Tag Archives: Phelps

Day 11: Is Eight Enough?

As of midnight last night, I was going to have to watch this morning’s swimming session on a TV in the media center. Swimming is such a tough ticket that even members of the credentialed media have to have a ticket. And the IOC is only offering so many. (We could only score one.) So, since Luke hadn’t seen a swimming event yet, today’s ticket was his. BUT, around 1 a.m. last night, after we got back from the 100 meter finals, Luke talked his way to a second ticket. Score!

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The Real Fireworks

Fourth of July weekend is meant to be spent licking barbecue off your fingertips, lying on the beach lost in a good book or stuffing yourself with homemade goodies until you burst like a Roman candle. But it rained in New York City this weekend. And I didn’t feel like going far from home.

Thank god. Because this was the greatest sports weekend in a very, very, very long time. John McEnroe might argue it was the Best Weekend Ever. (Who do we have to call to get him a guest spot on that VH-1 show?) I knew it was going to be special; but this weekend went beyond special. I felt as if the HDTV gods had scripted three days especially for me.

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