Believe it or not, your friendly Reveille staff made it home from Clarksville, Tenn., unscathed.
There were a few close calls: The “Loud Speaker” blew a fuse, “Dankman” (a new superhero for cheesy sportswriters trying to score) turned his x-ray vision on acertain entertainment editor and “Andretti” Meyer nearly killed us all when she tried to get us to leave town at 7:30 a.m.
Thank heavens we all made it back to Baton Rouge in at least a few, re-gluable pieces.
We also brought home a few awards for our work, but we’re expecting the Russians to file complaints and attempt to take them away any day now.
I have no regard for those silly Russians, but this year’s games were pretty impressive.
As a Southerner who can count the times she has seen snow and ice on my fingers, I rarely have paid attention to the Winter Olympics.
The most I knew of the winter games before this year came from that sappy movie about the Jamaican bobsled team.
This year was different, mainly because U.S. pride has increased about 150 percent since Sept. 11 — and this year we actually rocked — except for the women’s Alpine ski team, which should have been tied to rocks and curled.
Now that the games are done, I submit to you Cuff’s top three of Salt Lake deuce-oh-oh-deuce.
Best sport we never knew existed: Curling.
Curling is cool because it looks like something we could all do, even if we did it really badly.
You just aim the rock, slide it down the ice, start yelling stuff and let your friends sweep it to victory.
As one friend said, one would have to be drunk to dream up a game involving huge rocks, ice and brooms.
Best drama: “Skates of Our Lives.”
Skating is a perennial fave, but this year was the sport’s most tainted since Tonya “Trailer Park” Harding burst on the scene in 1994.
The Russians toed the entire Olympic audience in the jockstrap with “Skategate” and I’ll be darned if they didn’t do it again when cute little Sarah Hughes triple-tripled her way to gold.
Hint to our dear friends in Russia: don’t bribe a judge in one competition and think anyone will listen when you whine about not winning.
Best Name: Move over Picabo, he’s a god.
Apolo Ohno won our hearts when he shrugged off a heart-breaking fall and said, “That’s our sport.”
Too bad some of the whiners from South Korea, Russia and even America couldn’t have this much class.
Share your Salt Lake sentiments with me at [email protected].
Rebekah Monson