Ooh, after just writing the title for this blog post, I realized that it's pretty grandiose. But if I stumble and fall before I cross the blog-post-expectation finish line, this will simply serve to emphasize one of my points about the meaning of the Olympics -- assuming I can remember what it was.
The Paris Olympics are about halfway done. My wife and I watched the opening ceremony in its entirety. Well, until the ceremony reached the stadium, after which we lost interest.
I thought it was one of the best opening ceremonies ever. Creative, emotional, energetic. Having the athletes on boats was a stroke of genius. I'm always moved by so many nations coming together under a single banner: the Olympics.
As I recall, the athletes from Iran were on a boat just ahead of the boat that carried the Israeli athletes. Though their countries are mortal enemies politically and religiously, I'm confident that athletes from Iran and Israel would get along fine if they met during the Olympics.
It gave me hope to see the floating Parade of Nations. I realize that sports is a special case of global cooperation. But if the world can peacefully coexist on the field of athletic competition, it sure seems that one day we can bridge our political, religious, and cultural differences.
That's why John Lennon's Imagine was played during the opening ceremony, a song with great lyrics, including:
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...
A big reason why sports unites rather than divides is that there are agreed-upon rules for every Olympic event. If you can't follow the rules, you can't compete. Breaking the rules has consequences. A warning, a penalty, maybe even a forfeit of the match.
In part this was a dream of the United Nations, including the International Court of Justice. It still is to some extent, but I'm sorry to say that my country, the United States, is one of those that puts itself above the rule of international law. Which makes no sense, since the United States is pleased to follow international rules that govern our athletes in the Olympics.
People hate to see their favored team or athlete lose. They hate it even more when an officiating error seems to bend the rules unfairly. That happened to American tennis star Coco Gauff when she lost a match after a linesperson called a ball out while Gauff was about to swing at it, which made her mishit the ball, then the referee overruled the call and refused to replay the point.
This shows how life often isn't fair, or at least appears to be unfair, despite the title of one of my books that argued otherwise.
Further evidence of this abounds in the Olympics, as in all sporting events. However, I don't see this further evidence as pointing to life's unfairness, but to life's contingency, its unpredictable and chaotic nature. Meaning, large effects often follow from small causes. Very small, sometimes. This helps produce the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.
For me, the surfing competition showed this dramatically, which is taking place in Tahiti, at a notorious reef where large waves break with tremendous force in what soon turns into shallow water. Surfing is a unique Olympic sport in that the field of play, so to speak, is constantly shifting -- in line with Buddhist notions of life itself.
Two competitors have 30 minutes to catch waves, taking turns, basically. Depending on the ocean conditions, there might be a string, or set, of large high quality waves that will showcase the surfer's talents. Or, the competitors might have to wait, and wait, and wait for a decent wave.
I watched two surfers who were pretty evenly matched. Only a small difference separated their scores as the competition grew close to the 3o minute mark. The surfer who was behind hoped for a large wave to appear, as this was their only hope to get in the breaking "pipeline," pop out cleanly, and earn a good score from the judges.
But it wasn't a big wave day. The horn sounded signaling the end of the competition with the surfer behind never getting another chance. That's how sports, and life, often is. You do your best, but there are forces outside of your control that have the last say in how well you do.
Surfers, like skateboarders and athletes in many, if not most, other Olympic sports, love what they do. They'd be doing it even if fame and money didn't accompany their efforts. I liked watching two male surfers on a really big wave day catch giant wave after giant wave, smiling and laughing with each other as they paddled back out to get another wave.
An announcer, who I believe was a professional surfer himself, said that what the competitors would remember about this day wasn't whether they won or lost, but how great the surfing was. Similarly, I read that after a Japanese skateboarder pulled off a very difficult trick, giving him a gold medal, his competitors applauded him, since they love skateboarding more than they hate losing, and someone who advances the sport via a rarely or never seen trick -- that really pleases them.
I'm a competitive person. I don't like losing, whether it be an argument or an athletic competition (though my days as an avid club tennis player are far in my rear-view mirror). But I'm going to try to keep in mind that losing an argument to someone who makes better points than I'm capable of isn't anything to be ashamed of, but an opportunity to admire the skills of the other person.
The Olympics brings out the best in competitors. It also can bring out the best in us spectators, if we have the right attitude toward watching.
Oh, almost forgot to mention another memorable moment, the last minute or so of the bronze medal match between the United States and Australia women's rugby teams. Australia was ahead 14-7. The Americans were 85 yards away from the goal line. Things looked bleak for the USA team.
After a few passes that didn't result in much, if any, forward progress, the ball ended up in the hands of an American woman who was almost instantly in the grasp of an Australian player. But she managed to get loose, looked upfield, and saw open territory between her and the goal line.
She took off running. Nobody from the Australian team could catch her. I was worried she'd run out of steam, but she dived across the goal line untouched. The camera showed the joy of the American players and the shock of the Australian players.
They had the game won, seemingly. Until the game was lost. That's life. You just never know for sure what's going to happen next. Something horrible. Something wonderful. You just never know.
The Melbourne Olympics 1956 have produced a lot in my life.
Selected for Butterfly Tumpek- I had less than a minute
for 100 meter after training one year
2 x 2 and half hour per day.
Next Maharaji graciously did cancel the dutch participations because
of the russia/hungary invasion.
Apart from so many OBJECTIVE/subjective experiences in my life
HE prevented my to go on a pedestal which would have destroyed
most spiritual profit for this now 87 years old still active carcas.
It maked it easyer to quit Dr Phils "Inner Dialogue" later on
and replace it with the so necesary subjective Love towards allmost everything.
A lot of anger still to learn seeing Al Jazeera and TRT television ,
even CNN sometimes reporting 200 Doctors dead just for land grab.
Wish U all more silence
777
Tumpek at the time was the fastest stroke
but very intensive to do
It s like a Wiener Waltz, . . like the dolphines swimm
Wish there was just one video of it to find
I would pay a Grand for it
It s beautiful to see and to do, It s like a Song
But actually as with all creation the ugliest wins
which on top the normal free strike
- - seems they stand vertical - no elegance at all
But Miss Biles and all these beautiful bodies to see make it OK at the end
Posted by: 7.77 | August 08, 2024 at 01:26 AM