My Olympic Experience

On Sunday, the games of Olympiad XXIX come to a close; how fitting it is that, exactly forty years removed from the Black Power salute by Tommie Smith and John Carlos on the medal podium in Mexico City, the ominous clouds of controversy hang over Beijing. As we all know, the preceding months were rife with protests calling for a free Tibet, a free Turkestan, freedom of the press, and so on; as well, China's human rights record and ecological sustainability floated to the surface.

Of course, all of it seemed to disappear from consciousness once the lavish display that was the opening ceremony signified the commencement of the Games. Suddenly, the "spirit of the Games" would not be sullied by talk of politics.

So I put my feet up and absorbed the fanfare. I'll admit, I am a fan of sporting events, and I did enjoy watching as much of the festivities as I did. What was most salient for me was the advertising, especially the fast-food giant serving as "official restaurant" of the games featuring future Olympic hopefuls dining happily on hamburgers and french fries, and the pharmaceutical company lauding its team of athletes despite the fact that these competitions are supposed to remain drug-free. I wonder how much time before national flags are abandoned outright in favour of corporate logos. I can see it now: "And here's Team Visa entering the stadium. They're sure to increase their medal haul from the last Games."

This year, we were beholden to two of the greatest athletic feats ever witnessed: first, the eight-gold-medal performance by one Michael Phelps of the United States, seven of those victories coming in world-record time; the other, the three gold medals of one Usain Bolt of Jamaica, also smashing world records in the process. Unfortunately, the latter was not without his controversy, as two former sprinters, Frankie Fredericks of Namibia and Ato Boldon of Trinidad & Tobago, decried young Bolt's seemingly presumptuous display of running; this was followed by Jacques Rogge, President of the International Olympic Committee, criticizing Mr. Bolt for his lack of sportsmanship after the race.

As a psychology major, these criticisms had me pondering biases in thinking. This morning, my thoughts were on whether or not Dr. Rogge, in his remarks, exhibited implicit racial bias. I wondered, had it been a White man accomplishing these feats and behaving in a similar manner, whether he would have focused so much of his energy on the athlete's lack of decorum. I mean, when Michael Phelps won his gold medals, he clenched his fists and released a mighty roar in celebration; could that not exemplify lack of propriety? Given what I've learned about the White Man's hegemony, I want to say Dr. Rogge, beyond his own awareness, insinuated that the young man ought to behave more like a White man; as a budding Deacon in the Church of Science, though, I'm hesitant to do so, as Mr. Fredericks and Mr. Boldon, two Black athletes, also had derogatory remarks for this sprinter, leading me to ask: Were the three exhibiting a similar bias, perhaps an age bias? Or did Dr. Rogge, in fact, exhibit racial bias, while the latter two, as former competitors, commented from such a perspective, as their words were directed at the race itself and not the aftermath? Having said all that, none of Mr. Bolt's competitors had any problem with his celebratory gestures, and we must bear in mind he's still a child, having just turned twenty-two, so how can we expect him to be prim and proper after winning three gold medals in the Olympics?

After two weeks, this tawdry display of "one world, one dream" will conclude. I wonder how many Chinese remained hungry so that these multi-million-dollar venues could be built, how many armed personnel were deployed to cloister the athletes and their fans from the ugly truths pervading the country, how many more dams and coal-fired plants were needed to power the stadia and media equipment, how many dissidents disappeared in the name of goodwill and camaraderie, and how much of this took a back seat to jingoism; in short, I wonder how much deeper we dug ourselves to fabricate such a display of pretense.

In closing, I would like to send my gratitude to the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation for airing its piece on Tommie Smith and John Carlos and reminding me of a time when revolution was in the air; despite your glossing over the last four decades and accepting the fallacy that racism is a thing of the past, your piece helped serve as the impetus for my discourse today. Also, though I was not alive to see it, I wish to send my sincerest gratitude to Tommie Smith and John Carlos for sacrificing personal glory to strip the veneer off this show and reveal to us how things really are.

In hopes of rekindling the flame of peace, I present this tribute to days gone by:



Photo taken from Martina Manescalchi; actual photographer unknown