Remember Apolo Anton Ohno? Dreamy, roguish speed skater, who won our hearts and gold medals during the 2002 Winter Oly-mpics? No?
Don't feel bad. It's simply the nature of the Olympics viewed through the modern media, which manufactures instant celebrities (admittedly, ones with impressive athletic accomplishments) and then simply tosses them aside once Paris Hilton's dog goes missing.
To some extent, it's a necessity. As much as one would like to take the altruistic standpoint and decry the tawdry nature of this type of coverage, for NBC and their roughly 10 million satellite networks covering the games, it's a huge business. Over 30 million viewers are tuning into the Games, seemingly transfixed by the personality profiles and countless stories of triumph over adversity.
It's all part of the magic of the Olympics, where Americans are interested--or perhaps pretending to be interested--in largely unpopular, obscure sports for two weeks every two years. At any other time, the idea of a family crowding around the TV to watch a well-muscled, five-foot tall guy with the voice of Vanity Smurf spin around a pole a few times would seem absurd. During the Olympics, it's almost un-American not to.
The more typically popular American sports, like baseball, receive almost no coverage (although the U.S. team's failure to qualify certainly has something to do with it). Despite the U.S. basketball team's highly publicized struggles, hoops have never been a main attraction during the summer games either. People seem much more interested in track, swimming, and gymnastics--events that barely manage higher ratings than a "Golden Girls" repeat most of the time.
The more befuddling aspect is how this fascination dies as quickly as it is created. Once Americans decide they're done with the Olympics, no matter how engaging the personality, that's pretty much it for the athletes. Perhaps it's the slightly jingoistic appeal of watching America mop the floor with other countries rather than the athletes themselves. Sure, Michael Phelps' eight medals will likely be as fondly remembered in the annals of Olympic history as Mark Spitz's prior achievements. But what about Carly Patterson? Or Tucson's Amanda Beard (who makes up for being a former Wildcat by being a current babe)? Paul Hamm? Did anyone remember Rulon Gardner's joyous celebration after taking home the gold in Greco-Roman wrestling in 2000? It's likely, yet unfortunate, that they will fall into obscurity much like Mr. Ohno, with perhaps only a cereal box appearance as condolence.
Most of these athletes probably don't even want the type of attention they receive, but it's irresponsible of the media to create these belle du jours just to move on to insignificant matters shortly thereafter. It creates a false sense of importance and trivializes genuine achievements.
The consumers of the media--i.e., us--deserve just as much blame. We're all guilty of wanting something nice and disposable. Emotional investments are so hard to dole out these days. When people only have room in their hearts for James Patterson novels and "CSI: Miami," what hope does some burly dude who does shotput have? It's not like people should spend every waking hour thinking about how great skeet shooting is, but acting like you're interested and then never thinking about it again is a bit disingenuous.
Maybe the athletes do come out the best on this one. Being on a cereal box would be pretty neat, especially if it was Lucky Charms. That stuff is magically delicious.
Albert Ching is a journalism senior. Reach him at albert.ching@asu.edu.
