Go For the Gold!

I said in my last post that I love the Olympics.

And I do.

Totally.

Winter or summer, doesn't matter to me.

I get such a rush out of watching these kids (and at 43 I'm including anyone under the age of 30 as a "kid") doing something they are so passionate about!

I always prefer amateur sports to professional sports. I love watching people compete that are still enthralled with their sport. Money means nothing. Of course some of them play and train with the hopes that they may some day make money with their ability, but for right now they play for pride.

Pride in their school, representing their families, love of their country.

For some of these young men and women, the Olympic dream culminated with the opening ceremony. They knew from all their other competitions that they probably didn't have a snowballs chance at a medal.

But they made it. Made it to the Olympic Games and they would do their best no matter what.

Because all eyes were on them.

The eyes of the world.

We watched skiers and skaters fall. We saw the best efforts fall short.

But we also saw the best and brightest and no matter how they did we were watching dreams come true.

The dream of just competing.

For so many of these athletes this is it. This IS the lifelong dream. Slumber parties and camping trips were replaced when they were growing up by hours and hours of practice. Before school. After school. Training in facilities away from their families. Year after year, competition after competition.

All for just a couple of minutes.

For some, that is all there was.

One race. One jump.

One and done.

And for that poor young man from Georgia, not even that. Killed doing what he loved to do at a place he had dreamed of being. But he had not actually gotten to compete yet.

So, as I sit here waiting on the Gold Medal hockey game to start and will watch the closing ceremonies tonight, I will also wonder about tomorrow.

For those that will not compete again. How will they transition into a "normal" life? A regular job or a standard school schedule.

How will they become like us?

Spectators. Watching another generation of Wheaties boxes.

Waving our flags, hands over our hearts, holding our breaths, willing the young men and women to go faster and higher.

How indeed.