Swifter, Higher, Hotter

On Friday, I checked off another bucket list item: attend an Olympic sporting event.  I had decided on volleyball of the indoor variety because it is faster, more offensively variable, and eliminated the risk of pissing rain in England.  I was holding out hope for the men’s competition because they do things like this (listen to the sound of the ball; average Olympic men’s player goes between 50-80mph), this, and this guy (remember, net is 8 ft high).  However, the Olympic ticketing process is a bit like a swingers party: you know what you like, but you settle for what you get and have a good chance of getting screwed.  However, I got a pretty good compromise: women’s indoor volleyball.  I saw group play: in first match we had China vs Brazil, and second match was Russia vs Japan.  The second match was a bit of a David vs Goliath: Russia’s average height was 6’2.5″, and they featured this woman, while Japan’s average height was 5’6″.  It was like watching a Shiba Inu (awesome looking dog, by the way) take on a Great Dane.  Needless to say, the Russians won.  The crowds were not as exciting, either, with few Russian fans in attendance and the Japanese fans’ reactions muted by lots of sport coats and demure women.

Which brings us to a great experience, Brazil vs China.  Both teams are very good, with Brazil being the defending Olympic champions.  Both teams brought some serious representation in the fan department, with China out-manning Brazil maybe 58/42. Both fan groups yell indecipherable gibberish ending with their country names, but the Chinese were incessant.  But all the yelling in the world couldn’t make the Chinese players better than the Brazilian players.  It was a taught five-setter (it wasn’t the waxing I was hoping for), with Brazil choking away the fourth set after going up 24-20 (they play to 25, needing a two-point margin, capped at 30).  The fans were screaming the entire time, flags waving like hell, jeering (other countries do a derisive whistle to show disapproval; it is great to sit in the middle of the sound raining down), and awkward Chinese men running around everywhere juxtaposed against hot Brazilian wives and players.  The whole event left me both satisfied and wanting more.  Some other notes on attending the event:

• Did you know the Olympics have cheerleaders?  They were 11-16 year old British tweens (note: tan skin not a requirement) who do rudimentary arm movements to American hip-hop hooks.  Note: British people LOVE Wiz Khalifa.  I found the use of “Black and Yellow” at a Chinese match a little questionable, plus the Nelly Furtado “Maneater” refrain a bit much for a women’s match in general.  Lastly, it is incredibly awkward seeing 14yr-old British girls dancing to this unedited refrain, doing the exact opposite of it.
• Volleyball is funny, as it is a sport whose entire authoritarian class is dressed like embarrassing Dads.  All the coaches and refs wear polo shirts un/tucked into track pants.  I kept expecting players getting substituted to yell at the coaches, “UGH!!! YOU ALWAYS DO THIS IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS!!!!”
• Could you imagine how much money Queen could have made if they got royalties from sporting events?  “We Will Rock You”, “We Are the Champions “, and “Another One Bites the Dust” are all arena staples, apparently everywhere in the world.  Somewhere, Freddie Mercury is looking down (or up, if you are the founder of Chik-Fil-A), smiling, and flossing with fishing line.
• Odd phenomenon on the Brazilian women’s team: boob jobs.  I was devastated to learn my official crush of the games, Paula Pequeno, had been augmented.  At first you think, “Damn, Brazil brings it.”  Then you realize that highly active women probably shouldn’t be that shapely.  Then you stumble on this web site and your world comes crashing down.
• One thing I will never understand: athletes who play in jewelry.  Football players wearing diamond studs, golfers wearing watches, tennis players in necklaces, baseball players with all kinds of items hanging off of them, and volleyball players with all of the above (OK, no watches).  I cannot understand how people can play at a high level with all of that stuff on them.  I barely like playing in a shirt, so adding items seems like it would cause one to fidget, or worse, maybe even injury.  Plus, why risk breaking the jewelry?  I say we go back to the origins of the games, naked competition in the Greek Coliseum.  And we should start with the Brazilian women’s volleyball team.

Keep calm, and carry on.