a fall and our Little Tramp shows the judges that he had lace issues. Fortunately, he’s given a few minutes to remedy the situation, and whaddya know, but it rallies the crowd to his support. Good for him for finishing? I guess?

Hottie pants, Stephane Lambie of Switzerland, doesn’t have a triple axle in his routine, which distresses the announcers to no end. Personally, I don’t care much as he is very very pretty. Scott Hamilton and the other announcers declare the program flat and that Stephane is FULL OF SHAME. I have no idea what they’re talking about because I don’t speak figure skating.

Daisuke Takahashi of Japan, in his ridiculous harlequin shirt, is next. He falls on his face. But his laces don’t come flying apart, so points for that.

Johnny Weir and his glove hands, WHOM I LOVE BECAUSE HE’S JOHNNY WEIR, are up next. His routine is called “Fallen Angel,” which, according to our announcers, reflects how he feels since his last Olympics in Torino. Excuse me while I pour one out for Johnny Weir’s ego. Still, baby boy was nothing short of fabulous. Just note the rose hat he is wearing during his scor–WHAT? HE DOESN’T PLACE? Excuse me while I join the crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO. BOOOOOOOOO.


Evil Mulleted Russian (redundant?) Evgeni Plushenko, shows up with his sequined tie and vest, and the next thing you know, Scott Hamilton is shrieking about a “triple toe.” There might have been some pelvic thrusts, which made everyone uncomfortable. There are also a LOT of jazz hands. Which, you know. The announcers are firmly in Not!Clive Owen’s camp. But then, comparing the two, the announcers devolve into making Three Stooges and cat noises which does not help clairify anything.





Ooh! Ice Dancing tomorrow! Bobby will be ALL OVER THAT NOISE.

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