The Olympics: What makes us cry?

And how does it bode well for Logan County?

By Sam Redding

[SEPT. 30, 2000]  Let’s analyze that rivulet of salty water that tends to retrace its path down your cheeks each time you watch an Olympic event. Follow it to its source in your eye, then locate the duct of its origin, then isolate the nerve that triggers the duct to release its liquid load. Backtrack along the nerve, through its nodes and synapses to a spot in the brain where the first electric impulse was charged by a thought. What thought?

What thoughts arise in our minds during the Olympics to cause tears to flow? A variety of thoughts, I think—distinct mind-blooms that can be classified and, therefore, understood. Of course, sometimes several mind-blooms explode at once, sending shock waves of nervous vibration that rattle tear ducts and turn rivulets into streams. But let us consider the thoughts individually, granting that they may combine on occasion for maximum voltage.

We might conceptually define one tear-producing thought as "patriotism." Hearing our national anthem gives rise to this thought, but so also does recognizing the grand historical anomaly that is America, with its faces of many colors and its surnames reflecting a thousand national origins. Our country is simply not like any other: It is better. It is better in ways that make us assume divine providence. America is not better because we are of superior stock or sit on greater resources or are in any way genetically superior. We are better because we are free, and it has been our destiny to show over the course of two centuries—a lightning flash in the long night of history—that democracy and freedom work. Francis Fukuyama wrote of the end of history, meaning that liberal democracy as evidenced in America is the political and social end to which all history has pointed. Our national charge is to reach out and bring other peoples to where we are. Or so it seems to that spot in the brain that sparks proudly when Michael Johnson mounts the victory stand and the star-spangled banner rises to the top of the pole.

"Recognition of human excellence" is another category of tear-prompting thought. It is often accompanied by a tinge of guilt: "God, if I could just be really good at any one thing!" Most of us must settle for trying our best to be pretty good at a lot of things—doing our job, raising our kids, supporting our church, helping our neighbors, mowing our grass, watching our weight, practicing our piano, driving our car. The burden of being pretty good at life can be smothering, and Marion Jones’ athletic brilliance and engaging smile bring us joy and respite. Someone else is pressing the bounds of human possibility; I guess I can take a rest.

 

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I am partial to the sport of swimming because of the inestimable "heart" it requires. Imagine the pain the long-distance runner endures. Now imagine the runner gasping for oxygen with his head in a bucket of water while at the same time lifting weights with both arms. You have just imagined a day of training for a swimmer—one day in a string of days that span years leading to an Olympic performance (or even a respectable showing in a high school meet). Swimmers demonstrate a level of internal fortitude that makes one think that with focused effort all things are possible. Misty Hyman, you have enough heart to lift a mountain. Supreme internal fortitude makes me cry.

Patriotism, excellence and heart are attributes that our brains are hard-wired to respond to. There are surely more. When Maurice Greene prays at the starting line, I reach for a Kleenex. Remember the painting of George Washington kneeling in prayer before Valley Forge? Greatness is most beautiful when its powers are humbly drawn from a transcendental source.

I wonder if we experience spurts of improved personal productivity every four years, fueled by the inspirations of the Olympics. If so, then we may be on the cusp of a very good time in Logan County. Through a salty stream, we can see clearly now.

[Sam Redding]

 

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