Impressions of Salt Lake
Tonight the sun will set on the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. Up until now I haven't written a word about the games, though I have watched it just about every night for the past two weeks.
I am by no means a sports fan, or expert, or someone who can intelligently compare the Olympics coverage to other sports events. I can however reflect on three decades of Olympic-related viewing, for I have always been mystified, and at times enchanted by the almost spiritual aura of the competition. Summer Games however, just don't do it for me.
So now on this final day of competition, a few cursory impressions of Salt Lake.
1. The best ever? Tonight we will hear plenty of blustery NBC anchors ask American athletes and politicos if these games were the "best ever." I once worked in the marketing department of an international arts festival, and every year was the best year ever. Self-serving puffery that should be ignored.
2. Americans only care about ice skating. Every time Scott Hamilton popped up on the screen to yap about his pals in the backstabbing, drama fueled ice skating world I felt we were all missing out on something better. Sure, there's lots of ice-skating to cover, from the singles to pairs, men and women, and even that god-awful ice dancing, but ice-skating represents everything that is wrong about the Winter Games. For most ice skaters, Olympic competition is merely a stepping-stone to the professional touring circuit, and a gold medal guarantees a certain level of public appreciation (that is, unless you're Michelle Kwan, the Julia Roberts of ice skating). Ice skaters may smile, act all sympathetic to global events or what-have-you, but nationality is the last thing on their minds. They're dreaming about cereal box covers, appearing on Jay Leno, and the millions they'll make spinning in Civic Centers across America. Ice skaters are not a team. Each arrives alone, in their vacuum-sealed world of trainers, coaches, and raining teddy bears. Personality is just as important as skill, as NBC so pointedly reminds us by uncomfortably zooming in on their smiling, mascara runny faces. I say stick them all in anonymous skin tight body suits and let the technical merits, not personality or "artistic merit," judge them. They are not artists, and until the petty voting system is overhauled, ice-skating is not a sport. It's a glorified beauty contest with an extra long talent category.
3. Dignity Rarely has one word been tossed around in such an undignified manner. Every time an American, or a certain Canadian figure skating pair, came incredibly close to snatching a Gold and had to settle for something less, NBC anchors would crow about how they handled themselves with "dignity," instead of, I assume, bitching and crying and throwing a tantrum. I don't know about you, but I'd be damn happy just to have been there at all, and a medal of any kind would be well received. If a reporter thanked me for acting dignified, I think I'd make an ass out of myself just to prove them wrong. We could use a little more honesty.
4. Athletes: avoid the media If I was a coach of an athlete the media was predicting great things from, I'd order them to avoid reporters and turn down offers for those corny, nostalgia-laden NBC "profiles." Over and over, NBC either picked the wrong people, or the chosen ones froze at the last minute; allowing the underdogs to sweep in and snatch the medal. Case in point: women's bobsledding. You could practically hear Costas screaming out for some intern to get biographical info on the two, thus-far ignored American women who won the Gold so he wouldn't look like an ass on the air. The attention simply doesn't help matters.
5. Whatever happened to all-day coverage? I seem to remember a time when the Olympic Games trumped everything else on the air, with events running throughout the day - live - and not this pre-packaged, nightly "prime-time" coverage NBC provides. Sure, they say that CNBC and MSNBC are filling the void, but are they? Seemed like every time I tuned in to these sister networks they were providing regular programming. By lumping pre-recorded snippets into a packaged three-and-a-half-hour advertising juggernaut every evening, the spontaneity is lost, and we miss seeing full coverage of each event. I don't know about you, but I want to see athletes like the Jamaicans and Africans compete, even if they don't have snowball's chance in hell of winning, not an edited telecast squarely focused on the predicted winners.
6. Personality can have its merits If it wasn't for American skater Apolo Anton Ohno, I seriously doubt I would have ever seen short track skating. Until Ohno, short track was rarely if ever televised in America, for it was a sport supposedly only the Koreans or Japanese cared for. For me anyway, short rack flat out rocks - it's fast, very competitive, wrought with potential for catastrophe, and far more riveting to watch than just about everything else. Let's hope every year has an American Ohno, or else we may never see it again.
That's all folks.
