The Olympics are upon us this week, and I know what that means: even more dramatic, televised events can dominate the headlines–as well as my social media feeds and subsequently, my attention span. (Have you noticed that the summer Olympics always fall on a U.S. election year? I don’t know about you, but I thank the ancient Greeks for their pioneering love of democracy and competitive sport).

Unlike other sporting events like the soccer World Cup–which obviously focuses on one discipline–the Olympics is a true smörgäsbord of sports (or should I say charcuterie, since it’s being held in France this year?)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that us Americans absolutely dominate the podium standings, sweeping all of the gold medals year after year–despite always being dressed like badly-behaved prep school students at the opening ceremonies by Ralph Lauren. (Really, blue jeans and blazers? Are we on the set of Gossip Girl?)

But not many of us watching at home really appreciate the hard work our athletes put in off-screen to succeed. After all, it takes an (Olympic) village to raise an athlete, and thus so many Olympians start their careers as youngsters, with the help and support of family and friends.

When I was little, my parents encouraged me to participate in a lot of sports; I did soccer, volleyball, basketball, tennis, and even a bit of cross-country at various rec teams and/or school JV squads. Throughout my childhood, I began to realize that I am decidedly average at most sports, with the exception of basketball, which I am absolutely awful at, largely due to my inability to dribble a basketball. This fact seems to amuse folks who are surprised that someone as tall as me (a proud 5 ‘9!) is bad at the shooting hoops business.

At least in soccer, no one was asking me to do special tricks as a–let me fondly look back in my memories– goalkeeper. My job there was just to stop the shots and look angry while I did so, so I looked “in command” of my penalty area, which I did in order to please my over-eager JV middle school soccer coach. (To be honest, I was rarely “in command” of anything; I kept screeching orders to no avail whenever my team had to defend corners).

But hey, let’s give a warm shoutout to all those folks who think that dancing is a sport (like me)! Breakdancing will feature at the Olympics for the first time this summer, albeit 30 odd years late. Now that’s a sport I could get behind: imagine kids getting breakdancing scholarships for college: they’d be the coolest students ever at collegiate winter sports banquets.

Poem of the Week 

The Lonely Street William Carlos Williams School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the streets to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold pink flames in their right hands. In white from head to foot, with sidelong, idle look— in yellow, floating stuff, black sash and stockings— touching their avid mouths with pink sugar on a stick— like a carnation each holds in her hand— they mount the lonely street. 

Andrea Gutierrez is the editor of the Bryan County News.