"On the other hand, accompaniment by an etude or a cacophony of voices can become as significant for work as the perceptible silence of the night. If the latter sharpens the inner ear, the former acts as a touchstone for a diction ample enough to bury even the most wayward sounds."
After watching last night’s Men Gymnastics, I am of the firm opinion that U.S. team should stay away from live mics. Overheard:
"That’s how we roll! Yeeewwaah!" (They gave away the silver medal on the last exercise)
"Going swimming in the river!" (Is "The River" a version of Chinese Disneyland?)
"This is the proudest I’ve been of this team!" (as opposed to…)
Note: These impossibly-fit 20-something athletes worked their whole life to get to this moment. I, on the other hand, spent the night wondering when Doppler 10,000 would, if ever, be released to local network affiliates, and how many jumping jacks I could do in a row (best guess: 290). So maybe I should shut up.
Just saw Joakim Noah at the gym. Him, free weights. Me, cardio. No idea why he was there (it’s much more of a Terry Richardson-type gym), but as a massive UK basketball fan, I spent the better part of 2.4 miles on the treadmill (incline: 2; speed: 6.6; overall: pathetic) thinking of some smartass remark to make as I bumped him on the way to water fountain.
But 2.4 miles of thinking only made me realize how much of his tenure was spent soundly beating us. I thought about doing his Final Four dance, but he was carrying some dumbells at the time. Instead, I just did thigh crunches and went home.