My Olympic Dream's Over...

Who hasn’t had an Olympic dream dashed?

Mine’s been the US Women’s Gymnastics team. I know I can’t compete in all the disciplines, but felt pretty confident I could run around twirling that ribbon-on-a-stick.

I’ve been working out again, so my cardio’s pretty good. I’m 5’9”, 185. Oh, and I’m a guy.

So I thought all the bench pressing would give me an edge lifting the ribbon-stick up and down repeatedly.

Then I saw China’s Women’s team. Their premier athlete is 4’6” and 70 lbs. Wedding cake ornaments think she’s petite.

And yes, even though the Chinese Federation claims she’s 16 years old, she probably finished her floor routine, then cuddled up with her blankie and bottle and took a nap ‘cuz she’s 12 yrs old, tops.

Put it this way--she’s like a foot taller than my daughter, who’s 4.

The rest of the Chinese team isn’t much bigger—4’ 8”, 90 lbs, 4’ 10”, 115 lbs. The entire group looks like they could finish practice than sit down and share a Cheerio.

I watched them twirling around on the bars like weightless pixies. One armed spins, somersaulting dismounts, laser-accurate landings….carrying their teddy bears the whole time.

And I realized damn, it’s a young persons sport now. Not like when I tried out for the East German Women’s swim team in the 80’s. And made first alternate.

I’m 40. Yeah, maybe I’m ten pounds overweight but can you put your heart on a scale? Wait, actually you can. I mean, can you measure Patriotism? Can you bottle courage?

I see the Olympic torch held high and man I feel that fire in my gut. And I know somewhere there’s a team for me.

Maybe Lithuania. I hear they need bobsledders.

Fetch, Roll Over...Die.

Saw a woman walking her dog. One of those teacup Pomeranians. They’re small. Look like balls of lint on a leash. That sh*t.

She had a treat for it. But first, she made it jump through more hoops than a circus clown.

Sit up
Speak
Turn in circles
Roll over

The tiny performing lint ball responded to each hand gesture carefully, performing its designated little acrobatic feats with silent efficiency.

And then, it took out a small handgun and shot itself in the face.

No, but it should have. I mean, where’s the dignity?

Forget the fact the things about the size of a hood ornament, but now it’s being trained to give the neighbors a laugh while they sip Pimms cups.

Heaven forbid this poor bastard was ever released back into the wild. Well, or maybe just Bed, Bath And Beyond—still, what’s he got to fall back on?

His most basic animal instincts have been replaced with the ability to stand on its hind legs and wiggle its paws.

Nice.

Try that in the Serengeti when you’re surrounded by snarling hyenas. Seriously, let the dog have what’s left of its life.

Free it to roam grassy, African plains. Well in this case, maybe department store aisles, in search of adventure.

For cocktail hour, just buy a frickken stuffed animal. Throw it in the air. Turn to your guests and say “I taught him everything he knows”. Then pour more drinks.

Because believe it or not, even small dogs have big dreams.

And so does lint.