The Olympic quest

As a few more IU athletes enter the Olympic Trials, vying for a trip to the 2004 Athens Games, some sportive table-talk on the idea of "going for the gold" seems appropriate. \nOne view on the Olympic quest is the opinion of an author who himself was a world-class modern pentathlete and Olympic wrestling coach. His estate, Foxcatcher Farm, was a national training center for Olympic athletes in four sports.\nIn "Off the Mat: Building Winners in Life," John E. du Pont comments on the Olympic dream. Du Pont's life took an unpleasant turn a few years after the book's publication, but his understanding of the Olympian deserves a look. \nFor most Olympic hopefuls, the personal gratification that comes from attaining goals is the primary motivation, du Pont said. It's that plain. Set the goal, execute the plan, chart the progress. \nHitting marks that measure performance over time fulfills the athlete's hunger for purpose and instills confidence at the starting line, where another goal takes over. Goals promise the dawn of a new day, and athletes who achieve them walk a little taller into the sunset. \nGoals vary, though. One athlete told this journalist that merely getting to Barcelona in 1988 was her objective. \nFor other athletes, whether they admit it or not, the seduction of the "Olympi-drama" provides the inspiration, du Pont said. This isn't the stage version, though.\nThe Olympiad is now a charged media sensation that can turn a winner into an instant success. Or, since Lake Placid, can a miracle, on ice or off. \nGold medals lead to Madison Avenue, where behind Doors 1, 2 and 3 are commercials, endorsements and, maybe more. Especially when the golden medallion adorns the telegenic countenance. \nLook at Peggy Fleming, Bruce Jenner, Dorothy Hammill, Mary Lou Retton, Summer Sanders and Carl Lewis. \nThe victor's prize, and reward, has come a long way since the crown of wild olive.\nOlympic contenders can -- and do -- envision themselves as stars, as something more grand than life itself, according to du Pont. In turn, they can become stricken with "'Olympic Gold-itis' … which prevents their ever achieving the potential that could bring them real Olympic Gold." \nThe gods on Olympia aren't kind to mortals who yield to hubris.\nLook at Tonya Harding, starring in her own tragi-comedy. And who knows what took place in the opera bouffe leading up to the men's decathlon in Atlanta?\nAlready this year, a swimmer (male) and heptathlete (female) appeared, in action, on their very own credit cards (platinum), before they earned a spot on the U.S. Olympic team.\nStill, the duo should be cheered, even though the swimmer, Michael Phelps, is chasing the record seven gold medals set by IU's Mark Spitz in the Munich Games, in 1972.\nNot all Olympic athletes compete in high-profile sports that draw the media. Think of archery. Or rowing.\nThe first American intercollegiate sport, rowing remains an obscure Olympic contest. Much, however, has been written about rowing. \nAmong the entertaining accounts of Olympic oarsmen is David Halberstam's aptly titled "The Amateurs," a book about four men vying for the one and only spot in single-scull rowing in the 1984 Los Angeles games.\nHalberstam says that single-scull rowing is "a citadel of the true amateur," who brings a "demonic passion" to his sport, traveling to races by car and sleeping in motels, though often to the manor he is born. \nThis single-scull rower competes in a solitary world where glory comes from fellow oarsmen and rewards from knowing that he assails the frontier of exertion. \n"Perhaps in our society," Halberstam observes, "the true madness in the search for excellence is left for the amateur."\nHow true this is when an Olympiad approaches. No other athletic contest compares. It is the stuff dreams are made of. But achieving dreams is costly, except of course for the NBA Dream Team. And rare is the news that a dreamer on the balance beam is tossed a financial life preserver from a starlet. \nWhy, then, is the Olympic quest so enthralling?\nIn the words of John Biglow, who missed the bronze medal by 1.67 seconds on Lake Casitas in 1984, "The Olympian stands alone"