Fri, 5 Aug 2016, 8:00 pm: Soon after my first Europe trips I started paying real attention to the Olympics. Growing up I was into music, not sports, so the only Olympic influence on my life was made by the theme songs, not the athletes. I couldn’t name one skier or swimmer or tell you how many medals any country won, but I could tell you which Olympics single was charting on adult contemporary and on top 40.
In my decade as a Europe visitor I’ve come to love watching the Olympics. I still don’t care about sports in general, but for sixteen days every two years I program my DVR and soak up hour after hour after hour of hot nation-on-nation action. (Sure, I end up watching 64% of it in fast-forward, because— hey, I can be honest here— not even that rower’s mommy is going to sit through the fifth heat of the third preliminary opening semi-final quasi-elimination qualifying round.) It’s a chance for me to be there with my favorite foreign countries in between actual trips.
Naturally, my excitement is somewhat diminished when the Games are not held in Europe. I’m not running “Matt, Take Me to Beijing,” after all. But Rio seems like a fun place. I’m still in.
So Friday night I’m keyed up for the kickoff. The big party on NBC the night before the first day of the Games is probably when I’m the most hyped. I love the cheesy yet sincere video montages that introduce the athletes, their backstories, and their nervous/proud/cash-strapped-because-the-IOC-doesn’t-pay-for-loved-ones-to-fly-to-the-event families. I love the mini-documentaries about the host country, the attributes of which will inform and deepen the entire Olympic experience. I love the local volunteers who turn out in the thousands to wave flags, dance in formation, carry minimalist models of ships around on their backs, and bounce around a mammoth Tetris game come to life that dominates the floor of an arena. I love marveling that maybe this host country wouldn’t be poor if they hadn’t spent three times their GDP on two minutes worth of fireworks.
Wade through the confetti, blink through the laser show, and shove your hip back into its socket after the manic dancing, and enjoy the heart of any opening ceremonies: the Parade of Nations, when athletes from each of the 206 countries take a proud stroll to display their flag, wave to countrymen in the stands, and take endless selfies. (Dude, there are more cameras in here than grains of sand on Copacabana Beach, plus you’re going out live to billions on tv. I’m pretty sure somebody can send you pics of your big moment. Put the cell phone down and enjoy this moment that few people ever get and that you will never have again.)
I’ve taught high school English and theatre. As I watched the big production Friday evening, my years as a teacher inspired a comparison to the Olympics’ opening ceremonies.
Watching the Parade of Nations is similar to attending graduation at the school where you work. You know before the thing starts that there are several you’re going to leap up and scream happily for because in the time you spent with them they made you feel appreciated, reminded you of what’s important in life, and touched your heart. There are quite a few you clap loudly for because in your limited exposure to them they were pleasant and friendly and you wish you’d had more opportunity to get to know them better. There are a handful you’ve only read about but your co-workers speak well of them, so you applaud a bit. There are some that haven’t really impressed you but you clap politely because somebody who loves them is sitting near you and you don’t want to seem rude. And after the first hour you may slip out for a bathroom break when the announcers reach a string of names you don’t know and, at this point, you’re probably not ever going to have much reason to care about them.
Cheering for my favorite countries has become a biannual ritual. Let me give you my Parade of Matt Nations that really got me going this past Friday.
Rest assured, I always cheer for my home team. My love of traveling outside this country takes nothing away from my love of living here and my pride in being able to call myself American.
Some of you were caught off guard when the USA came up early in the procession this time. Yep, in Portuguese we start with an “E,” not a “U,” and the parade is always in alphabetical order according to the host country’s alphabet. Hope you weren’t on the potty when Phelps and Associates marched out.
The same principle has kept me waiting and waiting and waiting two Olympics in a row for my favorite non-American country.
Those elusive Czechs! At the London Games in 2012, they came out when you figured they would: with the other “C” countries. Then in 2014, Russia’s cyrillic alphabet moved ’em all the way to the near end. It was like waiting for Alexis in the opening credits of DYNASTY. “WTF? Joan Collins doesn’t get top billing? Oh, right, yes, because they save her for the big finish: ‘and Joan Collins as Alexis’ as the trumpets blare their highest note.”
Poland! Poland arrived exactly when we knew they would. Poland holds two Matt-lympic records. (1) Quickest country to make me feel at home. Within a few minutes of arrival on my very first visit, I was comfortable in Poland. I knew nothing of the street geography yet took almost no wrong turns. No one I knew back home had ever been there and my only contacts there were casual internet acquaintances, yet before an hour passed I made several friends— and quite a few more by the end of the first night. I spoke no Polish words besides “beer,” “how much?”, and “thank you,” yet I communicated effectively and understood almost everything in return. I instantly loved the food, the drinks, and the people. (2) Shortest time between returns. My first trip to Poland was at the end of 2013. I was back seven months later.
One of the announcers during the women’s long distance cycle race on Sunday said that the worst place to finish in the Olympics is fourth. Well, I might disagree, because I have lots of affection for the country that got the fourth-most cheering out of me during the Parade of Nations.
Great Britain is arguably America’s greatest international ally, so I’d raise a glass to them just for that. Additionally, London is my second most visited foreign city and was the very first one on my very first Europe trip. Forever a giant place in my heart. Go, Brits, go!
The Netherlands is stocked with some of the warmest people I’ve ever met. I’ve been there twice so far and, on each occasion, in every town I explored, there were gracious faces to approach in every store and every restaurant. Engaging conversations could be instigated anywhere. Friends I made there were often random and always sincere. I hope the Dutch will be as happy to see me when I go back as I know I’ll be to see them.
Here comes the most recent arrival to the Olympics party in my heart.
I’ve got so many stories to share about my recent week in Croatia. The country exceeded my positive expectations in all respects. For now, let me just lock ’em into the #6 slot in my Olympics parade.
There are other countries I like a lot, but those are the ones that got the most yah-yahs out of me during the Parade of Nations.
It was well past midnight before the on-site Olympic flame was finally lit and I could finally go to bed. I loved the opening ceremonies and all, but c’mon. I gotta sleep. There’s a packed slate of Games tomorrow!
