Barbara Fusar Poli, the Italian ice dancer, now claims that she wasn't angry with her partner after Sunday's spill-filled event, she was just upset.

Glad to hear it, because this sure didn't look like "upset" to me.

Nor did her storming around and ignoring her partner before their performance. If this is what she doesn't when she's upset, remind me to never tick her off...

Also, when I was a kid, I don't remember so many people switching countries to compete in the Olympics. I mean, sure, you'd get a few people defecting from the U.S.S.R. to other countries and then representing their new home. But this year's Olympic ice dancing competition was chock full of people from one country, skating for another. And I'm not the only one commenting on this. It made the whole event seem calculated and business-like, with little of the national pride and excitement I remember from years ago. But, maybe that was a cold war thing?

Finally, what is going on with their costumes? I understand they're supposed to be free flowing, but for three nights it seemed like it was wall-to-wall tatters. Their skirts hung in shreds, superfluous bits of torn fabric clung to their arms and backs. It truly looked like many of them started out wearing pretty, if unfashionable, formal wear, but then their prom was taken over by vampires and they spent all night fighting in the streets, emerging victorious at dawn with just enough time to get to Olympic Village and skate in their rags. Well, I guess if this ice dancing thing doesn't work out, they can do zombie movies or Thriller.


It may seem like I didn't enjoy this competition, but I did. I found it entertaining and inspiring. But, for three nights my brain had to do SOMETHING while my eyes were entertained by the spectacle, and this is some of what it came up with. I'm saving that breakthrough in waste-free nuclear fission reactions for another post...