So I've got Olympic fever in a big way, along with the rest of the world. And while I'm happy to be sucked into the easily accesible Olympic world of interviews, statistics, re-caps and pseudo-comic news bits on the "fun" side of Beijing, I'm also hugely curious about the stuff you don't get to see. I want to see photos of the rooms the atheletes stay in at the Olympic village, what restaurants are they all eating at and most importantly, I absolutely want to know about the 24/7 sweet, sweet lovin' that goes on between all the athletes. I'm not making that up. It's a fact that any past or present Olympic athelete will say when asked by the right person at the right time. And why not? Get all those elite, sweaty, rippling-muscled atheletes in one building during the most tense time of their lives and you're bound to get some galactic action happening when all's said and done.
Worlds of thanks to
Lainey for finally giving us access to this most important Olympic info! She posted a link to an
article in the U.K Times written by Matthew Syed, a repeat Olympic athlete now working as a commentator (who claims to have had more sex while at the Olympics than he had up until that point in his life). Now you're talking!! First hand reports of the sex-fest that is the Athletes Village. Here are some of my favourite parts:
"Barcelona was, for many of us Olympic virgins, as much about sex as it was about sport. There were the gorgeous hostesses - there to assist the athletes - in their bright yellow shirts and black skirts; there were the indigenous lovelies who came to watch the competitions. And then there were the female athletes - literally thousands of them - strutting, shimmying, sashaying and jogging around the village, clad in Lycra and exposing yard upon yard of shiny, toned, rippling and unimaginably exotic flesh. Women from all the countries of the world: muscular, virile, athletic and oozing oestrogen. I spent so much time in a state of lust that I could have passed out. Indeed, for all I knew I did pass out - in a place like that how was one to tell the difference between dreamland and reality? "
"It was not just the guys. The women, too, seemed in thrall to their hormones, throwing around daring glances and dynamite smiles like confetti. No meal or coffee break was complete without a breathless conversation with a lithe long jumper from Cuba or an Amazonian badminton player from Sweden, the mutual longing so evident it was almost comical. It was an effort of will to keep everything in check until competition had finished. But, once we were eliminated from our respective competitions, we lunged at each other like suicidal fencers. There may have been a fair amount of gay sex going on, too - but given the notorious homophobia in sport it was rather more covert."
"I spoke to an Aussie table tennis player this week to check out the village vibe and he launched into the breathless patter common to any Olympic debutant: “It is unbelievable in there; everyone is totally crazy once they are out of their competitions. God knows what it is going to be like this weekend. It is like a world within a world.” A British runner (anonymous again: athletes are not supposed to talk to journalists unaccompanied by a PR type, least of all about sex) said: “The swimmers finished earlier in the week and it was like there was an eruption.”
"But let us get back to all the sex going down in the village. One possible explanation centres on the fact that Olympic athletes have to display an unnatural (and, it has to be said, wholly unhealthy) level of self-discipline in the build-up to big competitions. How else is this going to manifest itself than with a volcanic release of pent-up hedonism? It is a common sight to see recently knocked-out athletes gorging on Magnums and McDonald's, swilling alcohol and, of course, shagging like crazy. Sometimes all three at the same time."
A little poking around the world-wide web found
these stats from Men's Health. At the Olympics in Athens, Durex happily provided the info on their donation consisting of 130,000 condoms and 30,000 tubes of lubricant. In Sydney, each athlete was doled out 51 condoms each. As it turns out, that was not enough. Especially for the Cuban atheletes, who ran out well before any of the others. And of course condoms were emblazoned with the Olympic rings logo as well as being offered in three colours. You guessed it. Gold, silver and bronze.
Sad news for any woman cursed with an Olympic gold medal though. Apparently they are not as desired as the women who got knocked out early in the competition. I guess the men feel threatened by their success and see their drive to succeed to be intimidating. I guess they feel the need to console the poor beach volleyball player who finished 43rd. I bet the comforting line "Ohhh you poor thing, all that sand in your tiny swimsuit must make it hard to focus I bet huh?" gets used a fair bit.
This is my kind of Olympic coverage -- more smut please!
