The Olympics, a grand spectacle held every four years, promises a whirlwind of excitement and athletic prowess. But beneath the surface of this global celebration, lies a peculiar blend of the familiar and the baffling. We witness old sports presented in new ways, and new sports that leave us scratching our heads, wondering, ‘Is that even a sport?’ Take breakdancing, for instance. While popular at parties in the 80s, it’s a curious addition to the Olympic roster, prompting the question: how did athletes even discover this seemingly casual dance form?
As a spectator, I often find myself contemplating which Olympic event I would excel at. Jumping on a trampoline seems plausible, albeit with the risk of landing in a judge’s lap. Imagine the spectacle of me twisting through the air, only to end up in the handbag of a spectator! Marathon swimming, however, is a definite no-go, even on television. Watching anonymous athletes endlessly churn through water holds no appeal.
BMX racing, a new addition to the Games, requires some Googling for even the most avid sports fan. The concept, reminiscent of navigating Indian roads on a two-wheeler, fails to ignite any sense of excitement. The true gem of the Olympics, however, lies in the telecast itself. We witness random individuals performing random acts in random order, all punctuated by an avalanche of commercials. The U.S. reigns supreme in basketball, Cuba dominates boxing, and Eastern Europeans claim victory in wrestling. Gymnastics and athletics events hold a certain charm, but dressage? Even horses watching TV look confused.
The modern pentathlon, with its five events encompassing walking the dog, taking out the trash, fixing fences, rearranging books, and chasing down a plumber, possesses a unique, albeit absurd, appeal. The Olympics infuse us with a false sense of self-confidence, although some friends contend that the reverse is true. The incredible feats of athletes can induce feelings of existential despair.
After a period of intense Olympic viewing, we are greeted by the closing ceremony. It’s a bittersweet affair, much like the opening ceremony, only worse. For a while, we find ourselves breakdancing in the dining room, jumping over gates, and punching walls, mimicking the athletes we’ve just watched. The fantasies linger for a time, only to be tucked away for another four years, a period during which even the thought of running can trigger a hamstring injury.
So, the Olympics, while a celebration of athleticism, also presents a curious blend of the familiar, the bizarre, and the utterly absurd. It leaves us questioning the boundaries of sport, contemplating our own athletic potential, and ultimately, reminding us of the ephemeral nature of our own Olympic dreams.
