Pyrotechnics were at the top of the list.
Our conversation turns to marketing and one of our esteemed colleagues didn't quite dig the Ride The Sharknado vibe. No problemo - not a big deal. I don't mind other's input and suggestions, even when they're wrong.
So this week, we're over in Sochi getting our Pussy Riot on, building bridges, and working on cyclocross being included in the 2018 Olympics in Boise.
I ask the bartender if he's heard of a Moscow Mule (oh, ha ha ha) and drop a few bad American catch phrases - i.e., "I know right?" Making friends. I rip the ol' shirt off, trying to fit in, an I turn around, face to face with: Big Bad Vlad, Vlad the Impaler (in a totally hetero way), Rootin' Tootin' Putin.
We start pounding back the distilled potato spirits, mano y mano, and really hit it off. He asks me how I'm enjoying the games, and I told him one thing is missing - cyclocross.
"What is this?", he asks. I get his minister of interwebs over to our table, and have him fire up Ride the Sharknado, said current blog. Checks it out, peristroika, das vidanya. Another fan.
Next day in the Russian paper? Vlady-D RIDING A BEAR SHARK. Think a Sharknado is bad - try a BEAR SHARK.
So, suck it JR! Apology accepted, you're welcome.
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