The Line

The world was watching.  Multitudes had gathered.  Countries waited breathlessly by their electronic media devices, hoping for the prize, cheering, jeering, laughing, crying.

In case you missed the memo, the Winter Olympics happened earlier this year.  In the spirit of competition, the world was gathered together, and the media brought it all to our doorstep.

It has not always been this way.  In 1894, when Baron Pierre de Coubertin first brought together representatives from 19 countries to form the International Olympic Committee, there were no podcasts or satellites. News tended to drift across the ocean at a relatively slow pace.  When the first games were held two years later in Athens, Greece, not much had changed in the coverage of news events.

The Olympics certainly benefited from advances in media coverage.  During the 1936 Games, news reels brought the sights and color of the games into theaters, and news accounts stated that a disgruntled Hitler snubbed Jesse Owens, a black distance runner from the US who won gold in his events.

Owens later stated that Hitler did not snub him; he just refused to shake Owens' hand at the award presentation.  Hitler did, however, leave the stadium before the presentation of an award to another black American athlete, Cornelius Johnson, who won gold for the high jump.

Print journalism, photo journalism, news reels and television cameras have all brought the games to us, making us a part of something bigger.

We have watched with joy and awe while our country's athletes have triumphed over hardship, pushed themselves to the limits of endurance, and gone where they barely dreamed they could go.

And we have mourned.

There have been deaths at the Olympics as well.  To date, there have been six athletes who have lost their lives either while training at or competing in the Olympics. The roll call of dead is thankfully short:

1.      1912 Sweden, Francisco Lazaro of Portugal, Marathon Runner, died of sun stroke and heart trouble.

2.      1960 Rome, Knut Jensen a Danish Cyclist, died after collapsing during a road race and fracturing his skull.

3.      1964 Innsbruck, Kazimierz Kay-Skrzypeski, British Luger, died while training on the Olympic course in Austria two weeks before the opening ceremony.

4.      1964 Innsbruck, Ross Milne, Australian Downhill Skier, died after hitting a tree when he flew off course.

5.       1992 Albertville, Nicolas Bochatay of Switzerland, Speed Skater, died after colliding with a snow grooming machine during a practice run.

6.      2010 Vancouver, Nodar Kumaritachvili of Georgia, Luger, died during a training run.

And we have known fear.

In 1972 Munich, Palestinian terrorists calling themselves Black September entered the Olympics village and took hostage eleven Israeli athletes, coaches and officials. The standoff lasted 19 hours.  When it ended, eleven hostages and all but three of the terrorists were dead.

The hostages were: Yossef Gutfreund, wrestling referee, Moshe Weinberg, wrestling coach, Yossef Romano, weightlifter, Kehat Shorr, shooting coach, Amitzur Shapira, athletics coach, Andre Spitzer, fencing Master, Yakov Springer, weightlifting judge, Eliezer Halfin, wrestler, Mark Slavin, wrestler, David Berger, weightlifter, and Ze'ev Friedman, weightlifter.  Other members of the Isreali team managed to escape out windows and through the gardens and parking garage.

But the Games rarely bring this kind of tragedy.  This year, we watched with chocked throats as Alexandre Bilodeau stood on the podium to receive his gold medal while the screams of his countrymen drowned out the announcer, his country's flag was raised in his honor, and the strains of "Oh, Canada" rose around him, and he became the first Canadian to win a gold medal on home soil.

The Olympic commercials have also drawn us in this year.  We have watched children dressed as Olympians parade into the Olympic stadium, be interviewed by newscasters, take their place on the ice, and their seat on the ski jump platform.  And we are reminded that, no matter how fast they go, how high they jump, how graceful they spin, they will always be someone's child.

I could have written this piece talking about how the spirit of competition crosses into our Second Life.  I could have talked about how we compete even here.  But I wanted to remind us that this world is a small one, and getting smaller all the time.  Our neighbors are as close as a mouse click away.  Let us take away from this time of competition a feeling of comradeship.

And let us all remember that no matter how far someone goes, no matter how high someone flies, no matter how fast someone spins, we are all someone's child.