1 August 2009

The Italian Job

Another day, another ten world records broken.

That's what it seems like anyway, from all the way down here. Each morning when I get home from training I visit omegatiming.com to get all the day's results from Rome, and each morning I feel more discouraged about the state of my old sport.

We used to thrive on the fact that we had something of a pure sport - it was us against the water and the stopwatch. Track had losers like Ben Johnson who shot up all sorts of illegal things - namely Dianabol - in order to make themselves quicker and stronger, and cycling was (and still is) a sport which has for every clean rider, ten guys who take EPO or other drugs to make them unbeatable up Ventoux, in the time trials, and overall. Now, swimming has swimsuits that take the syringes out of doping. It's retarded, and I don't know what it is that makes swimmers need them. What's wrong with a regular swimsuit? If everyone wore them - like the old days - we wouldn't even need to bother with this carry-on. But the drama surrounding them has resulted in legends like Dawn Fraser referring to this year's Worlds as a "laughing stock". Michael Phelps was tempted to withdraw following his silver medal in the 200m freestyle. He finished behind Paul Biedermann, who was decked out in plastic and broke Phelps' old WR with a stupidly quick 1:42.00.

Phelps, who will surely one day soon have a Hollywood feature film based on his life, got his own back in the 200m butterfly - in a pair of relatively "old school" full-length jammers, he broke his own mark by half a second. Excitingly, Japan's Takeshi Matsuda placed third and is helping to cement Japan's place as a world swimming superpower (along with the uber-talented Ryosuke Irie, who earnt silver in the 200m backstroke).

Federica Pellegrini recorded a ridiculous 1:52.98 in the women's 200m freestyle final. It wasn't so long ago that a time like that would have been pretty acceptable for a man. I know I make my dislike for this girl quite clear, but it's because of times like this that I wish FINA had upheld their original ban of the suits. To add further insult to injury, as of January next year, the suits will be banned, but the records set by swimmers like Pellegrini while wearing them will continue to stand. As if she could swim that fast without one. Well, maybe if she stopped frollicking about with that Luca Marin tool, then yes. Buuuut you know.

Happily, Aaron Peirsol had his revenge on the world last night when he won the 200m backstroke final in a new world record of 1:51.92. Yay! Just days ago I was depressed when he failed to make the 100m final, and hoped he would make a good comeback for the 200m. And there you have it. As I previously mentioned, Ryosuke Irie came in second place. I'm just a little bit obsessed with that guy.

Stroke it Irie... mmm-hmm

Some loser named Mikel Astarloza, who won stage sixteen of this year's Tour de France, has tested positive for EPO. What a tool. This is the first positive test for this year's event, and has left cycling fans more than disappointed. It's because of guys like him that people hate cycling. To quote Reggie from Yes Man, "what an asshole".

Today is a particularly depressing Saturday. It's wet, cold, and windy, and I've just driven home from town. Why I ever agreed to meet a friend for lunch on a wet Saturday in town has now escaped me, but of course it was a great palaver. I was however, very satisfied by the sushi we had, and my delicious juice. Thanks, Tank girls. We went OPI hunting afterwards, and I've successfully tracked down "Hawaiian Orchid". I'm so buying that tomorrow! Not that I waste money on nail polish, or anything like that. Whilst in the pharmacy, I saw a gorgeous vogue Japanese boy, helping his Japanese girlfriend buy makeup. I mean, are you serious?! I want a Japanese boy to help me buy makeup!
"You can't have it both ways," Harjeet reminded me. "Do you want an Asian that can help you buy makeup, or an Asian that can carry you to bed?" Good point. I like my boys vogue, but I also like them strong. Hmm.

The filmshoot I attended on Wednesday was directed by a lovely half-Japanese girl named Ayla. I had a good old chat with her mother, Chako, who is from Tokyo. Of course, the conversation naturally drifted to Nayuha, my so-close-to-being-a-Japanese-boyfriend-it-wasn't-funny, and she urged me to go there and get him back. Sigh! I miss my b-boy. Here's a photo.

Japanese lovers aside, the shoot was hailed a success. As with every film ever made, it started off as a doddle, and ended furiously, with quickfire costume changes, hurried makeup and fake blood, and a lot of yawning. I did wonder, at 3:30am when my alarm went off, if I was making a mistake, driving all the way to Titirangi, but we had an excellent time and word on the street is that the film itself is very good. Three cheers for that!

It's just about time for me to head out training again, so I'll leave you with another lame sign-off.

Peace, love and vogue Japanese boys.

No comments:

Post a Comment