Category Archives: Vancouver

Canadian Skeptics Debunk Miracle, Secure Podium Ownership

Memes Collide!!

Yesterday afternoon, a team of Canadian men defeated a team of American men in a game of ice hockey. The victory was the host nation’s 14th of the Games, an unprecedented total.

Everyone watched the game, and  everyone loved it. 108% of Canadians watched the game; 108% of Americans loved it. The issue; how does hockey capitalize on the public’s newfound curiosity?


Bettman, president of the D2 fan club, needs to reboot Angels in the Outfield. Bring back Danny Glover, Tony Danza, Christopher Lloyd and most importantly Joseph Gordon Levitt, whose indie menace will legitimize the project.

Still searching for his own Bash Bro

Plot Summary: Bomman, in the midst of a spiritual crisis, is reintroduced as a struggling winger for the New Jersey Devils. Having been alienated by baseball’s statistical revolution and the corresponding disregard for mysticism, Bomman, a kick-ass athlete BTW, was attracted by the chaotic and inexplicable nature of hockey. But once again, Bomman is tested. His faith becomes tenuous due to his lack of goals-by-deflection, once a strength, as his tips prevent more goals than they create. He interprets the development as a sign and sets a self-imposed finale.

Shittt, guy can act. Not worried at all bout him playing a man losing faith in deflections

Working Title: Angels in the Arena, A Higher Power Play

Relevant Scene; Working Title, The Night of the Self-Imposed Finale:

Bomman, killing a penalty during his self-imposed finale, is seen errantly clearing the puck from the Devils’ zone. As the puck slides toward the opposing team’s net, the audience notices that the puck, once travelling clean along the ice, begins to flicker. As he nears his bench, Bomman notices as well, his face ominously curious; skating angels ya’ll!!

I believe it was Oscar Wilde who said “If only there were more Christopher Lloyd-Tony Danza collaborations”

As the opponent’s goalie approaches the puck, the grinning silhouettes of Tony Danza, Danny Glover, and Christopher Lloyd emerge. They mug for a few seconds, dropping mock slips and shivers for the cheap seats. They then get down to Disneyin’ as they mischievously drop a ramp before the puck’s path. The puck, inches from the goaltender’s stick, inexplicably skips the goaltender’s blade and slides past the goal line. The crowd explodes; the heavenly trio each break out a current star’s signature celebration; Levitt is mobbed. Cue 60 minutes of delight as faith is restored, redemption shared, interest maintained.


Vincent Vega and Jules Winfield Discuss Olympic Hockey

Jules: Watch the Miracle on Ice

Vincent: What?

Jules: The motherfucking hockey game, Vincent, did you watch it?

Vincent: I know what you’re talking about, I’m just having difficulty understanding something. So as the United States of America, the greatest nation since the first, beat Canada in a game played on a sheet of frozen water, you became aware of the Lord’s presence?

Jules: If you want to play the blind man, go walk with the shepherd, but my eyes are wide open

Vincent: Alright man, then when exactly did the big kahuna join you. Before or after the zamboni?

Jules: Fuck Vincent. I’m not saying jesus appeared on my couch, cleaned out my bowl of bean dip and fucked off to lend credence to a deranged skiing fan’s interpretation of the images flowing from his tv screen. I’m saying, the victory could be described as the greatest victory in the history of US hockey

Vincent: Whoa, whoa, whoa Jules! Have we forgotten the game that bled the fucking Reds? 1980?

Jules: Shit, sure, but no gave a fuck about hockey in 1980. Lets break it down; first of all, would you agree that Sunday’s result was surprising?

Vincent: Yeah, but our teams full of millionaires. They’re no fucking understudies

Jules: Ahh, so you’d agree you currently know more about hockey than you did in 1980?

Vincent: Yeah, sure. Icing, offside, the whole sundae

Jules: With ya. Back then though, fuck, I didn’t know shit about hockey. I still couldn’t name one fucking red. Yet we’ve been conditioned to interpret the events of February 22, 1980 as miraculous. Why? Miracles are autonomous events, what alcoholics refer to as moments of clarity. Personal shit. Did you even watch the original Miracle on Ice?

Vincent: Nope

Jules:  Me neither, what about Sunday’s game?

Vincent: Yeah

Jules: And were you surprised by the outcome?

Vincent: I suppose you could say it was unexpected

Jules: Exactly! So why has one man’s admittedly uninformed interpretation of a hockey game come to represent that of an entire goddamn hemisphere? Isn’t the genuine surprise of millions of informed citizens heavier than the appropriated exaggeration of one fucking sports coat?

Vincent: This is solitary tree shit Jules. Just because no one watched the Soviets lose doesn’t diminish shit. We beat the commies at the one thing commies did well during a war

Jules: But you’re saying being informed doesn’t matter and I say it do. Lets say Barney lets slip he enjoys Red Apples and a million fucking toddlers start babbling bout how Red Apples be so smooth, Red Apples be the goddamn Marvin Gaye of cigarettes. Would you start smoking Red Apples? Fuck no! Because what do a million goddamn toddlers know bout tobacco? About as much as Americans knew about hockey in 19 fucking 80!

Vincent: Shit Jules, you don’t have to be Kelly Hrudey to realize Amateurs shouldn’t own Professionals –

Jules: But we ain’t talking bout Uncle Sam’s oranges and apples, we talking bout fucking radioactive oranges and Johnny’s apples. Ain’t the same fucking thing. The “Miracle on Ice” inherently presumes that 1) Commies produced the greatest hockey players in the world and 2) America had no fucking business defeating the Soviets. It passively suggests American vulnerability. It suggests weakness. I ain’t having it

Vincent: Interesting point…

Jules: Hell of a geopolitical victory though. Might justify the noise…

Vincent: Fuck…

State of the Podium: Super Sunday Edition

Lazily appropriating the lazy appropriations of others, Own the Podium style!!

Oh Canada: Most are enjoying the Winter Olympics, but where are the medals? – Christian Science Monitor

Still, Canada’s medal haul has been underwhelming, especially given the expectation set by the Own the Podium program: to win the overall medal count – Christa Case Bryant


Ownership uncertain, play it out, North Pole style

For Sale: Podium – Winnipeg Free Press


Up for bidding, Black Sox Style

Amid glitches, Canada making these games a Winner – Vancouver Sun

Do we own the podium yet, or has it been shoved back down our throats? – Cleve Dheensaw


Since the Podium can either be owned or a consistent source of potential asphyxiation, I’m going to assume he’s alluding to Russ Grimm’s regurgitated hot dog

Americans ‘killing it’ at Vancouver Olympics while Canadian athletes can only watch and wonder – The Star-Ledger


Deceased, TJ Lavin style. Lil Wayne’s having a shirt sent over

Morrison blames Own the Podium following 1500m loss – CTV

But as Morrison watched his former training partner accept the silver medal on Saturday, he lashed out at Canada’s ambitious Own the Podium program, which prevented him from training with the superstar American – Grant Robertson


Podium be like J-Coops, circa Season 1, obstructing love

Why this Olympics is already a winner – Toronto Star

All that Own the Podium rhetoric, and the now modified downward expectations, doesn’t really amount to a hill of beans – Rosie Dimanno


Right on Rosie, beans and all

When Fencing Signified Cold

QT’s tribute to the Winter Pentathlon. Expect a paper, Google Scholar

You’ve heard it from old-school bros who grew up in a day when men were men and boys were scared. You’ve heard it from your girlfriend’s buzzing step-uncle. You’ve rationally defended it or drunkenly had its back. As long as women play sports or golf is televised or ESPN2 attracts the unemployed, rhetorical tradesman the world over will rely on the same phrase to denounce sporting credentials with:

It’s not even a sport

Boom! Legitimacy? limited. The mainstream? a dream. Case? closed.

You’ve know its hurt; officially enraptured by a So You Think You Can Dance marathon, surprised by a stumbling, hungover bro;

Dancing?!?! It’s not even a sport!

Embarrassing? Definitely. Most definitely embarrassing, however, is realizing you can’t rely on the official positions of the International Olympic Committee for cover.

YOU/ME: DanceSport is officially recognized by the IOC dude

BRO/ME: One word bro: Uncontested

As inspiration to all you pseudo-sports affixed with the word ball or sport*, stuck in IOC purgatory, waiting for that 70th country to appreciate you for just the way you combine the fundamental elements of popular sport, let me present to you the absurdity of the fantastical failures of failed Demonstration Sports: Winter Olympics Style. In descending order, of course:

3) Winter Pentathlon – 1948

Winter pentathlon was like the Jan Brady of 1948 Winter Olympic Demonstration Sports; totally overshadowed by the magnificence of its 1948 demo-twin, Military Patrol (Ian McKellen voice-over; You, my dear, know it by a different name; Biathlon. Da Vincied!!) The Winter Pentathlon’s Summer sister,  and the older bro, let’s say the Greg Brady, decathlon are revered competitions that have been known to establish the greatest athlete on earth (when the victor is American) Plus, this guy! 34 years later!!

At least the hypothetical victors of the Winter Pentathlon were spared the terror of experiencing Bruce Jenners’ face as victors of the Winter Pentathlon. Probably wouldda been worse for them as victor peers

Honestly though, attempting to celebrate the human best equipped to handle the cold seems like a slam-dunk; entertaining, efficient, and effective entertainment. Unfortunately, the father of Winter Pentathlon had either 1) never experienced winter 2) shamelessly pandered to the Summer crowd or 3) metaphorically procreated with their metaphorical sister. The results:

Downhill Skiing – Hot

Cross-Country Skiing – Hot

Shooting – Cold

Horseback Riding – Really, very Cold

Fencing – Amputated due to ignorance

Thank goodness people aren’t actually developing that kind of skill-set though. Would be a bunch of villains straight outta Robin Hood

2) Bandy – 1952

Bandy could be described as Field Hockey on Ice, if Field Hockey on Ice were governed by the Rules of Soccer. Or Broomball with Skates, A Far Bigger Playing Surface, and an Intricately Designed Ball. Or, known here as; totally deserving of the number 2 spot. According to Wikipedia, Bandy is awesome and was actually introduced as a Demonstration sport at the Olympics 5 years before a World Championship was established. Unfortunately, Bandy failed to live up to the hype of the 1950s hype-racket, currently existing in widespread oblivion due to the Mash-Up Backlash from Collision Course and the overwhelming impracticalities of staging a match (an ice-ified soccer pitch?!?! Even cold Dubai wouldn’t be having that)

Get me a hot-tub time machine so I can invest in the disregard for Bandy bond!

1) Speed Skiing – 1992

To me, Vancouver 10’s lack of Demonstration Sports is nothing less than the end of imagination. Innovation, imagination, its all over. If life were an Archie comic, thought clouds would contain CSI: Miami and nothing else. Tragic, yes, but what else can explain Vancouver 10’s reprehensible lack of Speed Skiings? By simply isolating speed, Albertville theoretically created three new medals and the corresponding interest each little trinket demands within each competitor’s country. Give me one mile of ice and one mile of snow, flatten em, tilt em sideways and send down the skiers, snowboarders, biathletes, triathletes, short-trackers, long trackers, sliders and bob-sledders. Truly the epitome of Demonstration Sport. Case of the greatest fantastical demonstrative recreational activity with the potential to become an officially contested recreational activity, Failure Edition, Winter Remix; Closed.

*Seriously, there everywhere