HOW ABOUT A MEDAL FOR THE FANS?

Byline: STEVE DILBECK

CESANA PARIOL, Italy - As observed long ago, the big trouble with the Winter Games is, they're played in the winter.

Now this isn't such a big deal if you're a figure skater or curler, or like to slap the puck around. All the fans sit in cozy, heated arenas not having to worry about slapping mittens together when they applaud.

But if you come to cheer an outdoor winter sport, that's something else. And if you actually stayed to watch Sunday's bobsled event, and survived, then you are an entirely different breed.

One currently defrosting.

They ran the bobsled final in a full-fledged snowstorm. A thick snowfall that left you covered in white in mere minutes. It was a night Santa Claus wouldn't go out in.

Hey, this snow thing was real charming the first couple of days, but the winter wonderland routine was getting really old by Sunday.

Most events were logically postponed. No moguls qualifying, no super-G. Screaming down an iced track at 80 miles per hour, however, was deemed perfectly OK.

As the temperatures started heading south of 20 degrees and the snow grew heavier, most of the 5,255 in attendance headed for a warm fire and a fine Chianti.

The few, the brave, the fanatic, remained behind and tried not to freeze their sederes off.

All to watch a colored blur of a bobsled go screaming by for a whole two seconds. Or at least what they could watch through the powered night.

Those with seats at the finish line did not sit, no doubt for fear they would end up like the kid who sticks his tongue on the frozen pole.

They were completely covered in snow. It looked like the invasion of the snowmen. You wanted to give them a carrot for a nose.

They stood bundled, hands in pockets, faces hidden by scarves and hoods. Not just dusted with snow, almost buried by it.

They looked like snow-covered mannequins posing as fans, like some Hollywood prop for a crowd scene. Only they moved a little.

These people were tough, or something. Some considered leaving, had some more vino and stayed, or just couldn't fathom leaving at all.

``No way, we're Canadians,'' said Peter Norris of Calgary. ``We're hardy. This is nothing. We want to support our great Canadian team. You can't let a little weather get in the way.''

Or apparently a whole lot of it.

Gabriele Leo, from the south of Italy but now living in Turin, said he considered leaving after the first of the two bobsled runs.

``I was thinking of going back,'' Leo said. ``But we went to a snack point down there at the half and got some repair, and it was OK. We could go on with more wine.''

Understand, these people were seriously cold. They were wet. They couldn't see a whole lot under the best of conditions, and this wasn't the best.

Kim Voss, of Union, Ky., came to visit her daughter, Ashley, currently in Turin during a semester abroad. During a chance meeting at the airport with a team trainer, she found herself with bobsled tickets.

And even as the visibility became increasingly bad, she had no intention of joining the retreating herd.

``It's the Olympics,'' Voss said. ``How often do you get to go to the Olympics.''

How often do you get to feel like a human popsicle?

Berlin's Conny Lesoch didn't have a seat but was one of those who got to climb up the mountain, through the storm, to stand alongside the track. She did get to cheer a German team to gold, but it's not like she's some kind of traditional Deutschland bobsled fan.

``No, I only like the Olympics and always wanted to go the Olympics once,'' she said. ``And I'm wearing five layers of clothing.''

Kristin Siugzinski, from Washington D.C. but currently working in the U.S. embassy in Bulgaria, said she never considered leaving once the snow turned into a white blanket over the Cesana Pariol.

``No way, you can't bail,'' she said. ``You're only here once.

``It's worth it. Besides I'm originally from Buffalo, so I'm used to it.''

Nothing like getting used to losing all the feeling in your toes.

If the fans suffered, it wasn't exactly ideal conditions for the sliders, either.

``The visibility was impossible,'' said U.S. driver Steven Holcomb. ``But I can't see anything anyway. I have bad eyes.''

Said German driver Andre Lange: ``There was really heavy snow in the fourth heat. The crew did a good job of clearing the track, but it wasn't 100 percent. It was difficult because I had to drive around snow heaps in some places.''

And Lange took the gold, along with partner Kevin Kuske, in a chilling victory.

Still, the resilient remained, hidden beneath inches of snow, fortified or not, a bobsled fan or not. A community bonded by suffering.

``I look like a snow man, me and my friends,'' Leo said. ``It was very interesting to see people come from all over the world. I'm meeting a lot of people here. People are really happy to be here.''

They made the best of it. Turned it into a celebration of Olympics and some bobsled, and survival.

CAPTION(S):

photo

Photo:

Germany 1 pilot Andre Lange and brakeman Kevin Kuske celebrate after crossing the finish line in the two-man bobsled.

Michael Sohn/Associated Press