Detroit Free Press Jeff Seidel column

Feb. 23--SOCHI, Russia -- I was standing in the rain, and my underwear was soaked, and water was dripping down my face.

Wait. I know that sounds really weird, if not a little creepy, but it will make sense in a second.

About eight hours after Meryl Davis and Charlie White won the gold medal in ice dancing, becoming the first Americans to win the event in a Winter Olympics, they appeared on the "Today" show. It was a miserable day. Cold. Wet. And the rain wouldn't stop.

For almost two hours, I stood outside the small, cramped NBC studio, getting drenched, waiting for an interview. I made fast friends with a Russian security guard, who told me that I couldn't step over a yellow line and get any closer to Matt Lauer, much less anyone else at NBC, or else, I don't know, maybe I would get pinkeye.

The big, thick security officer, who was clearly a world-class competitor in that old security guard Olympic event -- holding a blank stare -- stood firm and wouldn't smile.

I got a little loopy -- hey, when you haven't really slept for a few days and your underwear gets soaked from the rain and your fingers turn into raisins, things get a little weird -- and I taught him how to give a man hug.

Complete with a back slap.

"What up?" we both said, practicing in the rain.

Shake, shake, hug, back slap.

Just call it a little international relations.

At one point in my childhood, I had a deep, engrained fear of the Soviet Union. I was afraid the Soviets were going to shoot a bunch of nuclear missiles into the air and, of course, they were all pointed directly at my corner of Michigan, and that is how the world was going to end. Why? I don't know. Maybe, it was how the media always had the same muted message: THE RUSSIANS ARE GOING TO ATTACK! DUCK AND COVER!

And now, I was sharing man hugs with a Russian.

Did I mention I love the Olympics?

Anyhow, when they found out that I was outside, Paul Davis (Meryl's dad) and Jacqui White (Charlie's mom), graciously came outside to do an interview. They stood in the entrance of a nearby building, taking shelter from the rain and talking about the night their kids won a gold medal. Paul Davis, from West Bloomfield, couldn't stop smiling, and Jacqui White, from Bloomfield Hills, had a perma-grin. More than anything, they looked relieved.

Anyhow, that's how I will remember these Olympics.

Giving man hugs to a Russian security guard.

And the perma-grins shared by Paul Davis and Jacqui White.

This Olympics had a little bit of everything: from incredible highs to incredible lows and that's just talking about the food.

One night, at the halfpipe, I was starved and the concession stand was almost out of food, so I ate the only thing left, a pile of pseudo-french fries in a container, and it was lathered in cheese and ranch dressing with a thick greasy sausage on top.

I'd like a heart attack to go, please! Or to "take away," as they say here.

But covering the Olympics has been incredible.

It feels like you are watching history unfold.

Wonderful moments

There have been so many amazing moments.

The night Jeremy Abbott from the Detroit Skating Club in Bloomfield Hills went splat across the ice and crashed into the wall and got back up and completed his skate, as the Russian crowd cheered for him.

Not to mention the next night, when Abbott went off and ripped his critics, dropping some colorful, naughty language. And I loved it. I wish all these figure skaters would be honest and speak from the heart, instead of being robotic clones.

I'll never forget Mo Shorr, the mother of Karly Shorr, who competed in snowboarding's slopestyle. Mo Shorr, an elementary teacher from Milford, sat in the front row, watching her daughter compete. Sure, Mo was staying in a horrible, overpriced, dump of a hotel -- her words -- but this moment made it all worth it. She looked as if she was dying inside, watching her daughter compete, hoping for the best.

Then, there was Danny Davis from Highland, who competed in snowboarding's halfpipe. Ah, Danny. He's the cool guy you want to invite to your New Year's Eve party. Just keep him away from your ATV. He's the guy everybody likes to hang out with because he is so much fun and refreshing. Man, I wish he played for the Tigers.

Which brings me to Lauryn Williams, the daughter of a retired Detroit middle school teacher. She is sweeter than cotton candy.

Williams, 30, already had won an Olympic gold medal in track and field, and she was hoping to win a gold in bobsledding, becoming only the second athlete in history to win one in the Summer Games and one in the Winter Games. And she came oh-so close, missing by one-tenth of second after four runs that totaled more than three miles. But she wound up with silver, which is still pretty amazing.

"I feel like I'm watching Jesse Owens," said Lolo Jones, her teammate and another international track star.

A few minutes later, Williams was standing in front of several reporters.

You know what she wanted more than anything? Pizza.

Amen, sister.

The Russian food has been fun -- in that, I'm going over to Grandma's house for a big chunk of meat and some potatoes after church kind of way -- but at some point, you need some pizza.

For your soul.

Heading to the Games

I have to admit that I felt trepidation when I stepped on Russian soil.

I was afraid that I was heading into a war zone. The politics surrounding this Olympics felt like a thick heavy blanket that covered everything, and there were reports of suicide bombers on the loose in Sochi.

Right before arriving, I learned that in the event of a catastrophe, my insurance would cover the cost of shipping back any remains to the States.

That just makes you feel all warm and fuzzy before heading to an assignment.

I've seen a lot of crazy stuff in my journalism career. I've seen way too many dead bodies and, at some point, I was prepared to cover a terrorist attack. But it didn't happen (knock on wood).

Thankfully.

Go ahead and knock on some more wood. Even if it's prefabricated and about to fall apart, like your average half-built Russian media hotel.

For the most part, the Putin Games came off without a hitch. The venues were beautiful. Most reports about the Olympic Village were positive -- unless you count that hoax that a wolf was on the loose in one of the buildings. And everything was great. If you don't count several U.S. failures, in several sports.

There were just enough controversies to keep everything interesting. The Under Armor speedskating suits. The figure skating judging. That Russian goal that was taken away in hockey. And the most famous case of pinkeye in history, thanks to NBC'sBob Costas.

But thankfully, these Games felt safe, thanks to an overwhelming security presence.

At times, this area of Russia didn't feel any different from Michigan. The area where the media was staying felt like a small tourist town by one of the Great Lakes. Adler, where many of the events were held in the so-called Coastal Cluster, looked like a big Grand Rapids. And the mountains, where they held the X Games so that the U.S. could pump up its medal count, felt like going up to Gaylord or Boyne. If there were a full-service Marriott in Gaylord.

And the weather was amazing. These were the Sweatshirt Games.

Before arriving I fully expected to get sick. I brought along a boatload of antibiotics and cold medicine, but you know the only thing I ending up taking? Allergy pills. Because it was springtime in Sochi and the grass was wonderfully green.

Behind the scenes

Now, back to that day in the rain.

Which was the highlight of the Olympics for me.

Because it felt so real. Especially at a small private ceremony at USA House.

Meryl Davis and Charlie White do not show their true personalities during news conferences. They consider it their job. They go on robot mode and answer the same questions, the same way.

They aren't rude. They are just polished.

Because the questions are so repetitive: What's it like to train together for 17 years? What's it like to train (at Canton's Arctic Edge) with your main competitors? Are you guys, you know, a couple?

Amazingly, they never roll their eyes or sigh.

They just plow ahead and answer on robot mode.

And that's why it was so cool to see them in a private setting. White, 26, was hilarious, cracking jokes, and Davis, 27, broke down with emotion.

Chills and thrills

A few hours later, I went to the award ceremony to watch Davis and White get their gold medals.

But I screwed up. I went way too early. I didn't realize there were eight medal ceremonies in a row, back-to-back-to-back-to-back, well, you get the point. A whole bunch.

And Davis and White were No. 5 in line.

Now, maybe it was because I was tired. And maybe, because it was raining again. And maybe, it's because I hadn't really slept in several days and my body was all messed up because of the nine-hour time difference. And maybe, it's because my underwear was soaked again.

But that medal ceremony was one of the most emotional things I've seen in sports.

I stood there, watching athletes from other nations get their medals, and it was so cool to see the pure joy and exhilaration creep across their faces. The rain was coming down, and you could hear the hiss of the Olympic cauldron in the distance, and music was playing, and everybody was cheering. The stories behind these athletes are incredible, and I thought about how many hours went into this moment -- all the training and competitions, all the sacrifice and pain, all the dedication and drive -- and I got chills every time.

Contact Jeff Seidel: [email protected]. Follow him on Twitter @seideljeff.

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