Of Course I'm Right The One Time I Don't Want To Be

I'm sure you all fondly recall Saturday when I stated my big concern with Canada facing the U.S. in today's Gold Medal Game because I didn't think the Americans could knock off a more talented Canadian team on its own soil.

Well, I was right. In heart-breaking fashion.

I don't know how exactly to quantify or describe all of the emotions and tensions that came throughout what was, without question, one of the greatest hockey games I've ever watched, but I'm going to try. Sort of.

This game was played with the type of taut atmosphere you find in Stanley Cup Finals and Super Bowls. In fact, Super Bowl XLII was the last time I recalled being as emotionally involved or excited in a sporting event. I spent much of the afternoon gnawing on fingernails and sitting with nervous energy. I was unable to sit near the end of the third period and when Zach Parise tied the game with 24.4 seconds remaining the outburst of joy was not only palpable but loud. Very.

This was a game that created that type of atmosphere and bred that emotion, and what may have been most remarkable about it, was that nearly everyone I knew, for whatever reason, couldn't stop watching despite however high or low their fandom might be. In fact, my friend Jenn, who aside from attending a Bruins-Devils game with me in Boston a year ago, has almost never talked with me about hockey, was mentioned on that bastion of hockey news known as BBC Sport for her opinion on the game (see 1320).

In spite of falling behind by two goals, I was never convinced the U.S. was out of the game, if for no other reason than their consistent, attacking forecheck was bound to break for them at some point. That break happened when Ryan Kesler, who continued to inspire anger amongst the Vancouver faithful, deflected a shot from the point in the second period to make it 2-1.

What followed in the third period was nearly 20 minutes of angst as the Canadians played one of their few strong third periods of the tournament, keeping the U.S. at bay and very nearly breaking the game open on more than one occasion. While Canada didn't pepper Ryan Miller like it did a week ago, were it not for his stellar play -- he would be named tournament MVP afterwards -- this game would have been over far earlier. But Miller kept it close long enough just in time for Parise to force the extra session, and it seems dramatically unfortunate that the one soft goal Miller gave up the entire tournament happened to be the game-winner from Sidney Crosby, who will never have to buy a drink in Canada again.

Hockey's golden boy capped off a legendary game, which, if you must find anything wrong with it, can only come from Crosby getting some help from the referee on the winner because the puck hitting the official's skate set up the play. I do not want to seem bitter -- my teams have benefited by lucky bounces more than once and it's part of the game -- but it's fairly clear the refs skate altered the play.

While the U.S. was expected not to medal according to most prognosticators, one could argue that a guarantee of Silver at worst was already an impressive accomplishment. But to get so close only to is difficult to handle as a fan and clearly as a player. Coach Ron Wilson may have had a point in saying the best team doesn't always take gold, and Zach Parise, whose four goals in the elimination rounds may have served as the budding star's coming out party, went so far as to say, "It sucks."

Perhaps to make matters even worse, Barack Obama now has to kowtow to Canadian Prime Minister, and musical genius, Stephen Harper by buying him a case of Molson Canadian beer. As one of my coworkers put it, they should have wagered healthcare. At least that Yuengling will be staying in the U.S. Besides, Harper probably has bigger concerns to worry about.

Despite their unfortunate end for me, the Olympics provided many cool moments, such as fan-inspired art of those totally sweet 1960 U.S. hockey uniforms. Not to be left out of that are those phenomenal pants wore by the Norwegian men's curling team, which, if I ever find myself curling on any sort of regular basis, I will wear. In case you're wondering, you can get them here. Coolest of all, however, was listening to the Canadian crowd sing O Canada after the men triumphed in that gold medal curling match against Norway. No, it's not my country, but few things can create such goosebumps.

Something that created goosebumps for me of a different kind came during the closing ceremonies, when the Russian handoff for the 2014 Games in Sochi brought on an imperialistic and frightening rendition of the Russian national anthem, which, in case you're wondering, was also the anthem of the Soviet Union.

Fortunately for us, those quirky Canadians were there to soften the blow afterwards, providing us a closing ceremony that featured giant cardboard cut outs of hockey players firing around a human puck, enormous inflatable beavers, enormous inflatable moose, attractive women wearing sexy Royal Canadian Mounted Police uniforms while dancing on top of an even larger mountie hat and Catherine O'Hara, known to most of us as the mother from Home Alone, telling us all how Canadians just love saying sorry all the time. As I watched, all I could think to myself was that if The Simpsons were to make a parody of what the closing ceremonies would look like at the Vancouver Olympics, much like the one they did of the opening ceremonies last week, well, it would probably look exactly the same as the real ones did.

Giant inflatable beavers? Really?

I did enjoy the self-deprecating humor of the ceremony's first moments, and I will admit to being touched when Michael J. Fox came out to speak to the crowd in a somewhat similar moment to when Muhammed Ali lit the torch at the 1996 Atlanta Games, but beyond that, most of the festivities seemed, well, silly.

And with that, the Olympics, almost as quick as they started, are done. While the Canadians did experience some controversy in the first week of the Games amid concerns that their drive to "Own the Podium" was bearing little fruit, Canada wound up breaking the record for gold medals at a single winter games, though the U.S. did take the overall medal count with 37, the largest total in history and the first time the U.S. topped the winter medal count since the 1932 Lake Placid Games.

Then again, when I look back at the Vancouver Games, all I'll really remember is that Canada took the only gold that matters. With this experience in the Americans' back pockets, however, maybe, just maybe, they'll finally take it in Sochi.

See? I Told You All Hockey Was Awesome

For all you people who claim hockey is boring and that you don't know how it could be entertaining, the whole lot of you got smacked in the face tonight with the United States' upset win over Canada at the Vancouver Olympics, its first victory against its northern neighbors at an Olympic Games in 50 years. This was an exciting, taut matchup between two geographic rivals that played with the same effort and tension you'd see in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals. Both teams viewed it as a key stepping stone to a medal, and what followed with tons of great saves, great goals and wild end-to-end rushes was great theater. America's victory has set them up for a fantastic shot at the medal rounds, while dealing a startling blow to Canadian national pride.

Now, unfortunately, I'm going to have to break down to all of you in a few minutes why this might not have been the hallmark moment you thought it was -- to say nothing of the fact that Canada is still very much alive for the gold medal -- but don't worry, if you want to relish in it for a few seconds, I'll let you have your moment.

...

There you go. Now, I'm not going to be one of those self-congratulatory hockey fans who begins to criticize the vast majority of you for not caring about hockey until tonight --  it seems Gawker already did it for me. I don't mind people jumping on the bandwagon when the Olympics come around. Swells of patriotism and the joy of national triumph are what the Olympics are all about, even if douchebag extraordinaire Christopher Hitchens doesn't seem to agree. Furthermore, without it we wouldn't get gems of comments by Canadians such as this one.

No, I'm glad you're all watching, and I'm glad you're all pissed off that the game was relegated to MSNBC rather than NBC's national telecast. If the U.S. team can make a stirring run to the medal round, rally the country behind it and convert some of you out there into real hockey fans who keep watching come the Stanley Cup playoffs this year, tonight's game will have been a victory not just in the Olympics but for hockey as a whole. This is Canada's game, but making it healthier in the U.S. can only better the sport for everyone.

And how exactly did we get here? Well it's very clear that this game started and ended with Ryan Miller's play between the pipes. Miller has been stellar this season for the Buffalo Sabres in what has already been a fine career to this point, but tonight was a level I have never seen him at before. In a tense, pressurized rivalry game in front of an opposition crowd and on an international stage, Miller was unconscious throughout and made several huge stops en route to a 42-save night.

Meanwhile, you can call it a stretch if you want, but with my hero Martin Brodeur in goal, the following players factored heavily into every U.S. goal, with the exception of Ryan Kesler's empty-netter: Zach Parise, Jamie Langenbrunner, Brian Rafalski and Chris Drury. The fact that I was forced to cheer for Drury in what was essentially a Rangers jersey against a red-bedecked Brodeur was oustandingly uncomfortable, but their is a certain national pride that conquers all. Regardless, Drury, as a Ranger, faces Brodeur several times a year, while Rafalski played with Marty on two Stanley Cup-winning squads and Parise and Langenbrunner currently share a locker room with the NHL's All-time wins leader. All of them were familiar with Brodeur. All of them have known him for years and had to have had some idea of how to play him. That edge alone was invaluable.

No, Brodeur was not at his best. Three of those goals were direct results of errors he made playing the puck, and he may very well have played himself out of the starting job, but he still made several outstanding saves in the second period, which was the only period during which the U.S. really controlled play. As Marty said, Miller was the difference -- and he was -- but the fact that three current or former Devils and a Ranger were involved in every scored on Brodeur cannot be overlooked.

As for that last goal by Kesler, it was particularly interesting since it may have sealed his fate of never being able to show his face in Vancouver again. Kesler's upset-sealing tally came on the heels of comments that must have caused a stir north of the border, when he said of the Canadians, "I hate them." That may seem a bit brash, but it's unlikely Kesler will really have to hear from Vancouverites too often since he plays for ... the Vancouver Canucks.

Oops.

Well, with those comments in tow and that diving empty-net score, it might be a safe bet Kesler has punched his ticket out of Vancouver, but at least he looked good doing it, because yes, I'm a total sucker for those totally sweet 1960 Squaw Valley throwbacks the U.S. was wearing tonight. The 1980 jerseys will always have a special spot in my heart -- the U.S. should wear them at every tournament -- but these come a close second. Still, while Kesler stoked some flames, he didn't do anything completely stupid, like, say, mark Alex Ovechkin's colossal hit on Jaromir Jagr with a clearly inappropriate caption on his heavily trafficked website.

So what exactly does this all mean? Well, not as much as you'd think. On MSNBC after the game the following statements were uttered: "The biggest U.S. hockey victory since 1980," "Huge upset" and "Just a bunch of Americans playing a team of future hall of famers." All of these statements are, well, a little over the top.

Let's calm down a little bit people.

First of all, to put this win on par with The Miracle on Ice in 1980 is just plain silly. No upset, no not even the greatest football game ever played, will ever carry the symbolism, political weight and shock of the U.S.'s win over the Soviets in Lake Placid. Besides, the U.S.'s shocking victory at hockey's 1994 World Cup and it's arrival in the Gold Medal Game in Salt Lake City in 2002 were all bigger moments. As for "huge upset", well, these are all NHL players on both sides, and the U.S. and Canada both had a number of star players. Were the Canadians the more talented lot? By quite a margin the answer is yes. But during an NHL season, weak teams with more diluted talent than this still win against the big dogs once in a while. Gretzky's Oilers didn't go undefeated each season. Lastly, "Just a bunch of Americans playing a team of future hall of famers" gives the U.S. team too little credit and the Canadians too much. The Americans are young, and Kesler isn't likely to wind up in the hall, but a number of players on the team, Parise, who was profiled in Sports Illustrated this week, Miller, Patrick Kane to name a few, could very well have long, hall-worthy careers. Of course, it's much too early to make that kind of declaration, but it's hardly out of the realm of possibility. As for the Canadians, Brodeur, Sidney Crosby and more than one or two others on the roster are likely to be honored in Toronto some day. But is Corey Perry? Is Patrice Bergeron?

In any event, this was exciting, but it is probably not the major moment NBC wants you to believe it was. Of course, like I said, if it gets more hockey fans, I'm fine with the outcome, but we ought to see what this really does to the tournament as it stands.

Depending on the outcome of Finland and Sweden, the U.S. seems like it will wind up with the top overall seed in the elimination rounds of what is a very confusing tournament structure -- a surprise to say the least. This means, the Americans will get a bye to the quarterfinals where they will face the winner of Belarus and Switzerland. While Swiss goaltender Jonas Hiller could easily steal a game -- he single-handedly eliminated the Presidents' Trophy-winning San Jose Sharks in the opening round of the postseason last year -- beyond Hiller neither team has a threatening lineup. This means the U.S. could very possibly find its way into the semifinals, which could have them facing a stiffer challenge in the likes of Finland or the Czech Republic.

As for the Canadians, the path gets far more ornery. Canada will face the Germans in the first elimination round, which, frankly, may as well be a day off, but if all the favorites hold and win through the first round of elimination games, Canada will face off with Russia in the quarterfinals, a matchup that insures one of the two pre-tournament gold medal favorites will leave the Olympics with nothing to show for it. If the Canadians are to get past Alex Ovechkin and company -- and I think they would -- they find themselves in the semifinals where their challenges are on the same level as any other team team that gets to that point. In fact, it's very possible that Canada and the U.S. could meet again next Sunday for the gold, and in that situation I don't like the Americans' chances, but that potential matchup with the Russians looms large as the key stumbling block.

Canada has put a lot of pressure on itself to take home what some say is the only medal that matters. As Sports Illustrated put it, without top honors in hockey the Games as a whole will be considered a failure. Being on the magazine's cover may not have helped the team's case, but either way, for Sidney Crosby and the Canadians, the clock is starting to tick.

Oh, So That's What The C In CNBC Stands For

Perhaps the rest of you haven't been watching as much Olympic coverage as I have, which, frankly, wouldn't take very much, but it seems as though of all the sports I've watched so far, by leaps and bounds the most ubiquitous has been curling. Now, this doesn't bother me one bit. I rather enjoy curling -- it's a fascinating game -- and I generally only get to watch it once every four years. If you're not so familiar or, as one of my coworkers claims, you think it's just "plinko on ice", well, you're wrong. And here's a refresher. Here's a more complex explanation.

Because of in-house Canadian feeds at my office I now get to annually watch major tournaments like the Brier of Scottie's Tournament of Hearts, but prior to that, I had to wait four years and even then the matches were often in mid-day or at 2 a.m. And yes, when they were on at 2 a.m. in Torino, I stayed up to watch.

This year, however, there seems to be an entirely different case. CNBC has been showing the entire first week of curling matches nearly round the clock, with the lone exception being whenever a hockey game is played and even in those cases, the early parts of the first period are often pre-empted so the final end can be finished.

One wonders if we'll ever see Maria Bartiromo again.

The logic goes that curling's heavy presence on the NBC sister channel is probably a result of vastly increased popularity for the sports in the U.S. since it was introduced as an official Olympic sport in Nagano in 1998, and indeed, it certainly does seem more popular. After all, the sport was profiled in a recent episode of The Simpsons -- the greatest TV show of all time.



Not to be outdone, Stephen Colbert, a man who doesn't like to be left out of the spotlight, and whose support of the U.S. Speedskating team is well documented even if it's not well received, also did a recent segment where he experimented with the sport.

I also think the fact that the game so easily lends itself to dirty jokes -- "She can hog my line anytime" or "I wish I was laying two in the house" for instance -- doesn't hurt its case. But it seems bizarre to me that such a deliberate, strategy driven game can be becoming so popular when it isn't a game you've grown up with. Baseball, for instance, is also a slow, methodical game, but it is more deeply woven into American culture than any other. Curling may be a part of the fabric of our neighbors to the north, but it certainly isn't down here. I had never heard of the game before 1998 and its status as an Olympic sport is often the butt of many jokes.

Lastly, most people seem to think curling is gaining popularity, among some fairly surprising people, because people can relate to the average joes -- the U.S. team has a substitute teacher and a bartender in its ranks -- but that belies the fact that these people are, in fact, very good athletes. Rumor has it that one curling outing and your body is so sore you're out of commission for days. Now, I'm no John Shuster, though given his knack for not coming up in the big spot this year that might be a good thing, but I'm now determined to give this sport a shot at some point. Besides, what other game, besides golf, can you play while wearing pants like this?

If only I could find people to do it with me. Volunteers welcome.

In other, and wildly more exciting news, the U.S., which by some miracle currently leads its preliminary group in ice hockey, will be taking on Canada tomorrow night in the neighbor nations' Olympic grudgematch. Some of you may recall the U.S. lost to Canada in the Gold Medal Game in Salt Lake City in 2002, the first time in 70 years the U.S. didn't take top honors in ice hockey on its own soil. This isn't the Gold Medal Game, and it is tough for me to root against Martin Brodeur, but with as much pressure as there is on the Canadian team to take home the only gold medal that really matters, it'd be awfully nice to return the favor of 2002 in Vancouver.

This is a new, different, younger U.S. team than the one that played in Salt Lake City or won the World Cup in 1994, and no, I don't expect the U.S. to win, but it will be fun and it will be exciting. And I will be watching.

You ought to, too.

That's all for this weekend, friends. Enjoy the games. I will have a new story up for you all on Monday. Suggestions for which team to post are welcome.

Oh My God Rick Reilly Shut Up

I wanted to avoid talking about this Tiger Woods press conference. Really, I did. I am so unbelievably tired of this story -- if for no other reason than it is absolutely none of our business -- and yet, well, here I am. Not so much because I feel the need to criticize Tiger, though I am now convinced that he is the worst public speaker alive, but moreso because I need to explain something very clearly to ESPN commentator and former Sports Illustrated columnist Rick Reilly.

Rick. Buddy. Tiger did not cheat on you. He cheated on his wife. Despite how badly you might want to be her, you, Rick Reilly, are not his wife. He does not owe you an apology.

Get it? Got it? Awesome.

Now, I know you may feel like Tiger owes you something since you have all the answers for his troubles even if your colleagues don't necessarily think you do, but he doesn't actually owe you anything. Really, he doesn't. He doesn't owe you anything and he doesn't owe me or any other sports fan anything. At all.

In fact, unless you happen to be a Swedish woman named Elin Nordegren, or are one of Tiger's close relatives, he doesn't owe you any sort of apology at all. Not sure why, Rick? Ok. Let me break it down for you.

For the last 15 years Tiger has been playing golf at such an exceptional level that at one point you even called him a "God". He has provided you with hours of incredible entertainment -- and after all that is really what sports are in the end -- and you, in particular, have managed to get attention and money off of it by writing about him the entire time. Tiger has given you fodder from his teenage years when he was not yet the juggernaut he became and continued to do so throughout his early time on the tour and later as he crafted his remarkable career.

You gave us schmaltzy stories about how wonderful and exciting he is, gave us the not so difficult prediction that he was going to be amazing, told us how quirky and fun he was and on more than one occasion delivered your own account of his sentimental attachment to his father.

Yeah, Rick, you've gotten quite a bit of mileage out of Tiger, and as such, I offer you this advice, which is surely as unwanted as the advice you keep giving him, and that is shut up. The fact is this is purely a personal matter between one man and the wife he has betrayed, and you have almost made a career out of praising Tiger. You have no place to act holier than thou, and, if anything, you might owe Tiger for giving you something to write about. In some ways, Tiger Woods made you, and he is the reason you got to be popular enough to write about leukemia-ridden paraplegics who were trying to play ping pong every week.

Frankly, I think I may owe Tiger for the years of entertainment he has given all of us. He's not the first public figure we've admired and he's not the first one who has strayed. Any of us who feel like we have been personally slighted, need to get over ourselves, and you Mr. Reilly lead that pack.

Now, I will admit, Rick, somehow you have managed not to say the dumbest thing anyone has mentioned on the matter, but that doesn't mean you are any more right to take an expert point of view on what was probably the dullest, least remarkable press conference I have ever seen in my life. By the time Tiger was done apologizing this morning I just wanted those five minutes of my life back, or at the very least, had hoped something more interesting would be announced.

I was really hoping to spend today talking about two remarkable Olympic hockey games last night, with Canada getting by Switzerland in a shootout and Slovakia doing the same later in the evening against Russia. Or at the very least, I was going to wax poetic on the amusing and surprising fun that comes from following the twitterverse during Yevgeny Plyushchenko's long program in men's figure skating last night. But now, after watching Tiger say that his apology to his wife will take months and be defined through his actions -- and he's absolutely right -- all I can think about is how tired I am of hearing you ramble, Rick.

Don't get me wrong. Is Tiger Woods a hypocrite? Absolutely. But Rick, even if you've never cheated on your wife, it looks like you may very well have been cut from the same cloth.

Why Don't The Knicks Just Trade The City Of New York?

Ah the strong, masculine sport of figure skating, thy name is Johnny Weir.

Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate figure skating, and I understand that it is, in fact, very very difficult to do. I even enjoy watching it from time to time, but what I can't understand is that with hundreds of millions of people watching you perform your triple salchows, this is what you chose to wear?

Really?

I have no sense for fashion -- I wore birkenstocks, cargo shorts and hockey jerseys for most of college -- but I can't possibly imagine anyone would find this attire appropriate for any situation whatsoever. Then again, I suppose I'm not one to judge if you want to look like a woman whose dress has just been ripped open or a worn out fur coat. Everyone makes their own choices. And I do realize that part of Weir's appeal is his flamboyant choice of vestments, but don't we think this is pushing it just a wee bit? Particularly since Men's Figure Skating outfits have been silly, but never quite this silly?

I suppose the only sillier thing is why I'm asking the question. I don't fault Weir for his choices. I just think his attire may take away attention from the actual artistry or technical proficiency of his performance. And after all, isn't that, you know, the point?

I suppose I ought not to get involved, particularly since I've been paying far more attention to skiing, snowboard cross, curling, short track and not surprisingly hockey. I was extremely dismayed last night at around 2 a.m., however, to find that RCN Cable is cutting off the last hockey game of the night in the middle of the third period to show infomercials. Last night in particular, when Slovakia and the Czech Republic was cut off despite playing the first watchable hockey game of the tournament was a ridiculous offense.

It's possible that there's a wider conspiracy here. So far Canada has done a decent job of owning the podium -- the host nation has won six medals including its first two golds on home soil -- but it wouldn't surprise me if the Canadians were trying to sweep hockey under the rug until their boys get to the medal round because they might be worried that people will find out the greatest Canadian isn't really Canadian anymore.



Then again, it could jut be crappy TV scheduling. Either way, I'm still getting to watch more Olympics coverage than I know what to do with. Of course getting to watch up to six channels of coverage from two different countries at a time at the office helps that, but I'm enjoying it despite the overstimulation.

Remarkably, the Games have distracted me from the fact that Pitchers and Catchers report to Mets camp today, which is either a blessing or a curse depending on how you feel. I haven't quite made up my mind yet, but the Mets actually playing baseball this year can't be the worst thing I've come across this week.

And speaking of bad ideas, the Knicks are apparently trying to trade everything but the kitchen sink to Houston for Tracy McGrady. I shouldn't really call it a bad idea. Acquiring McGrady's expiring contract would help clear out the cap even more for the NBA's 2010 Free Agent Extravaganza, and enable the 'Bockers to offer two max contracts and possibly turn this sinking Titanic around after a decade of futility. One would hope with that much space, New York can finally sign the pieces to become a winner again. Unfortunately, as this authentic video of the negotiations shows, well, the Rockets are asking for quite a bit.



Still, personally, with how bad this team is aside from David Lee and Danilo Gallinari, I can't really have a problem with any move that starts to clear away the rotten scraps. Bring it on. Houston may be extracting everything it can from Knicks GM Donnie Walsh, but I've seen bigger scams.

In other news, I will be putting my aforementioned letter writing project on hold until I have a chance to speak with a lawyer. While I'm excited to see what it turns up, a rudimentary bit of investigating revealed that it might constitute mail fraud. Until I have that straightened out, I will be waiting to get the ball rolling. I'm sure it's too small a case to ever be prosecuted -- there are far bigger frauds out there -- but it only makes sense to proceed cautiously.

Before I close shop today, I thought I would send a sentimental note out there to all my friends who are Yankees fans. I've never been a huge fan of Yankee Stadium (I), and I've often found talk of the ghosts and tradition of it to be a little silly ever since the building was renovated in the 1970s, but as I did spend a number of nights in my teenage years at the House that Ruth Built, it was a bit sad to see these pictures last night, showing that even the most hallowed and beloved of Stadiums eventually meet their end. We probably should have all expected to see Yankee Stadium torn down, but it doesn't make the images any less significant.

Lastly, I would like to extend a hearty thanks to the unsinkable Molly Turner of Kansas City, Missouri, who along with Susie Sharkey, may have single-handedly tripled my reader base -- at least for a day -- by publicizing Monday's story about my trip to see the Kansas City Royals. My hits across the flyover states saw an absolutely staggering increase, and while I don't expect the readers to keep coming without my mentioning their favorite city, if they do, well, I owe Molly and Susie a drink. Possibly two.

Enjoy tonight's Olympic coverage. And if you're not a Mets fan, enjoy the baseball, too.

72 Hours In The Life Of Steve Nash

Instead of spending most of today thinking about the dumbest holiday known to man, I beseech you to take a few minutes and consider one Stephen John Nash. Yes, I'm sure most of you reading this have at least heard of Steve Nash, the point guard for the Phoenix Suns who may very well wind up in the Basketball Hall of Fame one day, but I wonder how many of you have actually taken a few moments to really think about his life. And by think about his life I mean, if you have watched anything sports related this weekend, you've probably seen Steve Nash.

This has been Nash's weekend:
Friday Night: Light the Olympic cauldron to open the 2010 Winter Games in Vancouver, roughly 60 miles from your childhood home in Victoria, British Columbia.
Saturday Night: Win NBA All-Star Skills Competition in Dallas, Texas, a city that still adores you for the six years you spent turning their Mavericks from moribund cellar dwellers into championship contenders.
Sunday Night: Play in NBA All-Star Game.

Yeah, just a typical weekend in the life of Steve Nash.

I'm not entirely sure how someone could be so lucky to have that kind of three-day journey, but no one really seems to be noticing it. Of course, I have no problems with this. I like Steve Nash. He's a joy to watch on the court, and he's also one of the most underrated public personalities in the world, as his work for Vitamin Water can attest.



Still, I find it somewhat bizarre that this has slipped through the sporting consciousness. No one is really talking about Nash, perhaps because he's not the biggest star playing in tonight's All-Star Game, or perhaps because he was overshadowed in Vancouver by Wayne Gretzky, but it's almost absurd.

In fact, it's so absurd that I can't really think of anything else to say on it. There really are no words. I just hope some day I can have three days in a row that are quite so cool. If I, too, can manage to do it without the media broadcasting it, well, all the better.

At least Nash always gives hope to his come country, which is starting to get antsy after its first gold medal hopeful, Jenn Heil, was unable to defend her crown in women's moguls last night. Canada still has never won a gold medal on its own soil, but I have a feeling they won't wait too long this time around, even if the U.S. has taken the early medal lead with Hannah Kearney taking Heil's place on the podium and Apolo Anton Ohno getting his sixth Olympic medal.

If nothing else, Canada's women's hockey team, which beat Slovakia yesterday, 18-0, will probably continue to wax the competition.

In other news, I was stunned to find earlier this week that apparently the Melbourne Football Club, formally known as the Demons, is pulling whatever strings it can to have Barack Obama attend its season opening AFL match against Hawthorn when the POTUS makes his scheduled trip to Australia this March. On one hand, it excites me that Obama's visit might give footy a little more pub, but at the same time, why would the President want to see the mediocre Dees, who finished last in the league table last year, when instead he could simply come to the Melbourne Cricket Ground a day earlier and catch the season opening tilt of the defending-champions Geelong Cats -- who happen to be my favorite team.

In fact, while Geelong is facing Essendon, which also made the postseason tournament known to AFL fans as Finals, Melbourne and Hawthorn both missed the playoffs a year ago. Geelong being overlooked, in addition to Southampton meeting its FA Cup demise in a fifth-round tie against Portsmouth, has made this a rough week for me internationally.

At the very least, maybe Obama can come to his senses and see the greatest team of all. Failing that, maybe the U.S. can take a few more medals and cheer me up.

Expect a story early this week, though I'm currently debating which one to post. Also, with the holiday tomorrow, I may wait until Tuesday so you're all entertained at work instead of missing it.

You'll thank me later.

Oh, Hey. The Olympics.

Apparently none of you seem to be noticing that the Games of the XXI Winter Olympiad open tonight in Vancouver, British Columbia. Now, I know most of you probably prefer the summer games and you might be wondering why, exactly, Apolo Anton Ohno, Bode Miller and Lindsey Vonn are suddenly worth knowing about for the first time in four years. Also, you may have forgotten who Sarah Hughes, Bonnie Blair or Jamie Sale and David Pelletier are.

That's fine. But for people like me, well, I love the Olympics. I don't always remember whom all the different stars are, or the defending gold medalists in the vast majority of the competitions, but I love watching all the sports I don't get a chance to see on a regular basis in the U.S. Also, these people are just unbelievably phenomenal athletes.

I enjoy the downhill skiing, and the figure skating, though curling and short track speed skating are really what I get excited about seeing. And if you've never seen the short track speed skating relay before, well, it's like a chaotic ballet on ice.

Oh yeah. And there's hockey.

And by "hockey" I mean, the single greatest hockey tournament in the world. This means you won't be seeing any of these for two weeks, however. With the use of NHL players and no Soviet Union to hate, we'll never be able to see a feat quite like the Miracle on Ice again -- though the 30th anniversary of the greatest upset in sports history is later this month -- but this tournament should be awfully exciting, if for no other reason than Canada, a heavy gold-medal favorite, is hosting the Games. And take it from me since I've had an awful lot of interaction with Canadians in the last two years. Canadians love hockey.

Like they really love it.

Imagine how much you all love your families, significant others and chocolate. Multiply that by about 1,000 and you might get close to how much Canadians love hockey. It's that big up there, and should the home country fail to take home the ultimate prize, well, it won't be pretty north of the border.

And if you doubt the power of the Olympics, or the Sports Illustrated Cover Jinx, or perhaps both, look no further than last week's cover with Lindsey Vonn, who was dubbed "America's Best Woman Skier Ever" only to suffer a major shin injury this week, which may prevent he from competing in a Games where she was expected to take multiple golds. It should be noted, however, that Canadians received a cover with Sidney Crosby on it. If they can't bring home hockey gold, I think they'll know who to blame.

Of course, I'm sure most of you have been paying attention to that other Sports Illustrated that just arrived. I have to be honest, I generally find the swimsuit issue to be kind of silly. Don't get me wrong. If this is the closest I'll ever come to having Brooklyn Decker in my apartment, I'll take it, but the novelty seems to have worn off for me, particularly since the internet doesn't make it difficult to find scantily clad women these days. In fact, in college whenever I would leave the issue out on my desk, the girls who came into my room seemed far more fascinated than the men.

The part I generally find most enjoyable about the issue is when Sports Illustrated prints all the irritated letters it receives in the week after its release. Do these people not know Sports Illustrated sells this? Do they not see the large section of the Letters page for the previous two months telling you who to contact if you don't want to receive the swimsuit issue?

Apparently not.

In other news, before I sign off today, I want to touch on the unfortunate passing of Fred Morrison, the man single-handedly responsible for thousands of hours of entertainment during my college years and beyond. Now, he was elderly, so it's not too surprising the end came, but the man did invent the frisbee. I'm not sure where I'd be without him.

Lastly, on a lighter note -- or more depressing depending on where you're coming from -- New York Mets closer Francisco Rodriguez was outdueled in a softball game by Venezuelan President/Insane Dictator Hugo Chavez. Yeah, you read that right. Chavez was no Eddie Feigner, giving up seven runs in two innings, but K-Rod, the man expected to shut down games for the Amazins this year gave up 11 runs over three innings.

That bodes well. And to think, I was excited that pitchers and catchers report in just eight days. Of course, given that Chavez's team won, naturally, I'm inclined to think the whole outing wasn't exactly on the level. Either way, I think I'm glad the headaches don't begin for six more weeks.