Olympics may fizzle
The Ukraine may sizzle
But we’ll always have The Twizzle
–Anabolic Tallstory, Leave It All On The Ice
If, like me, you’re a true fan of the spirit of sport, you’re likely saying to yourself, hey, are the Olympics on yet?
Spoiler alert: Too late! (Spoiler alert: This paragraph may have started with a spoiler.)
What in the wide, wide world of sports is agoing on? Don’t worry. It’s my duty to get you caught up. I know that the Olympics are so last week, but I still got something to say. And you (mostly) don’t have to worry about pink eye, either!
I’ll provide a warning cry if Matt Lauer tries to replace me so you’ll have time to grab a pair of ice skates and twizzle your wrists.
So fix yourself a White and/or Black Russian on the rocks, preferably using ice that has been out in the sun too long, just to increase the danger, unfairness and fun.
Remember, the Olympics are about a lot more than CBS and Twitter in a race to see who can get the most spoilers out first. Much, much more.
Just in case you haven’t picked up on yet, the word of the day, week, month, year, decade, century and millennium is twizzle. It’s a word I picked up even as I expended great effort to embargo the Olympics from start to finish. Yet somehow it flew through the ether and embedded itself in my brain just like that earwig did in that scary black-and-white movie a long time ago.
People are turning their heads to get in on the twizzle. Ha, ha. Get it? That’s funny. Enough of that! Twizzle is serious. Twizzle is a dish best served cold. And it’s very cold … on ice.
Twizzle. Say it with me. Twizzle. It rolls right off the tongue. True story: simply uttering the word causes the human tongue to emulate the act for which it is so aptly named. Twizzle. George Costanza could likely make use of this as “move,” but we will not discuss that here.
What, pray tell, is a twizzle? The clinical definition is ADHD of the ankles and feet while on ice. Normally in cases like this a qualified podiatrist will prescribe medications like Adderall and Ritalin. In extreme cases, though, crushing the medications into a fine powder and sniffing them off a harsh cold surface, like the edge of a skate, is indicated.
These lucky few sniffers go on to become the ice dancers of tomorrow where their ADHA affliction of the ankles and feet earns them acclaim and societal status as practitioners of the Twizzle.
The first documented case of public twizzling is generally attributed to skater David Grant in 1991. Today, little is known about Grant as he is apparently too insignificant to have his own Wikipedia page. My exhaustive research can’t even determine if he’s still alive. For all we know, by now, he’s buried in his own tomb.
In spite of all the excitement and glory, a twizzle is basically one of the things that skaters do to earn points during competition. Technically it’s a “figure skating element” that falls within the class of moves known as “step sequences.” Siblings of the twizzle include: three turns, bracket turns, Mohawks, rockers and, of course, counters. Personally I would have been thrilled to see a lot more Mohawks at the Olympics.
Stripped down of its mystique, a twizzle is merely “traveling multi-rotation turns on one foot.” That’s damn exciting stuff.
This year, in a surprise move, all the ice skating announcers at the Olympics, including that one hyper-mouthed lad who used to be an ice skater himself, met secretly and conspired to attack America by overusing the word. It was a cold, calculating plan, and they would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for those meddling tweeters.
Now that the Olympics are over we can rest easy, safe for at least another four years. In the meantime, I vow to do my part in making the word a part of our everyday lexicon no matter what. Let’s keep it alive in our national conversation.
Swish! Swish! Twizzle! Kerplunk!