Heavy Medal
Aug. 24th, 2008 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfield"The battles that count aren't the ones for gold medals. The struggles within yourself
-- the invisible, inevitable battles inside all of us -- that's where it's at."
- Jesse Owens
I have been critical, in this space and out of it, of the Olympics. As the closing ceremonies play in the background behind me, after two weeks of saturation coverage, certain things are coming into focus.
Ultimately, how one views the Olympics has everything to do with that person's conception of what constitutes sport. If you think of sport as a process-oriented, subjective demonstration of athletic strength, speed, grace and spirit, then you are probably a big fan of the Olympics. If you think of sport as a goal-oriented, objectively diagnostic exercise to figure out who really is the best at something, then you are probably frustrated with the capricious nature of the games. If you think of sport as a socio-political proxy for war between nations and an opportunity to illustrate national dominance over other peoples, then you are probably a Republican.
I remain a member of the second camp, although I am forced to admit that I was at times transfixed by some of the performances. In fact, I probably watched more of these Olympics than any Olympics since we were forced to write reports on the 1988 Calgary Olympics (I remember being thoroughly bored by the Luge).
Of course, there was the Michael Phelps spectacle. I refer not as much to his octo-medal feat as I do the unadulterrated deification and worship of this 23-year old guy who happens to be able to swim really fast. After Phelps' eighth medal victory, NBC's commentators were practically epic in their praise; they came so dangerously close to orgasm that I thought I was watching a 90's-era Madonna video. Seriously, Michael Phelps was great and all, but I must echo the words of ESPN's Tim Keown: "It seems almost un-American to question anything regarding the overall world dominance of Michael Phelps, but something weird runs through my mind every time someone tells me Phelps is the greatest Olympian of all time: I'm thinking Carl Lewis would have won a few more gold medals if track and field included the sideways 100 and 200, the backward 100 and 200, and the 100 and 200 individual medley (forward, sideways, backward)."
It was fun, though, watching James Blake knock off Roger Federer. And watching the USA Basketball team sweep up the shattered remnants of our "Dream Team's" reputation. And watching the women's soccer team win gold without the help of that bitch Abby Wambach. Watching the volleyball -- indoor and sand -- was mesmerizing, almost enough to get me to sign up for JCC recreational ball again. And lest you think me a total jingo*, I even enjoyed watching non-American domination in sports like badminton and whatever alien version of ping-pong they were playing.
*My favorite little game to play in my head, when I would watch a match between two foreign nations, was to imagine what a fusion of those two cuisines would taste like. Like French/Brazilian (yum), Cuban/Italian (hmm) or German/Chinese (ew).
Even so, I cannot in good conscience give the Olympics my full endorsement while we are still, for example, evaluating the amount of splash generated after someone does a dive of four somersaults from a handstand position three stories above the water. Or indulging the irrational lunacy of judging the relative merits of one synchronized swimming routine over another. The poor 16-year old girl who sacrificed her entire childhood and finished dead last in the gymnastic competition can do things that most people could not even do with the benefit of CGI. Not only is it impossible to name winners and losers in contests like this, the mere idea that we should is a joke.
I don't personally have the patience for the bombastic pageantry of opening and closing ceremonies, though I respect thoughtful effort they require and the cultural awareness they generate. But I suppose I have even less patience for the excrable crap the other networks air in competition.
So from now on I'll try to keep an open mind about the Olympics, by which I mean I will mutter my opinions under my breath rather than braying them like a jackass. But you might want to help me out by not bringing up things like Olympic sailing, or whatever that bullshit was with the hula hoops. And let me know when there's a medal for sarcasm; I've still got a few good years left in me.
-- the invisible, inevitable battles inside all of us -- that's where it's at."
- Jesse Owens
I have been critical, in this space and out of it, of the Olympics. As the closing ceremonies play in the background behind me, after two weeks of saturation coverage, certain things are coming into focus.
Ultimately, how one views the Olympics has everything to do with that person's conception of what constitutes sport. If you think of sport as a process-oriented, subjective demonstration of athletic strength, speed, grace and spirit, then you are probably a big fan of the Olympics. If you think of sport as a goal-oriented, objectively diagnostic exercise to figure out who really is the best at something, then you are probably frustrated with the capricious nature of the games. If you think of sport as a socio-political proxy for war between nations and an opportunity to illustrate national dominance over other peoples, then you are probably a Republican.
I remain a member of the second camp, although I am forced to admit that I was at times transfixed by some of the performances. In fact, I probably watched more of these Olympics than any Olympics since we were forced to write reports on the 1988 Calgary Olympics (I remember being thoroughly bored by the Luge).
Of course, there was the Michael Phelps spectacle. I refer not as much to his octo-medal feat as I do the unadulterrated deification and worship of this 23-year old guy who happens to be able to swim really fast. After Phelps' eighth medal victory, NBC's commentators were practically epic in their praise; they came so dangerously close to orgasm that I thought I was watching a 90's-era Madonna video. Seriously, Michael Phelps was great and all, but I must echo the words of ESPN's Tim Keown: "It seems almost un-American to question anything regarding the overall world dominance of Michael Phelps, but something weird runs through my mind every time someone tells me Phelps is the greatest Olympian of all time: I'm thinking Carl Lewis would have won a few more gold medals if track and field included the sideways 100 and 200, the backward 100 and 200, and the 100 and 200 individual medley (forward, sideways, backward)."
It was fun, though, watching James Blake knock off Roger Federer. And watching the USA Basketball team sweep up the shattered remnants of our "Dream Team's" reputation. And watching the women's soccer team win gold without the help of that bitch Abby Wambach. Watching the volleyball -- indoor and sand -- was mesmerizing, almost enough to get me to sign up for JCC recreational ball again. And lest you think me a total jingo*, I even enjoyed watching non-American domination in sports like badminton and whatever alien version of ping-pong they were playing.
*My favorite little game to play in my head, when I would watch a match between two foreign nations, was to imagine what a fusion of those two cuisines would taste like. Like French/Brazilian (yum), Cuban/Italian (hmm) or German/Chinese (ew).
Even so, I cannot in good conscience give the Olympics my full endorsement while we are still, for example, evaluating the amount of splash generated after someone does a dive of four somersaults from a handstand position three stories above the water. Or indulging the irrational lunacy of judging the relative merits of one synchronized swimming routine over another. The poor 16-year old girl who sacrificed her entire childhood and finished dead last in the gymnastic competition can do things that most people could not even do with the benefit of CGI. Not only is it impossible to name winners and losers in contests like this, the mere idea that we should is a joke.
I don't personally have the patience for the bombastic pageantry of opening and closing ceremonies, though I respect thoughtful effort they require and the cultural awareness they generate. But I suppose I have even less patience for the excrable crap the other networks air in competition.
So from now on I'll try to keep an open mind about the Olympics, by which I mean I will mutter my opinions under my breath rather than braying them like a jackass. But you might want to help me out by not bringing up things like Olympic sailing, or whatever that bullshit was with the hula hoops. And let me know when there's a medal for sarcasm; I've still got a few good years left in me.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-26 05:00 am (UTC)- Me, upon finding out that racewalking is an Olympic sport
I thought that was just something people did when trying to be the first in line for Celine Dion tickets without looking like they're trying to be the first in line for Celine Dion tickets.