Who knew Bill Johnson now lives in a trailer park in the shadow of Mt. Hood? I'm not really sure why I like this story. The tone is odd. It may be the simple fact that the writer didn't trash a childhood hero of mine. I was only nine years old when Johnson won gold, but I was already gaga for skiing. Come to think of it, the winter of '83-'84 was sort of a magical season of televised sports viewing, sitting on that beige and blue couch next to my older brother. Johnson's downhill victory came just three months after Flutie's Miracle in Miami.
AuthorDavid Wolman