Bottle Caps on Strings – A Dad’s Reflection on the Olympics

I’m not a huge sports fan. Now don’t get me wrong. In high school I played football, basketball, and track. Thinking swimming was an easy sport, I even joined the swim team my junior year and tried to quit after the first practice – (Hey, I’m a sinker!)

The truth is, I just don’t like watching others hit a ball, smash into each other, or scratch themselves on TV. My brother, who seriously considered naming his first son ESPN, shakes his head in disbelief and shame whenever the subject comes up.

However, all that said, I do love the Olympics. I love the excitement that hangs in the air as athletes from all over the globe gather to test their abilities against each other, while couch potatoes across the country assume their position in front of the TV to watch.

Like most Americans, I have an Olympic moment that will be etched forever in my memory. Unlike most Americans though, it has little to do with an actual event. Of course, there are those unforgettable moments in modern Olympic history that we’ll all remember.

We’ll be reminded often of them throughout this year’s television coverage. Scenes will flash across the screen accompanied by patriotic orchestration. We’ll see Mark Spitz hold a muscular arm out of the water in triumph of his seventh gold metal. Red, white and blue jerseys will fill the TV screen as the USA hockey team piles up in the center of the ice after winning the gold. And, who could forget the trembling hero, Mohammed Ali, lighting the Olympic torch at the Atlanta summer games. Even the Nancy Kerrigan/Tonya Harding scandal will go down in history, along with American gymnast Kerri…what’s her last name, hobbling on one leg while staring down the runway as her coach shouts, “You can do it Kerri!”

And she did, to the cheers of every American watching. Those moments, and a hundred like them, will be remembered long after the names have been forgotten. But, my memory is one that is most likely shared by no one.

I’m not even sure what event it was, except there was snow and the woman had on skis. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t downhill skiing because there is no mountain in this memory. The Olympian’s name is unknown and maybe that’s best, but the words she said over the airwaves will never be forgotten by this dad.

What made it all the more poignant was that it was preceded by a little docudrama of the Olympian’s life. The cameras took us to her home and gave us a glimpse of her routine and typical work out. Playing to the audience, they showed us the woman’s young son, who looked no older than three at the time. He was blonde headed and had all the energy of a toddler. He giggled, laughed, and melted the hearts of the viewers.

Oddly, he was most often seen with an unidentified woman who cared for him, while his mom was training for the gold. And train she did. Her face was hardened by the cold, wind, and sun from years of being outside. Her muscles were tight, and the resolve of a champion was heard in her voice and seen in her eyes.

She wanted more than anything in the world to win a gold at that winter Olympics. She sacrificed everything for that goal, including the privilege and joy of raising her son. As the music softened and the interview came to an end, the Olympian sadly admitted, “I’m probably the worst mother in the world.” With that, the docudrama ended, and we found ourselves back at the live coverage of the event she was about to race.

A few words of color commentary, and the racers were called to take their marks. Sunglasses covered her eyes, and her jaws tightened for the race of her life. This was the moment for which she had trained and sacrificed. It would be worth it. The crowd was still, and for a brief moment my muscles tensed in anticipation of the start.

Bang! The gun sounded and was immediately followed by a second shot. The racers pulled short, and to the amazement of everyone, the woman who had been the focus of the interview and docudrama had been disqualified because of a false start.

For her, the race was over. So was her dream. The commentators lamented the fate of this Olympian, and moments later the viewers were whisked away to another event, another Olympian, and another docudrama. That was the last I saw of her.

What I remember, is the feeling I had as the coverage continued. I thought then, as I have on many occasions, “How sad and how dumb.” She actually believed the sacrifices she made as a parent would be worth a big shiny bottle cap on a string, which she never got.

Even if she had won the gold, I wonder if she would have found the sacrifices worth it, or would more than its finish have tarnished? There were three losers that day: an Olympian, a little blond headed boy, and a mother.

“You’re trading diamonds for stones.” That’s what the old lady told the workaholic dad in the touching story “The Christmas Box.” He was spending all his available time, and some of his unavailable time, starting a business at the expense of his family. He had exchanged something precious for something of very little value. It wasn’t until the end of the story, after the little old lady worked him over, that he realized his stupidity and corrected it, but correct it he did…perhaps with the sacrifice of a promising career.

It’s not just about Olympians and athletes. It’s about plumbers, electricians, engineers, CEO’s, accountants, farmers, garbage truck drivers, school teachers, writers, and pastors. Plain, ordinary people who have been duped into trading diamonds for…well, big shiny bottle caps on strings. Of course, those big bottle caps are as different as the people who seek them…a position, a hobby, a dream, a salary, or a ministry.

To achieve the goal, they’re willing to make sacrifices, even if it might be their families. And if they are fortunate enough to reach the goal, the world stands to its feet, because that’s what we do. We applaud the best, the beautiful, the successful. But there is no applause for dads and moms who give up success, leisure, position, or ministry to raise the children that God has given them.

Can you imagine a Parenting Olympics? A gold medal would be awarded to the dad who takes every Saturday off and refuses to run to the office even for a few minutes. The crowd would cheer for the mom who was confined to the house for a whole week with a couple of sick, throwing up kids. Fans would throw roses and applaud the efforts of moms and dads who went against the flow of society and exchanged stones for diamonds. But that’ll never happen.

That’s OK, because dads don’t need gold medals, certificates, or awards. They have something better… something that grows brighter and sparkles as time passes. It is the joy in being part of the daily. Seeing those first steps, hearing the sound of a sick child call your name because they love and need you, feeling little arms wrapped around your neck after prayers are said and a slurpy kiss that smells of chocolate chip cookies. It’s a heart full of memories of picnics in the backyard, eating rocket popsicles from the ice cream truck, and picking apples on a cool, autumn day.

The inconvenience of washing a car with a couple of giggling kids who make the job a thousand times more difficult passes quickly, but the warmth of that moment lasts forever.

Those moments don’t just happen. They must be chased after with the same determination as an athlete chases after the gold. It’s every day. When you feel like it and when you don’t. And, when you think you can’t take another day, you take a deep breath and thank God for the privilege of being part of something eternal, and you keep at it. When no one claps and when no one notices, you set your jaw and refuse to give up.

You keep going because you know it will be worth it. There will come a day when your children will grow up and leave. They will rise up and call you blessed. One day the phone will ring and the mature voice of a once little boy or girl will say, “I just called to talk and to get your opinion.” You will grow old knowing that you ran the race set before you. You trained, taught, loved, and pointed the children entrusted to you to God. You will hear from the Father, “Well done good and faithful…dad.”

So Dad, go for the gold… the real gold, that never tarnishes and is infinitely better than a big shiny bottle cap on a string.