In my last effort I weighed in on the dangers of sending our athletes into the den of muddy waters and Zika mosquitoes. I was in a hold-your-breath mode the first day, but as the events unfolded I noticed I was the only one paranoid over the safety of the athletes.
I was a little alarmed when they pictured how the algae took over the diving pools overnight because of a broken filter. About the same time I saw an advertisement of how scientists are working on a new fossil fuel made from algae. I’m thinking that they should send somebody down to Rio with a mason jar to scoop up a little water from the pool and bring it back for research.
On the subject of water, they had a little trouble with the start of the 10-kilometer swim. The dock where the event was to start was washed away by a combination of wind and rain. No worries, the swimmers swam out to a certain point designated for the start and took off when they heard the gun. This is when things got interesting. It looked like MMA in the water. It seemed to me it may be a little difficult to swim when someone is punching you in the face.
I got hooked on beach volleyball, and so did some of our basketball team members. Kevin Durant and some of the gang were at court side cheering like they were in high school. I enjoyed the matches and came to the conclusion that with that ball coming at you at speeds up to 100 miles per hour, I would have to call in sick.
I smelled a rat when Ryan Lochte reported that he and some of his teammates were robbed. As the story unfolded from day to day I wondered if this isn’t a story for daytime TV. Each day there was a new chapter.
To top things off, there was a small insertion of media people being escorted around wearing bulletproof vests (I told them to stay home).
I watched a small portion of the women’s basketball and got a real chuckle out of my wife. The U.S. women were playing China and the score was 60-15 at halftime. My wife being used to little league rules from following my grandson, John, and his crew blurted out, “Don’t they have a mercy rule?” “afraid not”.
It has been obvious for years that at any distance over a mile all you have to do is pencil in the name of one of the African runners and move on to the next event.
I ran a little track back in the day, and I can tell you if these runners spent as much time falling back then they would be picking gravel cinders out of their knees and elbows for days. A lot of Band-Aids were used in those days. Another thing that took me back to my day is the false start rule. It started with each runner allowed one false start and, if a second occurred, he or she was out of the race. Then it was updated to any false start was charged to the entire field and the runner who violated after that was disqualified. Now you are one and done. This left Mrs. L mumbling about how unfair this was after all those years of training.
When I first saw Usain Bolt win his first gold years ago, I had visions of Ben Johnson who was caught juicing and disqualified. Since then I have watched Bolt very closely and have come to the conclusion that there ain’t nothing in your medicine cabinet (short of rocket fuel) that can put that kind of speed in a human. This has to be God’s work.
Well, I guess I was wrong about the perils of Rio (I still wouldn’t go into the water), so all I could say is “Go USA!”