Inevitably, there are a few things that happen every year when the Olympics are on.
1. I cry.
Really? Is anyone surprised at this? I cry at commercials, so an athlete overcome with emotion over an exciting win or loss is just asking for me to lose it. Oh and parents crying??? Bring me the tissues because that's just asking for the floodgates to be opened.
Me every single time. |
2. I think I know everything about every single sport.
Don't we all? It's amazing. I can't do a cartwheel, but you better believe I (and everyone else on Facebook) knows everything about gymnastics. Vault? Yup. Bars? Absolutely. Floor Routine? For sure. The fact that half of the commentary we're listening to is in German and I don't understand a word just allows me to believe that all of my critiques are absolutely correct and I know absolutely everything about every single sport.
The look on my face every time a judge gives a less than perfect score to the United States. |
3. I want to know everything about every athlete.
Right now, my Google searches consist of "Best (insert type of food) in Berlin" and every single American Olympic athlete. I want to know where their from, their workout routine, their siblings and pets names, and their favorite ice cream flavor. Never mind that I would be completely start struck if I ever actually got to meet them, knowing their favorite ice cream flavor is obviously going to be useful when we become best friends.
When does internet stalking become an Olympic Sport? |
4. I judge the equestrian events based on the horses.
Let's just be honest, by the time you get to the Olympics, you're good. You're really really good. Unless you knock a pole over while jumping or your horse gets scared at a camera (never mind they weigh 1500 lbs, that camera is SCARY!), they all look pretty much the same to me. Therefore, the only thing I have to judge you on is what your horse looks like. I'm partial to chestnuts, so they're automatically going to get a medal in my book, but give me a good bay and you've got some serious competition.
Some may call it a regional horse show with no qualifying events, I call it the Olympics with the cutest chestnut horse ever to be. |
While this year's viewing has proved a little more challenging due to time zone constraints and language barriers, Mike and I have persevered and we are just waiting for a complaint from our neighbors that our shouts of "STICK THE LANDING!" and "USA! USA! USA!" have awoken the sleeping baby next door.
Happy Olympics viewing, everyone! May all the judges agree with your scores because we all know that you really are the expert in every sport, not the judges and athletes :)
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