One of the great things about the Winter Olympics now is that you can do searches on Google limited to news from specific areas, which lets you get a sense of how they’re reporting stories in other parts of the world. I’ve enjoyed watching the coverage of the men’s moguls and rooting against Dale Begg-Smith, a malware purveying Canadian ex-pat who now skis for Australia, while mostly living in Vancouver. This description of the crowd at Cypress by Greg Baum in The Age is fantastic:

Such nuances appear foreign to Begg-Smith. His contained ways are at perverse odds with the ways of his sport. Last night’s crowd was loud and lusty and red. One fan’s leg was in a cast, bringing to mind Banjo Paterson’s Geebung Polo Club: ‘’And the game was so terrific that ‘ere the half-time bell had gone, a spectator’s leg was broken, just from merely looking on.'’

Entertaining writing. And “Banjo Paterson” is an awesome name - turns out he’s also on their $10 bill.

Another great quote from Bruce Kidd in the Sydney Morning Herald, about “Own the Podium”:

Bruce Kidd, a runner, who won gold for Canada and later ran in the 5000 metres as an Olympian – he is now Dean of physical education at the University of Toronto – went further, saying: “I am embarrassed by ‘Own the Podium’ to this extent: we’re saying, ‘World, come to Canada so we can beat the shit out of you.”

And, like the word “coloured” on an Edmonton Oilers broadcast, you see some things in an Australian newspaper that you might not see elsewhere in Canada. From the article with the Bruce Kidd quote:

But over here they still know that those who’ve set out to Own the Podium have also set themselves up for an enormous bite on the arse. And meanwhile the snow will still paint this world, the ice flows still mesmerize and a cripple in a wheelchair still inspire. Medals or not.

This story of a bus trip gone bad in The Age is entertaining as well:

The mood on board quickly turned feral - so much for international brotherhood and Olympic peace. A Russian dignitary stood behind the driver for more than 40 minutes hurling insults. In Russian. An overbearing American began yelling at the Russian bloke to shut up. In American. An Italian photographer would utter only ‘’mama mia!'’ at increasing volume for the full 90 minutes. It was like Lord of the Flies but with journalists instead of children.

I get the sense that Begg-Smith isn’t exactly the most popular guy in Australia either:

The dead bat 25-year-old Begg-Smith used in Torino four years ago to deflect questions about his clandestine internet advertising business is still well-oiled.

The Australian public took a dim view of him then and it remains to be seen how he will be received in Canada. None of the host nation’s media was invited to his press conference.

“I’m just doing what I’m told by these guys,” he said, referring to the Australian Olympic Commission. “I don’t mind it … whatever.”

This description of hockey is excellent:

Then there’s the body checks, particularly up against the boards around the outside of the rink, plus the fights. An unwritten players agreement means players do not raise their sticks of hit from behind. Anything else goes.