Where Has the Olympic Love Gone?

Dear Olympics,

I think we might need to break up. You know that torch I used to carry for you? Well, the flame just doesnt burn as bright as it once did. In fact, it was almost totally extinguished on Monday, when I saw Tucker Carlson, in his usual bow tie, on MSNBC interviewing gold-medal snowboarder Shaun The Flying Tomato White (who, incidentally, was also wearing some sort of bow tie thing). Carlson asked the tomato dude if there were any orgies going on in the Olympic Village. I couldnt decide whether to cry or puke. So I did both.

Im just not that into you anymore. To be completely honest, I have to admit that the love started to fade awhile back. In fact, the last time I remember being enchanted by the opening ceremonies was at the 1994 Lillehammer Games, when a Sami singer from Lapland chanted a joik. I mean, who doesnt love a good joik? And usually, my heart swells whenever I hear another uplifting tale of an impoverished athlete whos overcome great odds to reach Olympic glory. The last person who did that in my eyes was Australian aborigine Cathy Freeman, who won a track and field gold medal in Sydney six years ago. Even John Williams cant work his magic anymore. His once stirring Olympic anthem used to make me weep with joy, but now it just makes me feel empty inside.

Its not your fault. Okay, maybe it is, a little. I really thought we had something special, meeting every four years in places like Sapporo, Montreal, and Barcelonasome of the most beautiful cities in the world. We had some great times. But when you started to alternate summer and winter games every two years, what was once rare and precious became common and cheap. And though I know that you had some financial troubles, letting professionals play in the Games somehow tainted something that was once pure.Speaking of money, dont even get me started on the Salt Lake City bribery scandal.

But really, its not you, and its not me. No, the real culprit is globalization. Commercialization is killing my Olympic spirit. Now dont get me wrong; most of the time, I love the fact that our world has become smaller and flatter. I like that its relatively easy for sports fans to fly from their home countries to Torino to cheer on their athletes. I like that I can immediately access Olympic results from any Internet caf from Tasmania to Timbuktu. And I like that the U.S. team is wearing Roots clothing from Canada as part of its official uniform. I find it bizarre that Italian officials decided to play American disco music during the opening ceremonys parade of nations the other day, but theres something quirky and appealing about that, too.

Most of the time, though, when it comes to the Games, I long for the good old days of the Cold War. There was just something primal and enormously satisfying about a world divided into two camps, working out its issues on an alpine slope or in a swimming pool. Who could forget the 1980 Miracle on Ice, when the U.S. hockey team edged out the Soviet Union on its way to gold-medal victory? Or when East Germanys Katarina Witt edged out American Debi Thomas for the figure skating title in Calgary? And the stories of unlikely Olympians, such as English ski jumper Eddie the Eagle Edwards and the Jamaican bobsled team, immortalized in the film Cool Runnings, took on more resonance in a world where it was more difficult to train in other countries. Television coverage could occasionally veer into formulaic schmaltz, but we have to admit that those mini-biopics of underdogs were a lot of fun. Plus, they were narrated by the dulcet voice of the great Jim McKay.

Admittedly, those halcyon years were hardly perfect. There were numerous boycotts and, of course, the devastating Munich massacre of 1972. But the political context behind the Olympics made for good drama and, more important, it made the Games matter. It was actually important when Egypt, Lebanon, and Iraq boycotted the 1956 Melbourne Games because of the Suez Crisis; they didn’t want to be on the same playing fields as the Brits. We made a value statement by boycotting the 1980 Moscow Games because of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. We were upset, but unsurprised, when they returned the favor four years later in Los Angeles. The Games werent just games. They were a stage on which the nation-state was a relevant actor and world politics could be played without bloodshed (not to mention a convenient excuse to indulge in officially sanctioned, passive-aggressive jingoism).

Oh, dearest Olympics, todays world is a completely different place. Theres a war in Iraq, Muslims around the world are protesting the Danish publication of cartoons depicting the prophet Muhammed, a near-coup in the Philippines, and bird flu has now spread to Nigeria and India.Meanwhile, the American hero of the Games, the 19-year-old Flying Tomato, has collected four homes and become a multimillionaire from his commercial endorsements. No gold for Sasha, no medals for Bode, but who cares?The Games just don’t feel all that important.

I wish I knew how to quit you. But even though the Torino Games are almost over, I do feel a small spark of hope for you deep in my heart. Maybe it was Michelle Kwans graceful exit due to injury, showing true Olympic spirit by giving her spot to a teammate. Maybe it was Italian speed skater Enrico Fabriss victory over two squabbling Americans in front of his home crowd. Maybe its because the Olympics still stubbornly cling to curling. And maybe its because I think 2008 is going to be a lot more interesting. China and Russia have already agreed to share coaches and training tips in an effort to thwart U.S. dominance. And political tensions across the Taiwan Strait will be a prominent backdrop as the Games approach. So lets not break up just yet. With a little fanning, the Olympic flame may burn once again. Ill see you in Beijing.

For the love of Zeus,
Christine