Good Sports

We have been enjoying the Olympics. Most nights we settle in and watch those incredible athletes do everything from fling themselves perfectly around the uneven bars to crashing their lovely 41-year-old bodies through the water to Olympic silver and gold. It is such a thrill to see the pride and joy on their faces as they see their dreams come true. The teamwork is amazing to me - those who work together seem to be extensions of each other; they know the game so well that they anticipate with full confidence what their partners will do.

I watch the moms - Michael Phelps' falls to the floor and Usain Bolt's mama laughed and ran around until I thought she would burst. (Is the fastest man in the world really named Bolt??!) All the practices those parents must have taken their kids to, the support, the cheering, the encouragement - to see it come to fruition in such a way must be overwhelming. I know how I feel when I watch Madeleine on the basketball court or with the band, flute to her mouth.

I wonder how it feels to know your record has been broken. I wonder how Mark Spitz feels now that Michael Phelps has done just a little bit better. I read that he was rather insulted that no one bothered to invite him to the games to watch this happen. I think he would have been proud and I would have liked to have seen him there.

To be the elite - how cool!