Downhill From Denmark (Sports Night)
“‘Tonight on Sports Night we’ll be covering the world championship of Dramatic Skiing,’ what the hell is this Dana?” Casey threw script on the table and ran his hands through his hair. Dana sighed and peered at him over her glasses.
“Dramatic Skiing is a new craze that’s sweeping . . .”
“The frozen North where people can’t go see a play? Not only are they doing a play on skis, they’re doing Hamlet! Shakespeare is rolling over in his grave right now and instead of commenting on the injustice of it, we’re covering it!” Casey slumped in his chair and threw his feet up on the table, narrowly missing knocking his lunch to the ground. Dan poked his head into their office.
“I heard something about the fine sport of Dramatic Skiing. Right up there with soccer I say. All the perks of watching a work of art combined with all the perks of standing outside in the freezing cold watching people perform stunts that could get them killed. A grand marriage,” Dan said. Casey snarled at him who then ducked out of the room.
“Look,” Dana said, “it’s a sports story. We cover sports stories. It’s our job. And you will be covering Dramatic Skiing, even if it does cause Shakespeare to roll in his grave. Thousands of people watch the championship and we need to cover it. If Dan can cover soccer, you can cover this. And try not to be overly negative about it, we’re still getting grief over the Jerry Falwell stuff.” With that Dana left the office, Casey staring after her.
“So I was thinking that we should watch the footage together a few times just so we can truly understand the sport of Dramatic Skiing,” Dan said as he came back in the office. “I mean, I’d never heard of it until Dana came along half an hour ago so I’m having a hard time visualizing the sport. I mean, do they perform the whole play in one go? How do they deal with scene changes and people coming in and out of scenes? There’s really no off-stage on a hill.” Casey turned his stare to Dan. “What? I’m interested in all sports this wide world has to offer,” Dan said as he turned to leave the office. “I heard that the footage is in room three. We need to hurry if we want good seats.” Casey was left in the empty office, staring at no one.
“Doesn’t anyone care that this is a travesty!” he yelled. “Shakespeare is meant to be enjoyed in a warm theater with comfy seats and actors with British accents, not on a snow covered hill with actors who are really skiers!”
“Actually, Shakespeare was originally put on in a theater with no roof so it was rather cold in the winter and many of the people had to stand in the pit, so the comfy seats are out,” Dana said from outside the office. She stuck her head in and continued, “Just come and watch it with us. It’ll be funny and Kim made popcorn.” Casey looked up at Dana and sighed.
“Is it the cheesy popcorn?” he asked as he rose and joined Dana at the door.
----
The Sports Night team sat in silence, which was rather unusual for them, all eyes fixed on the small T.V. in room three. The lights were out and the snowy hill on the screen was a blinding white. Kim had indeed made popcorn, and it was the cheesy kind, but it lay forgotten in the bowl. The announcer of the championship was the only sound in the room.
“And now is the time you have all been waiting for, the master’s final. For those of you just joining us, we’ve finished first round which was the beginners with their lovely presentations of monologues and soliloquies. The winning performance was Claudius’s monologue in Act 3. The creativity that the Norwegians put into their performance was magnificent, as were the jumps preformed by Claudius. Also notable was the imaginative idea of having another member of the team skiing along side Claudius, acting the part of Hamlet spying.
“We’re also done with the intermediate round, first place there being the Swiss for their superb idea of combining a soliloquy and dialogue with their performance of the “To Be or Not to Be” scene and the proceeding dialogue between Hamlet and Ophelia. Their Ophelia also picked up points for her beautiful Telemark landing. Good job Switzerland.
“And with those behind us we now come to the cumulating point of the competition, the battle scene. This year we chose to finish our championship with the ending scene of Hamlet, picked for its difficulty in regards to both acting and skiing. Past year’s endings have included Titus Andronicus and the memorable performance of Waiting for Godot. The actors must show their emotions while hurtling down the hill, dodging other skiers who are trying to kill them and complete their jumps. The ending has Hamlet finally making it to the bottom of the hill only to collapse in a pool of blood, gasping out his final lines. In past years, the audience has been brought to tears. Can this year’s competitors follow in kind? Find out after this break.” The announcer went silent as the theme music picked up. Then all the noise was gone as Jeremy hit the pause button.
“Well, that was certainly interesting. You know I would love to stay and find out if this years ending will move me, but I’m afraid I have to go and . . . do something else. It’s terribly important. I think I need to go and feed starving children in Africa.” Jeremy made it out of the room unscathed, Natalie fast on his heels. Other members of the crew began to file out of the room as well, leaving only Dana, Casey and Dan in the room.
“I can’t believe you want me to cover this,” Casey said. “This is not sports, this is not art, this is something that I cannot even describe.”
“I think it’s pretty funny,” Dan interjected. He got glared at by both Dana and Casey and he started sidling his way towards the door. “I think I’ll leave you two in here to discuss it since you seem to have . . . um . . . lot’s to talk about.” Dan sprinted for the outside. Dana and Casey glared at each other.
“Why do you have such a problem with this anyways?” Dana asked, grabbing some of the forgotten popcorn.
“Because it’s mocking fine art, it’s degrading some of the best work ever written in the English language. Kids who watch this are going to grow up thinking that Shakespeare is about ski jumps and scores, not nuanced language and deep emotions.”
“I think you were exposed to too much theater as a child,” Dana said. “It’s for fun Casey. Sports are fun, sometimes we forget that around here. Let it go. Make Dan report it and you can make faces at camera two and then move on.” She stood up and moved behind Casey’s seat. “Move on,” she repeated softly. Casey turned around in his seat and caught her hand.
“It’s hard to move on when you finally figured out what you want and then realize that you can’t have it,” he replied. They both eyed Dana’s ring that was dull in the soft light of the room. Casey sighed. “I’ll get Dan to cover the story.” He let go of Dana’s hand and sunk down in the chair. Dana ran her fingers through her hair and walked to the doorway.
“Why are the Dramatic Skiing championships held during the fall?” she asked. “Seems that it’s just a set up for failure.”
Casey shrugged. “Maybe they just hope for a miracle. Sometimes they happen.” Dana nodded even though Casey couldn’t see her.
“Sometimes hope is enough to get you through a championship,” she said.
“Dramatic Skiing is a new craze that’s sweeping . . .”
“The frozen North where people can’t go see a play? Not only are they doing a play on skis, they’re doing Hamlet! Shakespeare is rolling over in his grave right now and instead of commenting on the injustice of it, we’re covering it!” Casey slumped in his chair and threw his feet up on the table, narrowly missing knocking his lunch to the ground. Dan poked his head into their office.
“I heard something about the fine sport of Dramatic Skiing. Right up there with soccer I say. All the perks of watching a work of art combined with all the perks of standing outside in the freezing cold watching people perform stunts that could get them killed. A grand marriage,” Dan said. Casey snarled at him who then ducked out of the room.
“Look,” Dana said, “it’s a sports story. We cover sports stories. It’s our job. And you will be covering Dramatic Skiing, even if it does cause Shakespeare to roll in his grave. Thousands of people watch the championship and we need to cover it. If Dan can cover soccer, you can cover this. And try not to be overly negative about it, we’re still getting grief over the Jerry Falwell stuff.” With that Dana left the office, Casey staring after her.
“So I was thinking that we should watch the footage together a few times just so we can truly understand the sport of Dramatic Skiing,” Dan said as he came back in the office. “I mean, I’d never heard of it until Dana came along half an hour ago so I’m having a hard time visualizing the sport. I mean, do they perform the whole play in one go? How do they deal with scene changes and people coming in and out of scenes? There’s really no off-stage on a hill.” Casey turned his stare to Dan. “What? I’m interested in all sports this wide world has to offer,” Dan said as he turned to leave the office. “I heard that the footage is in room three. We need to hurry if we want good seats.” Casey was left in the empty office, staring at no one.
“Doesn’t anyone care that this is a travesty!” he yelled. “Shakespeare is meant to be enjoyed in a warm theater with comfy seats and actors with British accents, not on a snow covered hill with actors who are really skiers!”
“Actually, Shakespeare was originally put on in a theater with no roof so it was rather cold in the winter and many of the people had to stand in the pit, so the comfy seats are out,” Dana said from outside the office. She stuck her head in and continued, “Just come and watch it with us. It’ll be funny and Kim made popcorn.” Casey looked up at Dana and sighed.
“Is it the cheesy popcorn?” he asked as he rose and joined Dana at the door.
----
The Sports Night team sat in silence, which was rather unusual for them, all eyes fixed on the small T.V. in room three. The lights were out and the snowy hill on the screen was a blinding white. Kim had indeed made popcorn, and it was the cheesy kind, but it lay forgotten in the bowl. The announcer of the championship was the only sound in the room.
“And now is the time you have all been waiting for, the master’s final. For those of you just joining us, we’ve finished first round which was the beginners with their lovely presentations of monologues and soliloquies. The winning performance was Claudius’s monologue in Act 3. The creativity that the Norwegians put into their performance was magnificent, as were the jumps preformed by Claudius. Also notable was the imaginative idea of having another member of the team skiing along side Claudius, acting the part of Hamlet spying.
“We’re also done with the intermediate round, first place there being the Swiss for their superb idea of combining a soliloquy and dialogue with their performance of the “To Be or Not to Be” scene and the proceeding dialogue between Hamlet and Ophelia. Their Ophelia also picked up points for her beautiful Telemark landing. Good job Switzerland.
“And with those behind us we now come to the cumulating point of the competition, the battle scene. This year we chose to finish our championship with the ending scene of Hamlet, picked for its difficulty in regards to both acting and skiing. Past year’s endings have included Titus Andronicus and the memorable performance of Waiting for Godot. The actors must show their emotions while hurtling down the hill, dodging other skiers who are trying to kill them and complete their jumps. The ending has Hamlet finally making it to the bottom of the hill only to collapse in a pool of blood, gasping out his final lines. In past years, the audience has been brought to tears. Can this year’s competitors follow in kind? Find out after this break.” The announcer went silent as the theme music picked up. Then all the noise was gone as Jeremy hit the pause button.
“Well, that was certainly interesting. You know I would love to stay and find out if this years ending will move me, but I’m afraid I have to go and . . . do something else. It’s terribly important. I think I need to go and feed starving children in Africa.” Jeremy made it out of the room unscathed, Natalie fast on his heels. Other members of the crew began to file out of the room as well, leaving only Dana, Casey and Dan in the room.
“I can’t believe you want me to cover this,” Casey said. “This is not sports, this is not art, this is something that I cannot even describe.”
“I think it’s pretty funny,” Dan interjected. He got glared at by both Dana and Casey and he started sidling his way towards the door. “I think I’ll leave you two in here to discuss it since you seem to have . . . um . . . lot’s to talk about.” Dan sprinted for the outside. Dana and Casey glared at each other.
“Why do you have such a problem with this anyways?” Dana asked, grabbing some of the forgotten popcorn.
“Because it’s mocking fine art, it’s degrading some of the best work ever written in the English language. Kids who watch this are going to grow up thinking that Shakespeare is about ski jumps and scores, not nuanced language and deep emotions.”
“I think you were exposed to too much theater as a child,” Dana said. “It’s for fun Casey. Sports are fun, sometimes we forget that around here. Let it go. Make Dan report it and you can make faces at camera two and then move on.” She stood up and moved behind Casey’s seat. “Move on,” she repeated softly. Casey turned around in his seat and caught her hand.
“It’s hard to move on when you finally figured out what you want and then realize that you can’t have it,” he replied. They both eyed Dana’s ring that was dull in the soft light of the room. Casey sighed. “I’ll get Dan to cover the story.” He let go of Dana’s hand and sunk down in the chair. Dana ran her fingers through her hair and walked to the doorway.
“Why are the Dramatic Skiing championships held during the fall?” she asked. “Seems that it’s just a set up for failure.”
Casey shrugged. “Maybe they just hope for a miracle. Sometimes they happen.” Dana nodded even though Casey couldn’t see her.
“Sometimes hope is enough to get you through a championship,” she said.