August 25, 2008

Tears on My Speedo: An Olympic Trail of Broken Dreams


As the first Totalitarian Olympics since 1936 oozes away in our rear-view mirror, it’s time to reflect on the high-minded lessons they taught to a troubled world. I know, for example, that contemporary tyrants such as Robert Mugabe (rhymes with “Zimbabwe”) looks on the works of the Chinese Communist Party and thinks, “Hey, with a few more billion people under my thumb, and more UN funding, I could do that.

I know that the current government of Britain, even though they beclowned themselves last night with a Monty Pythonesque promotion for the 2012 games, thought to themselves, “Hey, with only 30 billion pounds in new taxes from our disarmed citizens, we can do that.


"The bus was surrounded by a scruffy bunch of chavs.... which made it look as though they were about to loot the bus, shake down anyone who was on board, and strip the vehicle to its axles before setting it alight."

And I know that many of my fellow countrymen will join me when, after America’s Aquaman Michael Phelps sucked up gold medals like a baleen whale hoovers krill, said along with me, “Hey, I could do that.”

No? Hey, if I can, you can, and I can. You just have to adjust your attitude. You just have to learn to say, "Yes, we can!"

It’s clear that grabbing gold in the pool is the easiest gig in the Games. If it wasn’t would everybody in a race finish within three nanoseconds of each other? Gold, schmold. That’s a tie in my book.

As we saw over and over again in the 2008 games, the charmingly corrupt Olympics Committee is a sucker for both cold dictatorship cash and stupid new sports; i.e. “Cycling BMX” aka “midget meth-freaks riding bikes in vacant lots.” It is obvious that for me to compete and triumph, all I have to do is find a new sport with a lot of video appeal, palm Jacques Rogge some Pesos, and get him to pop it on the schedule.

But what new, unheard of swimming pool sport could I conjure that gives me the edge over other athletes a mere 40 years my junior? Ay, there’s the rub-a-dub-dub.

Speaking of which….

Last night in my tub, while playing “Battleship” with two rubber duckies and “The Big Torpedo” it came to me like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead: “All Male Solo Synchronized Swimming!” Like a Cuervo Marguerita it was Genius!

Yes, just me, a recording of “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” an Olympic pool, a nose-clip, and a Speedo. That’s all it would take… along with practice, practice, practice, and bacon-cheeseburgers. After all, even though my competitors would have 4 decades on me, I would have something extra they didn’t -- 4 decades worth of added flotation. That, coupled with 8 large bong hits and a complete lack of shame, was sure to get me gilded.

I ventured out to a nearby pool and tried out my basic routine for, as we like to say in the Web 2.0 world, “Proof of Concept.” I used my nom de guerre, Blake "The Swan" McKinney.

You can hit pause at any time. In fact, you will.

Not bad for a dry run, eh? Just imagine this in four years! It’s easy if you try.

The concept was pure gold all by itself: “Solo” “Synchronized” “Swimming.” It was revolutionary. It was my wet dream of Olympic glory made manifest. And then, as it always does when you think you have a brilliant idea, Google dried up my dream.

It turns out that solo synchronized swimming is not only a thriving competitive sport in the Wild and Wacky World of Wet Girls; it was an Olympic sport for nearly 10 years before being dropped from the roster in 1992. Humorless times, the Nineties.

It is hard to determine exactly why the Olympics dropped Solo Synchronized Swimming after 1992, but it could not be for lack of interest. Nor could it be only because critics as well as other very drugged and drunk people when watching Solo Synchronized Swimming all say, “You gotta be kidding me!”

If they scoff they have not seen She-Wolf-in-a-Nose-Clip Gemma Mengual snarl her way through the splash in Montreal in 2005 (Stay tuned in for the slo-mo instant replay at the end):

I mean if you like Olympic all-girl beach volleyball (And who from George Bush to Rosie O’Donnell does not?), there has to be a warm place in your heart for Gemma Mengual and the sloshing Speedo kicks and splits of the Solo Synchronized Swimming Sisterhood. So why does the Olympics continue to keep this hot wet and wild event from the combined sport and soft-porn audiences of the world?

Because the IOC is a satanic LGTB conspiracy! I submit it is nothing other than pure reverse ageist sexism. It is a clear attempt to keep men such as myself from invading the sacrosanct stealth-lesbian realms of Synchronized Swimming.

As above, so below

And even if the racist barriers of sexism and ageism of Olympic team synchronized swimming still unite to squash my Olympic dream to a damp patch of mildew in the shower stalls of life, there is still – I fervently believe – a shred of hope that the proud sport of Solo Synchronized Swimming for Guys may yet find a place to podium on the high heights of the Olympics.

Just this year we saw the darling debut of “Synchronized Diving” at the Olympics. Ignore those wags that reviewed this elegant spectacle as looking like “a gay suicide pact.” It is fabulous! Remember that they laughed at Liberace and it wasn’t for his piano playing.

And also take heart from the youth of Solo Synchronized Swimming who are determined to tear down the walls of prejudice. Youth such as this boy with a dollar, a dream, and a nose clip:

Kenyon Smith: "I never look for trouble, but I never ran ...."

If Kenyon can breakthrough, there’s hope for me. He won’t give up and neither will I. Look for us in London in 2012 as not only the finalists in the Son and Dad Synchronized Swimming Competition, but as the only entrants.

Training for 2012 begins today! Pass the bacon cheeseburgers!

Posted by Vanderleun at August 25, 2008 6:14 PM | TrackBack
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"It is impossible to speak in such a way that you cannot be misunderstood." -- Karl Popper N.B.: Comments are moderated and may not appear immediately. Comments that exceed the obscenity or stupidity limits will be either edited or expunged.

Can't modern science come up with a better nose plug?

Maybe a dollop of hot wax in each nostril.

Posted by: Mumblix Grumph at August 25, 2008 7:16 PM

"As the world’s first Totalitarian Olympics since 1936"

You are leaving out Moscow 1980.

Posted by: Fat Man at August 25, 2008 7:35 PM

Why let facts spoil truth?

Posted by: vanderleun at August 25, 2008 8:12 PM

Time to come out of the pool.

Posted by: David McKinnis at August 25, 2008 8:29 PM

Closing ceremonies were last night. All in all I say it was a great olympics - too many commercials though. I hope Phelps makes some good endorsement money for all of his hard work.

Posted by: Swimming Pool Contractor at August 25, 2008 8:36 PM

If they scoff they have not seen She-Wolf-in-a-Nose-Clip Gemma Mengual snarl her way through the splash in Montreal in 2005

That kind of looks like a simulated shark attack.

Although that she-shark can attack me anytime. Just not in a pool. I drown easily.

Posted by: rickl at August 25, 2008 10:47 PM

That, coupled with 8 large bong hits and a complete lack of shame, was sure to get me gilded.

If not that, then perhaps gelded.

Posted by: Yanni.Znaio at August 25, 2008 11:52 PM

Dear Mr. VanDerLeun,

You obviously didn't watch everything. In the one snippet of the Olympics I saw while at a friend's house (I got tired of commercials about 50 years ago) we watched France and Croatia play a game of which I do not know the name.

It was a combination of basketball, soccer, water polo and hockey. It was played on a court a little smaller than a basket ball court. There were six players and a goalkeeper on each side. The goals looked like soccer goals. It was played with a ball a little larger than a softball. You are allowed some steps, never did figure out how many, then you had to "dribble" the ball - bounce it on the floor. The idea was to throw the ball past the goalkeeper - just like water polo. Hockey? When a player was penalized he had to go to a penalty box for two minutes. Also, as in hockey, the clock went up instead of counting down.

If you happen to know the name of this game - please, please don't tell me.


Posted by: Roy Lofquist at August 26, 2008 6:29 AM

Cheeseburgers in paradise.

Posted by: askmom at August 26, 2008 7:27 AM

"""""If you happen to know the name of this game - please, please don't tell me."""""""

Handball. It's called handball, and is not to be confused with American "handball" where two players ricochet a small ball off a wall.

You could call what you saw "European" handball.

Oh, Hey! Woops! You said NOT to tell you.

Ha Ha. Too late.

Posted by: Roderick Reilly at August 26, 2008 9:06 AM

Gemma Mengual:

"JAWS meets 'L'Apres Midi D'Une Faun"

Posted by: Roderick Reilly at August 26, 2008 9:10 AM

Dear Roderick,

I warned you! Actually, thank you - I'll know how to program the Tivo next time.


Posted by: Roy Lofquist at August 26, 2008 7:28 PM