Thoughts from the Field

THE WALKWAY BETWEEN THE TWO BUILDINGS & ONLY A FEW SMOKERS OUT THERE TONIGHT (figure skating is going on, they're smoking outside that building now)

While I can't take credit for this, it's got a tongue-in-cheek truthful ring to it.

*No matter what time you go into the bathroom at the Main Media Center there will always be someone coming out of that small door at the same time. Or vice versa. There is a rumor that there are people living in two of the stalls. They are never open. (MY SIDEBAR: Additionally, no matter the time of day, if you have to go really, really, really bad, the bathrooms are closed for cleaning. Noon, midnight, 10:35.18, whenever. If you're ready to burst you'll have to find one through the smoking hall)

*There’s also a rule that smokers can’t be more than two feet from the swinging glass doors between pavilions 3 and 5.

*A police car set a new speed record between pavilions 3 and 5 yesterday hitting 63 kilometers per hour. 28 smokers were almost injured, three of them children.

*Somebody subtly changes the directions of the escalators in the Main Media Center each day. However, during lunch, they are turned off.

*The return media bus from Ice Hockey got lost the first day and is still on a round about on Via Nizza avenue. There are hockey writers on that bus that think they are going to a U.S.-Canada gold medal game.

*Journalists in the mountains are on a different planet. Torino and Sestriere are the alpha and the omega of experiences.

White Night

ME & KATE POSING LIKE THE STATUES BEHIND US. I KNOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A WHITE NIGHT, BUT THERE WAS LITTLE LIGHT FOR OUR PICS

So the Italians have this thing in Rome one night every September that's translated to "White Night." Last Saturday Torinos decided it would be great to have one here during the period of the Games. The theory behind this event is that shops and restaurants are to stay open all night long, all the lights in the city are kept on and the night is no longer dark.

It's fun! It's Festive! Or not.

We headed down to where some friends were hanging out, drinking beers and people watching. When we got there and ordered beer for ourselves we were told "Basta!" That's one of my favorite Italian phrases (it means 'enough' and you do it with your hands out and palms open almost as if you're pushing something and in a loud voice). Last call. At 1:00 a.m. Not good. We have our beer and depart, thinking that perhaps we'll go to the Swiss House. Afterall, Kate was just there and knows EXACTLY where it is. Or not. Kate's friends departed leaving her, me and Charlie left to wander the streets in hopes of some food and drink. But, since everything was supposed to remain open through the night -- it's White Night you know -- it shouldn't be a problem.

After walking aimlessly down one street and up the next, we realize that Kate has little to no idea of where she was when she at the Swiss House. So we proceed to look for a restaurant. Herein lies the rub. White Night? Everything open until 6:00 a.m.? Are you kidding me!?!? This was a bad joke meant to bring out hundreds of thousads of people down into an area roughly the size of Acacia Park. We wandered in circles, covering each and every street in the downtown area until about 2:30. Shops? Closed. Restaurants? Closed. Neidermeyer? Dead.

We finally decide to head towards the train station. Surely something's open near there, right? As a sidebar: every block I hear Charlie's voice telling me that,"hey, there's a cab stand" or "there's another taxi." Something tells me he was tired and wanted off this ride. Did I mention all the people? Many drunken soccer hooligans also. One came up and tried to kiss me, but Kate and Charlie pulled him away ... or just stood there and laughed. It's not hard to figure out which direction they took!

We found a little coffee shop that was packed, but I managed to find a table while Kate and Charlie managed to purchase saandwiches for each of us. They would have been great cooked, but the little man behind the counter must have had a good laugh when they simply brought the un-panino'd (as in cold, not toasted) sandwiches back to the table.

Our gourmet experience behind us, it was now time to figure out how to get back home. Kate lives on that street so she ended up walking since now there were NO cabs to be seen and about 500,000 people trying to jam onto the buses and trams (think 4th of July following the fireworks on the National Mall). But wait! There's a media shuttle! Sitting there across the street!!! YES!!!!!! So we got back to the MPC, caught a cab and I was in my room with my head on my pillow a little after 4 a.m. Several other people from our office decided to experience a little Italian culture that night also, but it took them until 5 a.m. to get home. Turns out there were a lot of reporters who got sucked into the whole "White Night, everything's open until dawn" scamp. It certainly made for a quiet morning in the MPC.

Walking to New Orleans (not really)

In the media goodie bag we got at the beginning of the Games was a cheapie pedometer, compliments of that great health-conscious eatery, McDonald's. (Note to readers: I do not condone the eating of that greasy crap. I eat fast food about twice a year -- the last time being in Argentina back in August. Nasty. Gross. I'd rather starve than punish my system with 'food' that has been processed and frozen five months ago in a factory somewhere in Iowa.) I've put the pedometer on every day for the past couple of weeks and my record so far was 28,000 and change (see my future note on the White Night for why it was so high). I've broken 20k one other time and was close to 19k yesterday. For the most part, my steps hover around 12-15k per day. That's a lot of steppin folks! I've decided that when I return to the States a couple months from now I will purchase a decent pedometer and track my daily steps. I haven't had a chance to run except for one day, but if I'm walking that much there should be no need to hit the running trail!

Bonnie Blair Tried to Kill Me

Ok, well ... sort of. So I'm standing at a light at a very busy intersection trying to cross the street. I keep looking and waiting and looking and waiting when I hear a Wisconsonesque woman's voice behind me saying, "I think we can go now."

So I start to cross and she's right next to me when we get about halfway across the intersection and THE CARS START COMING STRAIGHT FOR US!!!! Yeah, not so good. We make a mad dash to the other side and as I'm feeling as if I've just won the top level of Frogger, having been missed by a killing machine by just a hair, this woman turns to me, puts out her hand and says, "hi! I'm Bonnie Blair!" To which I reply and give her my name. We shake hands and, since she's been tailing me since the USA House a few blocks back and knows I'm somehow related to the team, she proceeds to ask what I'm doing, etc. And we have a lovely conversation. It's as if we've known each other for years in that brief blip of time. I guess when you go through a near-death experience with someone else you'll always have some kind of connection. At least that's what I'm going to tell myself.

Playing Catch Up

NOTE: Most of this was written on my Blackberry while heading around town last night and then updated / added to this morning, which is why the tenses keep changing...The image, however, is from my day in the village last week.
So I've broken away from the MPC and was going to go downtown, walk around and see if I could do some interviews. However, because I tend to sometimes change my mind about things (spontaniety is a good thing!), and the #18 tram happened to stop directly in front of me going in the direction of the 4 & 63 lines, which run right past the hockey arena where the USA chicks with sticks are currently in semifinal action...take a wild guess at what I did?! Yup, I'm on the tram headed for hockey. So far I've seen (live) too many press conferences, aerials, speed skating and figure skating. I suppose it's time to add another sport to my line-up.

More on this later...first I feel I must tell all about my last few days and other oddities.

First...the bathrooms in the mpc. The way they're set up is such that both men & women pass through the same doorway and about 3 feet of a 'hallway.' Then women turn left and men turn right into their respective rooms. Then you pass the sinks and make a u-turn around a wall to go to the stalls. Not noteworthy. However, on the way back out you stop to wash your hands and check yourself out in the mirror. At least that's what most women do. Come to find out that if I glance to my left while washing, I see that men do it also. A little window into another world. It's pretty humorous to see men looking at themselves, making sure their hair is in place -- especially those who have but a scant few hairs on their noggins.

Next... About 4 nights after getting here I moved hotels. Good move, bad move. I now have my own room, although I had a good roomie before, but now I also have HOT water for morning showering! Crazy. Bad move because the place is not really that nice, the bed is not comfy and every morning for about 20 minutes starting from between 8 & 8:30 there is massive noise from the construction project on the street below. The jackgammers seem to disappear by the time I begin my morning walk to work at 9:30/10 am. They love to wake me up-Italian version of ring and run, perhaps? (SIDE NOTE: I woke up this morning at 8 am and couldn't get back to sleep. It figures that it's the ONE day I've been here that there was NO construction going on.)

So I can catch the media bus home at night, but it doesn't always stop at the hotel in the morning. Being adventurous, the first morning I made my way to the office through the city streets. It looked to be a straight shot north and it was. I didn't even have to consult the map!

The next day I decided to take a little less direct route, but a more scenic one - following the river Po. That was much better and only about 10 minutes longer (45 mins). Since I've only been able to run once since I've been here, a brisk walk is welcome on a daily basis. If not for that, the food would add 10 lbs in three weeks! Yummy!

Walking or running through a city is really a great way to get to know it. I've seen little old ladies in their stockings and furs and little old gentlemen in suits and hats, some of whom remind me of grandpa Pete, walking along the city streets. I've seen fruit stands, bakeries, paper carriers, essentially the hustle and bustle of everyday life in Torino. The path along the river is great. Little kids, barely able to walk, playing soccer with their dads; people running, walking and cycling; others who are out there walking their dogs; still more people doing their morning yoga or other stretching; horses ... pretty much everything you'd find on a path along a river. I have received odd stares b/c I'm walking with my iPod Shuffle, usually singing to myself, with my 'silver bullet' coffee cup filled to the brim with Peet's. They're not wont to drink coffee in anything larger than a thimble (think Jason Lee's coke in Mallrats), so I'm sure they're trying to figure out what I've got in there.

So now I'm back on the bus (14 to the 18 tram) after 2 periods of USA women's hockey team vs Sweden. I saw the first two periods before getting called back to the MPC.Bummer.

I made it back in time to watch the third period, OT & shoot-outs. Not a good finish to the game :-(

It's now Saturday morning and I'm wicked tired. We had a big dinner last night with myself and five friends, including Kate & Spletzer - woo-hoo!! We've found this place that's pretty freakin good about two blocks from the MPC and they have really, really good food. And wine. And lemoncello. That will put a hurtin on you when you're already tired. This was my second really long night here that was long because of me and not because of work. Can't have too many of those, or I'll never make it through the day.

It's finally warmed up here. Good thing, too. I was beginning to wonder about the 2006 Olympic Spring Games. Daffodils are blooming. Birds are chirping. Life is good.
peace

Lost in Translation

I went next door tonight to watch Chad Hedrick and Shani Davis in the 5k long track speedskating event. It was pretty cool. You'd think we were in Holland (Netherlands, whatever) with the sea of orange around the track. In fact, three corners, both 'end zones' and one entire length of ice were filled with orange. I saw an Italian flag here and there, but take my word for it: this place was ORANGE.

So, you're probably wondering why just three corners and one side was orange.

The Olympic Family / bigwigs / sponsors take up most of the space on the finish line side of the oval. The media take up the rest. Media are unbiased observers so they can't wear orange. The members of the bush family in attendance wore dark colors, as did most of the Olympic Family. And the sponsors? They're not big into the rules and regulations of speedskating (Rule No. 1: You Must Wear Orange).

BREAKING NEWS ALERT: News.com mentioned the work we're doing at usolympicteam.com regarding podcasting ... BEFORE NBCOlympics.com or any other site. See? I really AM doing work here!

BACK TO YOUR ORIGINALLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM ...
So these Orange Fans (OFs) made the oval the place to be tonight. In speedskating two athletes skate at the same time, swapping the inner and outer lanes and essentially racing against the clock since their next closest competitor might not be skating at the same time. In one heat there were two Netherlanders. I chose this guy named Sven, since he looked cute and his name was better than his countryman skating alongside him. Turns out Sven is the world record holder in this distance. Every single time Sven and the other guy sweep around the oval you hear loud cheers ring out from the OFs. It's like a loud giant wave, which of course breaks on the sponsors, Olympic Family and media sections...then gets gigantic again two sections beyond where I'm sitting. The amazing thing is that they cheered two heats later when Chad Hedrick was up. He was even going up against a fellow Orange guy, but they STILL cheered him on like madness!

So, we're down to the final heat. There's Chad, safely in the lead .02 of a second off Olympic record time, followed 1.72 seconds later by my boy, Sven, and finally Carl Verheijen (orange, of course) in third place. The final heat features someone from who knows where and an Italian by the name of Enrico Fabris. Enrico doesn't skate very well through his first few laps and doesn't look like he has a medal shot at all. However, with probably 3-4 laps to go he's moved up to 6th place. With one lap to go this cat's in 4th and the Dutch are going NUTS! I'm talking St. Elizabeth-style, certifiably nuts cheering Enrico on. Mind you, if Enrico pulls ahead and onto the podium he'll knock Dutch into 4th. Doesn't matter. Enrico rides the OF wave of emotion to Italy's first medal of the Games -- a bronze -- by a mere .61 of a second ahead of Verjeijen. Wow. And THAT, my friends, is the spirit of the Olympic Games and why I'm a crack-headed junkie of the five-ring circus.

peace out

P.S. As a confused (and extended) post script ... I attended the press conference and we were told that it was going to be held in English. That's the rules. I figured it was just the rules for Sven, who came out first and spoke first. Normally they have translators for international press conference, "but it's Dutch and how many Dutch translators can there be working in Italian Olympic Venues anyway," I think to myself. Sven exits stage right. In comes Enrico. An Italian. Competing in Italy. Winning Italy's first medal at these Games. And he has to attempt to decipher questions in English, translante them to himself, think of his answer, translate that to English and finally give his answer. While Enrico did a phenomenal job of speaking, he's not exceptionally fluent in English (his English is MUCH better than my Italian though). I found it entirely too rude to expect him to speak in a non-native tongue ON HIS HOME SOIL!

It gets worse. One of my scribe friends told me that she attended a presser the day before and the question was asked in Spanish (?) to a Russian. The translator translated the Spanish question to the Russian athlete, who responded in Russian. That, of course, was translated back to the press. Only it was in English. I wonder if anyone bothered to tell the Spanish writer what was said? Perhaps it was better off left lost in translation.

Opening Pagentry

I went to the Opening Ceremonies with a couple other people last night. We arrived at the stadium at about 7:40 and were continuously told to go in different areas - our tickets were in the media seating area and nobody could figure out how to point us in that direction. (No, you go there! No, you can't come through here, try that way.) Well, the next thing you know it's starting and we're in an aisle in the middle of the IOC VIP section (one section from Prince Albert & the drunk Bush daughter, two from Rogge & the Italian prez, etc.) and the volunteer lady tells us to just sit anywhere. There were about three rows up front with nobody sitting in them so we took them and had GREAT seats for the performance.

It was AWESOME! (Did you see us? We were the three in the white rain slickers, you couldn't miss us.) The seats could have been about 4-5 rows further up, but we got the IOC goody bag which was a little different from the bags that were passed out to everyone else in the fact that we got a thick fleece blanket (as others were leaving we could tell that the blankets were NOT passed around to the entire stadium). The blanket came in handy when the temperature dropped 50 or so degrees during the festivities. There was also the cow bell we were to ring at the appropriate time and the flashlight (or torch as they called it) for waving a the appropriate times. It also included a seat cushion (very thin) and the program for the ceremonies.

And then on the way out we were interviewed by Telemundo and then a NBC affiliate out of Portland. When the woman found out we three were from the Springs, she said that KUSA (Denver station) was right behind her and she'd give the feed to them. I was laughing my ass off!!!

Peace

I Got the Golden Ticket!

Woo-hoo!!! I just found out that I'm going to be able to go to the Opening Ceremonies tonight! It's a general admission ticket for press peeps, but it gets me in!!!! Should be a good show. I brought one set each of hand warmers and toe warmers for just this occassion :-)

It's 5:53 now and it's strongly advised that we're there by 6 pm. Hmmm. I think I'll be a few minutes late. But it doesn't actually begin until 8 pm so no worries.

peace out!

P.S. on the non-sun

By the way, no sooner had I posted the last blog when I looked up (ok, walked around the corner and looked out the window ... but who's counting?) and saw that today was a beautiful clear day with sunny blue skies. I think the sun read my blog and got pissed. Apparantly it's not just an orb that passes by and gives us light. It's also big, round and yellow. Who knew?

Torino as Host City

Torino is not what you would expect to see as host of a Winter Olympics. When I think about the Winter Games, I think of tiny little mountain towns nestled deep in the Alps. Something out of Hansel & Gretel. Instead, Torino is an industrialized city of about a million people. The sun has peeked out of the haze and clouds a couple of hours here and there, but for the most part the sky is grey and gloomy, there's a type of cold in the air that sometimes crawls into your skin and stays there (think Right Coast cold) - just enough humidity to make you go "brr." Additionally, the city has a layer of grunge on it that you would expect to see in places like this. The older buildings that were built with a light tan color of stone are now grey to black. I'm hoping the snow will hit sometime down in town here. I'll go up to the mountains a few days for some of the events up there and I'm sure it'll seem more like winter in Sestriere.

Also, all the reports of the place not quite being ready are totally true. But that's the way it is for every Olympics. Heck, pretty much any international event I've attended isn't actually ready until the first ball is tipped, puck is dropped or starting gate crossed. Trust me on this one. I have seen light posts being painted, posters being hung and cement being slopped down. Every single day I see a new piece of signage walking home that wasn't there in the morning on the way to the MPC (Main Press Center).

This morning was the press conference for the 2006 U.S. Olympic Team flag bearer. Chris Witty, a five-time Olympian who has competed in both the summer and winter Olympics, was selected. She was also a victim of child abuse for about seven years starting at four years of age. She now spends time working with "Good Touch, Bad Touch" and making the rounds talking to kids, parents and other groups about the issue. I'd say she was well-chosen by her peers to carry the stars & stripes Friday night.

peace

Five-Minute Strip Down

Aside from the fact that they're smaller, have fewer events and less people, the Winter Olympics are decidedly different from the Summer Games in another aspect: The Five-Minute Strip Down. Going from indoors to outside in the elements forces one to layer. For instance, I've got a long-sleeved t-shirt on right now. Under my work area is a sweater, fleece vest, wind breaker, hat and gloves. Oh yeah, and a scarf (red, of course). At the end of the day when I pack up, I put on all my layers and head to a restaurant. Once I get to a restaurant I can't sit down and relax before I go through the "five-minute strip down." In the summer, the most I would have would be a light jacket that might get put on if I'm inside in an air-conditioned building. That takes about five seconds to remove or put on. Not nearly as fun as the five-minute strip down!

Interviews & Press Conferences

So over the past three days, I've been to numerous press conferences and have learned some nifty tricks regarding editing and posting audio on the web. A few of the files are a little rough around the edges, but I've gotten much better over the course of three days. In addition to the curlers (which I've edited after posting it the first time), I've been able to get interviews with the figure skating pairs team of Aaron Parchem & Marcy Hinzmann, Gretchen Bleiler (boarder), Danny Kass (boarder), Ted Ligety (alpine stud - to hell with that other guy), Anders Johnson (ski jumper), Carl Van Loan (Nordic combined), Shaun White (boarder) and Tyler Jewell (PGS boarder).

It's been pretty interesting sitting in on the press conferences (with many more athletes than listed above). Some of the athletes are very well spoken, some have different cultures (think: figure skating vs. snowboarding) surrounding their sport, some are shy, others are outgoing. The one similarity that courses through all their veins is their passion for competition. Each and every one of them is driven to be the best they can be and are totally stoked to be here. As am I.

I know I never finished up about my travel day, but that was two days ago and I simply can't be bothered to remember what happened Sunday. Except for two things. The first was an observation made as people were boarding the plane in Chicago: I could tell the Americans from the Euros by their attire. One set was fairly chic. The other? Jeans and white shoes. I'll let you figure out which was which. The other thing was the Torino airport's baggage claim. I don't think I've ever seen such a cluster in my entire life. There were gobs and gobs of people everywhere lugging big bags around. And in the middle of it all was a table set up for Olympic credentials and guess where the line formed? Smack dab in the middle of the chaos. Definitely made for great people watching.

Today was the U.S. flag-raising ceremony in the village. This is done with each and every nation and normally several nations take part at the same time. Today they were going every 30 minutes like clockwork. Guess which two countries were with the USA? Armenia and Iran. I got a chuckle out of that. I also ran into a couple of friends who live in Colorado. They were supposed to join me in learning how to telemark this season, but we never were able to hook up on the mountain. We had to come all the way to Italy to bump into each other in Torino.

So far the red wine and Italian food (they just call it food over here) has been outstanding. As if I expected any different - ha!

Peace out for now.

p.s. Here's the Olympic podcast page for your audio pleasure

Smoke 'Em If You Got 'Em (And Even If You Don't)

You sometimes forget that there are a lot of smokers in this world. Until you attend a sporting event. There's no smoking allowed inside the main press center or in any of the arenas. However, every single time I step one foot out the door of the MPC I find myself fighting through a stream of smokers. There is no 50-foot no smoking area, not even a two-foot cushion around the doors. You walk in or out ... you're inhaling. I think I might pick up a pack or two on my way home tonight. Hell, instead I'll just stand in the doorway for a few minutes :-)

Interview with Rock Hurlers

So I show up in Torino and go straight to work. Yes, I am a zombie right now. It's 11:30 Sunday morning in Colorado Springs and I have been, with the exception of about a 15-minute cat nap here and there, up since my alarm went off at 5:00 am on Saturday. We're trying to figure out this audio posting gig, if anyone out there can offer help, give me a shout out.

But until we do, here's an interview I did today with three of the members of the U.S. Women's Olympic Curling Team.

More on the travel day later. Suffice it to say my luck has definitely turned with regards to seatmates on long flights. (Does anyone remember my story about being surrounded by young Mormons trying to convert me en route to their mission in South America on my short 11-hour hop to Argentina last summer!?). Here's a start. I'm on the aisle of a five-rower. There's a German couple taking up the two seats at the other end of the row. Along comes a woman with an infant, a toddler and something so odorous clinging to her body that I think she's got a dead skunk in her bag. And guess what? Oh yeah. Right next to me. Put the baby in a car seat carrier on the floor in front of her for take-off. Flight attendants didn't like that one bit. I'm reeling from the smell that manages to permeate my nostrils, which are stuffed up beyond belief, when I happen to glance to my right and am staring straight at the woman's ... nipple.

It was less than six inches away from my face. Not exactly what I was expecting to see. Mind you, I know it's a natural thing and babies must eat, I just wasn't ready to see it so up close and personal.

And that was just the first 30 minutes of what would be the smelliest 8.5 hours in a plane I've ever encountered.

I'll check back in tomorrow for the rest of the day's adventures :-)
Peace

Italy or Japan?

Ok, I just heard some disturbing news. It seems that restaurant in the hotel I'm staying in for the first week in Torino has its bathroom out back. Hmmm. Out back. I've seen places all over Europe where you have to leave the joint to use the facilities. So that's not so bad. But the fact that it's a hole in the ground? Literally a HOLE. I've been to China and Japan and seen my share of squatty toilets. I've looked into the eye of the beast during hut trips in the back country and at the base of Pete's Express lift at Vail. But in Italy? This should be interesting. I hear the food at the restaurant is pretty tasty though, at least I've go that going for me.
Peace