Dear Dave,
The US Ski Team appear to have taken a guy with them to the Olympics whose sole purpose is to stand behind athletes at the start, encouraging them in the seconds before they launch themselves down a stupidly steep, icy slope. He's a big bloke called Huey with dubious facial hair but, boy, can he sound enthusiastic while freezing his extremities off at the top of a snowy mountain. He whoops, he hollers, he claps, he tells the skiers that they 'can do this' and that they 'own' things. He's still shouting as they tear off into the distance.
Sometimes he gets to watch them hurtle to glory. As often as not, he gets to see them clip a flag and careen down the slope on their face. It doesn't matter. Next time, he's whooping and hollering just as hard.
This may, of course, be because it's as good a way as any to keep warm (not to mention it's his job) but it's impressive, all the same. I could do with my own Huey following me around the whole time - giving me a little boost when I'm flagging, egging me on to one last push, making me feel good about myself.
It's a shame that half the athletes probably learnt to phase him out years ago. The other half almost certainly wish he'd shut up and let them concentrate. Nonetheless, he keeps doggedly on. He must have had plenty of training.
Do you think he used to be a housedad?
Yours in a woman's world,
Ed.
2 comments:
We Americans do love our cheerleaders. We are also quite generous. You can have Huey when he's done with his Olympic stint. He can follow you around and shout, "Nice dish washing! Excellent form! Lean into the vacuum! IN!"
You're welcome.
Cheers.
I need him to talk me through this cold the kids have given me. Feeling grim.
Then again, in this bleary, paracetamol-induced haze, he might talk me into throwing myself down an icy mountain with planks strapped to my feet.
Not good.
Post a Comment