Who else is a fan of the Olympics? I know I am, and whenever they roll around – winter or summer – I often find myself glued to the television, not just cheering for the United States, but every now and then pulling for underdog athletes or medal-less countries.
I officially became a fan of the Olympic Games when I was just a kid. It was 1984 and the Summer Games were held in the area where my family lived: Los Angeles. Even better than just being held nearby was the fact that my dad scored tickets.
So when I was 9, my parents, brother and I walked among thousands of others, between Olympic venues and cheered on American athletes. Mom and Dad bought us Olympic ball caps and pins celebrating various events that we wore with pride.
We were in the coliseum when gold-medal favorite Mary Decker fell in the 3,000 meter finals and we took in several boxing matches in which American athletes were favored and won. One of my favorite parts, however, was meeting and touching the enormous Budweiser clydesdales on display outside the coliseum.
Though I remember quite a bit about the overall experience, being only 9 at the time was definitely a disadvantage. There’s no way I could fully appreciate the special circumstances I was involved in, no way I could understand what the Olympic Games were all about. I was not a child athlete, had no Olympic dreams. I doubt I even realized the U.S.S.R. had boycotted those 1984 games.
Looking back now, I wish I’d been a bit older, a bit smarter, a bit more appreciative. But in the years since, I’ve enjoyed keeping track of the Olympics – on television, of course – every chance I get. As much as I love the country of my birth and the athletes representing it, I’m fond of hearing stories of others who enter the Games with odds stacked against them, such as luger Shiva Keshavan, who trains among cars on the streets of India; or stories of athletes entering the Winter Games from countries where winter is non-existent, such as the Jamaican bobsled team.
For me, it’s not necessarily about those athletes who are sponsored by big brands and photographed for magazine pages. It’s not about those who are favored to win gold, and when they take silver they stand on the podium with a disappointed frown.
It’s those “other” athletes’ stories, the stories of those without much chance of winning a coveted medal, that really make me appreciate all that the Olympics represent. The Games are about individuals like skier Antonio Pardo, the lone athlete from Venezuela, whose motto is “Do it because you love it.” He joyfully danced his way into the opening ceremonies, waving the Venezuelan flag with pride, knowing he will not hear his national anthem at these Games.
Don’t get me wrong. I want to see Americans succeed and win. I want to see them stand in the center spot on the podium with their hand over their heart, teary-eyed as the Star-Spangled Banner plays. But when they don’t make that top spot, nothing irritates me more than poor sportsmanship.
My favorite event thus far in these Games has been the snowboard slopestyle, and the men’s finals highlighted just about everything I love about the Olympics. American Sage Kotsenburg was shocked – or should I say “stoked” – to win the gold, and in the celebrations at the bottom of Rosa Khutor park, he was lifted into the air by the silver and bronze medalists: his Norwegian and Canadian competitors.
Were they disappointed in their finishes? Perhaps. But true sportsmanship shone through.
So in the coming days, as people around the world watch and cheer on their athletes, I’ll be chanting “U.S.A.” along with the rest of my country. I’ll keep an eye on the medal count, hopeful that our athletes continue to step up on the podium. But if not, I hope the men and women who represent us are filled with the spirit of the Olympics.
Because somewhere, there is a 9-year-old – a future athlete perhaps? – watching and learning what the Olympic Games are all about.
Andrea “Andi” Joseph is the Lifestyles and Business editor for South Valley Newspapers.
