Let the Games Begin

The Olympics have begun, and, as happens every Olympiad, I begin to sound like the old man yelling, “You kids get off of my lawn—and I’m keeping your ball!” This time, the ranting began as I perused the list of so-called sports to be included in this incarnation of the quadrennial event.

When I was a kid, I watched every minute of the Olympics. There were a few hours of coverage every day and I cheered for and admired athletes of all countries. In my mind’s eye, I can still see Native-American Billy Mills sprinting from behind to win gold in 1964, Frenchman Jean-Claude Killy clinging to the edge of his skis in his all-out effort to win his third gold medal in 1968, Finnish distance runner Lasse Viren falling down in 1972, but getting up and winning with a new world record, and Russian Olga Korbut captivating the world with her charming smile and spectacular accomplishments in gymnastics.

This year, I’ll watch some of the Olympics, but it has definitely lost much of its allure for me. I’ll watch the track events, because that was my sport as an athlete and coach, and I’ll watch swimming, primarily to see a former student of mine, Alex Walsh, compete in the women’s 200 IM. Some people argue that the Olympics have become too political. That is certainly true, but politicization of the games is hardly a new phenomenon. The Nazis, the communists of the USSR and China, and the US have all used the games as propaganda to promote the superiority of their particular economic/political systems. Others argue that the Olympics have become too commercialized, too focused on making money for corporate sponsors. All true. For me, however, the most off-putting aspect of recent Olympic Games has been the proliferation of events seemingly designed for those who are not good enough to compete in traditional sports. Can’t ski very well? No problem; we’ll add snowboarding. Couldn’t make your high-school team in a traditional sport? Fine; we’ll invent beach volleyball and 3-on-3 basketball. To my mind, these sports have been added to the Olympic roster simply because the beer industry, which advertises heavily during those events, lobbied hard to have them added.

Not that I have a problem with beer. In fact, I prefer competing in sports that are generally played by people with a beer in one hand. I just don’t necessarily believe they belong in the Olympics. Curling certainly falls into this category, although it has been a part of the Olympics since 1924. For those who don’t recognize this sport by its name, it’s the one where one player slides a “rock” down the ice as his teammates try to maintain their balance while sweeping the ice frantically. If curling can be an Olympic sport, why not darts, or horseshoes, or pool, or pub trivia? Those games require about as much athletic talent, and the consumption of beer might actually enhance a player’s performance. For other athletes, particularly those who like to ingest stronger substances than beer, the Games offer skateboarding, snowboarding, and surfing. Those I’ve known who participate in those sports tend to perform best with a cloud of smoke wafting around their heads. For spectators who are already buzzed, the Olympics give you other options. You can watch synchronized swimming or diving and spend an hour blinking and wondering if you are seeing double. Finally, while watching rhythmic gymnastics, I have to wonder: in which of Dante’s circles of Hell is ribbon twirling considered a sport?

“So,” you might ask, “If you were king of the Olympics, what would the reconfigured Games  look like?” Well, first of all, there would be no events in which the results are determined solely by judges. Almost all of the great controversies from Olympic history involved decisions made by a subjective judging panel. Growing up in the Cold War years, I often heard something like, And the judges’ scores for Penelope’s dynamic performance: 9.6, 9.4, 9.8, . . . What! I can’t believe it! The Russian judge gives her a 4.3! Oh, the humanity!

In my perfect, imaginary world, we do away with all sports that involve judges. Those are usually artistic endeavors anyway, so why can’t we just appreciate them for their visual beauty and stop trying to turn them into competitive events? Gymnastics? Gone. Diving? Gone. Figure skating, ice dancing, surfing, freestyle skiing, equestrian events, snow or skate boarding, synchronized anything, competitive smiling (okay, I made that one up), all gone.

The other ones to be eliminated would be events using anything other than simple human muscle. There is so much money to be made today in sporting equipment that more scientists are working on those items than are trying to solve global warming. Look at running shoes for example. In the early Twentieth Century, some long-distance runners competed in heavy, military-style boots because they were sturdier than the athletic shoes then available. As recently as the 1970s, legendary Oregon track coach Bill Bowerman made rubber soles for running shoes on his wife’s waffle iron. Today, however, technology has leapt forward, and a controversy has flared over the use of the Nike Vaporfly, a high-tech shoe worn by record-setting distance runners. The shoes employ a polymer called “Pebax” which, according to an NPR piece, combines “with carbon fiber plates that work together to absorb and then return a percentage of the energy that the runner puts into them.” Most experts agree that these new shoes give the runners who wear them an advantage. The rub is that only athletes sponsored by Nike have access to this game-changing technology. Therefore, in my Olympics, all runners must compete barefoot. Events that depend completely on other space-age devices are omitted. That includes archery. I guess I still have this image in my mind of Robin Hood, carving a bow from a humble Yew tree, yet still being able to fire arrows long distances with great accuracy. In today’s event, archery bows look like something designed by Lockheed Martin for the War on Terror. They need to go. Because of the technology involved, sledding, cycling, tennis, canoeing, rowing, sailing, shooting, and the pole vault are all eliminated from my Olympics.

So what are we left with? Perhaps my Games would look much like the original Greek Olympics: a handful of hairy, sweaty guys, racing or wrestling each other in the nude.

On second thought, maybe we’d better keep things the way they are.

Born on the 4th of July

“A real, live nephew of my uncle Sam, born on the 4th of July”

            –George M. Cohan, “Yankee Doodle Dandy”

The U.S. was born on the 4th of July (1776). As reported in my last blog, there is some question about the accuracy of that statement, but most people accept it and celebrate our nation’s birth that day.

Giuseppe Garibaldi was born on the 4th of July (1807). Garibaldi was an Italian patriot who could accurately be called the “George Washington of Italy.”  He led a rag-tag army of “Red Shirts” to key victories in the war to unify Italy. After achieving unification in 1861 and helping to create the modern nation of Italy, he was a popular leader who could have ruled the new country as a dictator. He believed strongly in a republican form of government, however, and instead retired to the island of Caprera, refusing to accept any reward for his services. The true story is a bit more complicated than this, but one British historian referred to him as “the only wholly admirable figure in modern history.”

President Calvin Coolidge was born on the 4th of July (1872). As vice-president, he succeeded to the presidency following the death of Warren G. Harding in 1923. He was not very ambitious or successful as president, best known for his reticence in speaking and for sleeping twelve hours a day while in office. That record for napping was reportedly surpassed by Ronald Reagan in the 1980s.

Ron Kovic was born on the 4th of July (1946). In the 1960s, Kovic joined the marines right out of high school, filled with patriotism created by watching Hollywood films that made war look like a glorious endeavor. In Vietnam, however, he discovered that war was anything but glorious. Horribly wounded and crippled for life, he began to question America’s role in Southeast Asia and protested the war as a founding member of the group, Vietnam Veterans Against the War. He wrote a best-selling book about his experiences, and Tom Cruise was nominated for an Oscar for playing Kovic in the film Born on the Fourth of July. Oliver Stone won his second Academy Award for directing that 1989 film, and the “Captain Dan” character in Forest Gump was modeled in part on Kovic.

At the top of this article, I quoted George M. Cohan, the great American showman from the early 20th Century. Among the 300 songs that he authored, his best-known are patriotic anthems such as “Over There,” “You’re a Grand Old Flag,” and the aforementioned “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” The 1942 biographical film about him is also called Yankee Doodle Dandy, and features an irresistible, Oscar-winning performance by Jimmy Cagney. It’s one of those movies that I can recite by heart, but I still watch every time it comes up on television. Cohan was actually born on the third of July, but I guess he figured, “Why let the truth ruin a good song?”

In my last blog entry, I wrote about the relationship between Jefferson and Adams, and the remarkable circumstances concerning their deaths. They both died on July 4, 1826, the fiftieth anniversary of the U.S. By an amazing coincidence, on that same day, one of the greatest American song-writers was born.

Stephen C. Foster had a tragic life that lasted only 37 years. Repeatedly cheated by his managers and publishers, he died penniless in New York in 1864. In that short time, however, he created 200 of the most popular and long-lasting songs in American history.  “Oh Susanna,” “My Old Kentucky Home,” “Swanee River” (actually called “Old Folks at Home”), and “Camptown Races” (with the profound words, “Doo Dah, Doo Dah” in the chorus) were among his many songs. A century later, in 1942, US songwriters went on strike to fight for higher royalties. Radio stations were unable to play any songs currently covered by copywrite laws, so they turned back to the 19th Century for material that had fallen into public domain. Stephen Foster was re-discovered by a new audience, and his song, “I Dream of Jeanie with the Light-Brown Hair,” rose to number one on the “Hit Parade” charts. Because many of his songs were performed in blackface by white singers in the Minstrel Show tradition, his songs have fallen out of favor today. Still, you can hear his music, in one form or another, played in commercials, cartoons, and films every year.

In the early ’80s, I was watching the Kentucky Derby, and I was emotionally moved by the sight of 130,000 people singing “My Old Kentucky Home” before the race. I knew that Foster had written that song, and, in the days before Google, I headed to the library to learn more about him. My research led me to write a song about him. I recently stumbled on a version of the song I had recorded about twenty years ago, and I created a little film for it. The sound is a bit low, so you might have to turn the volume up. Play it on Independence Day and remember Stephen Foster, as well as the other people born on the 4th of July.

Click on the link: