“Well," said Pooh, "what I like best,"
and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very
good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was
better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called.”
I LOOOOOVVVVVVEEEEEE the Olypmics. I don’t even think I can
express strongly enough just how much. More than Winnie the Pooh loves honey.
I love the action, the friendly competition, the drive, the
inspiring stories, the international stage on which this all takes place, and
the freedom I have to be as patriotic for any country that I want to be. A long
time ago I told someone that in the summer games I cheer for the USA and in the
winter ones for Austria, but the truth is that my heart is much more of a hodgepodge
that than. Of course when it comes to skiing, I’m rooting for a podium that
would include gold for Austria, silver for the USA, and bronze for Austria. In
gymnastics, it’s USA, all the way. When it came to pingpong two years ago, I
was hoping quite badly Taiwan would score a medal, and thus become more
recognized again. Yesterday, amazingly, I found myself hoping Germany would score
high in pairs ice dancing – not knowing they were never expected to.
But it’s okay. It’s the Olympics! I’m allowed to be
schizophrenic in my cheering.
[Hang on. Pause. Matthias Mayer is on.] Okay, hand-wringing
over. He is in the lead! Whew.
I love the Olympics because they represent that Winnie-the-Pooh anticipation, the potential of what could be. They're made up of dreams and possibilities,
of utter pleasure, and I get to partake and watch the world's players unfurl the scene. The
Olympics bring together the best, top athletes who represent so
much more to me than sports – the willingness to leave their homeland to be
quasi “ambassadors” and hopefully come home with the prize. Mini missionaries?
No, I won’t try to spiritualize this. I’ll just continue to soak in the atmosphere of international pride combined with congeniality and eat my honey.
