JEFF PEARLMAN

JEFF PEARLMAN

Gold medals anyone?

Having just watched the men’s BMX championship, I am officially convinced that everyone—You. Me. Kim Fields. Von Hayes—can be an Olmypian. In other words, if something as stupid as BMX racing can find its way onto the official Olympic schedule, certainly we all can push for our own areas of expertise.

For example, if I hope to win an Olympic medal anytime soon, I need the following five sports to be approved by the IOC:

1. Stack-of-quarters-off-the-elbow flipping: I learned this from an early episode of Happy Days (Potsie Webber is the Bela Karolyi of the sport), and now officially kick ass. Have done as many as 20 quarters off the right elbow. In Russia, they’re not even up to 15.

2. Blind Melon song memorization: I’ve now sung Melon’s “Change” to my son Emmett, oh, 145,432 times. Even Shannon Hoon failed to reach such heights.

3. Finger smelling: I smell my fingers at all times. After I eat lasagna, after I bowl at Brewster Lanes, after I massage an especially dispiriting Hemorrhoid. Like Usain Bolt out of the blocks, I’ve got the quickest index finger draw in the world.

4. Zit picking: I once knew a girl in college who enjoyed popping the zits of other people. Gross? Perhaps. But she was also a legendary figure in the fledgling sport of zit picking. Thanks to boasting the oily skin of a 13-year-old, I am never short for practice.

5. Laundry: I’ve got a wife and two kids, and I do the laundry all … the … friggin’ … time. I let the basket fill to the brim, just so I can time how long it takes me to carry it to the basement, throw it into the machine, pour in the detergent and switch ON. Janet Hawkins, a housewife in Urbana, Ill., has the single-load record. But I suspect she’s been injecting Tide.