Olympic Dreams

As a child, I was obsessed with the Olympics. My love for Kristi Yamaguchi knew no bounds. She was so tiny, so good, and the possessor of such enviably perfect 90s bangs. Plus, she grew up in the SF Bay Area, so I considered her my neighbor. I regularly come across articles that suggest it is meaningful for black girls to see representations of themselves in the movies, the toy stores, the White House, etc., and I know these reports are true because Kristi made it okay to be tiny. You think Lizzie is too small for this activity, coach/PE teacher/boys on the playground? Kristi Yamaguchi is on the cover of Sports Illustrated and the Wheaties box. How do you like them apples?*

Watching the Winter Olympics is always a slightly bizarre experience, though, because I know so little about these sports. They're a lot different than the sports I follow, and the athletes' behavior often baffles me. I'd like to share some of the observations we've made at our household so far this Olympic season.

Long Track Speed Skating: Surely, this activity is hard. They look seriously winded when they're finished, and they have skated quite a long way. It's hard to take them seriously, though, when one of their "maneuvers" is to put their hands behind their backs and glide along at a seemingly leisurely pace. It's almost like I expect them to be twiddling their thumbs back there.

Short Track Speed Skating: This feels to me like the Nascar of skating. How can anyone ever be confident that they will win? It seems to depend too much on how other people choose to skate the race. I wouldn't want to get too close to anyone who could slice me open with their razor-sharp skates. I did appreciate the first race I saw, though, where, with a few laps to go, Apolo Ohno came from the very back and blew by everyone. (Sidenote: Why, Apolo, can't you get rid of that hair on your chin?)

Ski Jumping: Why do they have these little pine tree markers in the landing area? Couldn't they spray paint lines of different colors to indicate distance to the jumpers? And if this is some kind of tradition, why doesn't Google know about it?

Nordic Combined: Maybe all cross country skiers do this, but after crossing the finish line during the Nordic Combined, the medalists all lay down on the snow. In distance running, to lie down is the absolute worst thing you can do. I once lay down after running 18 miles and quite literally could not get up for over 30 minutes. If you collapse at the finish line of a marathon, a medic tends to you immediately. These guys just lay there past the finish line, though, like, "Sorry, losers, you can ski around us."

Pairs Figure Skating: Even after we had agreed to disagree about the "Is this a sport? How is it different from gymnastics? How is it different from diving?" debate, we continued to be baffled by all the falling that was going on. Every routine we watched included a fall. The commentators said something about the new scoring system requiring the pairs to attempt jumps that they cannot even routinely execute in practice. Why is this good for the sport? Are the Chinese gold medalists (whom I did not see perform) so much better than everyone else that Ms. Canada just has to hope she can land that triple salchow on a wing and a prayer?** Falling must be the worst. You must know almost immediately that you're not positioned correctly, and then as you hit the deck, you hear thousands of people go "ohhhhhh." And then you have to keep going.

Moguls: First, I love any sport that has its own vocabulary. I would describe their posture as follows: their bodies look like marionettes, and someone is tugging constantly at the strings attached to their knees while their upper bodies stay frozen. Jonny Moseley just says their arms and upper bodies are "quiet."

Also, I noticed a pattern that stayed true for both men and women. If the finisher has nailed her routine, she thrusts her arms up in the air almost before crossing the finish line and then follows it with repeated pole-pumping. A moguler (?) then calms himself to wait for his scores, and he might give a slight pole-pump when he is satisfied with them. If he finds them disappointing, he just gives a slight head shake. When one wins the gold medal, one's face is overwhelmed with a look of disbelief and one stumbles around aimlessly until others start the hugging.

I always avoided sports/activities which are judged. However, watching the moguls made me recognize that I went about my PhD application all wrong. I was pleased when I completed my application because I had worked hard and it was decidedly the very best work I could do. I didn't throw my hands in the air, though; I thought I had to wait until I found out if I got in before I could do that. Now that I'm on the waiting list-- now that I've let someone else determine whether my application was a success-- I'm not sure I'll end up getting the chance to do any pole pumps. And I should have, because I nailed my routine. I am doing some mental pole pumps and arm thrusting right now. I'm also considering that when I have children, maybe I should encourage them to participate in some kind of judged activity. Maybe it will help them develop a different, multi-faceted perception of what constitutes "success."

This brings me to another point. All my life, I have given my mom a hard time about the fact that sporting events make her cry. Those montages they do about the backstories of Olympic athletes are especially effective at getting the tears flowing. Growing up, we always laughed at her. Mom, I owe you an apology, so here it is:

I'd still rather watch the events than the montages, but I find myself getting choked up when people give their best efforts, too. Teaching high school taught me that a lot of people are too afraid of failure to attempt things that are really, really hard. Now that I have given my very best effort at something that was really, really hard, I can appreciate how good it must feel to succeed at something one wants very, very badly. I'm sorry it took me 27.5 years before I realized why you get so emotional about it. I'm glad to know it now. I'm looking forward to getting together to cry at Vickie's graduation.

Back to the Olympics- it's men's figure skating night! Is it just me, or has this gotten a lot less campy than it was in the 90s?

*"How do you like them apples?" is a term that originated during WWI. The soldiers called the shells they used apples (they looked like candy apples), so after a successful shelling, soldiers would shout "How do you like them apples?" to taunt their (presumably dead) opponents.

** We get "on a wing and a prayer" from the WWII song from the UK by the same name. I don't remember where I learned these things, but as a scholar of wartime literature, they are imprinted in my brain.

("Olympic Dreams" is the only piece of written work I have ever had published. I believe I was about 8 or 9 when I wrote it, and somebody told me to submit it to a children's poetry anthology, which accepted it. I don't really remember what it was about, but it rhymed. I think it was influenced by Shel Silverstein though it was serious.)