Watching the Olympics often brought me to tears. Watching supreme human achievement is tremendously moving and all my life I thought only artists could move me so. But watching the majesty and beauty of the gymnasts, swimmers and divers, coupled with my knowledge of the training they go through and the dedication they need, kept moving me deeply just like when I see a magnificent artistic creation. And watching their a performances along with 90,000 people live and millions world-wide in such stunning architectural made it all the more powerful for me—and add to that our feelings for the country of the athlete, music sometimes and the often commentary of broadcasters and their guest specialists. Watching the Olympics was every bit as emotionally fulfilling as seeing a glorious opera or dance performance or as spending an afternoon cruising the corridors of L’Hermitage, the Louvre or the Uffitzi.
It surprised me to find myself so attracted to the Olympics, but having time on my hands to watch it (being semi-retired) allowed me to witness many stupefying achievements in which I saw such beauty of form and movement. Seeing the pride of the Chinese people moved me, as did the achievements of U.S. swimmer, Michael Phelps. Watching the Belgian women’s high jumper win gold over her stunningly beautiful and graceful challenger is something I will never forget. This beautiful gazelle with her weird strides leading up to the bar, would vault over the bar on her back with such seeming effortless grace and with giant spectacles bound to her head. And then, a gleaming, beaming statue of pure glee, she would punch the air and walk off the foam and onto the field to be wrapped in her nation’s flag. Only on TV could this drama invoke my emotions because it showed me the athletes’ faces up close. And only on TV in slow motion could I see the beauty of the form of the divers and gymnasts.
The blonde Australian diver (male) who won the gold for platform diving competition for 10-meter dives also moved me to tears. I identified with him because he was weeping in victory. I was often described as “sensitive” when at school, and sensitivity was treated as a problem. So when I watched that diver, unable to stop his tears after winning the gold medal, I felt I knew exactly who he was and he made me proud of us both for being sensitive and showing our emotions. His last dive was an exalted achievement for all of us who saw it.
There was beauty everywhere. On the faces of the athletes, in their national and competitive costumes, but most of all, in the Bird’s Nest Stadium, the Aqua Cube, and the opening and closing ceremonies. It was a superhuman achievement that I loved—and please, let’s leave aside the politics and judgments for two weeks, and share in the pride and joy of the average Chinese citizen who took such pride in hosting the world. The runner igniting the torch, the footprints on the banner, the costumes, and the synchronization of the performers, the lights, the digital imagery, and the flying performers—it was truly and spectacularly overwhelming!
This was, for me, a broadcast not unlike the millennium broadcast that involved almost the whole world. These spectacular and artful national events—be it the Olympics or the Millennium Concert—bring us together in a way that is good for our collective global soul. We are reminded on our humanity and of our link to those thousands of performers on the Bird’s Nest Floor, each one radiating such pride in their country (as we will in two years).
And Adam Van Koeverden, great on you sir! How could I, living in Vancouver, not get behind this accomplished young athlete? When he came in eighth in a race we hoped he would win, he must have felt awful. And he had to face the cameras while journalists from all over Canada asked him how he lost a race we expected him to win. I wanted to shout out at the interviewer to “Shut up!” I wanted the interviewer to just talk about how proud we were of a man who worked hard to represent us and did his best. The Grace Under Fire Award goes to Adam van Koeverden (as it has in the past to Sylvie Frechette when a judge’s error stripped her of her gold medal).
We joke about how polite we are in Canada. How “After you” we all are. Perhaps for us it is not so much about winning, but about being a participant. We should take pride in having people strong, talented and fast enough to compete whether they win or lose. But because we do like winning, take joy and pride in the winners of all nations, not just our own. There was a wealth of beautiful stories told through the images of the games and the athletes that touched our hearts—just like great art does.
The smiles of the athletes betrayed years of focused hard work and dedication that few of us can do. Sports and the arts are not so far apart as I thought all my life; the love of excellence and the sublime transcends disciplinary prejudices What spectacular games those were in China!
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