August 24, 2008 4:59 AM
A.M./P.M.: The Blank Canvas
I saw a Malaysian boxer last night bow to all four corners of the
Worker's Gymnasium as hundreds of Malaysians sang out their
national anthem, and I wondered what it was that they loved about their
country.I saw Ukrainians raise their flag, screaming out "OOH-CRY-EEE-NAH!" again and again as their gold medalist took the podium, and I wondered what it was that they loved about their country.
I saw a Dominican boxer take a victory lap of the stadium, a Chinese flag draped across his back, as a pack of Dominican fans roared his name, and I wondered what it was that they loved about their country.
Then the canvas went blank. The volunteers wiped down the ring. A Cuban boxer and a British boxer stood in the tunnel, about to enter the stadium. The stadium was quiet; the ring, nothing more than a blank slate.
That's when I remembered what it is I love about my country.
For the last eight months, I have lived outside of the United States, first enjoying six months studying abroad in Spain, and then coming to Beijing for the final two. I've spent a little less than two full weeks in the U.S. this year.
Never before have I attempted something so absurd and so stupid. For a kid who's just turned 21 and who'd never been outside the U.S. for more than three consecutive weeks at one time, eight months spent studying and traveling to three different continents -- if you include a weekend in Morocco -- is a wildly ambitious trip.
But when you throw in a good four months of fighting the Chinese while trying to land press credentials, the whole thing only becomes more absurd.
As the Olympics close today, I'm facing this weird realization that this week, I have to reboot my life. I'm 21 years old. I'm going to be a senior in college. I'm young, optimistic and mostly clueless. This is a dangerous combination.
But what I was reminded of on Saturday night at the boxing venue was
just how extraordinary the journey to Beijing has been. As I waited last night for a Cuban and a Brit to leave their
mark on the Olympics, the crowd went quiet with anticipation. In a few minutes, each of
these men was going to get their stage, to get that opportunity that so
few of us really have not just to be great but to become great.For these athletes, getting to Beijing has required talent, perseverance and a whole lot of luck. I'd like to think my journey here has been similar, minus the whole "talent" thing.
I do not know why I have been so lucky, and I do not know if I deserve it. But I have been given infinite opportunities the last eight months, not least among them the opportunity to write for you here on this blog. By no means would I call this blog great. But it's certainly been fun to create, and that's not a bad start.
So to you, the readers, for listening, for reading, for commenting: thank you for allowing me this stage.
Still, there's one more great thing about being 21 and soon-to-returning to a country that -- among Chinese, Spaniards and just about everyone else I've met during these eight months -- has this reputation as opportunity personified:
It's that even when I've come this far, it still all feels like I'm just getting started.
It's 7 p.m. in Beijing, and 5 a.m. in Denver. The Olympics are over, aside from the Closing Ceremonies, so here are your final Olympic headlines from this Sunday evening/morning:
>IOC president Jacques Rogge enters a new realm of ambiguity: "The world has learned (about) China and China has learned about the world."
>I've said it before, and I'll say it again: in a country without a free press, this is headline news.
>The Chinese press is thrilled that the lip-synching girl from the Opening Ceremonies has been Googled so often, but they're not sure why she's so popular.
>Fuwas are not getting scrutinized by subway security.
>The Washington Post compares the Olympics to magic elves.
>FYI: We'll be finishing up a few left over items from these Games, so stay tuned to the Rocky's post-Olympics Blog for the next couple of days. We're not done just yet.
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