Austrians and lots of coffee
Super G? Maybe we should re-evaluate it
By Tom Powers, St. Paul Pioneer Press
Posted: Sun February 15, 1998 at 12:02 PM ET
Picabo Street won the women's Super G.
Zoom /Allsport
|
NAGANO, Japan (KRT) -- When things go right, there is no better place to
be than the Winter Olympics. But when things go screwy, such as the
weather at the Alpine ski venue, things can turn sour in a hurry.
Here's a diary of Sunday's attempt to cover the men's Super G.
5:30 a.m. -- Breakfast of buttered rice, fried potatoes and rolls
and butter. The Japanese, as a people, have just about the lowest
cholesterol level in the world. It's one of the great mysteries of
life. They eat horribly -- lots of animal fat and butter by the
truckload.
Yet they seem relatively fit, except for all the hacking that
results from their heavy smoking. Apparently, even the Japanese
surgeon general takes a smoke break. Thought for sure the Japanese
hockey team was going to light up when their coach called a timeout
the other night.
5:50 a.m. -- Board bus to Hakuba for men's Super G. It's snowing
like heck. The weather forecast for Hakuba calls for more snow and
dense fog. There also is an avalanche advisory. The race will never go
off, agree the entire international media -- except for the Austrians,
who are busy singing in the back of the bus.
I get off just before departure. Then sit in lobby and drink three
cups of coffee while waiting for cancellation notice. Big commotion in
cafeteria. Apparently, they ran out butter.
6:50 a.m. -- Board bus to Hakuba. There has been no cancellation
notice. Snow is coming down even harder. Officials are said to be
"studying the situation." Our driver is yawning and clearly trying
to stay awake as people take their seats. Everyone jittery about this,
expect the second wave of Austrians, who are dancing in the back of
the bus.
I get off just before departure. Then sit in lobby and drink three
more cups of coffee while waiting for cancellation notice.
7:50 a.m. -- Board last bus to Hakuba. Official word is that start
of Super G is delayed from 10:15 to 11 a.m. Situation then will be
re-evaluated. This is the point of no return. Get off the bus? Stay on
the bus?
There are no Austrians this time around, which makes the decision
easier: I stay.
7:51 a.m. -- Coffee kicks in the minute we pull out of the terminal
and I really need a restroom. Nearest one is an hour and a half away,
in Hakuba. Disgusting fellow next to me is sawing logs so loudly that
people in area fear eardrum damage.
I smack him in the ribs. He smiles in his sleep, snorts a few
times, then resumes sawing. I change seats after leaving my chewing
gum on his earmuffs.
9:30 a.m. -- Arrive in Hakuba. Greeted by announcement that race
start again has been pushed back, to 12:30. Situation then will be
re-evaluated. First order of business: find restroom.
International press gathered around TV watching ski jumping.
Everyone is cheering like crazy for their own athletes. The Japanese
writers are on the verge of tears when their man has a good jump. They
are hugging each other.
It's an interesting concept. I'm going to start hugging my fellow
writers when I get back to Minnesota. If, say, Kevin Garnett has a big
night, we'll all cry together.
Press room attendant offers coffee. I pass.
11:00 a.m. -- Nothing to do but wait and watch ski jumping on TV as
officials inspect course. Nobody knows for sure what will happen. Fans
are beating drums and clanging bells in the stands. Austrians are
beating drums and clanging bells in the press room.
Everyone mesmerized by the ski jumping. They can tell, when a
jumper is in midair, if he is going to have a good leap. I don't know
how. The only reference point is the sky. But they'll start screaming
halfway through certain jumps and, sure enough, the distance always
turns out to be exceptional.
Austrians screaming on all jumps. And they aren't even watching the
TV.
11:30 a.m. -- Ski jumping is proceeding at a remarkably brisk pace.
No doubt because there are few Americans competing. In Lillehammer,
officials had to sweep up course after each American jump. There would
be gloves, goggles and skis everywhere.
Japanese jumper wins gold medal. It's a very emotional time. Even
Austrians tone down in attempt to be respectful. Then one of them
belches and the party is on again.
Noon -- Ski jumping over. Only reruns on TV. Nothing to do but
wait. There is a raised wooden slat that runs across the center of the
press room. Many people are tripping over it. They land with a loud
thud on the plywood floor.
I move my chair closer to the slat to get a better view. It's
fairly entertaining.
12:15 -- Bored with watching people trip over wooden slat. Go for a
walk outside, buy T-shirt, come in, trip over wooden slat. Austrians
laugh uproariously.
12:20 -- Announcement that start time of Super G again has been
pushed back, this time to 1 o'clock. Situation then will be
re-evaluated. Mood in press center turning surly. Austrians getting
hungry. We need skiing or food to prevent a riot.
12:50 -- Announcement that start time of Super G again has been
pushed back, this time to 1:30. Situation then will be re-evaluated.
I'm looking out the window counting the spectators. There were 8,457
in sight. On the first count anyway.
On the second count I came up with 8,397. The third count was
really interesting: 9,987. But on the fourth count ...
Concession stands very busy. Austrians appear to be looting.
1:20 p.m. -- The sun is shining, the show has stopped, the
Austrians are dozing peacefully and the Super G has been canceled. Too
much fog on the mountain.
Hurry to catch bus for the long ride back to Nagano. Will have
dinner and get to bed early. Have to be up to catch a bus for Hakuba
and the men's Super G. The situation is going to be re-evaluated
tomorrow morning.
Copyright 2003 Knight-Ridder. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
| 
