Shuffling Around

One the the things that was boxed up and shipped with my belongings when I moved to Australia was my pair of tap shoes.

Like many girls, I took both tap and ballet classes growing up.  I stopped them when I determined that, despite my fairy-tale dreams, I was not destined to be a professional dancer.  This is for two main reasons:  (1) I am not built to be a dancer, my center of gravity is in the wrong place, and perhaps more importantly, (2) I lack natural rhythm and timing.

Those reasons aside, I love tap dancing.  I admitted before I choreographed a tap-dance routine to the rhythm of the copier in my office (and I really enjoyed practicing it when I wore shoes that had a hard sole so that I could mimic the sounds of tap shoes).  Prior to Hurricane Katrina, I decided I wanted to get back into tap dancing -- all recreational, no recitals with no pressure to perform in front of people.  I just wanted to have fun, and maybe get some exercise I actually enjoyed.  I enquired of no less than 20 dance schools in and around New Orleans as to whether they offered adult, recreational tap classes.  Not one of them did.  I was astounded.  I was willing to throw money at them, and they did not want it.  I finally found an adult tap class offered by the Parish Rec Center and enrolled on the spot.  A week into the term, I began to look forward to my Saturday morning tap classes.  I was having great fun.  

The gym that was home to the classes was destroyed by a tornado that tore through the area in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, and the classes were no longer offered.  All the same, I kept my tap shoes on the shelf in my closet, and when I packed up my stuff for moving around the world, I deemed the shoes worthy of being included in the shipment.  A few weeks ago, I was cleaning up in my bedroom and saw the tap shoes on the closet shelf.  On an admittedly dilatory whim, I put on the shoes and headed to the kitchen and started tapping out a routine.  

That was all it took.  My feet had a bad case of dance fever.  And I was not going to be satisfied with infrequent try-ons and play-sessions.  I wanted tap classes.  Off I went to the Internet to see if such a thing was offered anywhere around my new home.  Lo and behold!  There was!!

Recreational adult tap classes are offered by a dance studio within walking distance of my house on Monday nights.  Even better, the studio offered a try-it-before-you-buy-it session.  I headed to the first session of the new term and was hooked.  I am still not built to be a dancer, and neither my natural rhythm nor timing have improved since I was a teenager, but I still love tap dancing.  

It's been a while and the steps are slowly coming back to my brain and my feet, but I am having a great time.  The tap shoes have not been back on the closet shelf and it looks like they may not for quite a time.

Winning, Not Losing

"This is one of two 1 minute-30 [second] periods in her life where she can produce something extraordinary."

That was the quote from one of the announcers, building up to an Australian gymnast's floor routine in the Women's Team All-Around Competition.

I understand the desire to make moments in the Olympic more dramatic for the viewers at home.  But really, does the announcer honestly expect us to believe that this 17-year old will never amount to anything more than a wanna-be-gold-medalist?  She will never graduate from college?  She will never get married?  Never have children?  Never stand in her kitchen and make a fantastic dinner for unexpected company from nothing but end-of-the-week pantry staples?  Never donate her time to a charity?  Never do something for someone with nothing expected in return?  In the rest of her life she never have a moment to be extraordinary again?  Really?  Really????

Someone should be taxing the Olympic announcers/color commentators for their use of hyperbole.  Yes, it is dramatic.  Sports by their very nature are dramatic.  The drama is there for the broadcasting, it does not need to be enhanced or manufactured by announcers in need of something to say.  The drama comes from the events themselves -- there will always be someone who finishes first, someone who scores more points, or someone who goes further.

But that does not mean the person who finishes immediately behind the first finisher has lost, they have come in second.  Second place is not LOSING a gold medal, it's WINNING a silver medal.  Football teams in the US are fond of saying "On any given Sunday, any team can beat any other team."  It's the nature of sports.  The best competitor is the one that performs best on that day, at that moment.  That does not mean that coming in second is losing.

As I have gotten older, my patience for poor losers has worn thin.  But what I have discovered with this Olympics is by and large it's not the athletes who annoy me with complaints that they lost, it's the announcers and press brainwashing people into the belief that finishing with anything less than a World Record Gold Medal is a loss.

One of the stories covered before the Olympics started was that of a pregnant Malaysian shooter.  Her competition was on the first day of the games.  She finished 34th of 56 shooters, out of consideration to move forward to the next round.  Her Olympics were over before noon on the first day.  She was thrilled she did that well.  She was not a loser.  She was a winner.

Her story was not covered after the Olympics started.  Once she was out in the first round -- once she had lost -- her story was no longer dramatic or newsworthy.  The chance for column-inches greatness was gone.  The fact that she was not unhappy with her results doesn't matter.  To the commentators, it ceased to be dramatic and therefore not worth discussing.

The Olympic Creed reads:

The most important thing in Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle.  The essential thing is not to have conquered, but to have fought well.

I think many of the commentators need a reminder of that.