Going for the Bronze

 

Curmie suspects he’s not alone in having a love/hate relationship with the Olympics, and both parts of that status have manifested themselves this time around.  The doping and spying scandals, the Dutch beach volleyball player who served time for raping a 12-year-old girl, the whoring out to corporate sponsors (too many to choose from), the dumpster fire that was NBC’s coverage of the opening ceremonies (no link here, Gentle Reader, because Curmie likes you)… all of these are good reasons not to care. 

Speaking of that opening, Curmie may or may not write up a few thoughts about that utterly silly, yes, silly, controversy over that alleged affront to Christianity that got a few seconds of air time.  But that’s a topic for another day, if indeed at all.

It is only fair to note that, to NBC’s credit, the insufferable jingoism of earlier Olympics coverage has been toned down to merely annoying, we are no longer subjected to interminable medal ceremonies celebrating Americans, and most of the announcers (especially for sports the average American doesn’t know very well) and hosts not named Mike Tirico have been pretty competent.  Forgetting the irrelevant and puerile squeals of Kelly Clarkson and the narcissistic and ultra-nationalistic bleatings of Peyton Manning (what the hell were either of them even doing there?) at the opening ceremonies will be difficult, but overall, this is the best NBC has done in decades.

The Olympics have been corrupted in innumerable ways since Curmie was a wee lad, but there are moments that will forever endure.  Simone Biles and Katie Ledecky had nothing to prove—both were already the GOATs of their respective sports—but they proved it anyway.  There were, of course, memorable efforts by non-Americans: Léon Marchand, Ariarne Titmus, Summer McIntosh, Tom Pidcock, the South Korean archery team, et al.  But all those gold medalists were expected to win; indeed, anything less would be a profound disappointment.

Curmie is well aware that there is a special kind of pressure to win when a silver medal would be considered a failure, and he’d really like to have trademarked the line “go for the gold,” but today he wants to talk about two American athletes who were rightfully thrilled to clinch a bronze medal for their team, not least because of the dramatic manner in which that was accomplished.  As Curmie writes this, only a couple of track and field events have been completed, and there’s still a long way to go before medals are awarded in sports like basketball, volleyball, and soccer.  But irrespective of what happens over the next few days, these third-place finishes will be near if not at the top of Curmie’s memories.

There have, of course, been some great stories of athletes who achieved individual bronze: women’s gymnastics alone has given us Suni Lee, Jade Carey, and Jordan Chiles, all of whom have personal as well as team-related reasons to call the Paris Olympics their “redemption tour.”  But the ones who clinch a team medal where there hasn’t been one in a long time… or ever… these are the ones that will stay in our minds for many a year.

First up, then, is Stephen Nedoroscik, a.k.a. Pommel Horse Guy.  His story is most fun because of who he is: a self-identified nerd who seems as proud of his speed in the Rubix Cube (under 10 seconds) as in his skills on the horse.  And when Curmie says “on the horse,” that’s it.  He does one event, whereas his teammates are all-arounders, and there was no little sniping from the pundits (including more than one who are now gushing about him) about including a one-event specialist on the team. 

On the sidelines, he meditates, seemingly oblivious in the goings-on around him.  He looks like a stereotypical nebbish, complete with Clark Kent glasses… until he takes off his warm-up jacket.  Yes, that’s the upper body of an athlete.  And then the glasses come off as he prepares his mount.  He says he “sees” the horse with his hands, not his eyes.  (One is tempted to wonder if eyesight is as much of a reason as innate skill for why Nedoroscik doesn’t compete in events like vault and bars.)

By the luck of the draw, the US team found itself on the pommel horse as their last event in the team final.  And Nedoroscik batted clean-up, the last American to compete.  He could secure the American men’s team its first medal in 16 years, or he could fail.  The routines at the Olympic level are by definition extremely difficult; two medal contenders in the event final a few days later fell off the apparatus altogether.  The pressure had to have been enormous.  And he nailed it.  The US medal wasn’t gold, but it was pretty special.

The only thing keeping this performance from being even more special was the fact that he didn’t actually need the metaphoric home run he hit, NBC analyst and former team gold medalist and pommel horse bronze medalist Tim Daggett said “ironically, he needs to hit a double… no, he needs a single… he needs to get on base.  He could take a walk; just don’t get out.”  He hit it out of the park, anyway.  And the meme-meisters went into high gear.

But if Nedoroscik didn’t need to be quite Clark Kent/Superman, Alex “Spiff” Sedrick pretty much had to be superhuman in the bronze medal match of the women’s rugby 7s.  Her personal story doesn’t have quite the allure of Nedoroscik’s quiet assassin schtick, but she is an unlikely heroine.  She was in her first Olympics, and is one of the smallest, if not indeed the smallest, member of the team in a sport in which size and strength are valuable commodities.  The face of the team in both Tokyo and Paris has been Ilona Maher, who’s 5’10” and 200 pounds; Sedrick is 5’3”, 137.

But both the play itself and the timing were extraordinary.  The US team had been pretty well crushed by eventual champion New Zealand in the semi-finals, and Australia was upset by Canada.  That meant that in the bronze medal game the US Eagles faced the pre-tournament favorite when the Aussies were undoubtedly a bit pissed off at the world.  Curmie was not optimistic.

Surprisingly, the Americans kept it close at 7-7 until with only about a half a minute left, Australia scored a try.  The only good news from the US perspective was that it was nearer the sideline than to the center of the pitch, making the conversion attempt more difficult; the kick did indeed sail to the left of the uprights.  Still, the Eagles trailed 12-7 with time quickly dwindling away.

The kick went deep into the US end, and the vaunted Australian defense seemed to have the American squad pinned a very long way from the try line.  Until they didn’t.  Rupert Cox, NBC’s play-by-play guy, called it thusly: “They’re going to have to go the distance here if they’re going to take this one to Golden Point [extra time].  Ilona Maher.  Ramsey.  Sedrick.”  Just then, with seven seconds remaining on the clock, Sedrick side-stepped one defender and, to use a phrase Curmie stole from some sports reporter (Curmie regrets that he can’t find the link to include here), “absolutely molly-whopped” another.

Cox then delivered what will surely be one of the most-remembered lines in Olympic TV coverage since Dick Bank’s “Look at Mills!  Look at Mills!” in the men’s 10,000 in 1964.  Cox exclaimed, “Spiff Sedrick’s AWAY!”  Sedrick made it only to midfield as time ran out, but the play in process could proceed, and she carried the ball straight down the middle of the field, diving over the try line after a 90-meter gallop, finishing with the grin you see at the top of this entry.  There was some confusion about the conversion, as Sedrick thought for a moment that she’d already won the match, and the normal kicker was on the sideline.  With only a few seconds remaining to attempt the kick, however, Sedrick nailed the conversion herself, and the first Olympic medal for American rugby in literally a century was secured by a final score of 14-12. 

Rugby, especially women’s rugby, got a huge boost in this country, and not just because Michele Kang donated $4 million to the cause.  Ordinary people, folks who’ll never make that kind of money in their entire lives, let alone be able to give it away, are going to check out the sport and follow the Eagles; some young girls (and boys, too, Curmie suspects) are going to find the sport that engages them.

Nike has been running a series of reprehensible commercials under the slogan “Winning Isn’t for Everyone,” suggesting that even a second-place finish is somehow shameful, or a sign of inadequate mental or physical toughness.  These ads appear regularly on coverage of the Olympics, which has since its origins purported to be about the competition, not the victories.  Yes, that sloganeering shows little relationship to the reality of the overwhelmingly commercialized and politicized fortnight and change, but the residue of the original intent remains.  We even see it manifested occasionally in congratulations and condolences between competitors, and that’s a good thing.

The medal Spiff Sedrick secured for herself and her teammates wasn’t gold, but the moment was nothing if not golden, and we’ll see the video replayed again and again for years to come.  She proved the acuity of the great twentieth-century philosopher Yogi Berra’s observation that “it ain’t over ‘til it’s over,” underscoring what should have been Nike’s message: there is no shame in not being the very best, but sometimes you can shock the world if you don’t give up.  Sedrick is something of a reverse Batman: Curmie isn’t sure this fractured nation deserves her, but she is very definitely the heroine we need.