For Wilshire Baptist Church
The Winter Olympics are on and the only thing flying faster and higher than the skiers and skaters is the hyperbole to describe their amazing feats.
I love the Winter Olympics, probably more than the summer games, but I do tire of some of the broadcasting daredevilry that peppers the performances. Everything is “incredible” and “amazing” and “unbelievable” and “unprecedented” and “unparalleled” all the way up to “the greatest of all time – the GOAT.”
It’s the same in other sports. There was plenty of GOAT citing last week when Tom Brady announced his retirement from professional football, and that is probably a correct title to pin on him statistically. There’s no arguing his records and his talent, although he did benefit from coaches who schemed to his strengths, receivers who caught his passes, and linemen who blocked for him and kept him healthy and durable. So yes, let’s name him the GOAT . . . for football . . . for now.
But football is just a game, just a sport, just an entertainment. The same could be said for the Olympics. The events really are exciting and beautiful to watch, but the athletes are not doing anything they must do or that we need them to do. Touchdowns and salchows have no crossover application in everyday life. Football only has a hall of fame because fans with money wanted it to be. Electricians and HVAC techs might have halls of fame too if they had fans with money to burn and true admiration for their much-needed skills. I mention those trades because I’ve called on them in recent weeks; I haven’t needed to call a quarterback or a snowboarder.
The same week Brady was retiring, Roger Staubach celebrated his 80th birthday. He was the GOAT in his day and he’s in the hall of fame now, but that’s all about football. What’s he done for anyone lately? Well . . . from all reports we know that he’s been a loving husband, father and grandfather; a successful and generous business man and community leader. Football brought him fame, but his most lasting accomplishments have been off the field where there is no hall of fame for parenting or business building or just being decent and kind.
I’m not saying there shouldn’t be gold medals and halls of fame for athletic achievement. I’m just suggesting perhaps the attention is better focused on what athletes have done to get to that point of achievement, and then what they do after their day in the spotlight is over. The Olympic broadcasts do a good job of telling those back stories of hardships and challenges that have been overcome with hard work, discipline, courage and unstoppable persistence. That’s where the person we see flying down the giant slalom becomes most relatable.
That’s also where we see the true reality of life: For the majority of athletes, that same level of commitment and discipline doesn’t pay off with medals and inductions because there is injury or lack of funds or always someone just a little bit better. But that same drive can find its way into a post-athletic life that is full of wonderful accomplishments and achievements without the public accolades and adoration.
And that’s where most of us live. Most of our occupations don’t have halls of fame or medal podiums. Nobody comes to watch us work and cheer us on. We do it because we are called to do it; sometimes we do it simply because we need to feed our families, and because others need us to do it for them as well.
My fondest memory of Roger Staubach is not the fabled “Hail Mary” pass or him being “Roger the Dodger” on an icy Sunday afternoon. Rather, it is seeing him walking down the hallway at Prairie Creek Elementary where my mother was a teacher. It was a weeknight open house at the school, and Staubach was there just being a little girl’s’ dad. I’m betting that to her, he was and still is the GOAT.