I have never been a sports-type person. Sure, I watched footy with my dad, played netball and softball at school, and cricket was the soundtrack to every summer of my childhood. I know the rules, vaguely who the players are. But I don’t follow it. I don’t care who wins, except that Queensland beats New South Wales in the State of Origin (that’s some kind of genetic Queenslander thing, I suspect).
So every Olympics, I try to tell myself I’m not interested. It’s not like these elite athletes are curing cancer or anything, after all…
But then I get sucked in. Because humans doing stuff they’re good at is always something to marvel at. You don’t need all a slow-mo montage set to sweeping orchestral strains to do it, but it does help.
What has really drawn my attention to the Sochi Winter Olympics this year has been, of course, Russia’s controversial human rights record (a whole ‘nother blog post to be written by someone more knowledgeable than me), but also the plight of the poor sports journalists who have arrived to find some facilities not yet completed. Some might say that they should stop whining about your First World problems, but when you’re hosting an event that has the eyes of the world on you, perhaps it is best to try to keep the reporters happy?
Anyways, I won’t be staying up until the wee hours every night to watch the snowy goings-on, but I will be watching the nightly recaps. After all, it is a good feeling when your team wins.
Hi, I'm Sarah! I'm 33 and searching for my passion.
Until then, I slog away in a cubicle working full-time and focus on enjoying my downtime with things like TV (my old friend), movies, twitter, (trying to) cook, reading and hanging out with my hubby. My head is turned by things like vintage homewares, stationery, chocolate and scrapbooking. I blog about whatever takes my fancy.