Just Another Game: Its a small world after all.

Now that the Olympics are over I can start getting some sleep. The other night Elizabeth (the best late night viewing/cheering partner in the world) and I got hooked on the cold war revisited when the US/Russia men's volleyball game went down to the wire. We forgot briefly about sleeping kids as we erupted in cheers with the final match point.

Saturday night we were exhausted and should have gone to bed but we started the Gold Medal basketball game. I assured Elizabeth that if it turned into a blow out we could just go to sleep and watch the highlights later.

The blow out never came. As we watched what was supposed to be another easy 39 point win against Spain I despised Pau Gasol of the Lakers and actually found myself for the first time in my life cheering for his Laker teammate, Kobe Bryant. In some ways I was glad it was a close game because it was fun to see a sense of urgency and almost desperation on the faces of these perennial all-stars. How was Spain's 17 year old point guard not star struck?

The game stayed close the whole time. Just as the US was starting to go on an expected run, a young Spaniard dunked emphatically over Dwight Howard, this year's slam dunk contest winner, and instantly guaranteed himself an NBA contract by tomorrow.

Kobe then drained a long three and was fouled for a four-point play. He put his finger to his lips in a gesture as if to SSHHH the raucus crowd. It was the first time I have ever wanted Kobe to get cocky. (I will regret those feelings next time the Jazz play the Lakers.)

The US was up by 4 points with only 3 minutes left in the game... My cell phone rang...

Who's calling at this inappropriate hour when we should all be asleep?

"It's probably Paul," Elizabeth said.

"Are you watching this game live?" Paul asked as I answered the phone. The emphasis was on the word live, he knew I'd be watching. "It's way to close!" We both agreed. "Come on Coach K, Please don't let them just start shooting three-pointers. Play some Defense. Then take it inside." We've echoed this sentiment countless times late in games with Coach Mike Krzyzewski but he has always been coaching Duke.

This time its Coach K and the USA Olympic "Redeem Team". There is a moment of doubt, will they redeem?

And this time its not Duke taking on North Carolina on a Saturday afternoon in Cameron Indoor Stadium on ESPN (often with Paul giving me play by play over the phone when I didn't have cable or if I was not by a TV.)

This time its 2 AM Sunday morning for me. Paul is in Beijing, China on his cell phone sitting court side at the 2008 Olympics accompanying Jaque Rogge, President of the IOC, giving me commentary as I watch it a full world away.

The next drive is by Dwayne Wade for a decisive dunk, resulting in him slipping and falling on the wet floor in the key. Paul and I both react simultaneously from our respective continents. I guess it really was live.

I already knew he'd been having yet another opportunity of a lifetime at his fourth consecutive Olympic Games--escorting Rogge to state dinners seeing Bush and Putin, riding in the limo caravan, with red-carpet rolled out (isn't all carpet red in China, big deal), visiting every venue including a trip to Hong Kong for horseback riding, then watching the Gold Medal woman's soccer game against Brazil sitting 2 rows behind spectators Kobe and Pele (I don't know Pele's last name.)

We didn't talk about any of that though. We were just watching the game. In the last 8 years we've probably watched 3-4 games together on the same TV, dozens have been watched together this way. The fact that it was even possible for this one, seems like it should be shocking and miraculous. But in the end it was just another game. Kind of hard to watch at times, but great result. They pulled it off. Talk to you later, thanks for calling.

Paul had to leave quickly with his man Rogge, back home we stayed up to watch the Medals Ceremony. The world's problems weren't solved but at least something felt right. Good night.

By the way, a Deseret News Article about Paul at the Olympics:

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/1,5143,700253377,00.html

The Race

Last night Andrew and I were discussing the 100-meter race won by Usain Bolt, with a dizzying time of 9.69 seconds. I explained to Andrew that, obviously, I knew that he had an amazing time and that this guy is now considered "the World's Fastest Man" but I had no real context for how fast his time was. I had no earthly idea how long it would take Andrew or me to run 100 meters, and therefore couldn't fully appreciate how fast Bolt ran his race.

I asked Andrew how fast he thought he could run 100-meters and he said he thought he could do it in 14 seconds. I burst out laughing. "You seriously think you are only four seconds slower than the fastest man in the world?" I asked. Andrew assured me he could do it.

So this morning, we got dressed and took all the kids to Olympus High School, so Andrew could show me his skills. It was so funny. On the way up there, Abby and Isaac kept asking where we were going. "We're going to watch Dad race", we explained - as if that should make complete sense in the minds of our children.

At one point, Isaac asked, "Dad, are you fast?"

"No," Andrew answered, "I'm old."

Isaac responded with, "You're not old, Dad. You're smart."

"And handsome," Abby added.

When we got to the track, Andrew went to one end by himself, and the kids and I went to the other end. Isaac, totally confused at this point, asked, "Is anyone coming to race with Dad?"

I raised my hand, and yelled "On your mark, get set, GO!" and Andrew took off running with the kids cheering him on. With no warm-up or training or even ever running in the past year, Andrew crossed the finish-line with a time of 14.51. Not a world record - but pretty awesome. And pretty awesome that he was willing to actually go to a track and show us what he could do. Now he can sleep knowing that if nothing else, he is the fastest man in our family.

I Have A Dream...

I hate to belabor the point, but I really love the Olympics.

When I was in sixth grade, the theme of the National Reflections Contest was: "I Have a Dream..." That year, I entered the competition with a picture I had drawn. It was of me standing on the blocks at the 1992 Olympics winning a gold medal in swimming. At the time, I was a decent swimmer for our local swim team, and as an eleven year old girl, I really believed that if I worked at it, I could someday represent our country in the Olympics. My Olympic dreams were pretty much maxed out with that Reflections Contest when the picture I'd drawn, received an Honorable Mention at the district level.

Meanwhile, that same year, across town, my future husband's second-grade brother, Paul, was also entering the Reflections Contest with a picture he'd done of himself skiing in the Olympics. Although I am fairly certain his entry did not receive an Honorable Mention at the district level, he is at this moment working as the Assistant to the President of the IOC in Beijing, so he went a little further with his Olympic dream than I did with mine.

In any case, this week as we have watched the Olympics, I find my Olympic dream being re-ignited. Even with Dara Torres swimming at age 41, I have given up on myself ever swimming in the Olympics - I realize it's just not going to happen. However, since hearing that Michael Phelps coach knew he was something special at age 11, I have been looking at my children differently - studying them and wondering if one of them could have what it takes to compete in the Olympics. Could Abby do a back handspring on a balance beam - or stick the landing after a difficult vault? Does Isaac have the physique of the next great swimmer? Does Henry have the discipline to be a track star? Peter's helmet has a "US Ski Team" sticker. Could that someday be a reality? These are the thoughts that have been keeping me awake for the past few nights and I realize that my Olympic dream isn't over, the focus has just shifted.

Ready for the balance beam?

Last night while we were at a swim party, I looked over and saw Isaac warming up to get in the pool. He stretched his arms behind his back and then bent over and swung them back and forth three times - just like Michael Phelps. Afterwards, he jumped in the pool with his goggles on and started swimming butterfly. He's never learned to swim butterfly before, (he can barely do the front crawl) but after watching swimming this past week, he knew what to do - and believed in himself enough to give it a try. I stood on the edge of the pool watching with as much pride as Michael Phelps mom has watching her son race.

The next great American swimmer?

I don't really think my children will someday be great Olympic athletes. I doubt that I personally have the discipline it would require to even try to help them reach that goal. But I do love that the Olympics inspire each of us - my brother-in-law, my children and me - to dream of what may be possible.

I'm not sure swimming is his sport.

Future Olympic downhill skier?

Our Addiction

I don't know about you, but at our house we are totally enthralled with the Olympics. We seriously can't get enough.


On Sunday night at 11:00, Andrew and I started watching the Olympic coverage we had recorded from earlier in the evening. Initially, we planned to fast-forward through it and just watch the highlights, but as it turned out we got sucked into watching every event.

Finally, after hours of watching, we got to the coverage of the mens 4x100m free relay. What an incredible race! We were sucked into the drama of the moment. The French's trash talking. Michael Phelps quest for gold. We were riveted. As the race started, we were cheering. As the race continued, we were on our feet yelling. When the US won the race we were jumping up and down screaming. It was after 2:00 in the morning, and Andrew and I were jumping around our family room screaming. It was a great Olympic moment for the US and for us.

Last night, my kids were begging me to stay up and watch some of the Olympics for awhile. When it was time for Michael Phelps to race the butterfly I explained to my kids that no one had ever won ten Olympic gold medals and that I was letting them stay up so they could witness history being made. (I had to have some excuse for letting them stay up and watch TV that late.) Anyway, as Michael Phelps swam, my kids were screaming and cheering him on. They were all yelling "Go Michaelphelps" as if it were one word. When he won, they were ecstatic.

Later, as I was putting the kids to bed, Abby said, "I'm so glad we got to watch the Olympics tonight. Now, when we have kids, and they ask, 'What's special about you?', we can say, 'Well millions of things, but one is that we got to see Michael Phelps win his tenth gold medal.'"

So yes, we are all sleep deprived but we are loving the Olympics - and by parking our kids in front of the TV, we are apparently giving them historically significant experiences and making them more "special." Go USA.