Da games
by Matt Worley

I was sitting on the not-so-pristine hardwood floor of a sloping house on a small hill in St. Petersburg, Florida, when the last Olympics blew through our collective consciousness. Nothing was going on in my life except $5 dollar pizzas and the occasional night out to see a flick at the dollar movie house. Oh sure, we went to the beach occasionally, I banged on my drums out of frustration and there were occasional sojourns to Goth Night in Tampa, but mostly nothing was going on. I loved the Atlanta Olympics for one reason -- it was the only meaningful event in my life at the time.

So many memories. The inexplicable nature of Michael Johnson barely winning or placing during the qualifying rounds of his events, and then barreling over everyone during the medal rounds. Those scrappy young women of the U.S. gymnastics team, and the fish-like U.S. swimming team. Night after night was spent watching everything (usually twice through instant replay and all night news channels) while real life outside slowed down to a stumble.

Olympic fever has not hit me yet this year.

And this is not because I like summer sports better than winter sports. I like to ski, hockey can be exciting and dramatic, and that curling is just hilarious. But there's too much going on in my life to really care right now. I stare at the cover of Sports Illustrated (adorned with a beautiful picture of figure skater Michelle Kwan) and think I should really see her skate at least once. And then there is something else to do. There is a daydream of watching the Olympics that never extends itself into reality.

I wasn't going to write about the Olympics at all. There are more pressing matters in the world. Should we bomb Iraq? Should we subpoena everyone in the White House (including the new doggy dog on the block, Buddy)? Should Ken Starr get kicked in his kiester or kissed on his bald head? Is Monica Lewinsky a good role model for our up-and-coming overachieving children? Should the new Barbie doll's shape, figure and face reflect Mattel's ideal woman or the President's ideal woman?

It's only after all of these questions are asked when I finally sit down and try to figure out if I should watch the luge qualifying rounds or a few minutes of downhill skiing.

In 1980, I visited my mom's parents (who I knew as Grandma and Grandpa) during the Winter Olympics. We stayed up to all hours of the night (sometimes even until midnight!) watching the spectacle. I remember the surprising U.S. Hockey win over the U.S.S.R. That was the biggest impression I had about those Olympics. The U.S. Hockey team winning, wrapping themselves in the flag and being outrageously happy with themselves. It was a great moment.

I'm sure there will be more like them.

ESPN has their annual ESPY awards Monday night. One of the last categories available for voting was the Game Of The Year. This included well played games from many different sports: baseball, football, basketball and hockey. Seven different games from seven different leagues. Somehow we're gonna figure out the best of everything and then we won't have to remember the rest of those hundreds and thousands of sporting events that happen day to day. As long as we remember the really important ones, we can wipe the memory of the blowouts or meaningless games.

The Olympics are supposed to be about this Game Of The Year mentality. Everyone competing has gone through a long series of qualifying rounds, competitions and medical examinations. And then they have to do it all over again for a worldwide audience. Some of them will fail. Many of them will fail. Which will we remember? The great failures? Or the stupendous victories? And to us sitting around the living room as our own muscles think to themselves "There's no way in hell I could do that" does it really matter? Or is this the peaceful preamble to a larger spectacle waiting around the corner called Gulf War II -- More Death In The Desert?

So we're not going to go to war before the Olympics are over. It makes sense really, there are only so many things we can pay attention to at one time. Besides, all the advertisers have already blown a bunch of the 1998 budget on the Winter Games. Who will sponsor the war when it finally hits CNN, MSNBC and all of those late night talk shows?

I have a feeling someone will pony up the dough.

Until then we'll have visions of Michelle Kwan flying gracefully through the air, like a scud missile in training.

Matt Worley is voting for the playoff game (the third meeting of the season) between the Chiefs and the Broncos as the Game Of The Year. Since it ultimately decided who would win the Superbowl.

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