The Plow guy

 

I got home one night this week, turned on the TV, and Nathan Chen's short program on the Olympics was about to begin.  I like to watch figure skating.   After listening to the color commentators building up the importance of this skate to Nathan ... to America ... to the World, and the devastation if he were to fall during one of his jumps, I changed channels.  I couldn't bear the anxiety.  Later when I heard he'd done really well, I watched his performance on YouTube.  I wish the Olympics could go back to hosting only amateur athletes.  I feel for these kids that have spent their lives perfecting one skill for this one moment.  What do they put on their resume when they finally have to make a living in the real world - "I can do a triple lutz."?   Maybe my issue is more with the commentators who want to build excitement in the viewing public.  I'd like them to explain what's going on but without all of the emotional baggage.  Of course, the real problem is me.   I have a low tolerance for angst.  Tonight, for example, I was watching a new rendition of the play Romeo and Juliet.  While I adore Shakespeare, I switched off the TV before the end.  Couldn't endure watching the last agonizingly anguishing act.