Spouse: ACK! Look at those guys. No man with any self respect gets up in front of the whole world in a speedo, with another guy in a matching speedo, and jumps, in unison. Is a public embarrassment.
Beeswax: Is not a public embarrassment. They are Olympic athletes! Those guys could go home with a gold medal, which is more than you've got.
Spouse: Okay, sure, but when they go home and their friends see the medal hanging on the bathroom doorknob, and are like "whadidya get your gold in, man?" That guy's going to say DIVING, not SYNCH DIVING. Or he's gonna say SWIMMING, not SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING.
What? Men's synchro was just a SNL skit, right? Not real? Cause, I totally need to Tivo it, if it's real. It would probly look like a SNL skit:
I might actually like it. I pretty much LOVE men's gymnastics. The men's all-around final in Athens when Paul Hamm won the Gold was maybe the best, most exciting hour of sport I have even seen (from my couch) in my life. (Right up there with the time on Survivor All-Stars when Richard wrestled, bit and killed the nurse shark, then served it up for lunch to his hungry teammates. Okay, fine, that might not be a sport.) I was actually on my feet, weeping, at the end. I wasn't pregnant, either. When I'm pregnant, I cry over everything. My tears don't count for much. I might even cry over, say, something like this:
When I tell you the Paul Hamm Gold Medal Evening was the most exciting sporting event I've ever witnessed, well, you might have forgotten that I was in the 3rd row, right behind the vault (but in front of Jimmy Conners), when this occurred, in Los Angeles in 1984:
And that was pretty cool. I told you about it before, I think. Mary Lou sweated on me a little bit?
Spouse continued about the diving guys (are we still talking about them?): How can this continue to be an Olympic sport, when baseball is not, Beeswax? C'mon! It's DUDES in matching speedos.
Now, Jake is pretty obviously pretty ticked that Olympic Baseball got the ax. No more baseball after Beijing. As far as I can tell, though, Jake and Fidel Castro are the only ones really worked up about it. Fidel is really super, extra ticked off with the "rich and powerful masters of the Games" who voted it out. He and Jake are totally in accord on this one. Pretty soon one of them will start muttering something about Frenchies under his breath. Jake, more likely.
Somebody out there likes the divers, though. My Mom says she watches them all. Loves them. Is mesmerized by their marvelous synchonicity.
See, Jake loves baseball. His Grandpa George Binger was even on the U.S Exhibition Baseball Team for the World Exposition in London in 1938. Or something like that. Please correct if I am wrong. So, his family has been trying to support Baseball in the Olympics for 80 years now. I'm not sure exactly what sorta bee got in Fidel's bonnet. I think he just wants more potential opportunities to pound on the United States with baseball bats. He's not going to be able to hide any weapons on his athletes while they are wearing only this:
I mean, these poor guys are busy just keeping all the luggage on board. If you know what I mean.
Wink.I should really never blog about sports. It makes me sound like an idiot. When Jake and I play Trivial Pursuit on the X-Box, I go around and get all my pie pieces but one, Sports and Leisure; then, I spend the rest of the time while Jake catches up hoping to get a Leisure question instead of Sporting one (cause I actually know more about mixed drinks than I do Sports, and as you know, I am a teetotaller, except, totally no tea, either. Except herbal). Then, when we are neck and neck, he gives me more sports questions for the final one at the end. They are never questions on Mary Lou Retton or Paul Hamm. Is totally unfair. Finally, Jake gives me a History question, and lets me win.
Then, I gloat a lot, cause I love to win Trivial Pursuit. It supports my secret theory that I am awesome and smart, and that Mensa is going to call me any day now, just begging me to join up. And I will turn them down, because in addition to being awesome and smart, I am also terribly humble, and joining brainiac societies sounds pretty uppity, dontcha know? But the point, of course, is they totally want me. So, there in my mind, I'm awesome, brilliant, humble, and popular with my mental cohort. Oh and gorgeous, cause on the day they called, I am having the best hair day. Only, then I think maybe I've gone too far. Cause Mensa members probably don't care about good hair days. They probably are just brainy, and not well-rounded like I am. Except that I don't know any sports trivia. But you don't need any sports trivia knowledge to be in Mensa. Everybody knows that.
I really shouldn't talk about Fidel, either. He might send his brainwashed operatives after me, Frank Sinatra-in-the-Manchurian-Candidate-style. Only, brainwashed in Spanish, not Korean, obviously.
Then Jake starts talking again (Is he asking me to play Trivial Pursuit? No?): Look, now those divers go shower together and sit in the hot tub in their speedos. It's embarrassing, I tell ya. What kind of Olympic sport gets hot tubs? Where are the waiters with the pina coladas?
Beeswax: MMMM. I want a hot tub and a Pina Colada.