Because Seven ate Nine

I haven’t watched much of the Olympics thus far. In fact, my exposure has been limited to a skewed view on a computer screen of competitions so obscure there were no English-speaking commentators — and — a brief glance of Women’s gymnastics on vault and uneven bars.

I certainly don’t dislike the Olympics. I find it rather overwhelming to watch because I really don’t know how to choose an athlete or team to support. In these otherwise less than civil times it seems like we’re dividing ourselves further. I know I’m supposed to cheer on Team USA or some version thereof, but I don’t understand why, and I’m unsure of how to make myself reduce my support to national pride. Unfortunately it’s not like watching The Mighty Ducks; I don’t know anything about each athlete’s or coach’s character, and I don’t have the visual cues from “good” and “evil” uniform signifiers. 

I’d prefer to get behind the whole of the human race, and I know that’s why a lot of people watch the Olympics. The culmination of dedication, control over your body, and achieving something we’ve deemed great through rich tradition is powerful entertainment.

Oddly enough, I love watching the World Cup, which could easily be attributed to my 15 years playing the sport. Yet I wonder if it’s actually because this event reveals the true spirit of such intense competition between nations. 

Plus, I hate the Beijing 2008 logo.