In 2001, before the 2002 Salt Lake Winter Olympics, Courtney became an Olympic torchbearer. She ran her "leg" on the streets of West Memphis, Arkansas, and it was a very special day for our family. Chevrolet sponsored the Torch Relay, so afterward the local dealership (owned by extended family) framed the newspaper account with her official torch picture to display in their showroom, along with a shadow box that held her torch. Eventually the dealership closed and Courtney acquired her torch. It is now displayed along with other sports memorabilia in her home's sports-themed pool room: a visible reminder of her personal connection with the Games.
I could hardly wait for the Summer Olympics to begin this summer of 2012. Though I love the summer sports best, the Olympic spirit is really what draws me, whether in the summer or winter games. I remember our thrills when our children played varsity sports in high school and college, and how my emotions swelled and practically burst out of me in moments of excitement. Multiply that uber-feeling times a million, and that's how the Olympics affect me. For two weeks every two years, I stay emotionally involved, ready to tear up at a moment's notice, just heart-filled with joy and sadness over the triumphs and failures of the mostly very young athletes. Patriotic pride (love of country) builds, and with it, empathy for the stories of other countries and their athletes.
I cry when I hear "Chariots of Fire" or the booming music of the Olympic theme song. I cry when an American stands atop the medal stand watching the Star-Spangled Banner slowly rise between two foreign flags. I cry when the underdog rises above himself and accomplishes far more than the expectations of coaches and audience and TV announcers, and when the favorite excels. I love the Olympics and the feelings it brings me. I love the way it unites our country in patriotism and common purpose.
And I love the stories. One of the TV announcers said, " ... the lasting impressions of the Olympics are not only of those who stand on top of the medal stands." The Olympic Games are not just about USA Dream Teams, or Michael Phelps breaking medal count records or even the beautiful girls who win gold in gymnastics and swimming. They touch my heart, but so do the unknowns - the one athlete from a tiny country who has no hope of any medal but is THERE anyway; the first time an athlete from a particular country wins in a particular event; the first medal a country has ever won; or stories about the way an athlete and his family sacrifice, how they endure hardship and injuries, yet triumph through the pain. These stories of accomplishment and success touch me: the beautiful back-stories of endurance and sacrifice just to get there. The athletes embody the Olympic spirit - they are "swifter, higher and stronger," yet they compete with sportsmanship and good will and inspirational respect for each other.
THEY inspire respect.
That's why I love it. That's why I watch obscure Olympic sports every two years that I'd never otherwise care about. And every two years - winter or summer - the sports world in all kinds of venues (as well as those uninvolved in the sports world) sits up and takes notice. And THEN it's not just about fame or fortune or simply the glory of winning ... it is much more and more powerful than that. It is the Olympic spirit!
It IS the Olympic Spirit! And the rest of us are mightily blessed.
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