I'm sitting here, watching the closing ceremonies of the Winter Olympics, and I'm glad it's over.
Now it's not the Olympics in general. I LOVE the Olympics. But for some reason, I found Sochi to be flat.
Maybe it's because I'm a Summer Olympics kind of guy; I'd much rather watch Michael Phelps and swimming than whoever the heck is participating in ice dancing. Not ice skating. Ice. Dancing.
Maybe it's the traumatic moments I had as a young man trying to ski for the first, and last, time.
But right now, I'm looking at some Russian folk in upside down houses, and I'm hoping that tomorrow's Black List is a new episode.
There was nothing that held my interest. No Cinderella story. No American darling who took the Olympic field by storm. And I certainly wasn't impressed with the "scenic" Sochi landscape.
I'm not sure if I'm the only one who feels this way. But I have a feeling that I'm not.
So here's to Rio de Janeiro in 2016. Here's hoping Phelps comes out of retirement for another run.
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