2009 Birds of Prey

Howdy all. I'm finally back in Steamboat after a weekend down at Beaver Creek for the Birds of Prey World Cup. All in all, it was a successful weekend full of the usual sights and sounds common to us spectators: I was almost clotheslined by Bode Miller as he headed to the lift after his inspection, I spoke with one of Ski Pool Norway's coaches on the public transit bus as he held Svindal's bouquette, and the rioting Marco Sullivan fan club almost trampled me. Like I said, nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the course itself, which is never ordinary.


The course set put a steak-ton of emphasis on the Harrier Jump, which saw a few interesting turns-for-the-worst and a few even more interesting turns-for-the-better, especially from the mid to late skiers. The Golden Eagle was, as always, a major factor of provocative "coolness" -- the kind of thing we love as spectators and curse as racers. After all, spectators can't feel a bootboard being smacked against the bottom of their foot with the force of a Mack truck blasting through a water pipe. I couldn't feel it either today, so I cheered with the rest of the crowd when one or two racers rolled the window down more than they thought and became aerialists for a moment or two off the Golden Eagle.

I contemplated pulling Didier Cuche aside just before the race and asking to trade places for the day. He wasn't standing too far away, and I wanted to scream through a downhill like a basket of brussells sprouts wants to be dead-stocked. I decided against it, since he probably had some intention of actually trying to win. He did have such intentions, and managed to place second behind the latest Swiss wonderkid, Carlo Janka. Janka also won the super combi yesterday, so his double-dip is honestly impressive.

Bode's run was Bode's run. The crowd spent more time yelling and ghasping than actually focusing on the screen, and he cranked through the finish before we all knew what was going on. He was in first, but not for long, and would eventually fall to number four and disappear into the aspens into what I can only imagine is a giant motorhome with a full staff and a stocked refrigerator. I don't mention the stocked refrigerator in reference to his now famous "skiing hungover"-interview, but simply because today's race called for a cold one, and his run in particular.

"What do they have you doing during the race?" I asked one BC volunteer. He smiled and replied with zest, "We stay the hell out of the way!"

It was a successful weekend that got me thinking about another foray into racing. Maybe I'll start doing masters or find more beer leagues to enter. Thanks to Beaver Creek for the continued inspiration, the $25 tee shirts, the free AlkaSeltzer, and the most complex fricking parking scheme this side of Fenway Park.

Cheers.