Olympic Events: A Pictorial, Pt. 1
Swordfighting! Well, sort of. I mean dudes up there ain't exactly Wesley and Mandy Patinkin from The Princess Bride. If anything, they're most like the Archduke of Wales and his inbred cousin having a quaint match before the Royal Court is in session, and that's kinda sorta lame. I mean, if you're going to have swordfighting, man, motherfucking have swordfighting!!! Put them on a sinking pirate ship and let 'em run around all crazy! Swords so sharp, they cut the fabric of time and space! No pansy-ass robot bee-keeper masks! If someone loses an eye, that's THEIR problem (and the ratings will go bananas). The Gold goes to which ever homeslice walks off the pirate ship covered in blood and hyperventilating like a solider about to storm a Nazi bunker. Silver and Bronze medals are buried with the guys who still have most of their limbs attached. Now THAT'S an event worth watching. Two wimps in white capri pants parry-thrust-parrying like at each other like rich people trying to avoid breaking a sweat... not so much.
You'd think America would have this one locked down, seeing as how we invented the game and all, but you'd be dead, stinkin' wrong. You know who's the current medal leader in Baseball? Cuba. Followed by Japan. We are a shame-faced third, kids. At BASEBALL!!! Babe Ruth is rolling around in his hot dog-filled, chocolate-and-beer-flavored grave! Now, granted, the US team is comprised mainly of our nation's finest minor leaguers and assorted college tip-tops... what I mean is, it's not like Derek Jeter and Albert Pujols and Ryan Howard are out there knockin' dingers into the upper deck or anything. Our best guys are pros, and therefore ineligible, so we've got to rely on a bunch of skinny nerds who've seen Bull Durham too many times and think their fucking Nuke LaLoosh. Meanwhile, Cuba and Japan are training baseball players FROM BIRTH to knock bloops into shallow left and throw 95-mile-an-hour heat and run the bases with mathematical precision and control the flight and trajectory of the ball with their minds (okay, that last one hasn't been proven...yet). HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO COMPETE WITH THAT??? Well, obviously, we need to hire some fake-mustached college kids named Blalex Brodriugez and Bladamir Buerrero and Bavid Bortiz. Otherwise, it's another Bronze medal, which might as well be our country's flag, on fire.
If I didn't have photographic evidence that this is a real event, I wouldn't believe it. And, truthfully, I'm not 100% convinced that this isn't just a clever Photoshopping job. Because, seriously... jumping on a trampoline? For an Olympic medal? FUCKING REALLY? If this is in fact an actual thing, then I should have earned my sweet Texas ass a Gold when I was eleven years old and busting out double-backflips-to-a-butt-drop in my grandparent's back yard. And, I'm sorry, but if they're not doing that thing where you bounce right next to your friend for extra height on your jump, then they've completely missed the point of trampolining and should be collectively called into the house for supper. What else from my childhood can we pretend is an actual athletic event? Olympic Freeze Tag? Red Rover? Capture the Flag (actually, that would be kind of sweet)?
Now THIS is an Olympic sport. You've got to, like, ride a bike for a long time and then you've got to run through the city and then I think you've got to fight a bear or something (not entirely sure). It takes skill and stamina and the ability to fend off clawed swipes to the head. Other words, you've got to be an ATHLETE. Unlike in some other events... *coughTRAMPOLININGcough* You can't train for the Triathlon by getting all gooned on Kool-Aid at your awesome aunt's house and goofing around with your cousin until it gets too dark to see the springs on the side. You have like do sit-ups and stuff. And I guess you should fight a series of progressively larger bears until, you know, you get to the Olympic-sized bears. Grizzlies or whatever.