Letter from the editor

Every four year, five rings of fun

It is one of my few redeemable qualities that I do not watch much television. With no cable, only two channels emerge from the static, and I would guess I have watched no more than an hour or two of the tube in my house for the last year.

But over the weekend the finest event in the sporting world began — the Summer Olympics — and I was positioning my $5 antenna just-so in order for NBC to beam their tape-delayed coverage of it all to my living room.

The Olympics, especially the summer games, represent a level of sport not found in any professional league around the world. No millionaire crybabies here (not many, anyway), just fiery-eyed athletes who have dedicated their lives in pursuit of personal and national glory.

Trite? Sure. Idealistic? Yep. But I'll be parked squarely in front of the out-dated box in my house for the next two weeks watching as much as I can.

With the glory and the drama, however, comes the every-four-years revelation that the majority of the athletes in the games are my age or younger. While Michael Phelps strives to become the greatest Olympian to ever live, I strive to avoid cleaning my bathroom. The comparison is not a flattering one.

How, I wonder, do these men and women, some not old enough to be high school seniors (and some Chinese gymnasts I wouldn't sell a PG-13 movie ticket to without ID) have the single-mindedness to excel on the world stage?

I don't know the answer, and regardless of their hard work, luck certainly must play a part.

Watching a segment about Phelp's mother during the broadcast, she mentioned she took him to a swim team to burn off some of his excessive energy. Within months his coach was talking about gold medals. What could have happened if she'd taken him to the YMCA basketball court instead?

I know one thing wouldn't have happened, America wouldn't have gotten to witness the Americans edge out the French in the 4x100 freestyle relay on Sunday night, possibly the most exciting sporting event I've ever seen.

In a world full of wars and recessions and all manner of atrocities — some of them taking place in the host country — it's a welcome respite for the drama to come in the pool or on the playing field.

In an imperfect world, the Olympics can show us flickers of perfection, which is why I'll be leaping from my couch with each close finish for the next two weeks, yelling into my television and hoping my countrymen can hear me.

—Alex Strickland