Aside from two nights, we've been watching the Olympics every night now. And you know what? I'm really sick of Bode Miller. Is it un-American for me to say that? I know we're supposed to be cheering our own countrymen along and all, but frankly, I'm kind of glad Bode hasn't won't a thing in these Winter Games.
If you haven't been paying attention, well, Bode Miller was supposedly Team USA's best chance for winning gold in one of the Alpine Skiing events. Yet, his understated arrogance was grating. He had this cockiness to him that was subtle and irritating. So when he has repeatedly lost out on earning himself a medal of any color, I don't know...I just can't help but be glad about that. I know that being an Olympic athlete is supposed to take guts and determination, which is clearly something Miller has. But there is still the fact that these athletes will set role models. We'll see their faces plastered on various commercials for years to come. And when I want my children to model themselves after someone...Bode Miller doesn't come to mind.
Compare that to Apollo Ohno. Now he's a man who deserves applause. He's a man with self-respect, as well as respect for others. He demonstrates a level of humility and grace under pressure. Okay, so he didn't win the gold either. But I wanted him to, unlike Miller.
Where are the truly interesting stories in the Olympics? While watching the pairs Figure Skating competition, there were stories of hardship which humanized these people. It made them accessible to us common folk. It made them seem like real people striving to be the best against the hardest of times. Take, for instance, the pair where the man had ripped his Achilles. He deserved to make it up on that podium. Or the Chinese pairs under the direction of the coach who had been laughed at in the 1976 Olympics.
Perhaps it is because I'm not all that into watching sports...but the Olympics are still about people. It isn't about being the best, but being the underdog and making it through. Like Lindsay Kildow, who skied the women's downhill in extraordinary pain...so much that you could see it across her face. She didn't win a medal...but she won our hearts.
These are the people I want my children to take note of. To see that sometimes being the best means falling down and getting back up. It means facing hardship, but pushing through anyhow. Sometimes it means never reaching that ultimate dream, but having tried anyway.
It doesn't mean acting like you are the king of the hill, and only finishing two of the three races you enter because of your arrogance. Sorry, Mr. Miller. But your arrogance is just unbecoming. Not that you care, I'm sure.
