Olympic Fever

Four years ago, when I first started law school, one of our professors asked us to fill out a questionnaire on the first day of class. I had no idea what this woman was about, or why she wanted the information, so my natural inclination to answer every question, “None of your damn business,” was very strong. I held out until the last question, where she asked, “What else is important for me to know about you?” I responded, “I am currently suffering from Olympic Fever. It’s pretty severe.”

Now, while part of that answer was just my way of telling her to mind her own bizzie, part of the answer was absolutely true. I DO suffer from Olympic Fever, and it IS pretty severe.

How do I love the Olympics? Let me count the ways:

1. Parade of Nations – I am fascinated by this stuff. While I’m especially intrigued by the made-up-sounding countries that have two athletes who look like they’re kept in a prison camp for the rest of the year and whose Olympic committee (all 30 of them) looks like they’d be more comfortable strong-arming innocent villagers out of the backs of Jeeps, I also like the Aussies. They always look really happy to be there.

2. Commentary – Let’s be clear here: I will watch ANY event of the Olympics. Skeet shooting? I am on it. Dressage? Oh, hell yes. And what I love the most, is that the commentators for these events make it seem like this is a regular gig for them. Their level of expertise is amazing. I am on the edge of my seat when they whisper, “What Hjerska is about to attempt is almost unheard of. Whacking the bobbercranzt at this altitude is a risky maneuver, but as you can see by the angle of her gerrenbahn, she’s already calculated the risk of overenture.” And then, when Hjerska makes the shot, I am losing my mind, jumping around and slapping people, shouting, “HOLY SHIT! Did you SEE that gerrenbahn?!?!” It is the best thing ever.

3. The bodies – Olympic athletes, by and large, have six packs as a matter of course. That is my kind of world.

4. The rivalries – Whether it is USA versus USSR, Phelps versus Thorpe, Kerrigan versus Harding, or Usain Bolt versus the rest of the world, I love, love, LOVE competition. In my world, everyone has a picture of their rival taped to their ceiling, their mirror, the door of their locker, and burned on the inside of their eyeballs. There is no tomorrow; this is the contest where they must win.

5. The thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat – Along with the rivalries, I love the drama of the Olympics in general. Professional weightlifters taking off their shoes after their final lift, Kerri Strug being carried off of the mat by Bela Karolyi, Lolo Jones sitting, in stunned disbelief on the track after tripping over a hurdle. So much of the Olympics is the impossible dream come true, but everyone can see their own struggles and disappointments in the athletes as well.

6. The heroes – I love Michael Phelps for more than his piranha-toothed underbite and scarily chiseled body. I love his will to dominate. Phelps, Apollo Ono, Usain Bolt, Michelle Kwan, Carl Lewis…every one of them a beautiful machine, made to do exactly what they are doing. The physical and athletic gifts are astounding, and the fighting spirit that each one of them has is inspiring. Especially on days when I can scarcely drag my fat ass off the couch to jog around the block.

7. Bud Greenspan – Look him up on Wikipedia. While the Olympics won’t be the same without him, his catalogue of past games will glue us to our couches on rainy Saturdays, reliving the memories, for years to come.