nyny

olympics #3

The Olympics are officially over, and I now officially owe my sister $50.

Back in middle school, I insisted that I would one day be an Olympian. It was a foregone conclusion; I didn't even entertain the possibility that I wouldn't one day attend the Opening Ceremonies, hang out in the Athletes' Village, and maybe, hopefully, come home with a medal. We ended up making an official (or as official as a 12 or 13 year old can make it) contract, which stated that I would pay her $50 if I did not compete in the Olympic Games by 2008. I'm sure I was mostly aiming for the Summer Games, which gave me 1996, 2000, 2004 and 2008 to make my move, but I think we left the contract open to appearances in Winter Olympics as well.

She's mentioned this contract from time to time, usually saying something like "only 3 more years until you have to pay me $50." When this happens, I usually pretend that I don't know what she's talking about. I say something about vaguely remembering some sort of summer competition between us, and then I try to convince her that she's made the rest of it up, and that I would never make a bet like that. When she persists, I say smugly something along the lines of, "Ok, fine. It's not true, but whatever. I'll go with it if you're going to insist on being delusional. Produce the contract and prove it, and I'll pay up." This was always the ace in my pocket because I knew there was no way she would have kept this contract for over a decade.

Fast forward to two weeks ago. My mom was in town for about 18 hours because of flight delays and a long layover at JFK. She stayed at my house overnight, and we spent the evening watching the Olympics. At one point she said, "You know, you owe your sister fifty bucks." I laughed and couldn't believe she remembered our bet. Then I told her, in the same smug way I always told my sister, that if Sarah can produce the contract, I'll gladly pay her. It was quiet for a few seconds, and then my mom piped up and said, "Your father has the contract."

I couldn't believe it. Apparently my father has a little box on top of his dresser where he keeps papers, trinkets, odds and ends. Our contract has been sitting in that dang box for 13 or 14 years. I was practically beside myself; I was in such a state of disbelief. I mean, I really can't believe he kept it all these years. How did he even get it? I have no idea about that, but if I had to guess, the sad thing is that I probably gave it to him for safekeeping so that my sister couldn't back out after I finished my Olympic run. Woops.

On a separate but related note, I actually played high school basketball against Oganna Nnami, one of the members of our silver medal winning indoor volleyball team! I recognized her immediately when I saw her on TV. When you come from a small midwestern town where the only black kid was a foster kid, it sort of sticks in your mind when you play against a girl named Oganna Nnami who can dunk as a sophomore or junior in high school. I think it goes without saying that her team always beat ours. I was telling a friend the other day that I feel like I did my part towards the American Olympic effort. I contributed to her athletic development by providing competition, which as any athlete knows not only builds skill, but character as well. I felt like, in my own little way, I had the tiniest little bit to do with their silver medal effort. Yesterday I realized that maybe I can use this reasoning to campaign that I, by extention, did actually compete in the Olympics by 2008. I don't think that will work, but it's worth a shot.

posted by becka @ 11:12 AM