As of today, the Winter Olympics that took over and punched this city so joyously in the gut, are over. It wasn’t an endeavor I was stoked about, I dreaded these last few weeks even, but those extra few minutes (literally, only a few minutes more) of sitting in traffic, meant I got to just soak in the red and white fever spilling out all over our downtown streets. From what I could see from the warmth of my car, and the few times we ventured downtown into the madness, this city did good. I’ve never been particularly chest-poundingly proud to be a Canadian, but I will take great pride in how we represented ourselves not only athletically but as good hosts, willing to stop being so goddamn cool for school and just have a shit ton of fun.
The Best Things I Saw: 1) We were lucky enough to be given great tickets to the Latvija/Slovakia Men’s Hockey Game. Those two European countries, that I would not be able to find on a map, put on a great game and by the end when Latvija was down 6-0, the entire building was shaking with the chant of “LATVIJA! LATVIJA!” We just wanted one goal for them. Just one. It didn’t happen but, man, it was an unforgettable couple of hours. 2) Watching the Men’s Gold Medal game by myself at home. (Too scared/lazy to brave downtown with the boys.) Hooting, clapping and sweating by yourself in red pajamas is a hell of a way to spend a Sunday afternoon. And what a fucking ending. Tears and screaming off my deck like a hooligan. Fairy-tale like, non?
The Touching: So yeah, the frisking getting into an Olympic venue was a bit much and I was ready to throw down to fight for my gluten free snacks if they wanted to turf them, but they didn’t mind/notice. (I have had countless winning fights against an assortment of people, agencies, inanimate objects etc. in my head. Actual fights in the real world? Zero.) And then the rubbing and brushing up against the other 17,000 people leaving the venue afterwards, as we were herded apocalyptic-style down the side of the building then onto the swarming Saturday night streets of downtown, was a wee bit claustrophobic. Nuv had to kick a stroller out of his way. It sounds mean, but women were wielding them like weapons down there. NOT COOL MOMS!
Best Thing I Heard: The roar over my neighbourhood (that I’m sure echoed out over this whole country) when Crosby scored the winning OT goal. To be sure, I do not like hockey. I do not watch hockey. But like a big giant sports girl hypocrite, I watched this game like my very life was on the line, and I don’t remember the last time I sweat so much sitting dead still. The subsequent honking, cheering, and chopper hum overhead made me feel like a part of it all even though I was nestled safe at home. (Please let Nuv get home without a Canadian flag being branded into his forehead…)
Best Thing I Tasted: Well, the $4.50 small bottle of Coke at the game tasted extra delicious because you could taste the markup in each swallow of fizzy brown gold, but I do need to mention that Choices managed to redeem themselves this week with not one but two flavourful surprises. First up was a bottle of Virgil’s Cream Soda. I checked the ingredients before I bought it and good ole number one was ‘unbleached cane sugar.’ Perfect. And oh it was. I cannot wait to try the black cherry cream soda. The second mouth surprise was a muffin I’d been avoiding for months (once again my gut instincts prove to be curdlingly wrong). When I got there nerd-early it was the only gf carb they had out, this tropical muffin, so I begrudgingly plopped the $4.99 three-pack into my basket. Well, they were delicious. Despite the suspicious sprinkling of toasted coconut on top, the insides were a crushed pineapple and yellow cake mashup which was delightful. So, Choices, you’re back in my (hesitantly) good books for now. (Who are we kidding? You know I’ll be back in every week looking for more treasures. Here’s to making them good, and not poop.)
Bear with me here, next week I will get back to non “Rah Rah Us!”-type sentiments, but the only smell worth mentioning this week was the glorious odor of success, victory, Canadian get-down and a February worth remembering. I’ll tell my grandchildren about what I saw these past weeks and right before they totally tune me out and go back to playing some type of futuristic iLife app, they might even see me wipe away a tear. Because I predict I will always be a sentimental pussy.
