Tales from Torino, Part 7
by Laura Fawcett |
I'm not sure quite how to take that. I guess I'd rather be a deflated balloon than an inflated one. But if I look anything like I feel then well, O.K., deflated balloon it is.
Physical exhaustion has hit. I've only been awake today for eight hours and I can barely keep my eyes open. It's like I have two dead weights hanging on my eyelids.
There's a place in the media center that gives free shiatsu massages from 3-8 p.m. every day. The first time I went, it was the first week here, and it was just a cool thing. You know, ‘Wow! Free massages!”
This time I fell asleep in the waiting area. Kind of embarrassing. However, it is good to know no one took my spot in line while I was sleeping.
It's been a long time since I've written anything. I started writing a blog right smack in the middle of original dance. We were all so excited about how the OD would play out since the compulsories were so close. Then there was the final group splatfest.
I tell you, that had everybody abuzz. There are a lot of novice skating reporters here, and they all wanted to know how often three couples fell like that. And then there was “the stare.” Yes, Barbara Fusar-Poli and Maurizio Margaglio did provide one of the most memorable moments of Games figure skating-wise. So much so, that after the event, when it was being replayed on the monitors in the venue media room, a group of about 10 reporters gathered in the media lounge to watch again. Really. It was like “Hey, the Italians are on.” And everybody went running.
The stare down and the dramatic gestures in the kiss and cry by Fusar-Poli just made really entertaining TV. At the same time, you have to feel bad for them, and others like Marie-France Dubreuil and Patrice Lauzon, who saw their chances of a medal disappear in the span of few seconds.
We went to the bronze medal women's hockey game on Monday night. The most disappointing thing to me was the difference in security at the hockey arena compared to the Palavela. We walked right on up to the media area and just toodled around without anyone checking our credentials once.
At figure skating I can't walk five feet without getting my credential checked again. Why is this? Is it a statement on the nature of the sport? Can't be, because the Palavela is also locked down during short track. Just random differences in security at different venues? Probably.
It's just really difficult to know what to expect, which I think is what frustrates me the most. Sometimes I have to open my computer and turn it on when I go through security, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I have to show my ticket at figure skating and sometimes I don't. (All figure skating events are ticketed for the media, so you can't just be media and get in, you have make it on the list to get a coveted ticket.)
That's what is most irritating. I don't mind security, but I do think it's better when you know what to expect every time. No surprises, no differences.
Random Thoughts
I did give some pins to some polizia at “mag and bag.” They were so excited they forgot to say “grazie.” At least, that's what I'm telling myself.
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While I'm food … what is the strange fascination with Ritz crackers in Torino? Or is it Italy in general? You buy them by the box at concession stands … yes, I'd like a Coke and a box of Ritz. And they're smaller-sized Ritz … not mini-Ritz, just smaller. I've also discovered “Freeky Fries,” basically freeze-dried french fries in a bag. Pretty good.
And today, my roommate Melissa Scott took me as a guest to Nike House. It was a dream come true. They had potatoes and turkey. Heaven! Potatoes! Turkey! Something that isn't pizza!
The Palavela had a free buffet with free wine for all the media last night after the ladies short program. There's another weird thing. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with media drinking on the job here. I'm not making judgment either way, just saying cultural differences are quite interesting sometimes.
The mixed zone continues to be crazy at the Palavela. Over the weekend, the USOC provided us with a mini voice amplifier to try out. It looks like a portable karaoke machine. It's been a hit with the media because it's so much easier to hear the voices, and we even got a little “Copacabana” out of Jamie Silverstein.
Did I ever tell you guys that the toilet in our hotel room is running nonstop? Yep. It's one of those things where you only think about it at night when you are trying to sleep, so in three weeks I've never reported it to hotel management. I just turn off the water every night.
We have Italian cell phones. About a week in, we learned about a way we could have the voice menu speak English instead of Italian. I chose not to do it (O.K., I never got around to it.). To me, it's like an Italian language learning aid. I've learned numbers, what number to press for help, to change my greeting, etc. I can even write phone numbers down in Italian without needing a translation.
My dad sent me the correct pronunciation of “Lingotto.” I used it for the first time today and never even got a second glance from the taxi driver. Maybe he even thought I was Italian I said it so well!
Last but not least, you need to know about the slot machine port-a-potties.
Port-a-potties here are just not the same. In America you just, well, you know what you do. But here, there's not a gaping hole but a rotating metal plate. To “flush” you have to crank a slot machine handle a few times. I'm not kidding.
Next time I might run out screaming, “I hit the jackpot!”
