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7/21/2004 » Olympics, Humor | 
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Faster, harder, stronger
Ousted Olympians let the good times unroll
At the Albertville winter Olympics, condom machines in the athletes’ village had to be refilled every two hours. And in Sydney the organisers’ original order of 70,000 condoms went so fast that they had to order 20,000 more.
Yes, Virginia, athletes are running game at the Games. There are 10,000 specimens of physical perfection at one glorious party. But we ain’t tokin’ about no Tao of Steve. These are the nerds of the jock world, those who liberated the expression ‘trying too hard’ from geeks everywhere. Aerodynamic drag, full-body catsuits, superoxygenation, glycogen monitoring. Like great horny cicadas, they converge every few years to mate before burrowing back into training. ‘I feel the need, the need to breed!’ And since they’ve shaved and tapered, they’re on a sugar high and feeling smooth ’n purty:
"When you have 10,000 people walking around who are amped up on their own glycogen, you can almost see the sparks flying off their skin..."
Sadly, if they miss the cut, there’s nothing to do but... party with hardbodies. So that’s what the Indian basketball team does all day!
The athletic tourists - from more than 200 countries - are in the vast majority. "Athletes who are knocked out early have basically a two-week, all-expenses-paid vacation with nothing to do... And that’s when things happen."
Olympians even get a directory for email stalking. It’s just like missed connections. ‘You: stunning female cyclist with 56” quads. Me: Short, balding power-lifter. Our eyes met across the velodrome. I clean-and-jerked the Turkish cycling team. Email me at...’ No wonder they’re so fixated on the Olympics, the parties are their noble due:
"I saw this beautiful ski racer, from Greece of all places. She had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. I saw her at the village and sent her an e-mail... We tried to talk, which wasn’t very successful," says Buechel, "and then we started to drink, which was much more successful." And? "It was very beautiful," he says. "A beautiful international incident."
Ah, border skirmishes are so romantic. Especially when a long, hard campaign across the southern wetlands succumbs to ‘an entreaty for piece.’ But what’s the etiquette for sex and the single Olympian? Do you smoke afterwards, or do you just toss a PowerBar and sprint to your heat, in heat? And should you patronize the soda jerk beforehand? It’s all so unclear:
[D]octors at a Jerusalem sex clinic advised women on the Israeli team to have sex before their events. "Women compete better after orgasm, especially high-jumpers and runners," one of the doctors claimed. The German team physician endorses sex for male and female athletes, saying: "Sex does not cause any loss of strength."... "More sex means more gold."
Funny, I thought it worked the other way around. But the main medal event is the universal sport of booty-knockin’. The buzz around the Olympic Village is that the Cubans ran out of condoms first, and the French were the most promiscuous (but only with each other). The Aussies were the most liquored-up, except for the Winter Games, when the Canadians took the Molson. And watching the athletes pass by is like ‘Animal Planet’:
"The bikers have skinny little upper bodies, farmer tans and massive, clean-shaven thighs. Invert them and you get the kayakers, who have skinny little legs and massive backs and shoulders. The seven-foot-tall giant who ducks under the doorway entering the cafeteria is probably from basketball. The seven-foot giant who smacks his head on the door frame is definitely a rower; they don’t have that hand-eye coordination thing. The kids running at the rowers’ ankles with the high-pitched voices are gymnasts... Being at the village is like taking your place in a wild anatomical parade seen nowhere else on the planet."
The Games are their own eugenics program, their very own version of the Patel phone directory. I predict that in the 2020 Olympics, there will be more than a few young’uns who go by the name of ‘Athens.’ Where will the next generation of Olympians come from? It ain’t hard to conceive.
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