JROMANO: Walking out of the Palasport Olimpico after the hockey gold medal game Sunday, I ran into hordes of Italians heading to the Olympic stadium for the Closing Ceremonies. Children were everywhere. Some had their faces painted, some were dressed in Disney outfits, some were just bundled in their winter's best. And every one of them seemed to have the wide-eyed anticipation of something magical that only an innocent can possess. It made me love Italy. And it made me want to come home.
GSHELTON: The parole board met. I'm coming home. After all these days, after all these events, I get on a plane Tuesday. I hope the family hasn't moved. I haven't seen them since leaving for the Super Bowl on Jan. 28 (I think it was this year), so I hope everyone recognizes me. I also hope there is still an Outback. On Saturday night, two other writers and I went to a restaurant where the menu is, well, adventurous. Earlier in the Games, I had spaghetti with wild boar (really, it tastes just like the tame boar). This time the waiter told me to trust him, and he brought a dish of raw veal with a raw egg in the middle. It looked like a heart transplant, to be honest, and I didn't have the heart to eat it.