Speech impediment

Friday, February 10, 2006 | Print Entry

In my own little part of Torino, if you would have told me the Olympics was being held here, I would not believe you.

As a non-credentialed member of the media, I am not allowed anywhere near the main media center, which is about two miles from ESPN's offices. I am sure if I would go anywhere near the center, the IOC buzzers and red lights would go off like those censors in retail stores (no people, I don't steal!).

But there is really no way of knowing about the Games here because the locals are just not interested. Hell, why should they be? Sure, they'll get more business, but let's imagine a slew of foreigners invading your city and butchering your language. How would you feel? And yes, I am one of those butchers. I might have Italian blood in me, but I can't speak a lick outside of "Ciao" and "por favore" and "quanto costa (how much?)." And even then, my sheepish grin can't overcome the Italians' disappointment when they quickly figure out that I am a damn Yank.

For example ... I went into a coffee shop, or café, for a latte. I am so used to Starbucks, I figured the Italians had a "to go" option. Nope. The Italians enjoy their "caffe" and their meals, slowly. Old men stand at the marble counters, sipping their espresso and reading their papers, slowly. Perfectly manicured women sit at the small tables, reading their magazines, slowly. It made me realize that I move way too fast, something that seems unavoidable in the United States.

But there's no sign of Olympic life. It's almost like watching an Eli Manning press conference. Now, could you imagine him trying to order a latte here in Torino? It would be a bad mix of Forrest Gump and Steve Martin (trying to speak with a French accent in the new remake of The Pink Panther).

Now, I suddenly don't feel so bad.
-- Joy Russo, ESPN.com Olympics Editor

ALL BOARD IN MOUNTAINS

At Bardonecchia Melezet, the snowboarding venue, they don't care much about mud. In fact, with the exception of on the halfpipe itself, it's everywhere, including halfway to the knees of every athlete, journalist and polizia in sight. They do, though, still care about your shoes: no walking up the icy sides of the halfpipe to get a better view without snowshoes or crampons.

Here, the Friday morning sun shone brightly through crisp, 40-degree air (with all those natural UV rays, sunglasses or goggles are highly recommended here). American rider Kelly Clark sunned her arms in a T-shirt at the bottom of the pipe, which is 135 meters (about 430 feet) long and 20 meters (about 60 feet) wide. That is about average size for a super pipe. Just for some perspective, the halfpipe in Breckenridge, Colo., which hosted the first two American snowboard Grand Prix events, is 475 feet long and 50 feet wide.

The Melezet pipe was a bit crunchy and granular Friday morning, another result of the current lack of snow in the Italian Alps, and many riders wiped out on the pipes' icy 5-meter sides. American Hannah Teter took her last run a bit earlier than some riders to drop a "Strive Roots" CD off at the venue DJ. It's her boyfriend's band and all riders get to select music to accompany their halfpipe runs.

Although it's not nearly as windy here in Bardonecchia during the day, the wind still rips through the fabric tubes in the ceilings of the tents. Here, all the athletes throw their arms in the air like so many football fans, doing the wave and yell "Aaaaay" each time the wind blows through their dining "hall."

Some last food for thought: Why do freestyle skiers get to ride a T-bar from the bottom of the hill to the top when snowboarders have to trudge their way, carrying their snowboards, up the steep sides of the halfpipe? It is like this everywhere in the world, at both American halfpipe Grand Prix and European World Cup events. As it is in Bardonecchia, the snowboarders are sometimes given the option of riding from the bottom of the pipe to the base of the mountain, catching a ski lift to the top of the run, then snowboarding back down to the top of the halfpipe, usually about midway up the mountain.

Whether they hoof it or do the snowboard/lift combo, they're still doing a lot more work than those lucky skiers hanging onto the T-bar.
-- Lindsay Berra, ESPN The Magazine writer