King Carl Gustaf and me
March 9, 2010For many Canadians, last Monday marked a return to reality. It doesn’t get any more mundane than Monday, March 1st.
Whether you spent the last hours of February reveling in beer-induced patriotism, or in grim avoidance of that I Believe song, it’s definitely a bit of a downer from Olympic reverie. Years from now, how many children born in November 2010 will look back to Sidney Crosby’s heroics as inspiring a glint in their father’s eye?
UBC cancelled school for the two Olympic weeks. A perfect opportunity for journalism students to make some hay! I took a job as a media liaison officer with Olympic Broadcasting Services.
It meant working with biathletes, ski jumpers, and cross-country skiiers, as well as Olympic broadcasters of an array of nationalities. I was a broadcaster bouncer, an interview timer, and a media cop both good and bad (depending on the situation).
It also meant rubbing shoulders with some interesting folks. Here’s me with a Swedish coterie, including His Highness Carl XVI Gustaf.
King Carl XVI Gustaf (centre, in ball cap), me in Power Ranger uniform.
Coming down into from three weeks in Whistler village, I only have a modest Olympic hangover. At $7-8 pints, I couldn’t afford anything more.
