Gone are the 17 days of Olympic Winter Games. No more garble of McTwists, power plays or lutzes?winter sports are pushed back into the closet of relative obscurity.
No more Jamie Sal and David Pelletier, Wayne Gretzky complaining ab’ut U.S. media giving his team guff for sucking in the opening round robin or stirring controversy over, no, not about the tainted French figure skating judge, but if curling is actually worthy to be an Olympic sport and is not glorified shuffleboard on ice (they don’t even wear skates)?
No more George W. Bush, Christina Aguilera, Mitt Romney, Jacques Rogge, Foo Fighters, Bob Costas, Dave Chapelle, Katie Couric, Nelly Furtado, Black Eyed Peas or Dave Matthews Band in Salt Lake City. No more attractive foreign accents?Russian figure skaters, German hockey players or Australian skiers?roaming around campus and downtown SLC (dammit).
But yes, unfortunately, we get to keep the Osmonds.
The world came to our campus, our city. And now the world is gone.
It’s just Rice-Eccles Stadium instead of Rice-Eccles Olympic Stadium, and the Huntsman Center isn’t a staging area for Olympic athletes but rather a haven for future Keith Van Horn hopefuls.
And finally, many U students can get out of the run-down shanties known as the prehistoric dorms, where you seriously need to wear flip flops in the shower if you don’t want to contract athlete’s foot (What? The Paralympics will now partly occupy the only livable residential housing on campus?D’oh!!).
The transformation from University of Utah, Olympic host, back to University of Utah, academic institution, is nearly complete. So is the mutation of Salt Lake City, happening Olympic host city, back to Salt Lake City, colorless community known primarily for housing the international headquarters of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
It was a pretty eventful and entertaining February?one that sure beat the hell out of getting an education. But the international sporting phenomenon is finally laid to rest.
The campus isn’t so much a caged, Secret Service encampment. Well, sort of. Those damn blue banners still keep me from my usual path, and I can’t find a parking spot in the E lot.
Still, it’s a little better. Students can walk freely to dorm rooms or class without being frisked and asked to empty any metallic items into a plastic container.
But it was worth the hassle.
As I looked at the displays of the world coming our campus and city during the Olympics?Olympic rings on the hillside, the Olympic Torch lighting up the sky three blocks from my house and the World Trade Center flag coming to Utah?I thought to myself, take it in, because nothing like it will happen in your lifetime, while you’re still in your single, post-teen years.
I lost the feeling in my feet as I watched the men’s biathlon relay at Soldier Hollow, I attended shows from Canada’s Barenaked Ladies (they just don’t look as good as the ones in the U.S.), and I got salsa-ed out when listening to the wizardry of Marc Anthony.
Maybe most entertaining, I found myself in the middle of the SLC pseudo-riot that made CNN Headline News the following morning. I still feel their version was B.S.
Here’s a first-hand account of it: A weak fight of eight high school punks broke out, and the next thing I knew riot control was sticking billy clubs in my back to corral me down Main Street.
Even more perplexing, once the area was secure, the riot police opened fire with rubber paint-gun bullets on a middle aged man who had laid down with his hands behind his head to protest.
From there, it was bedlam. Upset drunks started throwing road signs and kicking passing cars, which caused riot-control police to get trigger-happy. I was lucky I didn’t get shot, or shall I say, they were lucky I didn’t get shot.
It escalated to more fighting, breaking of store windows, signs thrown in the street and bottles whizzing past riot control.
Oh yeah, and I worked on the Olympic Village newspaper, touring the compound and talking to world-class athletes. I was presented with an honorary medal from the National Olympic Committee president of Kyrgyzstan, given a leather keychain by athletes from Mongolia, and even dabbled in pin trading (of course, I didn’t buy any?I’m not that desperate).
Salt Lake City might see another celebration like the Winter Olympics?in 50 or 60 years. Of course, by then my sense of fun will consist of maintaining a steady breath of air, playing poker with grandsons and sleeping.
I don’t think it will be the same.
Rory welcomes feedback at: [email protected].