In rowing there exists a collegiate tradition of awarding shirts to the winner of the race. After the boats are out of the water, and the competitors have caught their breath, the loser approaches the winner, finds the man who rowed opposite him, hands him his shirt and shakes his hand. It is a recognition that your foe has trained hard like you, has sacrificed like you, has wanted to win like you and that, on a another day, the result might be reversed. This tradition may seem ridiculous, but it demonstrates a respect for competition that was at times glaringly peculiar and at other times overtly absent from the Olympic events this year.
Marion Jones was a shining example of what was right with the Olympics. A brash young American, she aimed high and confidently set a goal of five gold medals. When you saw her run across the line winning that first gold medal, the joy in the eyes of this young woman was like that of a child running down the steps on Christmas. But she also showed great respect for the game when she knew that she was not going to win. After her last long jump attempt it was clear that she would get the bronze medal; long jump superstar Heike Drechsler had locked up the gold. But as the German veteran went up for her last jump, Marion Jones stood by the pit leading the cheer and clapping loudly for the woman who had ended her dream of five golds. That is sportsmanship, THAT is respecting the game and your competitor even when not winning hurts, that is what the Olympics are about.
The first time the Dream Team played it was exciting to watch. Magic, Michael and the boys showed the world who was number one. It was important to them; they played with the same intensity they would show in an NBA game. This year's team was an utter disappointment to the U.S. delegation as a whole. It doesn't matter what the margins of victory were, if other teams put up a great fight and the U.S. lost there would be no dishonor in that. The game against Lithuania exemplified everything that is wrong with the Olympics. The Lithuanian team played their hearts out against a seemingly indestructible opponent. The U.S. team sloppily played the game and at the end began to worry and turned it up, letting their better skill eventually win the game. Afterward, they ran around patting themselves on the back. The players were happy that they did not lose -- they were not happy to win. In the post game interviews one player said that, a win is a win, and that no one is going to care later how much we won by. There was no mention of the Lithuanian team. The U.S. guys didn't even shake their hands; they just congratulated each other. No reverence was paid to the game just played or the unlikely competitors who had almost won. Perhaps those Lithuanian basketball players don't have the same God-given talent, but they played a whole lot harder than anyone expected and would have paid any price for a gold medal. Kobe and Shaq decided that they would rather stay home and get ready for another NBA title than represent the United States in the greatest of all athletic experiences. This makes little sense to me, but the players who are on this team looked as though they feel the same way. Of course they are happy to win, but in my opinion they'd all probably trade it for an NBA championship. It is nice for the U.S. to dominate the medal count, but I'd rather compete while respecting the ideals of the game than to simply win. Which is a more glorious victory -- the U.S. baseball team's collection of amateurs and minor leaguers beating Cuban professionals or the basketball team going through the motions to win? If we had sent a group of indifferent pros to face the Soviets in Lake Placid rather than fresh-faced college kids, would we still think of it as "the miracle on ice?" It doesn't matter if we send pros or amateurs, but we should send people who value competing in the Olympics over everything else. There were several glaring examples of where sportsmanship fell short and I chose just one example, Maurice Green and teammates post 4x100 showboating are another of many.
The Olympics are based on traditions that go all the way back to ancient Greece. In those times men competed in sport in the same way as they fought in battle. When the great warriors Ajax and Hector fight a duel during the Trojan War in the Iliad, they are eventually pulled away by both sides as night falls. Afterwards, they offer up libations and celebrate TOGETHER. Both recognize that though they come from different places, they are more similar to each other than to many of their own countrymen. Elite athletes are today our last vestige of this warrior class long lost in history. The Olympics function on the assumption that it is nobler to defeat a man or woman on the athletic field than on the battlefield. For two weeks, the world sends forth the pride of their nations as ambassadors. These diplomats of sport often interact far more graciously than do the leaders of the nations they represent. Thousands of athletes from different nations are able to live together in the community of the Olympic Village. They are held together by the bond of sacrifice, of mutual respect, and of wearing their nations flag on their uniform. Unfortunately, the U.S. basketball team wouldn't appreciate that from their luxury hotel rooms far removed from the Olympic Village.
