Thursday, February 6, 2014

El Amor es de Oro: Day 1

I love the Olympics.  I really do.  So, to show my love for it, I thought I would write a little short story for each day of the competition.  Enjoy!

February 6, 2014

"We made it!"  Max said, jumping up and down.  I nearly fell over as he shook me, dark blue suitcases in hand.

"Seriously, calm down." I said, moving with the crowd into the Olympic Village.  I fumbled in my backpack for my entrance pass.

"Well, excuse me."  Max said as we got in line behind a group of girls speed-talking in French.  "I'm just a bit excited that we finally got into the Olympics."

I chuckled a bit as we moved forward.  "This is your dream.  I'm just glad you're happy."

"Oh, come on.  If it was just my dream, you wouldn't have nearly pushed me off the team in qualifiers."

"I didn't even know what curling was until you forced me to watch it in Vancouver."

"And hasn't it made your life so much better?"

"It's definitely made it more interesting."  I said as I handed over my pass.  The woman scanned it, then handed it back to me.

"Welcome to Sochi, Mr. White."  she said.

"Thank you." I said, picking up my bags and meeting up with the rest of the Americans.

"Alright, guys!"  one of the coaches said.  "I know you're all excited, but just remember to be smart.  We're on Floor 3 in Building A.  Get your room mates and get settled in."

We picked up our bags and all moved as one unit through the halls.  Athletes in uniforms conversed in what sounded like every language around the world.  More people than I'd ever seen before were milling about, relaxing, joking, hanging out.  In a small cafe, people were sitting, staring at figure skating on flat screens.

Max and I set our bags down in our room.  I started to unpack as Max dashed out of the room, probably to get a Coke or something.

Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door.  I turned around to see a tall, lanky fellow with dark hair and a bright, white smile in the open door.

"Hey, mate.  How you doing?"  he said with the high accent of the Brits.

"Good.  Yourself?"  I said, walking over to him.

"Not bad.  Name's Matt Davis."  he said, holding his hand out.

I took it and gave it a good shake.  "Ryan White."

"Curler?"

"Yeah.  You too?"

"Yeah.  Guess we'll be seeing each other out on the ice."

"Yeah."

He looked down at his watch, then looked back at me.  "Listen, I've got to run.  Some of the Germans are putting together a party down at the ice rink after the ceremony tomorrow.  Tell your roommate to come."

"'Kay.  I will."  I said.

He smiled.  "Great.  Nice to meet you, Ryan."

"Same here, Matt."  I said.  He walked away and I closed the door.  I turned back to my suitcase and resumed unpacking.

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