Growing up with snow, you’d think I’d be a big fan of the Winter Olympics. Sure, I had my Dorothy Hamill wedge in the Seventies, but I’m a Summer Olympics fan. I squealed over Mark Spitz in 1972, Carl Lewis in 1984, and Flojo and Jackie Joyner-Kersee in 1988. And who can forget images of the Olympic torch being lit by archers in Barcelona, or Muhammad Ali in Atlanta?
My heart stopped in 1984 when Swiss marathon runner Gabriela Andersen-Scheiss, suffering from heat exhaustion, staggered into the Los Angeles Olympic stadium. Her torso awkwardly tilted to the side, her arms swinging lifelessly, her face grave and contorted, she waved off Olympic officials who offered her aid and a chance to end the pain. No — she wanted to finish. And finish she did, rounding the final lap in five, agonizing minutes, then collapsing at the finish line amid tears and cheers and the sense that we’d all witnessed something astonishing: the indomitability of the human spirit.
Regardless of whether it’s the Summer or Winter Olympics, I like the opening ceremonies, particularly the March of Nations. Seeing those faces from all over the globe helps me remember the world is really a smaller place than we think.
Our world is also a much altered place since the attacks of 9/11, and it’s comforting that our fellow countries have stepped up to support and celebrate the spirit of the United States. However — and this is not to downgrade the extraordinarily crushing blow that was 9/11 — when did the U.S. cross that line from introspective mourning to gross jingoism and claptrap patriotism? And why oh why did it have to infuse this year’s Winter Olympics opening ceremony?
Sure, Olympic host nations have license to celebrate their homeland, but this year’s ceremony, coupled with NBC’s heavy-handed presentation was so mired in red, white, and blue sentimentality, it would be embarrassing were it not so annoying and so not what the Olympics are supposed to be about.
Annoyance reached exasperation with the bumbling commentary by Bob Costas, Katie Couric, and the amiable, yet painfully archaic, Jim McKay, the “voice” of the Olympics. I won’t bore you with the cornier aspects of the event, except to say there was a kid on skates, clad in red woolens, who we were incessantly told was the child of light. “The child of hope, the child of innocence, the child of …” Couric and Costas felt necessary to explain, lest us dullards at home couldn’t decipher a visual metaphor from a kick in the head. Which, by the way, is what the evening’s commentary felt like.
I was touched that many athletes from around the world carried mini U.S. flags in addition to flags from their home nations during the parade of nations. But when the tattered flag pulled from the World Trade Center rubble was brought out, I couldn’t help but cringe. Of the thousands lost at the World Trade Center, many were citizens from other nations. This is rarely discussed and when it is, it soon becomes like that six degrees of separation game, where ultimately, the focus returns to the U.S. — our mourning, our pain, our loss.
The Olympics are an international event, not a U.S. event, no matter how much Fox commentators like Shepard Smith or John Gibson said so when the whole flap of whether the WTC flag would be included in the opening ceremony was first raised. Is NBC coverage going to follow suit with chest-beating patriotism? At this writing, it’s hard to tell as coverage of the games has just begun.
It’s no surprise that NBC (or any other network) would follow U.S. athletes more closely than others. Even so, that’s not what the Olympics are about. They are about the coming together of the world, even in the most turbulent times, to celebrate sport, the spectacle of personal victories, and the camaraderie of teamwork. Yes, I tear up when the U.S. national anthem is played for an athlete or team whose victory was hard won. But I worry that the ideals of the Olympics are being ignored by a nation that refuses to see its place in the world as anything other than from the top looking down. I worry that we’re forgetting the whole purpose of going to the Olympics to begin with, something that Gabriela Andersen-Scheiss showed us in 1984: that the desire to accomplish something bigger than ourselves is larger than patriotism.
To paraphrase singer Sting, the Russians love their children, too. I like to think the Olympics help us to remember that.
Fall Forecast
Information about fall prime time dramas is trickling in. Below are a few of the notable pilots on deck. Titles are subject to change before the fall season. Georgetown focuses on power brokers in DC (CBS), while FBI agents search for missing persons in Vanished (CBS). An idealistic young man becomes a U.S. senator in Mister Sterling (NBC). CBS hopes for success with a CSI spin-off about crime scene investigators in Miami.
Diversity is still a hot issue in Hollywood. If any of these cop shows appear in the fall, perhaps it means progress is being made: Miss Miami features a Latina cop as the lead character (NBC) while multiethnic cops are featured in Fast Lane (Fox).
Fox and the WB lead the way with fantasy and paranormal dramas. One of the most anticipated new series is Joss Whedon’s Firefly, a sci-fi drama set in outer space (Fox). Other Fox shows: Eastwick, about the teenage sons of witches, and Time Tunnel, about time traveling adventurers. The WB will offer a live action drama inspired by the Batman comics titled Birds of Prey, while the L. Frank Baum books are the source for Lost in Oz. On ABC, divine intervention and the Vatican-hired investigator who determines their validity is the theme of Miracles. In a curious return to the Western genre, the WB has plans for what’s described as a contemporary spin on The Lone Ranger.
As always, stay tuned.
This article appears in February 15 • 2002.