Posted on 02/24/2002 2:29:17 PM PST by Utah Girl
Little things that make up lasting Olympic memories
The Olympics are too big to put into one box, so we divide them into bite-size pieces.In the end, there is no way to remember complete events, the sequential results, even what day they occurred. The names get fuzzier with each memory stored on top of the next one.
For millions of people, the Olympics were what NBC brought to them. They were up close, sometimes in slow-motion, spliced into digestible nuggets with a backdrop of endless analysis. The lasting images may be of Sarah Hughes' squeal, or Apolo Ohno's fall, maybe Jimmy Shea's photograph of his grandfather. Maybe it's of Bob Costas in an easy chair.
I'm only assuming he was in an easy chair, probably near a fireplace. I never saw NBC's coverage. The one time I saw Bob Costas, he was eating kung pao in a restaurant. I did catch Matt Lauer in a beret once, but that might have been a bad dream.
My images rarely were the same ones everyone else saw. Friends and family would send e-mails, asking about controversies and events that I knew nothing about. I tried to explain that I was too close to the Olympics to have a clue what was going on.
But I know I was there.
I know because I saw the Mormon Tabernacle Choir joining the wave at
the Opening Ceremony. I heard helicopters buzzing overhead, impossible not to notice when the music and the cheering stopped. I remember swimming through a crowd of young girls outside the stadium, each in an oversize, fluffy costume and anxiously waiting her worldwide role as an extra in the ceremonies. It was like walking through a giant bag of cotton balls, except they all wanted to high-five.
I remember standing in a crowd of Polish fans, cheering Poland ski jumper and national hero Adam Malysz while getting cell-phone calls from a world away. I got shivers when the crowd erupted over Jonny Moseley's dinner roll -- twice. I got them again when the crowd gave a similar reception to a skier who face-planted among the moguls, hiked back up to retrieve his skis, and finished the race.
I heard tiny Bonnie Blair, standing on her toes to get a better view, rattling a cow bell for every speedskater that passed, American or not. I saw Chris Witty enter the interview room, and was surprised that an Olympic champion and world-record holder could look so much like a bookstore clerk. I saw teammate Jennifer Rodriguez answering questions about her bronze medal from the seat of an exercise bike she was riding.
I smelled countless sportswriters jammed onto slow-moving buses. I heard countless languages spoken at every turn. I saw the sun come up in the Wasatch Mountains, more times than was necessary to appreciate. I tasted too many hot dogs, some of them too many times.
I heard Swiss curling fans burst into quick, incomprehensible chants. I saw Lech Walesa sitting in the warm sunshine, cheering a countryman. I saw one of the Games' greatest champions cry into his hands at the mention of his dead father. I saw an unknown luger fall short of a medal and embrace a dying father.
I saw one women's hockey team cry as the other threw its equipment in the air, one stick landing several rows into the crowd. I heard a goalie from Belarus nearly apologize for his team beating Sweden in men's hockey. I felt the noise when the Americans beat the Russians.
I saw a man from Nepal and a man from Cameroon embrace at the cross-country finish line. I saw a luger cry because he just watched his son compete in the same race he had. I heard Kenyan skier Philip Boit politely asking for the cell phone number of his hero, Norwegian cross-country legend Ole Einar Bjoerndalen. And I heard Daehle give it back.
I saw people with no chance of winning basking in the moment. And I was one of them.
The Gold speckled Vera Wang gown was beautiful...
The one I couldn't stand was Kiss. My 7 year old thought they were awful, and I tend to agree. There is something about seeing 50 year old men in makeup, long hair, and platforms that turns my stomach.
My wife and I had a long discussion about how raising a 3 year-old Russian boy in the US will be a difficult task - with this accepted type of remark.
I wonder, had it been Mexico, or some country from Africa (rather than Russia), would he have been so comfortable to say, "Mexicans are sore losers", or "Africans are sore losers?"
I will not call the station, however. I'll let my actions speak for themselves, and raise my son to do the same.
Timothy Goebel, a bronze (US ) medalist, skated in prime time during the exhibition. Remember? Bye, bye Miss American Pie? He was good, by the way!
I'll be the first to admit Russia went off the deep end and deserves some flack for their (threatened) actions.
But I'll also be the first to point out the US loves to hate Russia, its athletes, its very being.
I thought it was so obvious during these games. Yes, perhaps I have a chip on my shoulder lately. But you would too! Great coverage and posts by you during these games, my friend!
These are my favorite moments:
1) Sarah Hughes winning the Gold 2) Sasha Cohen handing Bush her cell-phone
My least favorite moments:
1) Kiss at the closing ceremony. 2) Christina Aguilara at the closing ceremony.
I'm also upset at NBC for loading the first hour of the closing ceremony with commercials. I let my kids stay up late, and my girls fell asleep during the commercials. I'm also upset that they didn't show the fireworks.
Thanks again for the threads!
I would think a newscast would not use such opinions outside of an editorial piece, but the young kids straight out of college who don't know Journalism are working the local news.
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