Olympics Notebook: Vancouver 2010
Raining hockey pucks at the Olympics
Covering hockey at ice level is rarely without excitement but usually without injury to photographers … until the game I was working at last Friday.
I was covering the last of three hockey games in one day from our assigned position in a seat against the glass. During second period a puck that was shot up to the net above the glass dropped straight down and hit me on the leg. I didn’t think much of it and while fans scrambled for the loose puck I thought ‘what are the chances of that happening?’
Then during the third period another puck was shot up into the net and came straight down, this time on my head.
I did not see it coming but knew what it was when it hit, and I thought ‘hmmm I just got hit on the head with a puck…’ It didn’t hurt much but I felt my head and found it bleeding. I cleared my cameras and laptop away, leaned over the isle watching blood drip from my head to a pool in the floor, and signaled for help.
A doctor from the crowd came down and said the cut didn’t look too deep. Soon a couple of medics appeared, moved me to a seat a couple rows up, and proceeded to wrap an over sized bandage around my head. They stood me up and as we walked up the isle, spectators in the two neighboring sections applauded. The medic told me that they were applauding for me. Embarrassed and laughing, the only thing I could think of to do was to wave to acknowledge their applause.
We arrived to the clinic onsite and after getting treatment I walked out to a group of waiting colleagues who were concerned and eager to show me the photos, some of which had already been tagged on Facebook.
Thanks Vancouver, the Games were a blast
If it wasn’t magic from Sidney Crosby, what was it? A flick of the wrist from the world’s best hockey player, the dreams of 33 million Canadians were made real and the Winter Olympics ended with the flourish they deserved.
El Sid, The Next One, Sid the Kid, #87 … If anyone was going to find a way past Ryan Miller in overtime, and give Canada gold number 14, somehow you knew it was going to him.
The Games are over, after a closing ceremony full of deliciously funny Canadian self-deprecation. As chief organiser John Furlong said, the hockey win over the U.S. will live on for generations in Canada. For the rest of the world, I think the Games as a whole will be remembered pretty fondly too.
Here are a few things I will treasure from my time in Vancouver:
1. The warmth of the welcome from the people of this city blew me away. Vancouver is as laid back as a Californian snowboarder, and if I occasionally found myself spitting feathers at how it could take five minutes — FIVE MINUTES — to prepare a cup of coffee, or how two beers — TWO BEERS — could possibly cost 20 dollars, including two types of sales tax and tip, well, you know, that probably said more about me than The Couver.
2. Hockey. Who knew that 200 feet of ice could be the stage for such an electrifying occasion, and I don’t just meant the final against the United States. Hockey has that mix of athleticism, skill and spite all great sports need and if it wasn’t for the terrible music they play at the slightest provocation — I mean, the Banana Boat Song? Ob La Di Ob la Da? Please … — I could really get into it.
3. Snowdudes. The various types of snowboarding and freestyle skiing seem intent on outdoing each other not only in the gravity-defying invention of the jumps and the organised mayhem of their races, but also in just how casual the athletes can be in their reaction to triumph or disaster. ”Awesome” is about all they say when they win, while spectacular falls and lost medals are greeted with a shrug of the shoulder. Totally sick, man. Ill.
Puck! what bad luck! Don’t cover any javelin events