9201050891
DETROIT FREE PRESS
920209
Sunday, February 09, 1992
METRO FINAL
1E
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1992, Detroit Free Press
OLYMPICS THE STUFF DREAMS ARE MADE OF
ALBERTVILLE, France -- I am retiring from the Olympics.
This will be my last Games as a competitor. It's been a wonderful career,
but it's time to let the kids have a chance.
I will never forget my first medal, in 1964, when, at age six, I became
the youngest person to win an Olympic gold in basketball. Making that
last-second shot was really a thrill for me, and when my teammates carried me
off on their shoulders, and even the Russian players congratulated me, well, I
have to say, it brings a tear to my eye.
And how can I ever forget 1968, Mexico City, when I took the gold in the
100-meter dash? I was only 10, and nobody gave me a chance. But I knew, deep
down, that all it took was hard work and dreams, and I told myself this every
time I raced down the street in front of my house, clicking the stopwatch as
I crossed the imaginary finish line. Hard work and dreams. An Olympic medal.
In 1972, I boxed my way to glory, becoming the youngest person ever to win
a gold in the ring. It was a tough fight against the Cuban legend, Teofilo
Stevenson, and only the sight of my family waving the flag and yelling "USA!
USA!" kept me going in that final round. I don't know where I found the
strength for that last knockout punch, but when he crumpled, I knew I had done
it. I was 14 years old. It felt really great.
"USA! USA! USA!"
In 1976, of course, I shifted to the Winter Olympics and surprised
everyone by winning the Olympic downhill ski race, just nipping Franz Klammer
by three-tenths of a second. I felt kind of bad about that, since the Games
were in Austria, his homeland. But when Franz threw his arm around me and
said, "You haz beaten me like ze true champion, my young American friend, now
let us have ze beer together!" well, gosh, I thought that was the nicest
thing. I was only 18 and had just taken up skiing, but I worked hard, and
that's all it takes.
In 1980, at Lake Placid, I won the luge as a 22-year-old rookie. I don't
know how I did it. But then, being on a sled, most of my memories are a blur.
I do remember Al Michaels calling me "the second miracle on ice." That was
cute.
In 1984, I had what I consider my greatest Olympic moment. It's not often
that a 26-year-old man can turn his jogging habit into a spot in the Olympic
marathon. But every night when I went for my run in the park, I closed my eyes
and thought "Olympics, Olympics" -- and suddenly, there I was, at the
starting line in Los Angeles. And from the gun, I went all out. I remember
passing the kids in Watts, who were cheering me on, and the rich folks in
Beverly Hills, who honked their car horns. I was really sucking air when I
came down that home stretch in downtown LA. My body ached, my legs were
screaming, I was dizzy and nauseous and about to pass out -- but somehow I
found the strength to lunge at the tape and just beat that Australian by .02
seconds. I could hear Frank Shorter, the ABC commentator, yelling,
"UNBELIEVABLE! HE'S 26 YEARS OLD AND NEVER RACED IN A MARATHON BEFORE! USA!
USA! USA!"
Of course, that would be the last time I would compete for my home
country.
"Samoa! Samoa! Samoa!"
In 1988, I had my first Olympic controversy when I chose to ski jump for
Brazil, since my grandmother was Brazilian. A lot of people were disappointed,
but I was 30 years old, and it would have been hard to make the U.S. team in
anything anymore. Brazil is not known for its ski jumpers -- I was the only
one ever -- but, hey, it got me to Calgary. And that was some jump I had to
win the gold, wasn't it?
And here I am today, as the sole member of the American Samoa bobsled
team. I moved there last year, to qualify for citizenship. OK, it's a little
weird. But yesterday, at age 34, I marched in the Opening Ceremonies, and I
still felt proud.
And after Albertville, I retire. When people ask about my career, I'll
say I was really no different from the average American guy. Starting as
children, every four years, we tell ourselves we can still get in the
Olympics, if we just start working right now and don't stop. As our hair gets
thinner and our waistlines thicker, we change sports, we give up on basketball
and imagine ourselves on the luge -- but we still keep dreaming.
And that's what the Olympics are all about, aren't they? Dreams? I guess
mine are just a little more real than most. I sure am proud of my gold medals.
And I hope to take one more in the bobsled next week. It'll be tough, I know.
But when I close my eyes, I see myself on the victory stand.
And that's always been a good sign.
1992 WINTER OLYMPICS; HISTORY