Mrs Dilo and I were really looking forward to these Olympics in Vancouver and to once again see the world’s top athletes sweating and straining to the very limit of their endurance whilst clad in skimpy vests and skin-tight lycra. But then we remembered that it’s the winter Olympics, and it’s not like that. Everybody’s in a nylon jump-suit like they were on their way to an ABBA convention and goggles so you can’t see if they’re really concentrating or just going through the motions before the après ski. Now, I take full responsibility for my views here: anybody who skis is surely enthralled by every single twist and turn and I bow to their greater knowledge, and indeed fully understand that they may regard my preferred sport, cricket, as about as interesting as a wet Sunday afternoon in Merthyr Tydfil. However, we were a bit peeved and disappointed:
I’m a bit peeved and disappointed.
So am I. And now that that bloke died in a practice session we can’t even hope for people crashing to give us entertainment.
I know. But now it’s a change from the skiing, it’s that jumping thing.
Oh no. Where they slide down a ramp and then fly off the end like one of those tree frogs off of Animal Planet and then land either a bit shorter or a bit longer than the previous bloke but nobody knows why?
Yes. What is there to say about it. Hmm, this one shouldn’t have chosen the red suit.
Indeed. He’s got a Nordic complexion, should have chosen the blue, and preferably in a lighter shade.
Ooh, I think this is the biathlon: they have to ski and then stop and see how many baked beans they can eat.
Baked beans? Are you sure?
It's something like that. Oh no, it's shooting. What's the point of that?
It must be relevant if you live in the arctic tundra of northern Lapland.
But who does?
Bobsleigh’s next. Did you ever see the film Cool Runnings?
About the Jamaican bobsleigh team? I did, and I thought it major missed opportunity. I mean, those lads could have totally taken the mickey out of the event for once and for all instead of trying to win it – they could have had Bob Marley blaring out of the in-bob stereo system and been laughing and smoking ganja all the way down!
That’s an appalling racial stereotype, I’m surprised at you.
Sorry. But you see now to what depths these ridiculous sports send me.
Err, ahem, I think there is speed skating now.
Wah! Oh my G...... Who let the gimps out?! I can’t believe I’m watching this. I’m going to my room to read some Kierkegaard - suddenly I no longer know if there’s any point to existence.
OK. Good luck with that