Posted on 02/09/2002 9:45:03 AM PST by callisto
If leaping through the TV would have shut that Katy up, allowing us to hear the real announcers and the music, and have a thought for ourselves, there would have been a new olympic event to enter - Diving Through the Television Set.
No marketing expert am I, but it occurs to me that maybe we pay for this: And those fools at NBC paid $65 million for that "ugly little mouth" on Couric, through increased counter prices due to increased advertising prices.
Precisely. ..presumptuous entitlement combined with a lack of respect as she pushed the phone into the face of the President of the United States... LOL
Sasha's from Laguna in Orange County, CA. You're thinking of Sarah "The Thug" Hughes.
From Sasha's hometown paper, the OC Register-
February 10, 2002
By JEFF MILLER
The Orange County Register
SALT LAKE CITY -- No ice surface had been scratched. No snow had been skied. No puck had been dropped.
And already the Olympics had puffed out its rings and produced a moment, caught by NBC's cameras and witnessed by the world.
An enormous moment, to be certain, one that began as small as a phone call.
So, there was the President of the United States talking to a native Russian he had never met during the most significantly symbolic Olympic opening ceremony in the history of America.
"How often does something like this happen in your life?" Galina Cohen says. "Never."
She was a part of the moment because it was so large, too big for just Galina's little girl, Sasha, all 5-foot-1 of her figure-skating frame. So the daughter did what you're supposed to do when a weight is too heavy - you ask for help holding it.
You saw George W. Bush on that cell phone, right? You did if you were among the quarter of this country watching Friday's opening ceremony.
Sasha, a medal hopeful from Laguna Niguel, sitting next to the President, called her mother at one point, then asked Bush to say hello, handing him the phone.
"Galina," he said, "how are you? This is your President. I want you to know not to worry. Your daughter is behaving very well."
Says Galina now, "I thought that was really cute."
Really cute? The leader of the free world? At a time when he's only trying to rid the planet of evil?
This story began with another cell phone call. Then another. And another. Sasha, marching with the rest of the U.S. team, called her mom with updates throughout the ceremony.
Galina was in a nearby hotel lobby with her husband, Roger, and Sasha's coach, John Nicks, watching on TV.
"Mom, guess what?" one of the calls began. "The President is going to sit next to me."
The American athletes, upon reaching the stands, had been told Bush would take seat No. 21. Sasha looked down and noticed she was in seat No. 21. She scooted over slightly.
Still Galina didn't exactly believe her excitable 17-year-old daughter, a girl who, among her favorite hobbies, first lists shopping.
"Sasha believes a lot of things people tell her, and she can imagine some things," Galina says. "I just told her, 'OK, OK, call me when he does.'"
He did.
Then she did.
Suddenly, something small swelled. This wasn't just hello. Bush asked Galina where the family lives, how they were enjoying the ceremony and when Sasha would be skating. Then he told her he would be cheering for her daughter.
This was the most untouchable man in America, a man surrounded by more than $300 million in security, with snipers on the rooftops and Secret Service on the mountainsides, reaching out and touching a stranger.
Their conversation lasted about a minute and a half.
"That's not that long, but it's still pretty incredible," says Galina, who was born in what is now the Ukraine and moved to this country in 1974. "He doesn't know me. He didn't have to chat with me. It's great to see that our President can be so nice to just an average person."
Later, Bush asked Sasha for an E-mail address so that he could send a picture someone took of the two of them together.
She then asked him if he was going to stay for any of the events.
"No, young lady," Bush told her. "I have to go home. We have a war to fight."
None of this would have happened had the Cohens been at the ceremony. But Roger has a bad back, so sitting in the cold for three hours wasn't an option.
"I'm glad we didn't go," Galina says. "If we were sitting there, with all those people making all that noise, I never would have heard the phone ring. I would have had a voice mail from the President."
What soon followed were more calls, friends who had seen the moment on TV phoning the Cohens from all over the country. Before long, Galina, Roger and Nicks all had to turn off their phones. When the Cohens returned to their hotel room, they disconnected the line there, too, so they could get some sleep.
Saturday morning, the family gathered at the Salt Lake City airport to return to Orange County. They will come back to Utah just before the women's figure skating competition begins.
On the flight home, there was very little talking. Sasha keeps a diary, and she was too busy catching up. She scribbled 15 pages worth of memories.
"It was really, really nice that she let me and her father be a part of all that," Galina says. "That is something that will stay with us the rest of our lives. It was like we were out there marching with her."
Before Friday night ended, as the athletes were leaving Rice-Eccles Stadium, Sasha called her mother one more time.
This conversation was much shorter.
"Wasn't that so cool?" the daughter asked.
"Amazing, honey," Galina said. "I love you."
An exchange so brief.
A moment so lasting.
Great story, Brian. What a breath of fresh air this president is. Cheers, By.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.