'Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when...'

I cracked open the bottle of 2004 Grignolino Port (Heitz) from Alyshia and Mike last night. Premature celebration of crossing over into another year, and after 2 shots I dozed. On the couch, vintage position, with the telly blaring. I woke just in time to see the French, Czech Republic and Swede skiers crash in spectacular, vertical, spine-altering fashion as the women's downhill run played out in brutal, icy, treacherous conditions...drama so riveting it compelled you to watch. Scared witless, I reached for the Boukha, fig brandy, and poured myself a wake-up shot. I felt like it was 1976; hunkered down in a motel all stony with my one of my girlfriends watching the Oly's from Innsbruck, the Men's downhill. Fog and wind? Or was it me? I don't know. Last night was deja-vu all over again. Lindsey Vonn. Hurtling down the mountain hitting pockets of ice over a course that punished and pulled skiers through G force riptides as they fought violent sweeping curves. High altitude insanity! A spectacle layered with anguish. Competitors had only one day to make a preliminary run and examine the course and even that was daunting and questionable. I could barely watch Vonn as she careened through the turns. Bigger than most of the other women and using men's skies, a frenetic blur. Franz Klemmer or was it Lindsey Vonn? If you watched, you knew this was special. That it was hall of fame greatness right before your eyes. The stuff of legends. The stuff you keep and conjure up on a winter day when you're telling some kid a story about athletic determination, sacrifice, and the the will to achieve at the highest level...winter oly's 2010.