Thursday, March 26, 2009

O is for Olympics?*


from September 2008:
I went to the Oprah show at Millennium Park this morning. I couldn’t resist another huge feeling of alienation – I’m pretty sick that way.

She invited 150 or so American Olympians from Peking as her guests and Mayor Daley weaseled a tough ticket, to boot. Yes, the stereotypes were there – the fawning women, the inside knowledge of Oprah and her friend Gayle, the cultishness was thick. But this wasn’t just the usual morning shtick. We were enveloped in red, white and blue confetti, chants of “USA, USA”, and a declaration of a mystical national spirit that made them run faster, jump higher, and kick foreign ass in sports no one else plays.

Michael Phelps seems like a normal enough guy. They all wanted to marry him, or at least, were real interested in his sexuality (aren’t we all?). His mother was there and we cried right along with her (didn’t we all?). He won his race, as Dana Torres lost hers, by .001 of a second. I don’t feel that’s Olympian, that’s just plain petty. Let these people swim the English Channel and talk to me about thousands of a second.

A gymnast stated that after watching Oprah’s show and buying the book O recommended, she compiled a “vision board” with a printed gold medal in the center and then went on to win in Peking. The fact her parents were Olympic champions, has been coached since the age of three and trained 8 hrs a day was happenstance. She won the crowd bowing in the Church of Oprah.

I can’t think of a more undeserving bunch than the Men’s basketball team. These men have been coddled since showing any talent (and height) from a very young age. Full scholarships through college, million dollars contracts upon graduation. And they squeaked through Spain. Kobe, of all people, implied they were redeeming the reputation of American basketball players. Keep it in your pants would go a long way towards that, Kobe.

Oprah did highlight the achievement of the Afro-American swimmer and fencing medal winners from the Bronx and Brooklyn, respectively. Good for them.

Three quarters of the women’s relay team was there and as the replay on the screen showed, the final runner caught and passed the Russian on her last strides. That got one of the largest ovations of the day. Quite apparent to me the Red Scare still exists. Ms. Oprah asked her if she received the extra boost of energy from all the national spirit sent halfway around the world. The runner replied that she did. She didn’t get mine; I was asleep on the couch at the time.

Kerry and Misty gave O a volleyball and it wouldn’t do her any harm to get out to North Avenue beach for a game or two. Misty will be Dancing with the Stars this coming season, now can’t you just wait? OMG.


Along with Oprah, Obama and Olympics this was and Overt commercial for the Chicago 2016 bid. The suburbanites want it and fighting it seems like energy spent. In my worst moments I can’t even see the world in 2016 existing, but like the Columbian Exposition of 1898 it will be here with the accompanying 40% unemployment and it will be like a Hollywood western town set, a la, Blazing Saddles. Meanwhile, the poor will continue to have their land grabbed and huge money will change hands for speculation. Nothing will be improved except new ways to fleece the tourists.

These sorry citizens need something to cheer for – give them circuses. “We won more medals than any country on Earth!” Oprah crowed. No kidding. “How did feel to hear the National Anthem on the stand?” she gushed. I refuse to stand for it; the war song makes me cringe. These athletes were supernatural, Ubermen, godlike, according to the show. Drunk on sports this society is with a decision quick and final, unlike any other aspect of this government, like war and health care for instance, subjects that take so much disturbing effort to think about. Let’s make idols out of our well-to-do beautiful youth. Let’s pretend they are perfect and a perfect reflection of our racist, classist, sexist, mean spirited society.

I Heart Oprah, it’s so easy to go with the flow. What took me so long?

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