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Three
vignettes show Olympics in person
give you so much more than television
By Holly Calmes
Special to GwinnettForum.com
(Second of two Olympic articles
by Holly Calmes of the Hudgens Center for the Arts in Gwinnett.)
PARK CITY, Utah, Feb. 22, 2002 -- The Olympics are not about a
city or sports records. They are about people transcending the ordinary,
creating new levels of communication and understanding. That is
an idealistic way to look at the Games. Another way is to experience
it first-hand, which I have just done.
Last Thursday evening I witnessed three separate occurrences that
put the Games in context for me. It was Valentine's Day, and I sat
front row center at the Men's Gold Medal Figure Skating Competition.
I had come to cheer my favorite skater Alexei Yagudin, underdog
to his fellow Russian, Pluschenko. But Pluschenko had fallen during
his short program. From the moment Yagudin hit the ice, he knew
the gold was his. This young man had endured injury, illness, and
bad luck over the last year, but he's tenacious, and was set for
victory.
When his long program finished, the music ended, the crowd roaring,
Yagudin did not strike a pose and bow. Overcome with emotion, he
threw himself on the ice, pounded it with his fists, kissed the
surface. It was the most profound expression of joy I have ever
seen. He set Olympic history with four 6.0 marks, the rest 5.9s.
What viewers didn't see on TV:
A total of 23 young men skated before Yagudin. One was a Chinese
who began smoothly, but with every jump, he fell hard. On his fourth
fall he lay still.
His music continued without him. That's when the crowd began clapping,
chanting, The Chinese boy lifted his head, slowly came to his feet
and finished his program, obviously injured but not a quitter. He
received the second largest ovation of the night, proving that the
Olympic spirit belongs to the spectators as well as the athletes.
The third occurrence was on a lighter note. Walking back from the
skating, our group was surrounded by a gaggle of rowdy "twenty-somethings".
A limo passed and one young man shouted, "That's Michelle Kwan!
I love you! Michelle! Marry me!" He ran alongside shouting
his proposal until the limo outdistanced him. Now, that's an Olympic
Dream of major proportions!
* * * * *
The Olympic Village was in Park City, a "for-real" Western
mining town lovingly restored. It was THE place to be, and everybody
wanted to be a cowboy. Crowds were plentiful but not overwhelming,
and you learned to look for credential badges to spot Olympians.
Trinkets were tastefully tucked into shops. Park City was simply
itself. This lily didn't need gilding.
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