Yes, I am an Olympics freak. Every two years, I watch sports; that’s how often I can stand them, but when I watch, I watch with focus and devotion.
I don’t normally take to ice dancing, but the reporting on all the falls got me pruriently interested, so I tuned in last night. The focus of all the buzz was the Italian couple.
(I’m going to tell you the truth, which is that I watched uncritically, and only started thinking about the coverage afterwards. Any comments I make were absent from my brain while zombied in front of the TV.)
On Wednesday night, Maurizio Margaglio dropped Barbara Fusar-Poli during a lift. They’d been in first place but this destroyed their chances for a medal. The real buzz, though, was the dirty look she gave him. While she glared at him for 31 seconds (yes, they clocked it!) the commentators called her “ice diva,” the “dominant partner” in their team, and joked they were afraid of her. This went on, at length, on the Olympic Ice wrap-up.
(There’s a video of “the glare” on the right side of this page.)
So here’s where I want to point out that he dropped her. She’s the bitch, he’s the victim? He. Dropped. Her. The Canadian woman also fell from a lift on Sunday (this time she was the one who lost her grip) and had to withdraw from competition because she was in too much pain to skate on Monday. When interviewed, she said she was just grateful she hadn’t broken her hip. So I’m thinking, not a trivial thing, such a drop. I’m thinking, I’d be mad too.
