Thursday, August 21, 2008

My Olympic flame burns bright

I thought I was done with the Olympics. When the 2004 summer games were held in Athens I couldn’t have cared less. I was even less interested when the winter games were held two years ago in ... well, wherever they were held. I can’t be bothered to look it up. All I remember is some U.S. skier who partied a lot and didn't worry so much about little things like the actual competition.

Somehow, though, things are different this year. Since the Olympics started two weeks ago I've spent nearly all of my free time sprawled on my couch watching men and women who have dedicated their life to achieving physical perfection. With my near total inaction I am paying tribute to their lifetime of work.
I couch potatoed at an Olympic level.
Like any American with a soul I got caught up in the story of Michael Phelps. I caught all but 1 1/2 of his gold medal swims and most of his preliminary rounds. I wondered like everyone else if he could accomplish a feat as monumental as bringing home eight gold medals. But even more I wondered what NBC would have done with its approximately 93 hours of Michael Phelps features had he come out and stunk up the pool in his first two events.
Fun facts I've learned about Michael Phelps since Aug. 8: His heart pumps eight gallons of blood a minute. He has three extra toes. He eats an entire cow at every meal. His touch can cure the common cold. He can communicate with fish but finds they rarely have much to talk about.
I'm not just getting caught up in the big stuff, though. Anyone can sit down for two hours of gymnastics and call himself an Olympics fan. Getting excited about women's beach volleyball is easy, too. But it takes true dedication to spend most of a beautifully sunny day watching Eastern European women compete in power lifting or tiny Asian men play badminton — both alone and in pairs. Since the Olympics began I have seen fencing and field hockey, trampolining and team handball. I've watched people I'll never care about again play sports I'm pretty sure nobody ever actually plays outside of the Olympics or maybe a particularly adventurous gym class.
I've learned things watching these Olympics. I've learned that competitive trampolining is a real thing, and that even guys who compete in something as lame as air pistol get caught for using performance enhancing drugs. If we can't trust the guys with the BB guns, who can we trust?
I learned that Croatia had the top men's water polo team in the world coming into these games, which came as a surprise. I would have guessed someplace sunny and surrounded by water. Australia, maybe. Or Barbados. Or Atlantis. I can only assume the Croatians are able to draw strength from their totally excellent mustaches.
I'm not sure I'll be able to maintain this level of interest for the rest of the Olympics. I wasn't prepared coming in for the kind of couch time I'd be putting in, and I'm afraid I'm out of condition for these extended sessions in front of the TV. If I can't even get through the 84 heats of the 400-meter hurdles without feeling like I need to go up for a walk or read a book or something I don't know what chance I have when it comes time for a marathon session of, well, the marathon.
I have to try, though. These men and women are giving their all for their country and I will, too. Even if it means picking up my own performance-enhancing substances — another case of pop and a giant-sized bag of chips — to get me through.
USA. USA. USA.

1 comment:

Tom said...

Hmm.CROATIA with over 1000 islands is very sunny.


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