“Has Anyone Seen My Ski ... Or My Pancreas?”

Crikey. Even Sonny Bono is somewhere going, “Man, that was a rough crash right there …”

Scott McCartney might be having the worst week ever. I’m not sure what language this is in … maybe Austrian? Is Austrian a language? Anyway, you have to enjoy the cutaway shots to the next skiier waiting his turn, coolly sipping his water, trying not to let it affect him. He’s either thinking, “Can we drag this dude off, or … how does this work?” or “Dear sweet ever-lovin’ fancy Moses, I gotta go NEXT?!”

And not only does the poor bastard have to lay there, quivering or crying—or both—for what seems like half an hour, but then like 15 seconds later, his own helmet bounces off of him. Talk about adding insult to injury.

This crash is certain to ingrain itself into the popular skiing lexicon, because I can speak for myself when I say that the next time I go skiing, I’m going to say, “Just don’t pull a McCartney, dude. Just don’t pull a McCartney.”