A Day I'll not forget

I've decided to run a series of bloggs about days that seem like they happened yesterday. Days that the colours were brighter, and everything seemed more real than the others. When I think of them or tell them, I can almost see and smell the sights as though they were happening again. Does anyone else have these neo-hallucitory experiences or is it just me who's crazy?

With the Olympics being on it reminds me of a day I spent in Calgary. As a 19 year old I was recruited to push a bobsled for a rich Bobsled Driver (you have to be rich to bobsled, thankfully he always covered my costs). We slept at the park dormitory and I woke up to the sound of thunder in the morning, which was in fact the sounds of the bobsled. It doesn't matter what sport you're in, but sometimes you hear the sounds of the game, and your whole body is called to attention. Nostrils flare, muscles stand to attention, and time slows down a little. That was the morning.

I had breakfast with the Jamaican bobsled team which was very novel considering the movie "Cool Runnings" had just come out. Let me tell you, these athletes were nothing like they were in the movie. Not ironically, they looked like 4 Jamaicans rejected from the national track team, stuck in Canada for the winter.

I went down the hill with my driver (darren) for his first time all the way from the top. For those of you who don't know, it would be suicide to just go from the top the first time you drive. It takes years of practice, in Darren's case 3. Still, you have a 50% chance of overturning your sled the first time from the top. If you crash, you will not walk away without some kind of injury. When you practice you have to wear 100% cotton because polyester, and other materials will melt to your skin from the friction of a 450 lb sled traveling on top of you at 120km/hour.

We made it down 3 times, everytime exhilarating. Once we went a little high on a turn and made some sparks ( steel runners on cement ) but that was it. After that this guy from San Francisco (I recognized him later on Cool runnings-he got a little face time on the movie) asked me if I would go with him a few times. This guy had a very fast sled and I reached a personal best 137km/hour on the sled and produced 5 g's on the 270 degree turn after the straightaway. The fifth time down I was so tired I couldn't breath all the way around the turn. I also got my first, and probably last look at my own ass without a mirror as my head got pushed down between my knees and beyond from the pressure.

Afterwards he tryed to recruit me to push for him, but I said no almost exclusively for the reason that he was a jackass. I really should have given it a second thought.

After that was done I helped out with the movie "naked gun 33 1/3" I pushed down a sled that appeared for about 3 seconds on the movie. You know, the part where the vehicle emergency light is on and they go through a whole bunch of different places on their way to a crime scene. I didn't show up in the credits or anything, but I've just begun litigation for the royalties I'm owed.

Afterwards, we went out for supper with Darren's old chum, a DJ for the BEAR radio in Edmonton, a bit of a big wig it turned out. He brought these two Australian women so it appeared I was a fifth wheel. To make things more uncomfortable, we went to a very fancy restaurant. I had not been to anything like this as a 20 year old and I was feeling everybit the Mennonite farm boy. I ordered this appetizer dish that I didn't even know what it was. I got this plate full of these black clams (mussels of course) and I just sat there looking at it because I didn't know how to eat it. One of the Australians had mercy on me and showed me what to do.

All the while the sixth game of the world series was on. Every now and again I would ask the bartender (he had a small tv tucked under the bar) what the score was. As the game continued on into the late innings I became more and more annoyed with my companions who didn't seem to care at all about the most exciting sports event since the rider's won the grey cup in '89.

When I asked the bartender what was going on he told me it was the bottom of the ninth, Ricky Henderson was on first, one out and the score was tied. My feelings of insuperiority vanished and I stood up and announced to the table that I needed to get to a TV immediately because Toronto was about to win the World Series. To my surprise, and I think theirs, everyone jumped up threw money on the table and followed me outside. We walked over to Melrose place on 17th Ave. As I walked in, I looked over a guys shoulder, and looked up in time to see Joe Carter hit a home run and win the world series. The city went electric.

In the celebration I met a girl from back home whom I hadn't seen in several years. Actually, she was THE girl, you know, every school has one. In high school I do not believe the thought would have crossed her mind, but she offered me her number very enthusiastically so we could "go out sometime". The experience was very gratifying, but no, I never called her.

It was hard to fall asleep that night.