I am generally completely bored at the idea of watching any kind of sport until the Olympics rolls around, and then I'm a sports super-fan. Right this very minute I'm watching the Russian pairs skaters and I'm not even watching my hands type this.
Eight years ago Mitch and I were going to start practicing for ice dancing. We were thinking of doing pairs, but I'm afraid of heights and I don't know if I'd trust him to toss me spinning through the air with blades on my feet, expecting me to land in a way that doesn't result in orthopedic surgery and weeks in the intensive care unit of a hospital. We practiced our moves (move). It was mostly melodramatic "look at me - don't look at me" choreography.
I watched moguls last night. I never even knew what a mogul was until I was on a youth group ski trip to Giant's Ridge when I was in eighth grade. I was an okay skier (as good as a skier can be without knowing what a mogul is) and I decided to go down a hill I hadn't tried yet. About half way down I ran into the moguls and was wondering why the hell anyone would groom a hill like that. It was a spine crushing little surprise. I didn't know you were supposed to sort of skirt the outside of them and let your knees take the impact, so I was out of control going fast enough over the top of one to jump it and land horribly on the next one, regain enough control to involuntarily jump the next one etc. etc. all the way down the hill.
I'm old enough now where I'm no longer jealous of the olympians. I used to think that if I just would have stayed in figure skating I could be there myself. (stop laughing) Now I'm happy if I can beat an old guy in a fifty yard race in the pool at the Y.