Olympics

My past two weeks have been dominated by the Olympic coverage from China. Last night, for instance, I stayed up into the wee hours (4 a.m. to be precise) to watch the United States win gold after defeating Spain. Since I'm not normally a night owl, I hope this post makes some modicum of sense. If it doesn't, I'm not going to worry about it, because nobody but me pays any attention to it anyway. :)

The media hype the medal count (USA lead with 110, but China had the most gold) and the world and Olympic records broken, like Phelps winning 8 gold medals and setting new records just about every time he dipped his pinkie toe into a puddle. However, I love watching the Olympics not only for these phenomenal feats of determination and talent but also because of the stories.

The Olympics generate such phenomenal narratives--of triumph and defeat. For example, take Henry Cejudo. He's the 21-year-old son of undocumented Mexican aliens (and doesn't that phrase just sound odd?). His father walked out on the family 17 year ago, and Cejudo's mother raised her six kids with help of friends and family, moving from apartment to apartment, working several jobs at a time to keep the family afloat. Cejudo says he wasn't a good student, which is partly his reason for not wrestling at the collegiate level. But he took a chance, deciding to wrestle in the senior circuit, and won BIG. That's a phenomenal story. That's a story that highlights not only the joys of the Olympics but the possibility inherent in living in America.

Or consider Tyson Gay. When he didn't qualify for 100m in track and field, he made no excuses. The interviewer and the commentary guys gave him plenty of opportunity to blame nursing a hamstring injury for not running fast enough to make the medal round, but he didn't take it. He flat out told the reporter, I just didn't get it done (that's not a direct quote, notice the lack of quotation marks). Wow. That's an awesome statement of personal responsibility in this age of celebrities (including athletes) and others who blame everyone and everything else for their own bad behaviors. Gay didn't win the gold (Usain Bolt did without even running full out, a kid-glove slap to those he ran against, but that's another day's posting topic), but Gay did win my admiration. That's a story I'd like American youth to hear. That's an attitude that should be emulated. You rock, Tyson Gay!

Stories like those are what make the Olympic games so dynamic. When watching, I want everyone to win (yes, even the non-USA people) because each one has a story of personal triumph and hardship. But I realize that just by being at the games, they've won already. These athletes have managed to accomplish feats that highly paid politicians cannot: they participate in a global contest with honor, respect, and pride, and manage to do so with little acrimony. The troubles in Georgia served to highlight the phenomenal accomplishments of the Olympic games. It saddens me that the world leaders cannot take a clue from these contestants and strive to live more respectfully with each other.

Yes, I know the Olympics had their problems (the Tae Kwon Do competitor who attacked a referee, the Swedish wrestler who through a fit when he didn't win and was later proven right that a call was especially bad [layers upon layers of problems there], or the Chinese gymnasts whose ages seem a little iffy). Overall, though, the games remind us of the possibilities, they encourage us to strive to be our best, they serve as hope that the future may be brighter than today.

Post script: Just a few minutes after writing the above message, I read the story of Samia Yusef Omar of Somalia. Samia is what the Olympics are really about. I'm not even going to try to retell her story; just read it.