Hippo and Other Hippo are saving their pithiness FOAR Monday’s Owl in review.  Fortunately, 2pack chipped in with the following, epic Olympics post.  Without further ado…

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Ciao Tutti. As a filler contribution to the Clubhouse while we await the Owl and dark times without No Fun League games for seven months, allow me to pontificate. I have a bit of history with both Cortina and the Italian ladies ski team (just a wee bit) that I’d like to pass along. I think I posted a brief version of my first Cortina trip, I’ll elaborate (and repeat some) here. So, if you are already bored… you have come to the right place for enhancement.

My first trip to Cortina was a spontaneous affair. In December 1978 I was spending my first Christmas away from home, stationed overseas in Italy. I was determined not to spend it in the barracks. I didn’t have enough leave time (or money) saved up to go home. The former was due to extensive travel already exploring Italy and Europe, and the latter was due to the carousing that unsupervised 19-year-olds tend to gravitate to.

While the NCO’s in my platoon asked what my plans were and offered to host me at their home (as is standard for leaders in that situation), I thanked them but said I was looking for a travel locale. One recommends Cortina. And after his brief explanation of what that town had to offer, I was set. Cortina here I come. 

So, I go downtown and buy a Colmar ski parka. Pack a weekend bag and head to the train station. When I got to the counter, I asked for a ticket to Cortina. The guy looked at me like the dumbass I was. With my, at the time, very limited Italian I figured out that Cortina, being on top of a very high mountain range, was not fully accessible by rail. He could get me to the base of the mountains via a couple of trains, to Pieve di Cadore, but from there I’d need to hop on a bus up to Cortina.

That’s great intell… thank you Sir… and I was off! The train ride went well and in Italy most bus stations are collocated with the train stations so that way Stevie Wonder could find the place easy. Here the first of my dumb blundering lucky breaks occurred. I got there just before the ticket window closed, and “just” before the last bus to Tombstone… I mean Cortina. The dude sold me the ticket, shuttered the place and went to his cozy home. Me… I have spent few other more dismal waits than that night. It was Saturday night, the 23rd of December. I was alone in that frigid waiting room for over an hour, and the blues sort of hit me. But I bounced back once on the bus.

When the bus stopped in Cortina, I looked around for a place to stay. The first place, no luck for the John Rambo just rolled into town deadbeat. Undeterred, I tried the second place, and was in luck, I had the room until Tuesday the day after Christmas which is when I would run out of money and had to head back to post anyways. You know… the Lord kinda looks after idiots. As I think back on that, today, if I wanted a hotel reservation… in Cortina… at Christmas… I’d be lucky to get one now in February. But young 2Pack just waltzed in and snagged a room off the street… smh… 

I learned to ski there. Well, I fell on my butt around there, on rentals. Leave it to me to learn to ski, not on a bunny hill, but in friggen Cortina. Well played! Also met a girl at a local disco. Her name was Illianna and she really took care of me. I was able to stretch my drinking budget with the flirty freebees she fed me. We corresponded for a while until we both moved on. Here is what she sorta looked like…

I’ve been back a few times since then, but as is the norm, nothing ever quite matches the first time.

Now let’s get professional. Ladies and gentlemen, my pro take on the Valanga Azzurra (Blue Avalanche) 2026 Italian Women’s Ski Team.

Federica Brignone is the top prospect.

Laura Pirovano is a young dark horse.

OK enough of that. 

I, literally, ran… RAN into the Italians ladies team training a few years back. Just west of the Anterselva venue is the town of Brunico. We have a training partnership with the Italian Army Alpini Regiment stationed there. I was coordinating some training with them, staying in town at a hotel. On my early morning run I was droning along as usual. I run around 0500 so there are not many folks out then.

This attractive, fit young lady comes running towards me. Checking my posture and picking up the pace I smile wave and do the “Boungiorno” bit like I usually do. Slacking back down… a minute later here comes another one! And another! I must have encountered a dozen very attractive fit young ladies before I was finally able to let go and get back into my usual slogging posture. Fuck that Charles Atlas shit. Come to find out from the Alpini’s when I mentioned it, the Valanga Azzurra train up there. That’s good hustle ladies!

Remember the 1988 Calgary Winter games? Albert Tomba was one of the standouts there, winning Gold in the Slalom and Giant Slalom. He cracked me up. The television coverage did a piece on Austrian Hubert Strolz who was predicted to win big. It was all… he’s fully focused… becomes one with the mountain… channels his inner soul towards fulfillment of his destiny… bullshit. Waaayyy too serious for this kid. Cut to Tomba… out at night… till all hours… on the town… with the chicks. Johnny Bravo kick ass! And he goes on to win two golds, likely severely hungover.  He was also a Carabinieri, got in trouble once for putting his blue light on his Porsche to get up to the ski resort while typically late for the gig. Much respect. 

The other stand out was Katerina Witt. She won her second Gold there after winning in Sarajevo in 1984. Gotta admit, back then during the cold war I did have a thing for communist chicks.

Tomba would repeat at Albertville in 1992 with a Gold and Silver. People…. Al would be right at home in the Clubhouse. 

Remember when that dude lit the Olympic cauldron with a flaming arrow in Barcelona’s 1992 summer games? How cool would it be, and what a nod to past winter games greats, if Tomba lit the cauldron with a sparkler sling shot from one of Katerina’s G strings? Winter games organizers… lets think outside of (or just of) the box guys.

Ciao Tutti! Be well!