I believe very strongly in the power of the subconscious.
Everything you have ever seen or heard is stored there. Literally.
So when I was pondering the intricacies of the men's Olympic competition in Salt Lake, and my subconscious kept shouting, "Elvis!", I wasn't about to disagree.
My first rational thought would have been that he would turn pro. Enough of this Canada = silver bit. Save it for the fans.
But somehow....another Olympics? Has The Man got it in him? And my subconscious jumps up and down, squealing, "Yes! Yes!"
My subconscious remembers things I don't. So let it be.
The first half of the "versus" equation is filled in with a maple-leaf flag thingy. Nice and cute. Like on a Nagano website.
Now where's #2? The other half of the equation? And my subconscious starts tugging at my sleeve, pointing down somewhere in the standings to this tough-guy type in red and black Lycra. Who almost, almost had that quad lutz. And had the lines to go with it. For me, attractiveness on ice is a mixture of a number of things. Gutsiness. Line. The ability to make it all look good. Plus that little bit of Kittyboy flash....
I didn't. I did. Just invoked the biggest name in American figure skating. And Subconscious Dearie is just sitting there, grinning at me. "You didn't notice?"
Nope. I sure didn't. (Kittyboy and his partner, Kittygirl, will be explained later. Look under the "That Gang of Kids" essay for right now. That will get you started. ) So ya gonna have that quad lutz ready in time for Salt Lake City? Or is my subconscious going to have to start throwing M&M's at you, Michael?
Now two men rarely make a competition. They've got to have some problems. I think one of those problems is going to be named Alexei. That Yagudin kid just doesn't let go of those jumps. And he may even get around to developing something in between them. He's obviously working.
Who else? That little Guo kid. The sheer power and shoulder-muscle heft to make those jumps. Now if he could be left alone to develop some of the deep, sensitive Chinese edges everybody else on the team was flashing, he'd have a good day.
And, of course, the surprise factor. It's always there. Down to the last moment. We'll see. It never fails.
Some may be asking, "Why not Ilia? Where's our Ilia?" I don't know. I really have no deep-seated urge to see Ilia rot in SIberia. Except for as long as it takes to get those edges under control. That yellow-and-black shirt could even have been cute if it had been cut a little differently. The material had enough nerve. All I can see if that my subconscious doesn't think he's going to make it. Maybe go pro. Maybe give up. Who knows? Maybe my subconscious caught that one little look that said, "The heck with this. Bring on the circuit!" I don't know. Anyway, my subconscious is sitting with its little arms folded and shaking its head vigorously. Enough.
My subconscious knows more about skating than I do.
But isn't that true of everyone? No matter what they're doing?
Sigh. Todd? Maybe had enough of the check-box judging? Dunno. Maybe he'll be more appreciated on the tour circuit? We'll see.
On to the pairs. For what it's worth.
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