Emotional Olympics

I was asked why do I tear up when I see someone win, or lose, or simply compete at the Olympics?

I answered: not because I am a man, a Canadian, but because I am human.

Understand, it’s not the race, game, competition being watched; it is the person who sacrificed years of their life and are a part of something greater than themselves. How they’ve put their body through brutal trial after brutal trial until it either breaks, or it breaks through. Breaks through to the magic moment, of glory. Not just for the one golden, but for that soul coming in last who still feels a profound sense of accomplishment that he or she was there, giving their all. And anyone knows, 12th in the world, is 12 of seven billion… that is damn good!

Not just tears either… I’ve joined my country in screaming at the ref during the women’s soccer game, disappointment of what should have been a move on to the gold medal game. But still, still, always, always profoundly proud of their effort and their bronze medal.

Oh but the deepest emotional strike for me is how after the spent athletes finish, after they’ve given their all, they look up to see their loved one’s tears. How no matter first or last. Someone, including me, is proud of them.

That is why, tears find my eyes…

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