They call soccer the "beautiful game," but an argument could be made that beach volleyball is the most beautiful game. Wives might object to their husbands sitting in front of the TV and watching tall bikini-clad women jumping and diving in the sand if it weren't for the fact that volleyball is a legitimate Olympic sport.
But there's a storm on the horizon (or, simply put, English weather), and it could cause volleyball players to bundle up in the equivalent of long underwear instead of bathing suits. The forecast calls for highs in the 60s early next week, with up to a 30 percent chance of rain. When you factor in night matches, that's not exactly bikini weather. Some beach volleyball players are ready to take precaution.
What's the old saying? If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it does it make a sound? Well if women's beach volleyball has to wear long johns because it's too cold did it even take place? I guess I'm not sure why this is a shock to anyone because it's always rainy and 60's in London according to a buddy of mine who spent a semester across the pond*. But with that said I think a serious question has to be asked; how did London get the Summer Olympics in the first place? Like is it ever really summer there? When you think summer you think hot weather and sunshine, not clouds and rain. I mean I suppose if we had an event every 4 years that celebrated gloom, dry wit and poor dental hygiene then London is the logical choice. But for the summer Olympics you think of places like Rome, or Los Angeles, or Atlanta. Like can't we find a way to control the weather during competition Hunger Games-style? I mean is that so much to ask England? You know what, maybe we should get some American scientists on it. We'll come riding in on our white horse again just like it was 1941. Except instead of helping end the terror reign of one of the most evil men on the planet we'll be saving beach volleyball's sex appeal. Semantics.
*Protip if you ever travel overseas. Upon your arrival back home you get EXACTLY 5 sentences that start with 'Well in London we called it..' or 'That's not how it works in Spain....' Use those 5 wisely or abandon all of your friends in the process. Once you land back in the U S of A you can't call apartments 'flats' or cookies 'biscuits.' It's not the biscuit monster it's the cookie monster. Why? Because we're American and you're in America; greatest country on the planet. The gospel according to Ricky Bobby.
PS: Can you tell I actually read a book this year; 4354354 Hunger Games references and counting.