Amazing Athletes

I am by no means an athlete, never have been, never will be.  I'll hike up a "moderate" trail, splash around with the kids in the local lake or river, take the dog for a walk around the block, but that is the extent of my exercising.  Aside from football, I don't watch much either.  I watch a tennis match or hockey game if there's nothing else on, but I'm more likely to just pop a movie in the DVD or tromp around my gardens with trowel or camera in hand.  The Olympic games are a bit different though.  They have the ability to make me a fan of just about any sport conceivable.  But for a long time I had stopped paying attention.

I was barely 9 during the Munich games.  They were the first Olympics I can recall.  I do remember Mark Spitz.  I remember Olga too.  I can recall the music, pomp of the ceremonies, the national anthem being played, the excitement of the games themselves.  I have little memory of the tragedy of those games, perhaps my parents protected us from that to some extent.  I am better able to recall emotions and I recall there being a sense of melancholy.   But I also remember liking it and anticipating 1976.

In the 1976 winter games I discovered speed skating, figure skating, bobsledding and ski jumping.  My sister got a Dorothy Hamill haircut and I knew the names of athletes from other countries, like Franz Klammer and John Curry.  I became enthralled during the summer games that year.  I followed every story, every event and all the results.  I kept a scrap book of everything Olympic that year (that was later stolen out of my storage space 20 years later).   

Of course the '76 Olympics belonged to Nadia.  But there were others.  It was the one and only time I watched and enjoyed boxing.  The American boxers that year were amazing.  I still remember Sugar Ray and Spinks and their bouts.  I also became a new fan of diving and track and field.  Plus there were new events for women.

But I also remember politics becoming an issue at the games.  Republic of China and several African nations refused to participate for political reasons.  It was the beginning of other boycotts to come and why I ended up not watching anymore.  Politics really shouldn't have any place in the Olympics.  It should stand as the "safe haven" of such stupidity.  The Cold War was still alive and well during the '76 games.  Russia and Germany dominated the games and were our biggest rivals.  To beat them was quite an accomplishment because we all knew these athletes were just robotic, heartless people whose lives were completely dominated by their governments.  Our athletes were the heart and soul of the United States.  That is just the way it was then. Our athletes trained, their athletes were brainwashed and enhanced. How silly it all seems now.

I threw myself into the thrill of it all however.  It was an escape from an otherwise terrible year both within my own little world and the world around me.  It was the year my father was unemployed and had to live in New Hampshire for several months without us.  It was the year of Son of Sam.  We put all our hope and faith into a peanut farmer from Georgia.  There were terrorists in Entebbe and Cuba.  Vietnam, the middle east and Ireland were still hot buttons.  Protests were becoming volitile and deadly in China and Thailand.  The so-called oil cirisis of previous years were still leaving it's mark and our country stood on the brink of a recession. It was a year of great uncertainty, and for a 13 year old just learning about the effects of the outside world on my own world, it was a scary time.  The Olympics took me away for a few days.

I much anticipated the 1980 games.  The winter games were held in New York.  My family had gone camping near Lake Placid.  My father and I had hiked up the bobsled run in the summer.  What American didn't love our American hockey team that year?  Winning the Gold medal was nothing compared to beating the Russians.  I was watching, edge of my seat, yelling at the TV, jumping up and down, crying even I think.  I still remember vividly the image of James Craig standing on the ice with the American flag drapped over him after winning the gold, looking for his father in the crowd.  Still gives me chills. 

And then our country boycotted the summer games.  I was completely disappointed.  How could we do this to our athletes?  Why would we stoop to this level, bring politics into the Olympic arena like this?  I lost all interest in the games after that.  I knew of the accomplishments of people like Mary Lou, Carl Lewis, Flo Jo, the USA "dream team" basketball team, Ben Johnson, Lance Armstrong, Brian Boitano, Kristi Yamaguchi and of course who could miss the whole spectacle that was Harding and Kerrigan.  But I didn't watch their achievements. 

That changed a few days ago.  I caught my S.O. watching the women's beach volleyball.  I instantly fell in love with these two amazing women Kerri Walsh and Misty May-Treanor.  Then we were watching diving and swimming.  I was blown away by the seeming effortlessness with which Michael Phelps moves through the water.  No wonder people are talking about him.  And then I watched Rebecca Soni in the 200m breaststroke and I found myself on the edge of my seat.  It started off so mundane, even the announcers seemed half asleep as they talked up Australia's Jones.  All of a sudden the announcers came alive, I came alive.  This American was suddenly just pouring it on.  Wow! I've been watching quite a bit ever since.  I've watched volleyball, running, gymnastics.  My S.O. and I are staying up way past our normal bedtime to watch sporting events we never usually watch. 

It is good to be back.