(Originally published Wednesday, September 3, 2008)
I had only caught segments of this year's 2008 Olympics, but it ignited the same flame of determination and spirit of excellence, just as it does each time I view an event of exceptional athleticism and artistry. I'm certainly grateful for the replays on cable, which allowed me to review each event of my choice as many times as necessary. My heart was pounding. I became so emotional, I was moved to tears. I was elated about the victories, but not just for my team. I marveled at the athletes' well-defined frames, feet of fire, and hearts of courage and good sportsmanship, or must I be politically correct by stating "sportspersonship?"
You know we really get kind of ridiculous with all this stuff. You're almost afraid to say anything for fear of offending somebody. Good grief!
At any rate, I am never short of being amazed at these Champions. All are extraordinary athletes/professionals. Although one has his picks going in, there always exists that element of surprise when some unexpected runner pulls up from behind the pack and stuns the world, and quite possibly himself, as he crosses the finish line to obtain the gold; a moment of glory. That's the moment for which we strive.
I suppose that whether it is in sports, entertainment, academics, politics or whatever profession one may pursue, there is absolutely nothing like it. It seems that you'd re-live all it took to get there, just for that once in a lifetime, unforgettable moment. I'm sure every athlete recalls all his childhood play that sparked his interest in a particular sport. I suspect they even have countless tales, which in retrospect would seem more comical than heroic in the context of the Olympics. I'm sure everyone has at least one memory.
Most of my childhood summer days were spent riding skates, skateboards, playing baseball and football in the street. We were restricted within a ten house (1 block) radius, yet we would often sneak around the corner to buy 10cent icicles (icees) of our favorite flavors: lemon, cherry and sour apple, being mine. On one side of the street we antagonized Christie, the awesomely vicious 12" terrier, who would run off of her porch to chase us down the sidewalk, as if she were really going to laud some vicious attack. However, we were afraid of her owner, who stood about 2 inches above Christie, and was an ill-tempered woman with a hooked arm like Captain Crook from Peter Pan. She never smiled but often hurled profanities at us for no reason at all. This odd couple lived further down the block and she detested our rambling through her bushes to retrieve our balls. It took almost 3 double dares to go near her porch. That little fierce poodle would alarm her by barking out of the window. The next thing you heard was "Get the ~!@$%^&* out of my ~!@$%^&* yard before I ~!@$%^&*. We were usually around the corner by that time. It was forbidden territory, and we tried to make our way back before someone told on us. We had several concerned, but one really annoying nosey, neighbor (God rest her soul). I can hear Mrs. M. stretching it out for my mom right now..."Yeah, honey, them kids was all the way down cross the main streets carryin' on. I seen 'em and tole 'em they betta stay their butts way from 'roun nat co-nah! (of course, pronounced "corner").
Some hot evenings we were still allowed out while the streetlights were on, as some adults were usually out watering lawn, conversing or just basking in our beautiful California breeze. As kids we did a little of everything-- hop scotch, jump rope, tree climbing and racing on our bare feet on the asphalt. I resigned from tackle football around 12 or 13 because I was becoming a lady and, although I was pretty strong, the guys were getting a little more difficult to handle for my puny little self. I didn't want to have to hurt anyone afterward, so I'd wait for tag football. Luckily for me, I wasn't the last one picked for any sport, but I was one of the first to bail whenever a baseball cracked a window. We had been warned all too often about playing with the hard ball, but who listened?
I remember running down a very long driveway to perfect my landing in the pole vault event. I could just hear the crowds cheering me on as I landed on an old mattress in the backyard, glancing up in the sky, as if to say, "I did it!" The barrier stood only about 3 ft. high, and I was already 5'7" at 11 years of age. I would imagine that shot putting would be similar to "chunking"? hmmm? Although most of us don't become Olympians, that's my childhood recollection to which we can all probably relate.
With my anecdote, I say "Live for your dreams." When all is settled, the crowds will have gone home and maybe even forgotten the names of the athletes that "wowed" them. Yet, those who participated in this year's Olympics will have the same reassurances of their undertakings. They weren't lucky. They deserved to be there and will always have a memory of an accomplishment that remains in their quietness that says, "I am of a Champion spirit." Indeed, they are the Champions who inspire.
I had only caught segments of this year's 2008 Olympics, but it ignited the same flame of determination and spirit of excellence, just as it does each time I view an event of exceptional athleticism and artistry. I'm certainly grateful for the replays on cable, which allowed me to review each event of my choice as many times as necessary. My heart was pounding. I became so emotional, I was moved to tears. I was elated about the victories, but not just for my team. I marveled at the athletes' well-defined frames, feet of fire, and hearts of courage and good sportsmanship, or must I be politically correct by stating "sportspersonship?"
You know we really get kind of ridiculous with all this stuff. You're almost afraid to say anything for fear of offending somebody. Good grief!At any rate, I am never short of being amazed at these Champions. All are extraordinary athletes/professionals. Although one has his picks going in, there always exists that element of surprise when some unexpected runner pulls up from behind the pack and stuns the world, and quite possibly himself, as he crosses the finish line to obtain the gold; a moment of glory. That's the moment for which we strive.
I suppose that whether it is in sports, entertainment, academics, politics or whatever profession one may pursue, there is absolutely nothing like it. It seems that you'd re-live all it took to get there, just for that once in a lifetime, unforgettable moment. I'm sure every athlete recalls all his childhood play that sparked his interest in a particular sport. I suspect they even have countless tales, which in retrospect would seem more comical than heroic in the context of the Olympics. I'm sure everyone has at least one memory.
Most of my childhood summer days were spent riding skates, skateboards, playing baseball and football in the street. We were restricted within a ten house (1 block) radius, yet we would often sneak around the corner to buy 10cent icicles (icees) of our favorite flavors: lemon, cherry and sour apple, being mine. On one side of the street we antagonized Christie, the awesomely vicious 12" terrier, who would run off of her porch to chase us down the sidewalk, as if she were really going to laud some vicious attack. However, we were afraid of her owner, who stood about 2 inches above Christie, and was an ill-tempered woman with a hooked arm like Captain Crook from Peter Pan. She never smiled but often hurled profanities at us for no reason at all. This odd couple lived further down the block and she detested our rambling through her bushes to retrieve our balls. It took almost 3 double dares to go near her porch. That little fierce poodle would alarm her by barking out of the window. The next thing you heard was "Get the ~!@$%^&* out of my ~!@$%^&* yard before I ~!@$%^&*. We were usually around the corner by that time. It was forbidden territory, and we tried to make our way back before someone told on us. We had several concerned, but one really annoying nosey, neighbor (God rest her soul). I can hear Mrs. M. stretching it out for my mom right now..."Yeah, honey, them kids was all the way down cross the main streets carryin' on. I seen 'em and tole 'em they betta stay their butts way from 'roun nat co-nah! (of course, pronounced "corner").
Some hot evenings we were still allowed out while the streetlights were on, as some adults were usually out watering lawn, conversing or just basking in our beautiful California breeze. As kids we did a little of everything-- hop scotch, jump rope, tree climbing and racing on our bare feet on the asphalt. I resigned from tackle football around 12 or 13 because I was becoming a lady and, although I was pretty strong, the guys were getting a little more difficult to handle for my puny little self. I didn't want to have to hurt anyone afterward, so I'd wait for tag football. Luckily for me, I wasn't the last one picked for any sport, but I was one of the first to bail whenever a baseball cracked a window. We had been warned all too often about playing with the hard ball, but who listened?
I remember running down a very long driveway to perfect my landing in the pole vault event. I could just hear the crowds cheering me on as I landed on an old mattress in the backyard, glancing up in the sky, as if to say, "I did it!" The barrier stood only about 3 ft. high, and I was already 5'7" at 11 years of age. I would imagine that shot putting would be similar to "chunking"? hmmm? Although most of us don't become Olympians, that's my childhood recollection to which we can all probably relate.
With my anecdote, I say "Live for your dreams." When all is settled, the crowds will have gone home and maybe even forgotten the names of the athletes that "wowed" them. Yet, those who participated in this year's Olympics will have the same reassurances of their undertakings. They weren't lucky. They deserved to be there and will always have a memory of an accomplishment that remains in their quietness that says, "I am of a Champion spirit." Indeed, they are the Champions who inspire.
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