Did you see the Queen of England jump out of that helicopter during the opening ceremonies? That’s about the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time.
Her Majesty barely blinked and had her familiar dour face back on by the time she hit the stadium floor—without a blue hair out of place, I might add.
The Summer Olympics have rolled around again already, and they’re in London, England this time, in case you’ve been hiding on another planet and hadn’t noticed.
I watched some of the opening ceremonies—not all—and found them very impressive.
But something in the back of my mind kept thinking about how much it all must have cost and how many countless hours of planning and preparation went into pulling off such an elaborate pageant.
Before it was all over, I felt very tired, but maybe that was because it lasted for what? Five, maybe six hours?
Besides, all that money could have been used for something useful, like building hospitals, or feeding people in some of those small countries who could only afford to send a handful of athletes to the games.
The opening ceremonies are kind of like the circus in more ways than one–there’s so much going on that I can’t absorb it all. I have trouble focusing when there is too much commotion anyway.
Is it obvious yet what a party animal I am? I know what you’re thinking: more like a party pooper.
Although I’m not much on big elaborate shows, I do like to watch the games.
I like the stuff they dig up on the athletes even better. I like their stories, the segments that explain where they came from, how they got there and what obstacles they had to overcome.
You know if there’s some sad story of tragedy or adversity in the athletes’ backgrounds, those nosy reporters are going to sniff them out.
I think about the psychology of an Olympic-class athlete. What drives them?
I admire their will to win, their dedication, their focus, but I can’t figure out how they maintain that for the necessary years of training. They must have some awesome support from coaches and parents or perhaps some obsessive-compulsive tendencies.
You might have seen the commercial where various athletes comment: “You know that book that’s a bestseller this summer? I haven’t read it yet.” (Do you reckon they haven’t read the Hunger Games? *Gasp!*)
“The day off? I haven’t had a morning off for like, 27 years.”
The really astounding one is the one that says, “I haven’t ordered dessert in two years.”
Can you imagine? Oh, pity those poor athletes.
Although I admire the best athletes in the world, I can’t imagine practicing all day every day at anything, even the things I love. I prefer my life balanced. And I prefer dessert every day.
Sure, it would be great to claim to be the best, but when your closest competitors are only a hundredth of a second behind you, just how much better are you than they? Wouldn’t you doubt yourself and wonder if luck didn’t factor into it a little bit?
I would—but there is such a thing as bragging rights.
Clearly, few people apply themselves with such dedication and focus to winning as those who make it to the Olympic Games. I guess that’s why the whole world is watching…including me.