The Winter Olympics

In thirty days, the Vancouver Winter Olympics begin. It seems there’s a familiar pattern happening—the financial promise that has cities beg to be awarded the games turns into a distant memory as the games approach. Will tourist dollars pour in so Vancouver can recoup its investment? Will local tax payers be paying for the games long after they’re over? And if that’s the case, might the Federal Government contribute? Ah the glory of sport…and then the bills roll in.

In all the hoopla over the task of staging the Games (and this is the Winter Games mind you, a fraction the size of the Summer undertaking), there’s not much talk over what the Games mean. And in the Department of Meaning, I fear Canada has fallen into the same mindset as the United States. The meaning of the games is contained in victory. In providing the largest showcase for winning on the planet, the Olympic movement has somehow seduced countries into believing their medal haul validates their worth as a nation.

Canada, however, seems to have become seduced only recently. Ever since I first watched an Olympics through the perspective of Canada (the ’92 Winter Games in Albertville, France), I thought Canada had a different take on the Games than the States. Its athletes--gracious in defeat, delighted with a personal best, not arrogant in victory—seemed to embody what I understand to be the ideals of the founder of the modern Olympics, Pierre de Coubertin, as expressed in what some call the Olympic Creed:

The most important thing in the Olympics is not to win but to take part,
just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle.
The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well.

Raised on a virulent strain of Lombardism,* I was shocked to see Canadian athletes unashamedly happy with a personal best that left them too far to see the podium or hear the anthems. Americans, on the other hand, would win bronze and bemoan their fate. (I hear voices claiming, “Well, that’s how it’s should be. Are you going to the Games just to lose? Set the bar high, or don’t show up.” Unfortunately, contained in that single-mindedness of purpose is an inability to acknowledge limitation, accept defeat or admire the capabilities of others, behaviors that seem to spill over into other areas of American life.) In the Games, America has always sought to deliver a general butt-whupping to the rest of the world and make good on its most fervent creed: We’re Number One.

That infection seems to have finally spread north. Canadian athletes aren’t quite on the bandwagon yet, but the Canadian Olympic Committee is all in. At the last Summer Olympics, Team Canada had no marathoners. Two had qualified but didn’t go. Why? Because they weren’t considered podium material. That’s right. It’s not enough to qualify by achieving the Olympic standard, you’ve got to meet the Canadian standard. Participation, it’s a bunch of hooey. The Canadian Olympic Committee started a movement called Own the Podium, focusing on athletes who had a shot at winning, dumping those that didn’t. The Committee announced that they would give cash to athletes who won a medal. Canada, like our southern neighbour, can now only be as worthy as its medal haul is large.

I am proud to say Canada’s athletes are less on board. Recently, Kurt Browning, one of Canada’s great figure skaters, said this about medal-hopeful Joannie Rochette, Canada’s current women’s figure skating champ: whether she gets a medal at the Olympics doesn’t really matter anymore because skating has made her into such a confident woman. And Kristina Groves, who has qualified for 5 events in long track speed-skating, said this: My expectations [for the Olympics] are virtually non-existent. I find expectations a negative approach to skating. I just go out to skate my best. Thank you, Kurt and Kristina. We’ll leave it to the athletes to remind us what sport is for and what the Olympics are meant to be about.

*Lombardism (origin: Am. football coach, Vince Lombardi)--the belief that winning isn't everything, it's the only thing.