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I have joined the 3 billion global viewers of the Olympic Games on television.
I have learned so much from viewing the Games. Though too young to understand the political machinations at play, I remember the solemn moment of tragic history when nine Israeli weightlifters were murdered during the 1972 Olympic Games in Germany.
Similarly, I distinctly remember the African Americans John Carlos and Tommie Smith on the medal podium, holding up gloved fists in a silent protest against oppression during the height of civil rights movement in America.
This got them disqualified from the Mexico Games in 1968 and I was too young to understand. Nearly 50 years later, tennis great Serena Williams would make a similar gesture as she won Wimbledon 2016, with no one daring to challenge her.
I am a sucker for the opening and closing ceremonies of the Olympics. I remember one year, while watching the parade of nations, observing the Ecuador contingency. Their flag-bearer was a black woman. I was confused. I wondered if she had not strayed from Equatorial Guinea into their delegation? I was completely ignorant of the rich history of people of African descent in South America.
As I mature with the Games, I start to notice different things. Over the last few Games, I have noticed the different physiques of athletes based on their sports. It started with short distance runners who were all similarly muscular in their arms and legs.
Even through my television I could see Canadian sprinter Ben Johnson was unusually muscular when he ran his historical race, only later to be disgraced for doping. Long distance runners looked like every male runner from the Rift Valley, with skinny long limbs. Watching synchronized diving was interesting. The women had very healthy posteriors and small breasts.
Men’s judo is so unfair to have the athletes wrapped up in their mini kimonos, hiding such exquisitely-chiseled abdomens. Then there is swimming. If Adonis, the god of beauty and desire, took human form, he would look like an Olympic swimmer.
I watched as perfect body forms, without an ounce of fat, dived in and climbed out of the pool. Broad upper bodies that tapered into a small waist and endless legs wearing tiny Speedos bathing suits that facilitated our appreciation. Hmm...Thank you!
