Sunday, February 21, 2010

Vancouver 2010: Bronze is just fine

Okay, so, whoo-hoo, American athletes are well ahead of their international competitors in the medal count at the Vancouver Winter Games.

But there’s something nagging at me about a certain attitude some of the athletes seem to be exhibiting. They seem to be perfectly satisfied just being pretty good.

When I think of the US athletes of past games, I see people who gave it their all, who overcame the odds to pull off amazing upsets—like the 1980 men’s hockey team that snatched gold from what, up to that point, had been a dominating juggernaut Russian team (the gold medal round actually came later, but the Soviets were so heavily favored, the gold medal was theirs for the taking).

Yes, American fans can wave their flags proudly because of this year’s performance, but the impression I get is that many of them are highly trained and talented athletes who have become complacent and are content to walk away with a shiny bronze instead of being bold enough to snatch the gold.

Cases in point from recent events: Lindsey Vonn and Apolo Anton Ohno, both of whom earned bronzes for their performances.

When Vonn hit the bottom of the slope after her run, she threw her arms up in triumph as if she had in fact just earned her second gold of the games. The celebration was a bit premature because, after all, there were more skiers to come. Her lead did not hold up.

Afterwards, she confessed that she made a strategic error in not skiing more aggressively in the bottom portion of the slope. She skied aggressively early and then backed off near the end.

Strategic error?

No, Lindsey, that’s called leaving something on the slopes. Nobody wins gold medals by holding back, by letting up. It’s the athletes who dare to push themselves, who ignore the risks of being aggressive and just go for it who earn gold, who are remembered, who will one day be called The Best. People who make “strategic errors” settle for third place.

Sure, Vonn’s got a lot to be proud of after shaking off a leg injury that might have ruined the chances of other skiers. I give her full credit for her grit and toughness.

So I have to wonder why it is that someone who is willing to fight through the pain to grab gold in one event would play it conservatively in another. There are no medals for "could have" or "should have."

I think the media are largely to blame for the high hopes I have for some athletes, particularly Apolo Ohno. Before winning bronze in yesterday’s 1,000-meter short track event, Ohno acknowledged that the Koreans were superb athletes and that racing against them would be a challenge. Frankly, I’ve always been somewhat disappointed in Ohno. He always seems to come up just short of gold. He’s got a box full of medals, but seldom comes out on top.

And I really wanted to see him beat the Koreans, who, it seems, really despise him. This race, in my mind, was one of those defining moments where an athlete has an opportunity to rise up and defy expectations. I wanted Ohno to erase those disappointments that lingered in my mind.

Instead, he settled for bronze and then flashed seven fingers to say, “Hey! Look at me! I’ve got the most Winter Olympic medals of any US athlete!”

Frankly, I felt kind of offended by that move after watching him finish third in the race. Most athletes—the ones who really want to compete, who have the drive to win, to be the best—would have been downtrodden by that outcome. Yes, he had to fight to come back from last place to earn that medal—I give him credit for that.

But that’s still a disappointment in comparison to the high hopes and high expectations. Again, I fault the media for part of this. You watch these commercials where he’s shown skating so fast the ice starts to crumble around him—as if he’s superhuman, as if he’s the Flash or something.

It’s not so much the third place finish that bothered me—it was when he held up those hands to show his pride in having earned seven medals. Yes, that’s something to be proud of, but at the same time, it’s also a signal from another athlete who’s content to be just pretty good.

Bonnie Blair, whose medal count Ohno eclipsed was on hand to watch the event. Many will no doubt begin tagging Ohno with superlative monikers because of the 7-medal achievement.

But let me put this into perspective: Blair won only 6 medals to Ohno’s seven, but five of Blair’s are gold. That’s the difference between an athlete striving to be the best and one who’s satisfied just to be one of the best.

Ohno’s got a lot of skating left to do. At some point, I would like to see him—and all the other athletes for that matter—stop being content just to medal and start fighting to be the best. If you leave something out there on the slopes, on the ice, on the field, on the court, then you’re settling, plain and simple.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Oh, the technology!

I have long had an antagonistic relationship with technology--especially vending machines. One issue has always been trying to feed dollar bills into the money slots. No matter how clean bill you've got, the machine's still going to spit it back at you a couple of times.

My problem was always that I rarely carried enough cash in the denominations the machines accepted to be able to buy anything. I was always scrounging around the floorboards of my car, in the pockets of my backpack, dark nooks and crannies of my coat pockets--anywhere that a wayward dime, nickel or quarter might be hiding--trying to find enough money for a soft drink or something.

It got to the point that I'd specifically start stashing money in various pockets and notebooks--whatever--so I'd have an "emergency snack fund."

I could never figure out why companies didn't just make the things accept plastic. I always have my debit card on me, but seldom small denominations of cash.

So when I discovered that IUS now provided faculty and students with what they called a U-Card, I was actually pretty excited. Finally! I shrieked to myself. Why didn't they do this sooner? And it was so darned easy to transfer funds to my card. Just log on with your university credentials, enter your debit card number, the amount you want to transfer, and voila! you're licensed to purchase.

I looked at vending machines in a whole new light. No longer did I sneer a challenge at them when I entered the building. Instead, I'd give them the what's-up-bro head nod. Keeping cash in a virtual stash is much easier than having to root through the glove compartment and floorboards of a car, let me tell you.

My first soft drink purchase with the U-Card was a moment of triumph. As God is my witness! I shouted in my mind, I shall never go thirsty again!

But then I learned of the dark side to the U-Card. Oh, yes, that faux ally in my battle against the Machines turned out to be the worst kind of traitor. To be sure, it's not entirely the U-Card's fault, but still, it was like the enemy had planted a spy in my camp deliberately to raise my hopes and then spring a malicious trap.

The first hint of trouble was the discovery that the U-Card will not allow the balance to fall to 0.00. Either that or it misreads the balance on the card. At the machine it will report that you've got $1.25--enough to purchase a soft drink, but when you try to make the purchase it chastises you with the message, "Insufficient funds." So I transfer a couple of dollars to my card and try again. No problem this time.

One day I walked into my classroom building on campus and went straight to the vending machines and tried for a soft drink. Insufficient funds, it told me, even though with the last purchase I still should have had a couple dollars on the card. So I sat down on a bench five feet away from the machines, pulled out my laptop, connected to the wireless and transferred the funds I needed to make a purchase.

As I sat there with my laptop, glaring at the Coke machine, it struck me that my life had attained a new level of absurdity.

The other dark side to the Vending Machine/U-Card alliance is that few machines on campus actually accept the silly card. They lure you in with promises of low rates, frequent flyer miles, etc., and then you find you can't use them anywhere. And many of the machines that PRETEND to accept the card steadfastly ignore me when I insert it.

Then there are those days where the one or two machines that work are sold out. The machines in my building were sold out for two weeks solid. I had to drink water out of the fountain. Out of the fountain! It's difficult to imagine how many microbes were allowed free entry into my body.

Today when I attempted to purchase a soft drink, I was confronted once again with the flashing red message SOLD OUT and was ignored by the other machines. "Don't give him nothin', Reggie!" the other machines seemed to chant.

I turned to the machines behind me that accepted cash in $2 and $5 denominations. I just happened to have a fiver on me, so I thought, fine, I'll buy a pack of gum or something and get enough change for a soft drink.

I inserted the five with surprisingly no hassle from the machine. Then I selected a pack of gum as my purchase choice. And the machine presented me with the message--I kid you not--Insert more cash!

I snarled and punched the return button, whereupon the machine proceeded to spit my $5 back out to me--in quarters!

As it turned out, that was just fine because now I had enough for the soft drink I pried out of the machine that refuses to accept the U-Card.

And so the battle rages on!