Write about: the launch.
While I was catching up on comments this morning I had the women's hockey gold medal game on in the background. With the Americans up 2-0 with five minutes left in the third period I almost turned it off, but I decided I'd give the Canadians a little more time.
Three and a half minutes left, 2-1.
Less than a minute to go, goalie pulled for an extra skater, 2-2.
About eight minutes into the sudden death overtime, 3-2. Gold medal for Team Canada.
There's no way tomorrow's hockey semifinal between the men's teams is going to top that. Right?
"What's 'er name goin' ter be then, Cap'n?"
"I... be still mullin' over me options."
"Yer jokin'! The christenin' is gettin' done at noon, right?"
"That be less than an hour from now! Yer namin' yer ship, not yer fifth born child! Ye don't leave this sort of thing to the last minute!"
"Don't ye think I know that, ye pox faced donkey?"
"Well then, what be the problem?"
"It be... ye won't believe me."
"Tell me it has nothin' to do with yer mother, rest 'er evil soul. Tell me it be no dyin' wish nonsense. Please, Cap'n."
"Leave me be."
"Oh ye flea ridden fool. It be those blasted flowers she loved so dearly. Oh, Cap'n, ye can't!"
"Git out of me sight! Be gone, and never show yer face to mine again!"
"But Cap'n, I be your First Mate since we were wee lads! Why would ye-"
"I'll not have yer insubordination a moment longer! Yer not welcome aboard me new ship, whatever I happen to call 'er. Be gone, I said!"
"Fine... fine, Sandy. Just... please, no matter what that old sea hag wanted, promise me you won't call her The Pink Daffodil..."