As NBC broadcast the impressively choreographed opening ceremonies to the 29th Olympic Games in Beijing on August 8, most of the world’s attention was focused elsewhere on something graver than the spectacle of 400 shirtless men drumming in perfect harmony. Footage of Russian tanks rolling into Georgia disturbed the serenity of the ceremony and seemed to suggest a broader significance for the Olympics. In addition, China, as the host, was given an opportunity to overcome some of its difficult history. Despite the politics in the air around the Games, it seems to me that the Olympics are given too prominent a place on the international stage. The marketing for the Games wants to speak to the contrary, but I still don’t see the Games as anything more than it has ever been—a global athletic contest.
To elaborate on this point, I think it is worth comparing the Olympics to another huge sporting event that took place this summer. The European Football (soccer) Championships were held this past June, showcasing the top 16 national teams from that soccer-crazed continent. Despite the obvious absence of a US contingent, ESPN still broadcast the entire tournament live from its location in Austria and Switzerland, ostensibly because it provides such fascinating entertainment.
Although the Olympics and Euro Championships are quite clearly distinct types of sporting events, the contrast between the two highlights what I find so lamentable about the former. The Olympics arrive every four years with a new batch of superstars ready to hoist an entire nation on their shoulders and capture the world’s attention for two weeks. However, many athletes will only don their country’s uniform for one competition, and the sheer number of athletes for each country eschews any traditional notion of a “team.” To be fair, teams such as USA Basketball or repeat-champions in beach volleyball Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh embody and embrace the team mentality. Yet there clearly exists no concrete Team USA as we are often led to imagine it: fencers standing shoulder to shoulder with tennis players, synchronized divers next to marathoners and so on, all draped in American flags and belting the national anthem while tears trickle down their cheeks. I doubt even Bob Costas and the whole NBC crew believe in that abstract notion anymore.
In sharp contrast, every European national soccer team has forged a singular identity over the years. The players and coaches for the 16 competing nations live in the spotlight year-round, subject to endless media attention, scrutiny and the burden of unreasonably lofty expectations. This year Spain emerged victorious from the tournament, overcoming what can only be described in American sports terms as a Chicago Cubs-like propensity for failure. But the real joy was not in watching the smooth and consistent Spaniards finesse their way to glory; it was truly a marvel to behold the way in which each team characterized an entire nation.
ESPN ran ads prior to the tournament that alluded to this concept. The words “Engineered to Win” supplemented a montage of Germany’s past victories in one ad, while another read “Come Dance with the Portuguese,” highlighting the country’s predilection for style over substance. Yet the most telling ad was for the defending champions: “Greece is Back to Defend Their Cup—11 Million Strong.” In promoting the idea that Greece, not just the squad of eleven men on the field, is competing against the other top European nations, the ad illustrates the entire country’s investment in the outcome.
The ad also highlights one of the tournament’s finest facets—its parity. Greece won the tournament four years ago, to the general shock and dismay of the rest of Europe, but finished statistically dead last this time around. It is no exaggeration to say that every nation enters the tournament with a legitimate shot at winning the title, with soccer lightweights Turkey, Croatia and Russia all exceeding expectations and advancing further than more traditional superpowers this summer. For further evidence see England, the country where soccer was born, whose national team infamously failed to even qualify for this year’s tournament.
While it is admittedly more difficult to measure success in the Olympics due to the vast quantity of events, there is never doubt as to which nations will be raking in the most medals overall. It was clearly the US-China show in Beijing, with (shockingly!) Russia coming in comfortably in third place. And overall interest appears to rise in correlation to a country’s success, as larger nations such as this inextricably linked trio place heavy emphasis on the final outcome as a reflection of themselves. In Beijing, Michael Phelps would get pumped up listening to a Lil Wayne song, swing his disproportionately long arms a couple of times and then swim a few laps of the pool faster than anyone else. Yet his performance was treated as a national spectacle by the news media and the public at large, as if there existed no better indicator of America’s power than this one man’s flawless dolphin kick. I don’t mean to belittle his achievement (and I certainly don’t deny watching every race with bated breath or letting out a yelp when he won the 100m Butterfly by a fingernail), but with his Olympic performance he became the symbol of American dominance, more of an ambassador than even our own President or either presidential candidate.
I find it regrettable that we should read so much into any sporting event in the first place, but I also don’t foresee the importance of athletics diminishing any time soon. All of the Olympics’ pomp and splendor, in addition to the inherent promise of worldwide peace and harmony, bombards viewers with grandiose patriotic messages. Isn’t it only natural to be excited as one’s country asserts its athletic dominance on the rest of the world? Well, yes, if you happen to live in the US. And yes, as long as “athletic dominance” means nothing more than simply that.
The teams competing in the Euro Championships are in essence representatives of their respective countries, but nobody would claim Spain’s victory as a harbinger of the nation’s rising continental supremacy. Soccer is still just a game. However intense it may seem, it is no more than a game, constantly changing and often unpredictable. I only wish I could enjoy the Olympics in the same way, as an athletic competition stripped free of any grand significance.