Every four years, a tremendous amount of energy and effort is focused on proving that gravity still works. It's the winter Olympics.
Then again, consider the political ramifications of these global get-togethers. When else is so much red-faced, chest-pounding nationalism tolerated by educated men and women? And the winter Olympics often turn the stage of history over to less kick-ass countries than the USA, for their own fleeting moment in the limelight of some arcane cold-weather competence. In non-Olympic years, our Scandinavian friends normally have to settle for the dry-humping honor of having the world's highest standard of living. At Nagano, the stoic Norwegians, Swedes, Danes, and Finns revel in the brute joy of heavy medal plunder.
After last week's marijuana fiasco, it's still not entirely clear whether Ross Rebagliati and his snowboarding buds prefer Acapulco or Nagano Gold. They've been understandably conflicted about the Olympics. On the one hand, snowboarders are natural show-offs, and crave the attention. On the other hand, they wouldn't want any part of such a dweebish circle-jerk. But with a hog-tied International Olympic Committee and a brow-beaten International Ski Federation, snowboarders can have their bong and smoke it too, at least this time around. When the smoke finally cleared on the Ross "Second Hand Toke" Rebagliati affair, and the IOC was in a position to "send a message to the world's children," here's what they seem to have come up with: As long as you're not doing steroids or compromisingyour gender, go ahead and knock yourself out. Is it too late to move the 2002 Olympics to Amsterdam?
By virtue of its dirt-bag skateboarding origins, snowboarding has long been associated with other scofflaw backcountry shenanigans like rodeo and polygamy. But with the morbidity of alpine skiers climbing as high as the treeline, and projections that 9 out of 10 lift tickets will be sold to snowboarders within a decade, it's no wonder the IOC dodged this bullet just to get kicked in the ass. Factoring out stupidity and dumb luck, there's no doubt about it - Sonny Bono and Michael Kennedy got blindsided by the '90s. Snowboarding has arrived.
And if you were wondering how snowboarding made it into the Olympics without ever suffering the indignity of being an "exhibition sport," look at this way: Ice fishing, broomball, and sidewalk shoveling just don't sell wallet chains, wrap-arounds, and baggies the way 'boarding does. (Conversely, times have certainly changed. How on earth did Biathlon - skiing with guns, for chrissake - ever make it onto the agenda?)
Indeed, the arrival of snowboarding and women's hockey proves nothing so much as it proves the power of marketing. Ten years ago, the skiing and hockey establishments were guessing how many times hell would have to freeze over before snowboarders would be allowed on ski slopes, and women would be allowed in shin pads. Moribund equipment sales through the late '80s, coupled with a half-dozen Title IX lawsuits, changed their minds faster than you can say "Scott Hamilton's a dork."
Speaking of Hamilton (a man with a perfect face for radio), the presence in Nagano of this medalist-cum-TV commentator underscores an Olympic truism: When it comes to the modern games, it's important to distinguish the Olympiad from what passes for media coverage of same. If there was any doubt about CBS' incompetence in sharing its moment with the world, the Assumption of MTV's Kennedy to straight journalist in a blue CBS parka is surely a harsh toke of reality. The un-credible Ms. Montgomery has been used sparingly; after all, hipster chits are one thing, but Nielsens are quite another. Ultimately, CBS doesn't want to mess with American soccer moms. This persistent and powerful demographic is still less interested in sport, demanding to know which competitors labor under a heavy yoke of personal tragedy, romantic incontinence, or bloated expectations. Does it surprise anyone that the ad companies have covered the events more credibly than the "journalists"?
Call it the soap quotient. Ever since Kerrigan versus Harding, skating has figured as one of the most popular events in all of sports broadcasting. And if not for the extended and mind-numbing personal profiles of Russian, Ukranian, and Belarussian ice queens, American moms would switch to Seinfeld reruns faster than you can say "Scott Hamilton is a cancer survivor. But he's still a dork." The wide-open crotch shots - always de rigueur with judges and spectators alike - are a bonus for the rest of us.
No, if there's anything to be learned from the global spectacle of the 1998 winter Olympics (besides the fact that you can get high just hanging with the right mix of friends), it's this one potentially revolutionary insight: Canada may be a lot mellower than we thought. At this point, we can only hope for their sake that the next winter Olympics will bring not only the half-pipe competition, but the one-hitter, the monster bowl, and the super bong. Talk about performance enhancement. Who would have guessed that snowboards cut such a fine figure on snow and grass?
Send email to The Sucksters.
This article appeared originally in Suck.
