The Hit

Plenty to of angles to view with the 2010 protractor. Especially tonight with;

That 720, misty flip x-up to Olympic Gold?

So there I was at the shack, slinging shit per usual. However tonight was a smidge busier than usual with it being Valentines Day, in addition to some big convention going on in town. Had the free ski moguls on the Sportsnet, and kept glancing over my shoulder, when a split second presented itself, to catch what I could.

Sometimes this tactic works flawlessly. Other times it fails miserably. My Polski compadre, Sziz, and I were engaged in a spirited conversation with some snowbirds from Calgary as well as with a local West End resident. Everyone was eyeing the men's comp with the anticipation that The Nation would finally reel in the big one tonight. After last night though, things remained pretty reserved.

However, we all did notice that Bilodeau had nabbed first and was holding. When his run final run was up, I was fortunate enough that he was wearing a Canada uni and not a Cubs jersey. Around the joint glasses clinked, plates commuted to their tables, and prime rib evaporated. I was oblivious to all of it. For about half a minute I stood literally in the eye of the storm, eyes fixated on the screen as the bustling and chaotic establishment churned around me.

Sometimes you just tune in at the right time.

Watching Alexandre Bilodeau rocket down the moguls course could only make me think of one thing. Skateboarding. As I've mentioned previously, I've ridden some form of board for more years of my life than not. During said years, I've been privy to many, many, many sessions. And this one was one of those will be remembered for years to come.

Why?

Not because he won gold. But because he nailed that trick.

He took off from the gate like the demon on the Maudite label, and sucked up every mogul like it was the last pint of the aforementioned bière in existence. Knowing he had to come up with a seriously, continental sized run to clinch, I could only speculate what he'd throw off the first huck. But I didn't even come close as the bizzare McTwist x-up, (as best as Sziz and I could surmise) was thrown down with such authority and landed with out an afterthought that I knew it would be impossible to beat.

It was like a session of days past, skating at China when you see that guy drop in, who has absolutely no fear, yet all the balance in the world. The guy that blasts monster backside grabs out of the bathtub routinely. Only to veer hard left into the teacup and carve it up like it's a Christmas roast beast in Who-ville. And then when you least expect it throws down one move that's so insane you remember it for years. Like my friend who kick flipped into the vertical teacup. Or the dude that nose manualled around the whole park for a lap only to drop into the cup before annihilating it. The guy that doesn't own the podium but owns the bowl.

And that's what Bilodeau did when he launched and landed that crazy 720 headed beast. When skaters land something so sickeningly, putrid that it can't be believed to be possible, they bang their decks against the coping or concrete or whatever's handy.

If I had my board I would have smashed it against the bar, probably snapping it in two, when Bilodeau stuck it and kept going only to size up his next line.

I poured up a round of Maple Whiskey for us all. The snowbirds, the local, the Pollock and myself all toasted the historic Gold.

If Bode Miller started swilling this instead of Pabst, he'd win gold as well.