The Rio Olympics has come to a close. The triumphs and defeats, the national pride and rivalries, the sportsmanship and camaraderie will now begin to drift away from our consciousness. While we will certainly remember certain names and performances, there will also be many others we forget until they awaken our memories four years from now in Tokyo. In the meantime, there are some important takeaways from these Games, and thankfully, it seems one of them won’t be Zika. Here are a few final thoughts from an amazing Olympics.
Something that annoyed me to no end in this year’s Olympic Games was when the reporters would shove microphones in the faces of athletes right after completing a race. They can’t even breathe, much less offer coherent reflections on their performance. Give them a few minutes, for crying out loud! Sorry, on to my point. One of the things I appreciated when athletes were interviewed (this was particularly evident during the swimming competition) was their emphasis on achieving personal bests. There were several times when swimmers were asked about how they felt not winning the gold, and nearly all of them commented, with smiles on their faces, that they were pleased with their race because they surpassed their personal best times. They may not have won the ultimate prize, but they did the best of their capabilities at that time. This reminds me of John Wooden’s definition of success: “Success is peace of mind that is the direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.” Great life lesson. You may not always win, but you can always try to improve and be your own best. Thanks to our American swimmers and other athletes for reminding us of that.
It’s amazing how the Olympics can turn us very judgy, very quickly. Especially in subjective scoring sports like gymnastics or diving, it doesn’t take long for us think we’re experts in that event. I find myself shouting at my television, “She took a hop on the vault landing!” “His legs came apart on the high bar!” “He’s not vertical on entry into the water!” “Her routine had a higher degree of difficulty!” I don’t even know what I’m looking at half the time, but I suddenly think I could sit at the scoring table. And then I won’t think of any of this for four years. The Olympics does strange things to people.
Men swim a 1,500m event; women top out at 800m. Men participate in the ten-event Decathlon; women only do seven events in the Heptathlon. Men have to jump over higher hurdles than women do. Men do six events in their gymnastics routines; women only do four. The men’s tennis final allows for a best-of-five finish; women’s sets are only best-of-three. Men use a larger basketball than women do, which makes scoring more difficult. Men’s golf tees are farther back than women’s, making the course longer and more challenging. The men’s shot and discus are each roughly twice as heavy as they are for women. In our endless discussions of women’s equality, how come there is almost never a peep from women wanting to take on the same athletic challenges that men do?
We all saw the news reports both before and then throughout the Games of Rio’s horrendous conditions. HBO’s Real Sports did perhaps the most probing investigation. Brazil is one of the largest and most resource-rich nations on the planet; yet, much of the country is mired in poverty. This is a great example of how people and freedom, not land or materials, are the keys to wealth. Countries like Japan, Hong Kong, Switzerland, and others have almost no natural resources, yet are some of the wealthiest nations. Countries that embrace private property, rule of law, and an individualist ethos will always be more successful, regardless of resources. When Brazilian people decide to embrace those capitalistic principles, living conditions will improve. Until then, favelas on the hills, feces in the streets, and failed healthcare from government doctors will, sadly, not be going away anytime soon.
I was watching men’s volleyball one afternoon when the color commentator said something incredibly blunt and shrewd. He was describing working with young people at clinics or junior programs, and they would approach him and ask what they could do to be future Olympians. His response was, “Get different parents.” In other words, genes matter. This sounds brutally harsh, likely dashing the dreams of future athletes. But it’s true. If you are not 6’6” with a 40” vertical leap, you physically will not make it as an Olympic volleyball player, no matter how hard you try. While in my younger days I was a good athlete, I could train my entire life, and I would never be able to run like Usain Bolt, swim like Michael Phelps, or play basketball like Kevin Durant. I just don’t have the genetic material. Like Secretariat in horse racing, it appears some athletes were simply designed—by God, nature, or whatever you believe—to be excellent in that sport. Yes, all those stars have worked extremely hard to get to their respective levels of success. But they would not be there without their inherent physical attributes. This does not mean we should give up our goals. It just means we have to develop the wisdom to find the best goals for our individual capabilities. Continue working hard; just understand that we all have different potentials and limitations. Discovering those and facing them honestly usually starts the path to success. And if you're still mad, just blame your parents.
I’m waiting anxiously for certain politicians to come out with a speech telling Michael Phelps he needs to give half of his medals away to other swimmers. That Usain Bolt has, at a certain point, earned “enough” golds. That Allyson Felix and Diana Taurasi need to “pay their fair share” of medals to everyone else. That Katie Ledecky “didn’t build that” awe-inspiring 800m world record. For those politicians and social justice ideologues that are constantly angry at rich people, just remember that money is simply, as economist Walter Williams calls it, a “certificate of performance”—a gold medal (if you will) of being smart, talented, hard-working, and productive. You can’t simultaneously root for tremendous athletes to be victorious and also despise people in the non-athletic world for being victorious in business. My life is made better because Phelps has 23 golds, as I received the joy and excitement of watching him swim these last 16 years; just as my life is better off that Bill Gates is one of the world’s richest people, because I use his computer technology every day of my life. If there were no gold medals to pursue, Phelps wouldn’t race, and I wouldn’t watch. We all benefit from successful people. Don’t be a hypocrite; appreciate excellence wherever it occurs.
Greatest quote from the Games: "It's the closest I've come to throwing up at the end of a race. Everything hurt at the end, but I am happy that it hurt as it meant I pushed myself to the max."—Katie Ledecky, after winning gold in the 200m freestyle. How often do you push yourself in the classroom, at your job, or anywhere else so hard that it hurts? And you’re glad for the hurt? If you want higher grades, a raise at work, or respect from your peers, learn to embrace the pain. That’s what winners do.
Everyone has a story, and those who have achieved high levels of success usually have a pretty remarkable one. That’s why I love connecting sports with literature—stories are everywhere. My favorite story of this Olympics was that of South African 400m gold medalist sprinter Wayde Van Niekerk. He is part of an emerging generation of black South Africans that now have access to competition, as those like his mother (herself an Olympics-worthy athlete), amid the racism of his home nation, weren’t previously allowed to participate in high-level athletics. Van Niekerk is also coached by the grandmotherly Ans Botha, a white-haired 74 year old and one of the few women to coach male athletes, who took the young runner under her wing and developed him into a champion. And by the way, in his gold medal-winning race, Van Niekerk broke Michael Johnson’s world record, which had held for 17 years and many thought was unbeatable. The sprinter did his family, his coach, and his country proud in one of the most fantastic performances we’ve ever seen. That’s a story to remember.
Congrats to all of those tremendous athletes, and thank goodness the Games are over so I can finally get some sleep. Time to get ready for the second best international sports event—on to the Ryder Cup next month!
Something that annoyed me to no end in this year’s Olympic Games was when the reporters would shove microphones in the faces of athletes right after completing a race. They can’t even breathe, much less offer coherent reflections on their performance. Give them a few minutes, for crying out loud! Sorry, on to my point. One of the things I appreciated when athletes were interviewed (this was particularly evident during the swimming competition) was their emphasis on achieving personal bests. There were several times when swimmers were asked about how they felt not winning the gold, and nearly all of them commented, with smiles on their faces, that they were pleased with their race because they surpassed their personal best times. They may not have won the ultimate prize, but they did the best of their capabilities at that time. This reminds me of John Wooden’s definition of success: “Success is peace of mind that is the direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.” Great life lesson. You may not always win, but you can always try to improve and be your own best. Thanks to our American swimmers and other athletes for reminding us of that.
It’s amazing how the Olympics can turn us very judgy, very quickly. Especially in subjective scoring sports like gymnastics or diving, it doesn’t take long for us think we’re experts in that event. I find myself shouting at my television, “She took a hop on the vault landing!” “His legs came apart on the high bar!” “He’s not vertical on entry into the water!” “Her routine had a higher degree of difficulty!” I don’t even know what I’m looking at half the time, but I suddenly think I could sit at the scoring table. And then I won’t think of any of this for four years. The Olympics does strange things to people.
Men swim a 1,500m event; women top out at 800m. Men participate in the ten-event Decathlon; women only do seven events in the Heptathlon. Men have to jump over higher hurdles than women do. Men do six events in their gymnastics routines; women only do four. The men’s tennis final allows for a best-of-five finish; women’s sets are only best-of-three. Men use a larger basketball than women do, which makes scoring more difficult. Men’s golf tees are farther back than women’s, making the course longer and more challenging. The men’s shot and discus are each roughly twice as heavy as they are for women. In our endless discussions of women’s equality, how come there is almost never a peep from women wanting to take on the same athletic challenges that men do?
We all saw the news reports both before and then throughout the Games of Rio’s horrendous conditions. HBO’s Real Sports did perhaps the most probing investigation. Brazil is one of the largest and most resource-rich nations on the planet; yet, much of the country is mired in poverty. This is a great example of how people and freedom, not land or materials, are the keys to wealth. Countries like Japan, Hong Kong, Switzerland, and others have almost no natural resources, yet are some of the wealthiest nations. Countries that embrace private property, rule of law, and an individualist ethos will always be more successful, regardless of resources. When Brazilian people decide to embrace those capitalistic principles, living conditions will improve. Until then, favelas on the hills, feces in the streets, and failed healthcare from government doctors will, sadly, not be going away anytime soon.
I was watching men’s volleyball one afternoon when the color commentator said something incredibly blunt and shrewd. He was describing working with young people at clinics or junior programs, and they would approach him and ask what they could do to be future Olympians. His response was, “Get different parents.” In other words, genes matter. This sounds brutally harsh, likely dashing the dreams of future athletes. But it’s true. If you are not 6’6” with a 40” vertical leap, you physically will not make it as an Olympic volleyball player, no matter how hard you try. While in my younger days I was a good athlete, I could train my entire life, and I would never be able to run like Usain Bolt, swim like Michael Phelps, or play basketball like Kevin Durant. I just don’t have the genetic material. Like Secretariat in horse racing, it appears some athletes were simply designed—by God, nature, or whatever you believe—to be excellent in that sport. Yes, all those stars have worked extremely hard to get to their respective levels of success. But they would not be there without their inherent physical attributes. This does not mean we should give up our goals. It just means we have to develop the wisdom to find the best goals for our individual capabilities. Continue working hard; just understand that we all have different potentials and limitations. Discovering those and facing them honestly usually starts the path to success. And if you're still mad, just blame your parents.
I’m waiting anxiously for certain politicians to come out with a speech telling Michael Phelps he needs to give half of his medals away to other swimmers. That Usain Bolt has, at a certain point, earned “enough” golds. That Allyson Felix and Diana Taurasi need to “pay their fair share” of medals to everyone else. That Katie Ledecky “didn’t build that” awe-inspiring 800m world record. For those politicians and social justice ideologues that are constantly angry at rich people, just remember that money is simply, as economist Walter Williams calls it, a “certificate of performance”—a gold medal (if you will) of being smart, talented, hard-working, and productive. You can’t simultaneously root for tremendous athletes to be victorious and also despise people in the non-athletic world for being victorious in business. My life is made better because Phelps has 23 golds, as I received the joy and excitement of watching him swim these last 16 years; just as my life is better off that Bill Gates is one of the world’s richest people, because I use his computer technology every day of my life. If there were no gold medals to pursue, Phelps wouldn’t race, and I wouldn’t watch. We all benefit from successful people. Don’t be a hypocrite; appreciate excellence wherever it occurs.
Greatest quote from the Games: "It's the closest I've come to throwing up at the end of a race. Everything hurt at the end, but I am happy that it hurt as it meant I pushed myself to the max."—Katie Ledecky, after winning gold in the 200m freestyle. How often do you push yourself in the classroom, at your job, or anywhere else so hard that it hurts? And you’re glad for the hurt? If you want higher grades, a raise at work, or respect from your peers, learn to embrace the pain. That’s what winners do.
Everyone has a story, and those who have achieved high levels of success usually have a pretty remarkable one. That’s why I love connecting sports with literature—stories are everywhere. My favorite story of this Olympics was that of South African 400m gold medalist sprinter Wayde Van Niekerk. He is part of an emerging generation of black South Africans that now have access to competition, as those like his mother (herself an Olympics-worthy athlete), amid the racism of his home nation, weren’t previously allowed to participate in high-level athletics. Van Niekerk is also coached by the grandmotherly Ans Botha, a white-haired 74 year old and one of the few women to coach male athletes, who took the young runner under her wing and developed him into a champion. And by the way, in his gold medal-winning race, Van Niekerk broke Michael Johnson’s world record, which had held for 17 years and many thought was unbeatable. The sprinter did his family, his coach, and his country proud in one of the most fantastic performances we’ve ever seen. That’s a story to remember.
Congrats to all of those tremendous athletes, and thank goodness the Games are over so I can finally get some sleep. Time to get ready for the second best international sports event—on to the Ryder Cup next month!