Good Time at the Olympiad: Volume Dos

After taking this picture, every Chinese person in our section decided to follow suit and block the views of the people who actually were sitting there.

The last three days of the Olympics were better than any Vegas trip that I have ever been on. I basically spent the money needed for a trip to Hong Kong (with lodging but no fancy suits) on tickets to see: The Track & Field Finals on Friday, Boxing Finals on Saturday, and then the Gold Medal USA Hoops Game (I actually got a free ticket to this one) on Sunday.

So I went with my friend Luojia to the Bird's Nest on Friday and it was a night that really shined. The 4x100 relays, the Pole Vault Final, The Women's Long Jump, and a bunch of other stuff. Not to mention we sat eleven rows up right by the jumping pit so our seats were about as good as you can get, complete with maniacal Jamaican fans who were either coaches or family members of the competitors. Jamaica now completely dominates the track events in the Olympics, and speculatively speaking this may have something to do with the fact that they are only tested three times a year for drugs. With no random tests at all, making it incredibly ease to cycle on or off (this is all hypothetical) steroids. Regardless, they are the best in the world and I still have the utmost admiration for the record-breaking feats that I witnessed during the Olympiad.

So after going through a time-consuming and completely annoying security check not once but twice, we lumbered our way into the stadium. On a side note I must address the Chinese security check-points...they are awful. It is like going through an airport security line where EVERYBODY sets off the sensors. There was even one time where I walked through in a tank-top, board shorts & sandals, with nothing in my pockets, and I still set off the demonic red light which I will always loathe. After iginiting the matching button a wand is probed all over your body parts including the family jewels. So as you can imagine since everybody sets off the sensors, the lines take far too long to get through. The reward being a frail Chinese security guard who has just wanded you in your privates, then gives you a stern-faced nod to walk another kilometer to the stadium as you continually wince at the painful prodding you have just endured.

The track though was worth the annoying assault that I had to arduously endure and Jamaica was fantastic. Winning the Women's Long Jump by a few centimeters, their fans danced around like Bob Marley was playing a live concert back from the grave. This party went on for quite some time, that is until the Women's 4x100 track team (who had the Gold, Silver, & Bronze medalists in the event) dropped the baton on the final turn and ended up getting ousted. This dubious screw-up had happened to the US 4x100 Men's and Women's teams in the earlier events, and they did not even qualify. Can somebody call Carl Lewis for me, we need a new coach. Just make sure that he does not do any singing, his National Anthem will go on in infamy until the next Ice Age...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_uDc5tQxmJY

Soon after, the 4x100 for the Men took place and the happy, and then angry, and now happy again Jamaicans celebrated like the last scene of "Cool Runnings". Bolt, in my humble opinion, is the best short-distance Track Athlete of all-time. This is not just because he blows everybody out of the water in the races, but because he is so laid back leading up to the race. Everyone else is nervous and in their own bubble as the pride of their nation is on the line, and Bolt might as well be sipping a Mai Tai on a tropical beach. Then he celebrates afterwards with some of the worst dance moves I have seen since bumping into a Korean dance crew at a club who had choreographed their hip hop dance to the Soulja Boy song (word on the street is that Korea is now the world's greatest haven for Soulja Boy's has-been lyrical non-talent). The Pole Vault final was the event of the night though, as a red-haired Australian named "Hooker" kept coming back from the dead on his last jumps to advance to the medal rounds. Since this was late in the night, most of the fans were slightly inebriated, and all of the legendary Aussie fan patrol kept shouting "Come on, HOOKER! You can do it HOOKER!" I may have joined in on a few of these chants. My friends and I always joke about Gingers, and many have even joined "The Official Ginger Awareness Group" on Facebook. It is amazing that not only do they allow ginger-haired Carrot Top look-alikes to compete in the games, but they even give them medals when they win and treat them like the non-Ginger competitors. It's nice to see segregation broken down first-hand as the world matures...HAHAHA. Well, our pole-vaulting Ron Howard disciple really helped give the Gingers some much-needed accolades, and ended up winning the event... This was my Friday evening, and have to say it was my favorite Olympic event of the games.

On Saturday, I scored Boxing Finals tickets and used my extra ticket to take the Chinese volunteer named Barbara with me to watch some first-class pugilism. Even though she was an Olympic volunteer, and a very pretty one at that, she had not gone to a single event. Pretty lame how being a volunteer gets you into zero events, and they make you wear a lame t-shirt that reminds me of the saddened suckers who serve Churro's at Disneyland by Space Mountain (I am ashamed to admit that this was my first ever job and was as lame or lamer than anyone could imagine...I have no love for that mouse). So after settling in at the boxing a group of Americans who looked as if they had been on a ten-hour drinking bender stormed in behind us. After a little while, I ended up chatting with the bumbling booze-hounds and it so happened that they all worked at this pizza joint in Beijing called "The Crow's Nest", which happens to be the only good pizza that I have found in the city. One of the guys was not hammered and was obviously the leader, and we ended up bonding over boxing chat and he told me that he was the manager of the restaurant. His friends were as sharp as beach balls, as Damien The Manager and I managed to convince his followers that the bronze medalist fights had all ended in draws and that is why two boxers kept getting bronze medals. In Olympics Boxing, there is no bronze medal match so the two losing semifinalists get bronzes. You would have thought after the third time that the pizza servers would have figured it out, but these guys had taken one too many hits from the bong and thought it was awesome how many ties there were.

After a few lackluster fights, we finally got a gem. It was in Middleweights as James Degale from the UK took on a Cuban. Degale was just the biggest wuss ever (disclaimer: I know that he could beat the living tar out of me in 30 seconds, this is just in comparison to other fighters), he got an early lead on points so all he did was clutch and grab for the last two rounds. It really proved the point that the Olympic scoring systems is garbage and needs to be trashed ASAP. As a ticket-purchasing customer I felt the obligation to BOOO!!!!!!!!!! as loud as I could, and Damien and his pizza posse followed suit. The next thing you knew all of the Chinese people in our section, who are fascinated with just about everything, joined in as did a bunch of other sections joined in our ruckus. This BRIT boxer acter as if it was the waltz final all the way to the end, and as he got wusser we got louder and then some not-so-nice remarks were thrown out. I knew it had gotten out of hand when my date for the evening Barbara, shouted out "YOU SUCK LIMEY!!!!" At the top of her lungs. We continued the booing even when the Brit was on the medal stand, which is completely wrong and immoral, but by this time the mob mentality had come into full force and the hurricane was let loose. So that was my last Olympic boxing event, and the only thing I can take away from it is crazy fans from Eastern Europe and hating a British Boxer whose gold medal was tarnished in part by my rudeness... Sorry Uncle Sam, but up until that point I had been a good American, but I dropped the ball on this one.

Sunday Funday was craziness. I had gone out the night before and was ready to throw in the towel, my body can only handle so much Olympics. Seriously, it's like being trapped at the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas for two weeks. So much fun, but after a while you just want to cash in your chips and call it a good time had. But when I was offered a ticket to the Gold Medal Basketball Game I had to put on my war face once again and I soon enough I was being prodded by a rod in my rear by a Chinese boy who was yet to go through puberty. The first game was actually pretty weak, Argentina just came out and just ate Lithuania's lunch. But the Gold Medal Game was amazing. A friend of a friend and I snuck our way down to the good seats by becoming fast friends with some Chinese hoops fans with great tickets (one of the guys had on an old-school Michael Jordan jersey), and got within shouting distance of Kobe, Carmello, and the rest of the dream-teamers. Since there was nothing but hot dogs on a stick and it was too early to booze I decided to satisfy my hunger with all of the junk food that 20 RMB (three dollars US can buy), and had the luxury of watching the game in some great seats. Of course I got kicked out of the seats soon thereafter and was sent back to the upper-deck, but it was a good run while it lasted. Even watching the game from the nose-bleed section was great, as the emotion of the crowd meant more than being closer or far away from the action. Two things I will really remember from that game: Dwight Howard getting dunked on by Rudy Fernandez; Kobe Bryant taking some awful shots at the end of the game. I know the US won, and Kobe lead us to victory, but please watch the last five minutes of the game and then tell me that Kobe was being a team player. The fade-away three with a hand in his face made me want to scream. Nevertheless, the US won, order is restored in the American world dominance of basketball, and the Olympics had come to a close.

As I heard the National Anthem play and saw our heroes on the hardwood I shed a tear. Not because of my joy for the nation, but because the Olympics had officially come to a close. And the factories and cars would open again at their maximum capacity, bringing back the pollution and gridlock of pre-Olympic daily life.

I tip my hat to China for doing an amazing job with the Olympics. I will never forget these days of grace, and can only reminisce of heckling handball referees or Chinese fans yelling Jiao over and over again. The Chinese Olympiad is over and I am saddened but feel that I did it the best that I could.

a saddened former spectator,

Matt

Good time at the Olympiad: Volume Uno PICS

Fumas and Cheerleaders getting wild for the halftime show. My favorite is the blue Fuma who is getting his freak on. Best Olympic mascots ever!!!
Russia vs. France in the quarterfinals. Double-OT Russian victory.
This is the boy who now has my white USC hat. My favorite hat. I hope he can appreciate in years to come the personal sacrifice that I made on his behalf.
My friend Anja supporting the Red Army. Notice how I "forgot" to put the equally absurd pic of me wearing a Chinese heart sticker on my face. Totally forgot...LOL
The two loudest French fans in the stadium sat right in front of us. I did all of the cheers with them, or at least attempted to.
Groupies of the two French guys who sat in front of us. These thirsty women would follow their cheers within seconds...Go France!
My USC hat. I miss you...
Great action shot of the Dutch Women's Field Hockey Team.
The Dutch love women's field hockey. Not quite sure what the relevance is of their blow-up orange candy canes, but I know that I want one.
Anja. My connection to the world of field hockey. She taught me all of the rules and tactics which I now cannot remmeber.
Look at those fingernails. I just don't get it. Why?!?!?! To use as a cutting utensil? For protection in a knife fight? Do chicks dig it? Looking for answers if anybody has got them.
The only way to watch the Olympics.
USA getting the gold in women's soccer. U-S-A! U-S-A!
Blessing. A USC student and fellow Trojan. Making friends in the strangest of places is the way I do business.
The brewmasters. These guys are the best...
Pimptastic shoes the guy in front of me was wearing.

Good time at the Olympiad: Volume Uno

My brethren:

It's been a while since I have had the time to blog on this most magnificent of sites, and I have many stories to tell. The two-week extravaganza that they are calling "The Olympics" went by so quickly, I am still trying to digest what exactly happened. It was like one minute I was putting on a Go China Bandanna, and the next thing I knew I was eating an overpriced plate of pasta watching the closing ceremony. I feel like a ten year-old boy who was given a Golden Retriever puppy for X-Mas, only to have it run over by a garbage truck two weeks later. A friend of mine wrote about the Olympics and used analogies of Disneyland and Epcot Center, but my experience was more like a two-week run at Vegas as a "big-player". I might as well have been watching the "Blue Man Group" every afternoon, and a UFC Main Event Card every night. Throw in beers for less than a dollar; the ridiculous culture of Chinese sports fans; obnoxious European and American fans in absurd yet hilarious costumes; and a dash of goofy mascots dancing with cheerleaders, and there you have the 2008 Beijing Games my friends. I am going to highlight some of the more memorable moments of my misadventures during the second week of Olympic glory. As much fun as Week #1 was, Week #2 was the best sequel since the "The Bourne Supremacy" flicks. It was like if you took the second and the third rolled both of them together, and added a pinch of Gary Busey.

After taking a one-day break on Monday of all days (where I rested by drinking more water than a thirsty hippo and going to work) I brought back the fury on Tuesday. I went to see the quarterfinals of my new favorite sport Women's Handball with my Swiss friend Anja, and I definitely made a mark on the game. Or at least a scratch. Round One was the mighty Chinese ladies against the Koreans from the South, and I came armed to the teeth with a China bandanna and a sticker on my face. "Jiao!" chances on repeat by the one-tracked minded Chinese blared throughout the stadium, and even though they got walloped by a dozen goals, the maniacal fans kept on chanting until the final seconds. I recently found out that the English translation to the Chinese word jiao is "add gas". There are just too many jokes for this one, so I will let the reader use his or her imagination.

In Round Two the Frenchies went toe-to-toe with the undefeated Russians. I'll tell you one thing I was happy to not be donning a French handball outfit on this day, as the Soviets had two women whom easily could have stunt-doubled for Frankenstein. I don't know how or what they made these women with, but they both looked like they had just murdered a dozen school children. Surprisingly enough, the descendants of Napoleon led almost the entire game, and this was great for Anja and I since we were in the French section and the Frenchies have way better cheers than the Russians. One of the guys in our section must have been a star cheerleader in his former life, because he was a machine. But just like the Maginot Line, the French eventually crumbled, and were taken down by the Gorbachev generation in double-overtime. To make matters worse the American family next to us had just moved out to China, and their kindergarten-aged boy was completely overtaken by my white USC hat (my undergraduate alma mater). After the game I pulled an Indiana Jones, just like when Harrison Ford gave his fedora to Shia Lebeouf, and passed the torch of Trojan prowess to this fellow American by giving him my hat. Most people would feel good about this sort of thing, BUT THIS IS MY ONLY USC HAT! Or was my only USC hat, and they don't have Foot Locker out here in the Orient. If this kid isn't the next Carson Palmer I'm not ever going to be content with my decision.

The next day my friend Anja took me with her to the women's semifinals of field hockey. As I mentioned in a previous blog Anja is a world-class field hockey player; unfortunately, she happens to be Swiss and they are to the Olympics what the duck-billed platypus is to the animal kingdom. No Olympic qualification for this swiss miss, but Anja has all kinds of hook-up's in the field hockey world and we were able to get right up to the front row. Round One in this one was "Ze Germans" against the JIAO-chanting Chinese. The Germans were heavy favorites but China was too strong down the stretch, and won a barn-burner. I found the game to be much more action-packed than I would have expected. My only knowledge of field hockey, was from the wildebeest-sized women at my high school, who it seemed only made the team because nobody else wanted to play the sport. But these women were fit, skilled, and for the most part very attractive.

The second game featured the Dutch who thumped Argentina by four goals. The fans of the Dutch team, wore bright Halloween colors, and drank their faces off. Normally, the food & drink lines of the Olympics will have one random guy getting like twelve beers for his friends. But it seemed that every Dutch guy buying beer was this random guy, and a line of only five people took me about fifteen minutes to get my brewskies. They don't believe in kegs at the Olympics, so they have to open every beer by hand. Another moment I will not forget, was turning around and seeing a Chinese guy sitting behind me with fingernails as long as Freddy Kruger from "Nightmare on Elm Street". I have had this sort of thing happen quite a few times, and these are not the meterosexual Chinese males, but just random ordinary Chinese guys who think is is cool to grow their nails four inches long. I quickly snapped a picture of this with my camera. I have found that getting pictures of these sort of things is easy: you just give your victim a wide smile and a thumbs up and they will be more than willing to pose for my photography collection of weird and unusual things in China

On the way home in the crammed bus I stumbled into a pretty Chinese Olympic volunteer named Barbara, and when I woke up the next day I noticed that her name and phone number were written on a piece of paper in my pocket. Good start to Thursday. This next day would be a great one as I had two tickets to the Women's Gold Medal Soccer game, and it was USA vs. Brazil. Since I had an extra ticket I decided to take one of the girls form my work, who I felt otherwise would not be able to attend any events. It is a shame that going to the Olympics for most native Beijinger's is completely out of the question. Getting tickets as a Chinese person is terribly difficult, and then overcoming the temptation to sell these tickets for ten times the price is even tougher. The actual face value on the tickets that one would pay if they got them in the lottery, is generally like ten or fifteen dollars.

So anyways my friend Miou (it is pronounced like Meow) went to the Gold Medal soccer game with me, and man was it a blast. There were two drunk Americans sitting one row over to the left who were hysterical. These guys were draped in an American flag, and when one of the guys noticed that I had finished my beer he demanded that I take one of his. I was reluctant to do so, until I saw that this immoral drinking duo had about fifteen beers underneath their seats. I jokingly asked if he had enough beers, and he said..."enough... we've got a freekin' brewery over here." It was also refreshing to deal with Americans who were not completely annoying. Why is it that my country has the worst Olympics fans next to maybe Canada?. The Midwest reflective Oakley-wearing I LOVE THE USA nimrods who make us all look bad with their ignorant paradigm of world domination without understanding are so damn stern. The Americans at the soccer game may have been drunk, but at least they were classy drunks. So anyways, I soon made fast friends with the two Americans, and shortly thereafter the girl who was sitting in front of me (her name is Blessing, which makes me so sad to have an ordinary name, because her name kicks my name's ass) noticed my USC jacket and told me she was currently in school at USC. She got me caught up with all of the current events and stuff, and my seat felt more like a spot on a friend's couch than a seat at a Chinese stadium.


As far as the game goes, the American women played so well. I thought the Brazilians were a little better since they have this superstar named "Marta" who is ten times better than everybody else. But the goalie for the states was a brick wall, and in overtime USA pulled it out. Great game! Oh, and the man sitting next to Blessing was wearing purple croc's with stars on them, and when he was applauding I got a picture of them. May have been my highlight of the game.

I miss the Olympics,

matt