The Five-Ring Circus – Some Olympic Impressions

 

I managed to watch the Olympics on and off over the last couple of weeks, and came up with some observations (bearing in mind that, being one of the least athletic people on the planet, I have no “standing” to make comments):

1. The Olympics, although they are called “games”, seem more real, authentic, solid, and honorable than pretty much anything else that is happening in the world right now, particularly in politics and in the crushing load of propaganda that is imposed on the citizenry every hour of every day on pretty much every issue or subject. We are, it's said, living in a post-reality era – which is true, since everything is politicized (therefore subjective) and we can't take anything for granted, including much of what is happening (or seems to be happening) right in front of our eyes. Of course the Olympics are politicized to some extent as well, and always have been... but they are still ultimately about natural talent, discipline, practice, and coaching. While perhaps not “pure”, they are as close as we can reasonably expect anything to come. (And things have improved considerably since the Cold War era, when you could always count on those stone-faced Russian judges to boost the scores of Russian athletes, and perhaps shave a bit off American scores.)

2. Also noted, and not for the first time – every sport, and every event, has its ideal body type – and there is very little variation within a given sport or event. This is, of course, the result of a kind of natural selection – as practiced by coaches, athletic directors, and so on... and reinforced through competition, training, conditioning – diet and nutrition as well, surely. A person's natural genetic potential will, hopefully, lend itself to one or more athletic endeavors... but surely it can never be that anybody can become anything in the world of sports (although we have had some pretty amazing people who came close – Babe Didrikson Zaharias and Jim Thorpe come to mind). What's intriguing is the possibility that, by the time anyone gets to Olympic level, all the DNA factors have been sorted out, and then it becomes purely a matter of conditioning, discipline, coaching, and raw determination. (And of course we can't discount a bit of randomness either. When outcomes are determined down to the hundredth of a second, or a centimeter, it would be a bit strained to claim that the winner was a significantly better athlete than the runner-up – especially when you could run the same event the next day and possibly get the opposite result.)

3. On the lighter side – I noticed that the later I stayed up to watch Olympic events, the more likely I was to see an event, or a sport, that I never knew even existed. (Cue expression of incredulity: “THAT's an Olympic event??”) I fully expect, some time in the future, to see sack races and three-legged races included (maybe not for medals, but at least for “demonstration”). (Well, why not? At least those are events I actually competed in in grade school, on “field day” – my introduction to abysmal failure, by the way.)

4. It should have been a lesson in geography as well. I've heard of all the countries that attended, but I'll bet many people haven't. There are some interesting entries way down on the participation list that should send people running to their atlas. (And yes, I had to look up ROC. My first thought was Republic of China, but that's out of fashion.)

5. And by the way, how often do you get to hear the national anthem of Fiji? Or Qatar? Don't tell me that isn't fun.

6. And then we have this phenomenon of athletes who weren't born in a given country, and didn't grow up there, winding up on their Olympic team. How long has this been going on? I don't remember that in the old days. Back then, everyone on the Swedish team had to be a Swede... and everyone on the Botswana team had to be Botswanian... etc. I guess it's kind of like the draft system in the NFL – it's a way to level the playing field a bit. But still... (I can see San Marino becoming an ice hockey powerhouse. Hey, if Jamaica can do bobsledding... )

7. And speaking of which, I loved the way the commentators for the women's basketball game between the U.S. and Japan were going on and on about the “size” issue. Well duh! But even so, the Japanese managed to get to the gold medal round which means they had to beat plenty of other tall people. (Even so, I spotted what appeared to be some “ringers” on the Japanese team. See previous item.)

8. The most enjoyable, i.e. least boring, event in my book: Skateboarding (Uh-huh, I know, it's not a classic – Avery Brundage would turn over in his grave. Well, tough!)

9. Most boring: Water polo (mostly a lot of splashing, and headgear that makes them look like extras from a cheesy 1950s sci-fi movie)

10. Most riveting: Shot put. Yes! The sight of those incredible hulks whirling around that ring before letting fly was mesmerizing.

11. Most gratifying: Everyone took the mask mandate in stride.

12. Second most gratifying: I didn't see any medal award “demonstrations”. Maybe I missed it, or just maybe the activists weren't quite up to medal level.

13. Also noted – the absolute perfection (at least to the untrained eye) of all the venues and the surrounding area. I didn't get the impression, as I have with some of the more “third world” sites, that the Olympic Village was also a Potemkin Village.

14. And thank goodness the summer Olympics can all happen in the same area – unlike the winter Olympics where some events can be 100 miles from other events, and where so much depends on the weather. (I do have to give the women runners credit for racing in the pouring rain. That had to be a good test of traction (shoes vs. track surface).)

The Unbearable Bigness of Ben

I guess to get a point across to the baseline populace of Pittsburgh, especially those who are of the “sports fan” persuasion, any attempt at subtlety is considered a gigantic waste of time. Hence, we have these tidbits, all from a single article by a local reporter concerning Ben Roethlisberger's latest off-field misadventure:

o “... Roethlisberger and his posse of beefy buddies...”
o “... those big ol' boys...”
o “... several very large males...”
o “... seven to nine other large men...”
o “... a group of big guys...”
o “They were all big.”
o “We call them the 'linemen' because they're so big.”

Has anyone gotten the point yet? We're talking big here. Massive, huge. The kind of guys who could darken the door of a dirigible hangar, or swallow Fat Albert in one gulp. I'm talking big. Like, if you're anywhere in the building when these guys walk in, you think an earthquake has struck, and immediately start filling out FEMA paperwork for disaster assistance.

And of course, in this swirling sea of bigness... this maelstrom of hugeness... Big Ben is the Biggest of the Big. He is large and in charge. He is the Sun, and all the other barons of bigness circle around him in orbits of various shapes and sizes. And of course, generously peppered through this solar system of size are all the hangers-on, toadies, gofers, groupies, bimbos, and assorted parasites, barnacles, and leeches of both sexes – think of an entire world made up of Macy's parade-sized floats of the Chippendale men, plus a countless number of Kato Kaelins. And all they want is to touch the hem of his garment, and be photographed with him. (Well, some of them might want a bit more, but...) In fact, think any tribal chief, his ministers, and the rabble. Think Hitler and his entourage... or Stalin and his underlings standing atop Lenin's tomb. This is the shape, in other words, of the most primitive of human societies – the strong man, his goons, and everyone else – a model that is still alive and well in sub-Saharan Africa as well as in criminal gangs... not to mention Wall Street and politics. It prospers, in other words, when the people involved have nothing better to offer, and nothing better to hope for – either because they have given up hoping for anything more, or they don't realize there _is_ anything more.

And really, there is nothing to object to in this model of social organization, as long as it's understood that it is, indeed, the most primitive of them all. You could go back 10,000 years in human history and scenes like Big Ben's barhopping would be as familiar then as they are now. The amazing thing is how many people still consider this the epitome of social activity and “fun” (of both the direct and vicarious sorts). And it's also not uncommon for people with little or no power – that would be most of us – latching on to people with considerable power... or at least the illusion of power... the “charisma” of power, if you will. Perfectly understandable – just simple human nature, right?

But I'm wondering if the writer of the above-referenced article is really as much in awe of Big Ben's bigness, and the bigness of his disciples, as the typical sports fan is... or if he's trying to weave a skillful satire, or lampoon, of this particular fetish. Does he consider Ben & Co. to be truly awe-inspiring and admirable, or a bunch of dumb jocks and fools who don't know how to stay out of trouble? It's hard to say... and it's even harder to say what the aggregate attitude about all of this is among Big Ben's fans. If it's true that he can do no wrong, then his accuser is just another rent-seeking bimbo. But if he is flawed enough to have done what he's accused of, then their idol has feet of clay, and it will be hard to forget all that the next time he takes the field -- “if” he takes the field again, of course. I imagine the main topic of discussion among Steelers management these days is, do we cut our losses and wipe the slate clean and move on, leaving Big Ben to his own devices... or do we wait upon the turning of the wheel of justice? And of course the determining factor, as always, will be the impact on the bottom line. Is Ben more of a liability than an asset at this point? Has he gone the way of Tiger Woods? Because if he has, he'll be cut, fired, and exiled without mercy, even though the people who do the deed don't make one tenth of what he makes. But that's the paradox of power in the world today – it's correlated with wealth, but not synonymous with it... and it's correlated with bigness as well, but there's a limit to everything -- and for that we can all be thankful.