My family will all tell you that I am not a sports fan — and at the risk of alienating three-fourths of the men and women in this county, I let this information out.
On Monday mornings after a great baseball, football, basketball, or a soccer weekend, I will never be able to join in the coffee-time rehash of the game. I blame it on my father because he never enjoyed sports either and therefore didn’t pass it on to any of his kids. It’s a funny thing this sports “gene.”
My two sons inherited my indifference, but our girls both played sports in high school and even college. Go figure.
I risk this embarrassing revelation to tell about a new found interest — the Olympics. Have they always been this great? Is this heart-stopping competition what keeps you Eagles and Phillies fans coming back year after year and causes you to wear funny hats and gather around the T.V. hour after hour cheering for your team?
Maybe it’s the big screen television but I really think that I am so entranced with the games because of the athletes themselves. Who can watch these magnificent young people without being captivated? Their incredible discipline to endure years of practice while many kids are just “hanging out” is amazing … discipline that few of us have as adults.
Think of the 16-year-old Jacqueline Johnson and the maturity that was evident as she accepted the gold medal for her work on the balance beam and not for the best all-around gymnast, which she had been so hoping to win. Disappointment was so gracefully endured.
The American women’s volleyball team of Kerri Walsh and Misty May-Treanor kept us at rapt attention as they throttled that ball to victory over Brazil and then the Chinese home team. Those women epitomized strength in team playing rather than individualized grandstanding. What excitement built as they won every game they played until they reached the gold.
Probably for the first time in my life I have been reading the sports page. Again, I confess that section of the paper has always gone right into the recycling bin, but not in these weeks of the Olympics. Now I find myself reading the stories of the day’s events with as much interest as any long-time Eagles fan.
Don’t you feel blessed to be called American when you hear our national anthem being played, even for the eighth time for incredible swimmer Michael Phelps? That man can focus. He set out to win eight golds and that is just what he did. For all you kids who have gone through teasing in school as Michael said he did, take satisfaction by accomplishing great goals in your life.
Now here is the story that really won my heart because the young man Henry Cejudo feels about our country the way I do. He loves it unabashedly. Born to undocumented Mexican parents and growing up with almost none of the things that most American kids take for granted, Henry nonetheless won a gold medal in wrestling for the country he knows is his own. “The United States is the land opportunity, and I’m so glad I can represent it.”

No one could doubt the truth of that statement as he paraded with our beautiful flag draped across his shoulders in a victory dance.
Now as football season approaches, do you think I can find all this drama to keep me tuned to the screen? Will I really become a sports fan and gather around the coffee pot with all the Monday- morning quarterbacks, or will I have to wait another four years to activity my sports “gene?’

ART HALL, publisher