If you watched the recent Sochi Winter Olympics, maybe you noticed that the talking heads seemed to think they were the story.
Oh, I know it’s not easy to report an event you know will be old news by the time it is rebroadcast in a different time zone where half the viewers already know who won.
So the commentators, many of them better known than the athletes they report on, put together profiles of superheroes, leading into their runs down the slopes or across the ice where they either vindicate those words or fall flat on their face. And if the latter happens, they face questions from incredulous network pontificators as to what went wrong that made them give less than their peak performance with the whole world looking on. How do you answer that when all you know is something malfunctioned at 88 miles per hour and you wound up with a faceful of ice?
Yeah, I know I represent one of those evil media types. But maybe that gives me even more reason to insist that this is why they play the games.
Olympic athletes, of course, are as finely tuned as any competitors in the world (indeed, most of them are professionals in their chosen endeavors).
But people, even professional athletes, are not machines. Sometimes when they are stretched to the limit, hamstrings give way or a triple flip doesn’t work. Or ice baked by brilliant sunshine doesn’t provide the right surface for a highly polished piece of wood or metal and sends it out of control.
That happens in team sports, too. Well-aimed 30-foot jumpers rim the basket and bounce out. A perfectly executed forward pass finds a wide receiver’s hands, then caroms away. The world’s fastest human zooms away from his world-class competitors, then feels a hamstring tightening up and catapults into the infield in agony.