The Curious Case of the Clueless Olympian-at-Heart

I’m not much of a sports person. In fact, if watching Olympic sports was an event, I’d win gold in “Selective Spectating.” Once every four years, the world unites over high jumps and long dives while I unite with my couch wondering, “Is this the one where they jump over a stick or throw it?”

Still, something magical happens. The commentator yells “He did it!” and I yell back “What did he do?” Yet, my heart races too. Maybe it’s the spirit. Or maybe the caffeine.

“Sport has the power to change the world,” Mandela once said. True. It also has the power to make me Google, ‘What is dressage and why is the horse dancing?’

I sometimes enjoy and genuinely wonder about synchronized swimming. How do they move in perfect harmony? How do they breathe underwater while smiling like life is a musical?

But here’s the beauty of the Olympics—it sneaks into the heart of even the uninterested. You might not follow who wins the javelin, but you marvel at human strength, grit, and grace.

Thought to ponder: You don’t have to play the game to be inspired by those who dare to play it differently.