The Vancouver Winter Olympics come in at #4 on my list of my favorite blogging moments of 2010. I particularly appreciated the trend this year to cast scantily clad hardbodies athletes in magazines in order to promote the competition, national pride, and team spirit.
I also appreciated the opportunity that the Olympics provided me to learn from so many readers who are much better informed concerning winter sport than I am. I had several tips come in that helped me suss out where to focus my attention in order to catch the hottest meat on snow and ice.
Speed skaters continue to be my most anticipated winter Olympic eye candy. The massive, mounded, shredded thighs packed into lycra are just unbeatable. When there’s an unmistakable bulge at the crotch screwing with the aerodynamics, so much more the better.
I confess to getting a little caught up in the patriotic melodrama of the event this time around. Typically, I’m teflon when it comes to “for the motherland” plots. But even I, a guilt-wracked, privilege-ambivalent American, had to admit that seeing Canada win hockey gold was awfully satisfying. And I still say Canadian hockey man-of-the-moment, Sidney Crosby, looks like Brad Rochelle!
The best moment of moments, and I predict a precursor of things to come, was boarder hotty Scotty Lago getting caught on camera with his bronze medal wrapped around his tiny little waist, pulling up his shirt to reveal his sliced-to-shreds abs and hip tat, in order to allow an eager fan to lick the bronze medal dangling in front of his crotch. Scotty was rushed out of Vancouver in a flash. Apologies and recriminations were made. There was an official gasp of scandal. But I think Scotty is just ahead of his time. The Olympics are bound to get more overtly sexy in the future. The victorious competitor with a body built for worship is all about sex. Sure, there’s national pride. Sure, there’s the profound satisfaction of being the best you can be, and that being better than anyone else. But let’s face it, like all animals, we compete to determine which buck gets first pick in mating season. I say leave Scotty alone, and if he ever needs his bronze medal shined again, he can give me a call any day.
While I still say that the cards are stacked against the Winter Olympics when it comes opportunities to lust over the world-class athletes (too much gear!), I had a fun time keeping one eye on Vancouver and the other eye combing the internet for more exposés on the hot, hard bodies of winter sport. For the monster thighs, massive bulges, and hi-tech lycra bodysuits of the future, the Winter Olympics rank #4 for my favorite moments in blogging in 2010. I raise a glass to toast the drama, the thrill of competition, and most of all, the world class bodies.
Sidelineland 