SYNDICATED COLUMNIST
Just because there are trained professionals dealing with the infrastructure, logistics and marketing of the Summer Olympics, it doesn’t let the rest of us off the hook.
To fulfill our obligations as world citizens, instead of just blundering into nearly three weeks of pageantry and athleticism, we should apply critical thinking to the whole phenomenon.
But you’re probably way ahead of me. You’ve doubtless pondered why we don’t have Spring and Autumn Olympics. I can just imagine the former anchored by Synchronized Finally Taking the %#$@ Christmas Lights Down and the latter prominently featuring Greco-Roman Projectile Vomiting Because of Bio-engineered Pumpkin Spice Cattle Flatulence.
And let’s consider all the Olympics viewers who bellyached about their curriculum all through school. (“When will I ever use this so-called knowledge in the real world?”) Suddenly, when a TV network beckons, they dive headfirst into a crash course on all the intricacies of an obscure sport that will not rise to their consciousness again for another four years.
Unless their niece develops an unplanned pregnancy. (“Come on! Think! What was it the rugby sevens coach said about tracking down a deadbeat dad and garnishing his wages???”) Olympic athletes are generally regarded as inspirational figures, but the Olympic-industrial complex actually perpetrates an insidious scheme for discouraging future competitors.
While the athletes are pushing their bodies to the fullest potential, the rest of us are bombarded with endless commercials for fast food, beer, video games and addictive apps. One of my friends reached to pick up a dictionary to search for “sedentary,” but he threw out his back.
(Hey, maybe the average Joe could achieve his 15 minutes of fame if a deal was struck for weightlifters to compete to see how many couch potatoes they could lift!)
Don’t you love the hoity- toity way different types of sports are described as “disciplines”? Not to brag, but Refraining from Meeting That Jerk in HR Out Behind the Building is a discipline all to itself.
True, I admire athletes who are hyper-focused and can become really, really good at one specific task. But that’s a luxury most of us in the real world aren’t afforded. (“I aced turning the ‘Yes, we’re open’ sign toward the parking lot, but I really, really hope Larry is available at 5:00 to turn it back to ‘Sorry, we’re closed.’”) Maybe you’re satisfied with the color commentary on Olympic events, but I think it would be a breath of fresh air if interviewers gave some airtime to an athlete who has a background with no particular hardships, no lifelong ambitions, just an “Aw shucks, those steroids were going to waste and I had nothing better to do” demeanor.
That’s right: we need a break from “The lightning storm reduced me to ashes, but my great-grandmother’s spirit convinced everyone in my village to donate an organ to construct the lean, mean limping machine you see before you.”
Okay, the Olympic Games are lauded for bringing the nations of the world closer together, but sometimes that’s not a compliment. (“My event is so unpopular, they found a way to show it live at 3:00 a.m. in every time zone around the world!”) Maybe my snark will never get me on a box of Wheaties, but the Quaker Oats mascot did say, “Nothing is better for thee than me meeting you out behind the building…” Copyright 2024 Danny Tyree, distributed by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.
Danny Tyree welcomes email responses at [email protected] and visits to his Facebook fan page “Tyree’s Tyrades.”
