Time & Marie make it to the Pit Stop as team number eight, but the good news for them is they still have both Express Passes. I'm starting to hope they beat John's record and get Philiminated with two of those in their pocket.
Final approach. Nicky & Kim's driver has one of those bobble-headed dashboard dogs that are so popular among Santiago cab drivers. That takes me back. A friend of mine brought one back for me after she lived for most of a year in Santiago, but I got rid of it sometime after it lost its bobble. The baseball wives are all but flogging their cabbie, while Rowan is in a cab somewhere behind them talking about how it's all fate now. Nicky tattles to Kim that Marie refused to give her the Express Pass. And then the baseball wives' driver, Juan, finds the place. They go running all the way into Phil's arms, and beg him to tell them they're not getting eliminated. "You're not eliminated," Phil says obligingly, though the "yet" barely goes unspoken, and he has to shout over their happy squeals that they're team number nine. "But it was a really tough leg, huh?" he observes. Kim says again that it was the hardest thing she's ever done. What she doesn't say is that they wouldn't even be here if another team hadn't screwed up even worse, and more times.
Finally here come Rowan & Shane, hollering all the way to Phil that they're coming. But of course he wastes little time Philiminating them. Rowan & Shane hug, and Shane interviews, "As I've always said, you can't have great success without great failure." But he's just shown that you can have great failure without any success at all. And Rowan talks about how he appreciates Shane more. They exchange awkward "I love you"s and are seen walk-of-shaming back to the bridge arm-in-arm. So that's the second of two teams who probably should have been Philiminated this episode. I figure that the first half of any season of The Amazing Race exists only to let us get to know the teams who will become the final contenders, while quickly weeding out the hapless, the weak, the stupid, the middle-aged, and the dysfunctional. But after they're all gone this season, I'm not sure who's going to be left.
M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at M.Giant[at]gmail.com.