THE OLYMPICS

It sounds odd to say some of my more memorable experiences have occurred while reclining on my living room couch but that is the gospel truth. You see, I love the Olympics, either summer or winter. They used to be scheduled in the same year, every four years. Now they are still four years apart but now they are staggered so there are Games every two years. This is helpful for those of us who can’t wait for the next Games.

Thanks to the miracle of television and new slo-mo technology we get to see these events from start to finish in great detail. To those who gripe about the number of commercials ruining your viewing experience, I say move to a country with state sponsored telecasts and see where they are getting their coverage come. I gladly watch, what in most cases, are very creative, often humorous ads to get the coverage we do. It is a very small price to pay. Yes, I love the little segments they do on big name and not so big name competitors, shedding much insight into them and the countries they represent. I even enjoy dressage, archery, the skeleton and other less prominent events. Curling is even starting to grow on me.

The opening and closing ceremonies, are can’t miss TV for me. The sight of all the athletes together in their countries colors and uniforms warms my heart. The mystery of who will be given the honor of lighting the Olympic flame. Then the Games themselves with world class athletes competing head to head and the added bonus of many of them are representing the good old U S of A. And as someone who gets misty eyed at a beautiful sunset I turn to jelly when our national anthem is played for one of our own.

The memorable experiences I mentioned cover many years and both winter and summer Games. My personal list of memorable moments from the Olympics began with the 1960 Squaw Valley winter Games. The men’s hockey team accomplished the seemingly impossible task of defeating Canada, Russia and then Czechoslovakia to win the gold. I feel the feat matched that of the U.S. men’s hockey team winning the gold at Lake Placid in 1980. If Al Michaels had been around in 1960 we might have had a “Do you believe in miracles?” I and II.

The 1960 summer Games in Rome introduced to the world a light heavyweight boxer from the United States named Cassius Clay. To say he burst on the scene would be understating his impact on the world. Unlike most that experience fleeting fame only to drift from the spotlight, Cassius Clay was just getting started. In the coming years he would go on to such world wide popularity and influence that he is considered by many to be the most popular athlete ever. At the Atlanta Games of 1996as Muhammad Ali, he was selected to light the Olympic torch.

The most recent and to me the most dramatic, heart stopping event of all was the men’s swimmers 4x100 meter relay in Beijing. Sitting all by myself in my dark living room I yelled at the top of my lungs as I jumped off my couch, fist pumping furiously at what I had just seen. Swimming the anchor leg for the United States, Jason Lezak, soundly beaten 30 meters from the finish, summoned energy from god knows where to nip the favored French team. When I say nip, I mean nip. Michael Phelps, leaning over the edge of the pool and looking down at the finish had to look up at the scoreboard to determine who won. Even watching slo-mo re-runs on television it was difficult to tell who won. Phelps’s resultant arms stretched high, wide, open-mouth scream will be etched in my mind forever. It still gives me chills.

Those same games also produced the most dominating performance I have ever witnessed in big time competition in any sport. The men’s 100 meter Olympic final is the marquee event in track and field. The title of world’s fastest human is at stake. The field is loaded with cheetah quick men who normally lunge at the finish in unison. A photo often needed to determine a winner. Not this time. Usain Bolt, a tall, reed thin man wearing the green and yellow of Jamaica toyed with the field. Half way through the race he is looking around to see where everyone was. He eased up before the finish line and still obliterated the world record.

A stretch of memorable women’s gymnasts hold a special place in my heart. Like the rest of the world my daughters were mesmerized by Olga Korbut, Nadia Comanici, and Mary Lou Retton. Olga, 14 year old Nadia who scored a perfect 10 and Mary Lou with her beautiful smile and American flag uniform, inspired my daughters to the point that they would flip flop around the house, diving off furniture, rolling on the floor, then jump up, legs together, arms stretched high, head back and chest thrust forward, a perfect imitation of their heroes. They were living proof that these athletes inspire youth around the world.

No one who witnessed it will ever forget the hand raised, black fisted salute of John Carlos and Tommie Smith on the podium in Mexico City, 1968. Their enduring image is a reminder of a turbulent time.


There are many athletes who stand out to me, many because of winning performances but some for other reasons. Dorothy Hamil was a magnificent skater but I remember her hair style that had women everywhere telling their hairdresser “This is what I want to look like.” Dick Fosbury introducing the Fosbury Flop, taking high jumping to a new level. Eddie the Eagle, a so-so ski jumper from England, captivated the world by overachieving to the max. Cathy Freeman, an aborigine Australian, winning the 400 meters in the Sydney Games of her home country. Ian Thorpe, the Australian swimmer, a national hero and as close to a fish as one can be without gills. I loved watching the medal winning machine, speed skater Bonnie Blair and her graceful side to side glide.

Right at the top of individual performances would be that of downhill racer Franz Klammer. In what was to become recognized as one of the more dramatic down hill runs ever, Klammer came down the hill as if trying to stay ahead of an avalanche, arms flailing, first on one ski then the other, his form in no way resembled the classic form expected of world class skiers. It was very clear he was determined to win that race at all cost. His complete lack of regard for his own safety won the hearts of everyone.

I happened to be skiing a while back at Heavenly Valley in the Lake Tahoe area where some of the women’s Olympic ski team members were training for the down hill. I was standing off to the side looking over the edge of a precipitous drop-off contemplating whether I had the courage to traverse my way down. Suddenly, two blurs in blue go by me in a tuck position, over the edge on the fly, flitting over the surface of the snow in a straight line and disappearing around a bend way down the hill before I could blink. I was smitten forever. Franz Klammer’s run personifies that type of courage and have-no-fear attitude. The down hill is my favorite event, winner or summer.

Lastly, there are those accomplishments that I remember more for their collective greatness rather than a single performance. Eric Heiden comes to mind with 5 gold medals in speed skating. Mark Spitz winning 7 gold medals in swimming has to be on the list and of course Michael Phelps with his 8 gold medals seems like a record that no one will surpass. But then we said that about Spitz.

As I watch the winter Olympic Games from Vancouver I wonder which athletes will capture the imagination of the world and go on to become house hold names. I have a feeling Apolo Anton Ono will be one. I already know that the opening ceremony is right up there with my favorites and the singing of Hallelujah by K. D. Lang and Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell are the first songs to join my list of memorable memories.