Out of The Darknes...
I�m not a big fan of the Olympics. While it is good for national pride, I believe this great nation is too full of itself as it is far overdue for a little bit of humble pie. Not to take anything away from the athletes, as almost to a woman and man, these folks have dedicated their entire lives in sporting events that mean little or nothing in the grand scheme of things. Fencers aren�t going to be paid multi-million dollar deals or be handed huge endorsement contracts; swimming, diving, track & field, archery, the list is simply endless. But these athletes have a drive and desire to be the best, not just any best, but the best in the entire world.
Disclaimer aside, I�m beaming with delight that the men�s basketball team got their asses handed to them. There are very few athletes at these games that are paid professionals that can make a living off of their chosen sports and the shining example of glutton, pride and arrogance for such an elitist group is atoned in the USA�s men�s basketball team. The rest of the world is all about football (I�ll cover this momentarily), but this team is the cream of the crop, the big dogs and the shining example of everything that is completely wrong with this country. There are other countries around the globe that don�t even have a combined gross national product equivalent to the salaries of our starting lineup. It�s no wonder the world views us with suspicious eyes and questions our true intentions with every step we make.
Despite my ill will for our basketball team and the government that has given us, as amerikans, a bad name and supported such corporate and elitist gluttony for quite some time, I did make note of something rather profound. Normally I�m not exactly an empathetic person for reasons of my own choosing, so being �moved� by anything doesn�t exactly happen to me on a regular type basis. I however did take note of two minor things that have slipped under the radar of most. While my colleagues, friends, co-workers and the general populace discuss ad-nausea, the kid trying to break the record for single haul for gold medals, how cute the twins on the gymnastics squad are and I even fell pray to a conversation or two on exactly how freakin hot that pitcher on the softball team is.
Beyond all this, I sat quietly outside and discussed with my middle east bantering buddy (a work mate originally from Jordan) about the Middle East politics represented at the games. We laughed at the Iranian wrestler who weighed in over his weight limit and then to draw attention to recent events, claiming he was pulling out because he refused to wrestle his opponent based on his countries repression of the Palestinian state (Israel, in case you are missing the point). We both remarked with wide eyed interest at the two athletes that entered the stadium amidst cheers out done only by the hosting country; the nation of Palestine was in the house. Finally in quiet tones, goose bumps racing across our flesh and at times with lumps in our throats, we talked about Iraq.
The Iraqi�s scrambled to put together any semblance of proper Olympic representation for the first time in a very, very long time. Finally lifted from the yolk of the oppressive tyranny, the budding nation has done it�s best to pull together an Olympic team. There are two particular instances that stood out and we shook our heads in amazement and quietly shared grins of hope. The initial conversation revolved around Iraq beating down and thoroughly flogging the football powerhouse of Portugal. For those of you not in the know during qualification for the Olympic games, Portugal beat the snot out of just about every nation they played earning them the semi-official rank of one of the top 5 football teams in the world. What made this feat all the more impressive for the Iraqi�s, was that this team was displaced; having to practice in other countries and all of their equipment was donated (all the way down to their cleats). Despite qualifying, they have been written off by the world (and by my grasp of the bracket system) and now stand one more win away from making it to the semi-finals and a possible Olympic medal.
This accomplishment alone was enough for both of us to see a sliver lining in the dark cloud revolving around the invasion of Iraq. We are mirror images on our opinions of this debacle, from motivation, to military handling; crooked corporate contracts given to friends of the Guvment and most importantly the deaths of thousands of uninvolved Iraqi citizens and the soiling of the Fertile Crescent with the blood of mislead, misguided and innocent amerikan lives. Amerikan lives, my people, my colleague�s brethren, your friends and neighbors who wanted little more in their lives than a chance to carve of an extremely tiny slice of the amerikan dream to call their own. Nearly a thousand of us�US�have died for half-truths and excuses that no one will ever truly admit to. The image of the amerikan people is tarnished; the world belittles and despises us�all of us. And those that have it the worst than any of us? The US soldier who is actually trying to make a difference, in spite of the shitty situation the leaders of this great nation have thrust them in.
The bile in my throat rises too often these days, when I see Dubyah smirking and gloating with the far-away look of retardation seeping into his eyes, while the rich get richer, the poor get sent off to die in far off desert towns and villages he can�t even pronounce, let alone find on a map. And through it all, the �rebuilding and rehabilitation� of the Iraqi nation seems stuck in perpetual park, the people still hate us, our soldiers still die and no one in a position of power to do anything about it gives two shits about any of this.
Friday night, I finally saw something that brought the slightest bit of light to the endless darkness. While drinking beer and bonding with the homeboyz, we flipped the television to the opening ceremonies and commented on occasions about costumes, athletes and which countries had the hottest chicks as a seemingly endless parade of nations passed before our eyes. For a brief moment, the camera angles changed and it showed American athletes joking, frolicking, hugging and laughing with their counterparts from Iraq. There was no weariness in their eyes, no look of impending doom and for once, no fear, just joy, relief and actual happiness. Come to think of it, the Iraqi�s looked like they were having a pretty damn good time too. Before I could comment to the assembled crew, the image disappeared just as quickly as it had came, but at that moment I felt something I hadn�t in a while; hope for the future. Even if it did take something as monumental as the Olympics to coax it forth from the pit of my soul.
In solitude the two of us sat, voices hushed so that those around us didn�t hear how proud we were that this entire campaign of greed, destruction and unrelenting carnage had finally yielded something good and it was actually something we both could see on the faces of those athletes as they stood side-by-side. These were faces that the propaganda machine could never hope to replicate, duplicate or fake, something so insignificant that two grown men had to keep it to themselves, because no one else saw it; whether they wanted to or not. We quietly reveled at the global super powered represented by their basketball team that was toppled from its perch and rejoiced as the budding nation finally managed to pull together and win one for the home team. In the depths of the unyielding, unending and unrelenting darkness, we finally saw a light.
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