February 9, 2022
The Olympics are on again. It
seems like just last summer that we were watching Olympic updates…..oh, wait. It
was just last summer that we had the summer games on our televisions.
And now here we are again with
the Winter Olympics – which is actually a kind of a throw back salute to the
past. I say kind of, because it used to
be that the winter and summer Olympics were always in the same year, with the winter
first, and the summer second.
1992 was the last year to have
both winter (Albertville) and summer (Barcelona) Olympic games in the same
year.
Then, two years later, in
1994, the Winter Olympics were held again, in Lillehammer, Norway. This was a
decision made by the International Olympic Committee in 1986. As one who’s always
watched the Olympics, I thought it was a good idea, even if it felt weird to
have the winter games again so soon that first time.
Now, of course, it just feels
normal, and I would imagine that from an organizational standpoint it was a
good decision. This way, you’re not taxing the officials to be super busy in
one year only out of four.
David and I tend to watch more
of the winter games than we do of the summer ones. Looking at our lives, that
doesn’t make any sense, really. I did skate as a kid, but living out in a rural
area, with only two friends close by, there was never any opportunity to go
sledding or tobogganing—and no hills whatsoever close by that were available
for that purpose.
And really, while I loved
skating and would skate on the frozen pond-slash-marshy area that was across
the road from our house back in the day, I wasn’t ever the athletic type.
Activity was never really encouraged when I was a kid, and, not living in a
town, there weren’t any organized local sports in my area. Or at least, there
were never any that I knew of.
For David’s part, he never had
any interest in hockey. He did live in a town, but he told me years ago that
his father didn’t want him to participate in little league baseball or any
other organized sport, because it would interfere with his golf trips with his
buds and his week every summer at a cottage.
My mother did arrange for me
to have dance classes and to be a majorette when I was about twelve, but I didn’t
excel at either of those activities. I did twirl my baton in a few parades, but
after a couple of years, we agreed—my mother and I—that I had gleaned all I
could from that particular experience.
Despite our lack of
athleticism, David and I both do love to watch the winter games! Monday night
we watched some women’s freestyle skiing, I think its subtitle was “big air”?
We also watched the mixed team ski jumping. We are looking forward to catching
some curling in the coming week. Not the mixed teams, but the regular men’s and
then women’s team event. There are the round robin portion that will lead into
the semi-finals. And then of course, the bronze medal game, followed by the gold
medal game.
The first year that curling
was reinstated as a medal sport at the Olympics (1998) was the first time we’d
ever watched the sport, and we were both into it.
We also have watched a lot of figure
skating in the past. We liked the pairs and the ice dancing, especially. We
were yacking back and forth as we watched that freestyle event, and we both agree
that these athletes make their sports look so easy. And we marveled as those
women in the freestyle event went down the huge drop, some backwards, and then
leapt and spun in the air, then landed and again, some backwards. We thought it
wasn’t just toned muscles one would need to compete in that event, but nerves
of steel.
I confessed, and David agreed,
we would both be shaking on our skis and feeling ill just standing at the top
of that hill, envisioning hurling ourselves down.
I suppose that one could class
our viewing of the winter games as a kind of passive patriotism. We always
cheer team Canada on, of course. But we also cheer on all the young women and
men who have worked hard, and who strive to be stronger, higher, faster, to be
the best that they can be.
The Olympics have served as a
vehicle for worldwide friendships. They also provide us with the chance, for a
brief time, for us to come together as people, our focus on something not
egocentric, something that, at its heart and soul, is not connected to
politics.
It’s a time to celebrate those
who’ve had a dream, who’ve set goals, and who’ve dedicated themselves to a
course of action. It’s a time to cheer on those who leave it all out there and lay
it all down in the trying. Winning is of course the north star, but it isn’t
the only benefit to be had from the process. Yes, the glory of the gold belongs
to the winners, and I’m certain serves to motivate them.
But I also believe that those
who have given their all but, in the end, fall short can still stand tall, and for
one very important reason.
The odds were against them,
and there were no guarantees, and it did indeed take long, tough hours over years
where much would be sacrificed again, and again, and again just to reach the
point where they earned the privilege to compete at the Olympics. Yet, despite all
of that, they stepped up and gave it their best, anyway.
Or, to paraphrase the immortal
words of Theodore Roosevelt, at least they failed by daring greatly, thus
distinguishing themselves from those who never find the gumption to even try.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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