Are Olympians More Than Their Sport?

As I caught myself watching the Olympic handball competition, I knew I was a big fan of the Olympic Games. I’m all in! I’m sucked into every event and competition (gotta get stuff done but can’t stop watching!). It’s been a joy watching these Olympians compete and learning about their lives and stories. They truly are so much more than their Olympic sport.

That truth hit home for me today, as I walked and was thinking about the now infamous Michael Phelps stank face. Learning about the backstory of so many Olympians got me reflecting on my own childhood and the many sports I enjoyed participating in. Now, I was never Olympic caliber. I was, however, small college caliber, but I simply chose to head towards a major university. After all these years, and many trials, I realized that I somehow forgot about the moment I had to give up something I loved.

I took dance in elementary school (African dance!) and then I was a part of a few dance troops in middle school. I did gymnastics for a bit, and though I didn’t start until high school, I picked it up fairly quickly. I ran track and cheered throughout middle and high school. While I was good at both sports, I loved cheering the most. By the time I reached maybe my sophomore year, I was extremely competitive in the sport of cheerleading and after grueling tryouts made it on the senior team of a competitive cheer squad. (In case you are confused about why I’m calling cheerleading a sport, simply do a quick Google search for the competitions and you’ll get a glimpse of what’s required.)

What I remember from both my dance troop and competitive cheer days is that I had to quit both due to a lack of finances. I specifically recall rather clearly when I learned I would no longer be able to be on the competitive cheer squad. The two coaches brought me in the office privately, they didn’t want to embarrass me in front of the team, and they simply shared that I was too behind on the payments to continue. I don’t know that I realized that we were behind, but I lived in my home so I was aware that we didn’t have a great deal of money. I remember getting in my father’s car and weeping. I was so heartbroken. I loved competing. I loved the team and the girls that I got to compete with. We were good—really good—and it was terrible for my little heart not to get to do what I loved so much because of finances.

Throughout life, I’ve learned to pick up and persevere through obstacles. And thankfully, because of my local public school, I didn’t have to give up cheering. I was able to continue in it. Also, I had the joy of continuing in track and field through my high school team as well. I was a 100-meter hurdler and did the 4×100, 4×200, and, once in a blue moon, the 4×400. I’m short, little, but quick (at least I used to be!!). Our team was one of the best in my hometown. I share this not to toot my own horn, it would be false humility if I shared this and simply said, “I was okay”, but to shed light on the reality that for some, even the potential best, they won’t get the opportunities because of lack—lack of money, transportation, facilities, you name it. Thankfully, I had the support of family and the access to wonderful public schools. But not everyone even has those privileges.

There are so many ways that this post could go and perhaps someday soon I’ll explore: the importance of public assistance, the role of the church in poverty prevention or perhaps intervention, the need for public education in our current system, or even the gift of community pools and facilities that help those little potential athletes have access to pursue various sports. I could also write about why we might not see many minorities in the more expensive sports like golf. And of course, there’s the spiritual element to explore—nothing but Jesus can fully satisfy or fulfill our greatest need.

Those are different posts for another time, so instead I’d like to end where I began. Many of my friends would not have had any idea that I struggled so privately and so deeply as a child. I had a wonderful, joyful upbringing. But we went without quite a bit. And all of us have unique stories that make up who we are.

So during this Olympics I want to learn about the stories of the Olympians. I don’t want to give into simply watching the games and consuming for my own satisfaction. I also don’t also want to guilt you into learning about them either! Discovering that Simone Biles was adopted by her maternal grandfather and his wife gives us great joy knowing the opportunities she has and how deeply loved she is by them. Reading that Yusra Mardini helped save twenty Syrian refugees by swimming while pulling a boat makes us want to jump out of our seat and cheer her to gold; there’s no doubt, she can swim! Or what about Daniel Dias, a paraplegic, who said of his disability and learning that he could swim: “It was God’s way of telling me: ‘This is your gift,’” Daniel says. “’Use it to speak of Me.’”

When you watch and enjoy the Olympics, do so remembering that these image bearers each have a unique story. They’d likely say that their sport is everything to them, I imagine. But they are also more than their sport.

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