I guess the title sums up my thoughts; boring!

I had high hopes for the opening ceremony of the 2024 Olympics in Gay Paree, but like the rain that fell during the ceremony it was damp, annoying and kept me (and the participants) from enjoying the ride down the Seine.  As the floating line of boats, scows and barges trudged athletes along the parade route, I felt something was missing. 

There had always been a particular thrill for me to watch the countries athletic representatives parade into a stadium.  Their country’s flags held proudly aloft by a chosen member.  There was always a chance to chat about the uniforms that were worn and some interesting tidbits offered by the commentators about how the flag bearer was chosen or the significance of a particular color scheme or cut of the uniforms.  But, alas, under the rainy skies of France everyone was under a cheap poncho or soaking wet.  The cameras couldn’t even get clear shots of athletes-especially after the sun began to fade. 

Then there were the intermittently staged musical or production acts along the way.  To say they were stupid would be to give “stupid” a bad name.  They were embarrassingly low grade Oscar performances.  Some were unintelligible, either being in a foreign language (with no translation to English) or were muffled by the singer’s inability to project.

The Last Supper drag show was abysmally bad and in poor taste (but honestly I don’t expect much artistic merit from Europe these days). I wasn’t offended because I’ve worked with mentally disabled kids and adults and one can’t take offense at what either says or does.

And on top of it all was perhaps the most puzzling choice for two announcers ever conceived of: Kelly Clarkson and Payton Manning.  While both people may be included in the best of their respective fields they clearly are not trained broadcasters. Clarkson’s sole contribution was her oft repeated teenage vocabulary outbursts of ” Wow!” Manning’s contribution was his prolonged silence.  Seriously, what was the man supposed to contribute to the narration of a parade? “Yes Kelly, when I played football we had to play in the rain too.”(not an actual quote). Yes Kelly, in America we call football “soccer.” (Again, not an actual quote-but funnier than anything he said).

This leads me to another gripe about this Olympics.  Not enough trained broadcasters.  Granted, there were so many events this time around that it’s inconceivable that NBC could find enough talented announcers to cover it all.  So, they went with jocks. Not the strappy- supporter type things but athletes that had competed at some level in the sport being covered.  Honestly I would have rather have had Bill Murray’s Carl the greenskeeper do the play by play (I can hear it now): “The crafty Russian looking for her first gold medal.  It’s a Cinderella story Bill.  Sure to bring a tear to everyone’s eyes.”

What we got was; “The bikes go fast.  They need to figure out how to win. They train hard.”  All in a monotone that drove me to madness.

I remember years ago when Howard Cosell was a sports broadcaster for ABC.  He had called many boxing matches and then, after Monday Night Football was invented, he was chosen to be part of the announcing team.  If one were to listen to the critics of him then, Cosell was the worst thing to happen to football since revenue sharing.  But the man could turn a phrase.  He could capture a moment verbally.  But, because he was so disliked by sports “purists,” the movement to hire only jocks to call plays and provide “color commentary began.  And so, we were treated to the oratory brilliance of Dan Fouts, OJ Simpson, Fran Tarkenton and Dan Dierdorf. Ugh!

Broadcasting, telling a story while a story unfolds, is an art.  Listen to someone like Vin Scully or Al Michaels call a baseball game.  They had compelling voices and a way to speak with the rhythm of the game.  Only one jock, John Madden, could equal them for keeping my interest.

But I digress.  Another thing that I found boring about the Olympics this year (and forevermore I fear) is the perfection of the Athletes.  I can’t think of one surprise this year.  There were no “Cinderella” stories, no come from nowhere kid tale to inspire and amaze. Just professional athletes that perform their craft 24/7 365. When win and lose is separated  by 1/100th of a second and the favorite wins 99 percent of the time, that’s not competition.  That’s a corporation.  It’s Nike vs Adidas. 

And when nearly every winner from every country has either trained in America or attended an American college where they had a sporting scholarship or their coaching staffs are made up of Americans, well, that ain’t the Olympics I grew up with.

Where are the classic rivalries?  Where is the national pride? Because athletes could pretty much make up any reason to represent any country they felt like, I didn’t have much emotional interest invested in them. It reminds me of product labels that read “Assembled in China from American parts.” Watching the winners and the losers hug and console and praise one another I can’t help but think of a line from the movie Patton where Patton says “Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. Now, I wouldn’t give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war.” 

So what is different? Corporate sponsorships. Professional athletes. When every athlete is owned by a couple of shoe companies and they all compete against each other all year long at the same events for many, many, many years, they all become friends and known quantities and don’t dare rock the money boat that so handsomely pays them.

My wife and I watched a show called “The Almost Impossible Game Show” during a break from the 2024 Corporate Games.  The premise is simple: give random tasks to random people and see who can complete them. A sample of the tasks are; “Groin Croissant” an event where contestants dress in a body suit, plastic croissants are attached to them via hook and loop patches and they have a set amount of time to shake the fake bread off of their bodies. Another event is “Word Lick” where a word is spelled on a pane of glass with vinyl letters.  The blindfolded contestants must then use only their tongues to decipher what the word is.  High sports?  Not really.  Entertaining?  Hell yes.  It’s funny and the people are earnest and seem to want to do their best.  The announcer is gut busting funny and I’d rather watch that than the Olympics any day.

I also wouldn’t have to be reminded every five minutes that some guy named Snoopy Dog was on site along with random celebrities I neither know or care about.  I remember Olympics where athletes were celebrated.  Back stories were shared, equipment advances were heralded and the amateur athlete that struggled to become the best also had to hold a job to pay for their dreams was celebrated.

I know I sound like an old fart-and I am one-but that doesn’t discount a memory of when things were done better.  Better because they were earned, not manufactured.  Better because they were rumpled and unpolished, not pressed from a machine.

One bright spot-so as not to end on a downer- was women’s hammer throw.  These gals are big and look like they carried around filled beer kegs on their shoulders for a living.  These beautiful ladies would swing the hammer, spin and spin and let that sucker fly.  Then the camera would come back to their faces and they would be giggling like a young schoolgirl.  It was delightful to watch.

Well, I’ve vented and I feel better. Carry on.