Did you stop being an Olympic Athlete for any particular Reason?

Do you know why you never made it to the Olympics?

Was it lack of exposure to the particular sports that are offered there?

Was it lack of ability?

Lack of desire?

Some other reason?

When I was little I fancied myself as very fast as runner.

In fourth, fifth and sixth grades (1980-1982) I would win the Presidential Physical Fitness Award and reaffirm my self image as a good athlete.

I was strong and tough and quick, compared to my peers at little Elm Heights Elementary near the IU campus in Bloomington, Indiana.

Of course, mostly I based my comparisons against my circle of buddies and peers from my one class, which included about 15 or so immediate classmates.

I can almost list them by name. 12 or so of us were from town and about 6 were bussed in from the country (Monroe County rural side of town to the east) .

I can almost break down how the gamut of us acquitted ourselves later as athletes.

Not much to tell, maybe the highlight being Paul who swam at Kenyon College as an adult.

In middle school starting in sixth grade, our peer class opened up to a lot more guys. Competition. And bodies. From two or more other elementary schools, this increased our number to maybe 100 or more males? Some of the better athletes included Mark Richardson, a kid who later tried out for the Olympic hockey team at the lowest level and apparently tried his hand in minor league baseball.

I was competitive athletically with a lot of these guys; I could run, do push ups or pull ups as well as most of them. I was one of the better swimmers among us, and only Paul (aforementioned), Peter Hoff and Mike Chapman could beat me in the pool. They all swam on clubs.

My size wasn't remarkable but I hadn't reached my high school spurt yet (My freshman year I went from 5'8" to 6'0", stopping at 6'1" my sophomore year).

One thing that seems to have taken the wind out of my sails as a competitor was the divorce of my parents.

That started my sixth grade year and legally finalized near the end of my 8th grade year, going into high school at Bloomington South (Fall, 1985). Ten years after the original announcement I came to a realization of this fact sort of as a personal ephiphany. When I was a 22 year old college student, working part time.

That was a thing that perhaps harmed my self esteem or self determination to be the "best", to really be focused on being a winner. I think that my self image took a blow, I got lazy in many respects, and I didn't push myself for a long time.

I was a really good table tennis player at an early age, but the nearest club was in Indianapolis on the north side, a good hour and a half from me. I toyed with the idea of going up there throughout adolescence, but I never did. I would play a few good peers on occasion, and even play some international talent at a high level. It was great and satisfying to be able to beat adults from Asian countries. I was particularly impressed at how good some Indians were at the game. I assumed that Chinese and Koreans were always good at the sport.

I didn't get involved formally in regular tennis, either, but in retrospect I should have done precisely that. And probably baseball, too, especially in the area of pitching.

But I wasn't involved in the competition enough as a kid.

And it was by choice.

I always thought about going out for the football team after my failed attempt in seventh grade, but it never came to fruition.

So I played more and more church basketball and other pick up games. This sport dominated my adult years, even up until this year (2008).

And occasionally volleyball, and soccer.

Now I do military strength conditioning.

It's OK.

Occasionally we race each other. I do all right for my age.

But Olympic dreams are past me now.

So what made the difference?

Mostly me, partially circumstances.

But I love to see others do their best and win their glory.

The competetor in me lives on.

Vicariously.

In sports.

Clinch

Self Esteem, Reassurance and Redemption: USA Basketball

Today the US basketball studs did what was good for my soul. And let me just extrapolate that sentiment and propose that the drubbing that they laid on the Spanish selection was good for the American soul.

We are the best.

Still.

No doubt about it.

2004 was a hard time for a lot of us: we were dragging on in a war in Iraq, losing soldiers daily in a controversial conflict, the presidential race got people's dander up, and to compound it all the US "Dream Team 5?" lost THREE times in the Olympics and barely escaped with a BRONZE medal.

A bronze medal in Olympic basketball?

1988 was excusable: those were our unexperienced college guys who lost to professional Russians and Lithuanians combined. They did their best and provoked the rule change to include our NBA best.

1972 was a silver because of some crazy quirks and letting the Reds stay in the game. Kind of like our Olympic hockey team in 1980 over the Soviets and the others. Amazing miracles do happen on ice and the hardwood every now and then: a single team can catch that mystical lightning in a bottle. And again, it was our college boys, truly amateur athletes. (And they still won, wink-wink).

But not three losses, to teams like Puerto Rico, and Argentina... Granted, both teams had talent, but...these were our professionals!?

The USA team has the best basketball talent and play in the world, right?

Of course I'm right.

And let me explain why.

The reasons are historical, cultural, economical, and emotional.

Oh, yes, and biological and physical.

The history of our country is complex and grandiose and innovative and tragic all at once.

It involves persecution and freedom, religious liberty and intolerance, genocide and flourishing of population, bravery and hypocrisy, love of land  and loss of life, sacrifice and horror. 

We are a new breed of humans. We tend to be stronger than others: bigger, stronger, faster. And in many cases, more extreme, thus leading to our greatness as a people.

The Declaration of Independence, Constitution and all our laws and endeavors since document this. Within our homeland, we celebrate the best and the worst that humanity has to offer.

And basketball represents this.

Why?

By the time our country came into being, we Americans were a very mixed lot of Europeans, Africans, Asians and native Americans.

The majority of the African Americans were enslaved, and a great number of them were cross bred like cattle. Bigger, stronger laborers. I don't know what the numbers break down as, but it is safe to declare that the strongest survived, and often families were not arranged by choice of individual.

Meanwhile, European descendants learned hardiness and fortitude by colonizing and settling the new lands across North America, many dying in the process and leading to a dramatic strengthening of the gene pool, as ascribed by Darwin and other evolutionists. Some diseases and hardships make us survivors more resistant, and superior in genes and nature.

Instinct and nurture breed better competition to survive and thrive.

American Indians went through their own population control, devastating as it was. And Latinos became a hardier lot than their ancestors, as I assume the numbers of Asians who migrated here as well.

And it has been 100 years since the Emancipation Proclamation and we have been intermixing to a large degree before and since.

Evidence Tiger Woods. He is America.

As is the basketball team.

The fact that this teams happens to be all African-American is in actuality an abnormality. Usually we have a few Euro-American (i.e. white) players on the dream team, but the point of this team and this country is that we reward the best players no matter their race or creed.

This is America, and we look past skin color, or at least we try to, in order to achieve the best and most likely results of victory.

We are a color blind people when it comes to success.

We are Americans, first and foremost.

And we take our lumps. And get bloodied. And we improve.

We lost a few battles in the War of Independence over two centuries ago. To the British and the Hessians.

And then it got serious.

Same thing with the American Indians, and the Mexicans and the Southern Confederacy.

Oh, then those former opponents and enemies became our close allies and in some cases our staunchest supporters.

Do you sense a pattern here?

The 20th century came and went, and there were two trends that I will posit:

A)The United States showed the world that it will not back down to anyone and it will save the world from tyrannies and oppressors and crazy notioned ideologies that don't work, and B) the fact that the US was dominant in the game of hoops.

We got the poorest of the poor in our land to integrate with the rest, to prove that they are one team who excel on this stage.

Take THAT Soviet complex of cyborg automatons. Mao? Whatcha got over there that us Western capitalists don't know about already? A thing called "control"? Totalitarianism? Does that system cut the mustard? Does it produce enough mustard?

Good luck really beating our pick-up players who hustle for fun, hailing from the tough streets, and I include French Lick, po dunk Indiana as part of those streets...

And the truly great ones end up being celebrities and multi-millionaires...No matter how poor they grew up. Again, see Larry Bird...Or any number of ballers from urban jungles...Isaih Thomas, Jason Kidd, ...

So, we are trying to hold on to our deserved self esteem as United States citizens.

We have a right to be proud and faithful if we continue to sacrifice and strive as our forefathers did.

They sweat, bled and died. And sometimes it was awful, and even mistaken, war after terrible war, depression and poverty overwhelming our youth and desperate families.

Extremes of the American dream.

But we came together as one people.

We beat the Fascists and ethnic racists of Germany and Japan while our own national passtime was still not integrated to our own men.

But we eventually came together as one.

And we still do today.

And our players, from all socio-economic stations and backgrounds, give up a part of their professional career to show the world what we all know:

USA basketball is the best.

Spain today was OK. Just not good enough.

Lithuanunia, Croatia, and Australia still undefeated?

Argentina is the defending Olympic champ? Greece has some tough Euro victors?

Hey, let me reassure you, as I have been reassured today.

The USA redeem team is where it's supposed to be.

Poised to prove that they are the best.

Lebron.

Kobe.

Dwyane.

Chris P.

Carmelo.

Dwight.

Chris B.

Deron.

Tayshawn.

Carlos.

Michael.

Oh, yeah, and the guy who has never lost an Olympic match, who just scored his first basket ( I believe it was his first attempt) in today's trouncing of Spain?

Jason.

He's old. He doesn't shoot that well. But he's American. And he knows how to win. And like most Americans, he will capitalize on the strengths of the team to get the necessary result.

He is willing to subdue his own ego and selfish notions to achieve the American dream. He follows the directions and rigors of one of the world's best coaches of all time. Coach K, who was coached by former Olympic coach, Bob Knight at West Point.

A person and place that has known wins, losses and sacrifices.

And he, Jason Kidd, like his land, is the best.

Rest assured. We are being redeemed, Americans.

Clinch

I'm not Joshin': We need to defeat Kenya by Chasing that Steeple!

Ok, you are one of those sad sacks that is burned out by all the commercialism of the Olympics, the cheating, the drugs, the egos...

GET OVER IT.

There is much more purity in these events than you would like to admit.

And one of the American underdogs that I am pulling for? Josh McAdams! Yes, I said Josh McAdams!

He only qualified by placing third for the USA team, but maybe he has what it takes.

Maybe he got interested in the steeplechase more after living in Thailand for two years (here is a link about him if you care: Read the full story here ), a land where some of their celebrations include dowsing everyone in sight with water.

Look it up by Wikipedia! I dare you. "Thailand Water Festival".

But Thailand is not my worry when it comes to the 3,000 meter steeple chase.

Kenya is.

Why? Because since forever (1984 to be exact, that would be Los Angeles, without the Communists and Carl Lewis) a Kenyan has won this event EVERY single time.

1984: Julius Korir in 8:11.8

1988: Julius Kariuki in 8:05.51, and Olympic Record

1992: Matthew Birir in 8:08.84

1996: Joseph Keter in 8:07.12

2000: Reuben Kosgei in 8:21.43

and 2004, I will let you figure it out. But trust me, he's Kenyan. And the time is not too killer. Suggest room for hope, no?

Is this coincidental with presumptive candidate Barack Obama? His dad and all?

Who knows?

All I know is, I am pulling for this guy. Josh. And in the fall? John probably has my vote. But that is incidental.

So wat tee kop!

Clinch

Missing Out on the Chance

Some 600 plus Chinese athletes have qualified to compete in these Beijing Olympics. 2008.

And it's an elite few. Don't you think.

One in 2 million, as it were.

Almost 600 are representing the United States.

One in a half a million.

India? Many less. One in 5 million? Twenty million?

How about population giants like Brazil and B@ngladesh, or Pakistan and Mexico? Nigeria?

Many people never get a chance to particpate in an event like this.

Do't miss it.

Don't miss out.

Don't miss my last story.

Clinch

Olympic Dreams, Memories and Applications

Where were you when you remember the first Olympics in your life? Did they inspire and excite you? Did they make you think of your potentials and dreams?

Did the Olympics ever put you in a place of nationalism or internationalism that has continued to play a part of your own identity, your station as a human, your position on the planet?

Have the Olympics made you a more complete individual and human being?

If not, I ask you to consider the following things about the international competition we know as the Olympics Games. The Olympiad, begun modernly the year my mother's parents were born, 1896.

In 1976 I was big five year old, and my family took a long road trip from southern Indiana through eastern Canada and the northeast United States. We took a stop in Montreal and thereabouts, and I remember seeing Olympic Stadium and the site of the events that year.

Watching the ceremonies and competitions on television was an introduction to a bigger world. Of course, everything was pretty big back then, because I wasn't that big a five year old.

Who is?

Bruce Jenner was bigger than life. Decathlete extraordinnaire and American hero. He was Captain America embodied.

Wheaties box legend.

I later saw a movie about him as a child, he had bed wetting problems and he would race home to hide his bed sheets hanging outside the window so his fellow classmates wouldn't see them from the bus.

I had bed wetting problems till I was six or seven years old. At the end of the show about this future world champion, little Bruce hides out in a furniture store and falls asleep on a big bed. It remains dry to the amazement of the parents when he is found the next morning.

He needed a bigger bed.

And perhaps that is what we all need.

How big a bed do we sleep in?

Our country celebrated its 200th birthday that year of the Montreal Summer Olympics.

It has been another 32 since then, and we should know and feel as well as at any time in our national history that we share this planet with many others. And sports are a measure of our unitedness and our greatness, our shared humanity and achievement as a race.

Oil and investments, stocks and energy, food prices and home rentals and purchases; whether we are middle class American citizens or Chinese peasants, Indian corporate gurus or starving Africans, we all are represented through the majesty, spectacle, lifelong effort and sheer determination of the athletes and delegations involved.

1980 was affected by politics. We pulled out of Moscow, which affected Los Angeles in 1984. Things related to the bogey man Osama were getting going back then. But it didn't stop the household names of Carl Lewis and Mary Lou Retton from arriving on the scene.

1988 and Seoul was good, but it was tainted by Ben Johnson being doped.

1992 was great in Barcelona, Spain. USA Basketball became a novelty of domination.

1996 was good in Atlanta, mired by a bombing and the Richard Jewell fiasco. On a personal note, a high school associate that I had a crush on back when won the silver in rowing.

That was a nice touch for me as a guy half way through his twenties, struggling to make a life for myself. Dedication and perspiration can lead to fame and glory. Even to a girl from my neighborhood. But more importantly, hard work and a dream, a goal of destiny may lead to something far more real: accomplishment.

Michael Johnson? Wow.

2000 was very cool in Sydney, Australia. Kathy Freeman was a huge symbol of what humanity can mean to us. Aborigines became a more accepted part of that great land, and thus to the world.

2004 finally made it back to "Hellas" (Greece), the impetus of it all. It was 108 years since the modern restoration of the games, and it was a fitting return.

So here we are in the throes of 2008. Huge gas prices and fires and floods and earhtquakes and typhoons and droughts and wars and extremism and mortgage woes and stock insecurity...

But somehow the Beijing games will show that we have more to hope and dream for than to fear.

Right?

World War War 1 ended the hopes of 1916.

The Second World War knocked out two, 1940 and 1944. 1972 was blighted by the terrorist attack in Munich.

But we must keep striving.

Keep moving, running, swimming, jumping, bouncing, hurling, rowing, twisting, and working as a team, living for the chance, the moment, the culmination and the process...

For the dream.

We live in a big bed.

And there is no reason to fear.

Celebrate the Olympics and its competitors, from first to last, from biggest to smallest.

Celebrate the world.

Celebrate yourself.

Enjoy the best of yourself and humanity reflected in these games.

Do you remember the first time you saw the Olympics? I hope the child in you looks for those moments again. Because they are real and meaningful.

Victory and defeat, life on a stage of grand proportions, all signified by hidden toil and strife.

The Olympics.

Ain't nothing better.

Clinch