The Square Life

That's what I'm talking about! Last night's 4X100 Relay is why I love Olympics. It was magical moments like the one that took place in the swimming pool yesterday that turn virtually everyone into a sports fan. I don't know too much about swimming, but I've learned a couple things about clutch performances in my many years of watching sports. Jason Lezak's final 50 meters? Clutch with a capital C!

Here are the four moments that equate to magical sports moments, as demonstrated last night:

1)       It all has to start with that moment when the naysayers are drowning out all other voices. Last night, by the time that Alain Bernard (the foolish Frenchman who decided it was a good idea to say they he'll "smash" the Americans) took the final turn, the announcers were talking as if there was absolutely no chance the Americans would win gold. You couldn't really blame them. We were far behind the world recorder holder with one lap to go. Plus, Michael Phelps had already swum the first leg. All I thought was, “Who is this Jason Lezak guy, and what chance does he have to pull off a comeback?”

2)       That moment when you think it’s possible, albeit a long shot. About midway through the last lap, while the commentators were still lamented the U.S.’s lost, my brother-in-law Brett and I were a little confused. It looked to us like Lezak wasn’t completely out of it. We gained a little hope. “It looks like he’s gaining on him,” we said to each other as we leaned a little closer to the TV.

3)       That moment when you realize it actually might happen. With only a few meters it became obvious that Lezak was, in fact, gaining on Bernard. The announcers began to show hope too, and for Brett and I that translated into standing up, and talking to the television set as if it could here us. “Come on! You can do this. Honey, wake up! You’re missing this!” I love this moment. Your whole body tenses up, and you couldn’t stand still if your life depends on it. Flashes of Kerri Strug start dancing across your mind and you feel like you are at the top of an especially intense roller coaster.

4)       The moment of ecstasy. The moment that you realize your hero actually pulled it off. When the graphic showed the number 1 next to the American flag, we were as giddy as school kids. Momentarily unaware that my nephew Boston is asleep in his bed, Brett and I started yelling and dancing (well, what we did was sort of like dancing). This moment is the greatest moment of all. It’s like the climax of your favorite movie in reality (assuming your favorite movie is something like Rocky). It is the type of moment that makes you want to hug perfect strangers and dance in the streets. It’s, well, fun!

Neither of us knew a thing about the swimming or Jason Lezak or much of anything we were watching. But that didn’t really matter. Some French dude said he was going to smash the Americans, and then the Americans went all Rocky on him. Once again, some seemingly normal athlete brought a nation together—if only for a brief moment—and gave us all a collective reason to cheer and dance (or at least try to dance). And these are the moments that make the Olympics so special.