On the television screen, a reporter at the Beijing Olympics hollers from a half-open bus window that he’s being arrested for the crime of trying to cover a political demonstration. We haven’t seen such a public snatching since Chicago in ’68, when Richard Daley’s cops dragged NBC’s John Chancellor off the Democratic Convention floor, shouting, “This is John Chancellor, somewhere in custody.”
You flip the TV dial, and there’s controversy over the spectacular Olympics opening ceremonies. Well, yes, the Chinese admit, the TV fireworks seen around the world were juiced up by digital technology. Imagery is what counts. Somewhere in her grave, Leni Riefenstahl recalls Berlin in ’36 and mutters to herself, “From them, I could learn.”
You flip the dial again, and you hear Beijing officials trying to defend, without notable success, the lip-synching of the opening “Ode to Motherland” because the real singer, a 7-year-old Yang Peiyi, was deemed “not cute enough.” Or they’re dealing with the scandal of under-age, pre-pubescent gymnasts pretending to meet the Olympic age limit. Or the pollution. Or …
Well, the list of troubles goes on.
And, through it all, there’s Michael Phelps, like a bridge through non-troubled waters. He wins and he wins, four gold medals, five, six, and more, all told the greatest career collection in Olympic history. And, never to be minimized, with two silvers and a bronze, Katie Hoff.
They are ours, but now they belong to the whole world. They come from Baltimore, but a planet of TV watchers embraces them. When he captured his fifth medal, it was noted, Phelps had more gold than the totals for 45 nations.
“He’s like a nation on his own,” said a female commentator on MSNBC.
“I’m sorry,” said another, gazing at Phelps so long that she forgets to reply, “I was a little mesmerized looking at Michael Phelps there.”
The whole world seems a little mesmerized. Michael Mania, they’re calling it. When Phelps swims, 40 million people watch. The next night? No Phelps, and only 29 million viewers.
The moment seems other-worldly. And yet, to everyone’s delight around Baltimore, the success of Phelps and Hoff commenced right here.
You see the evidence outside the Meadowbrook swim club, just off the Kelly Avenue Bridge in Mount Washington. Outside the place, banners have been hung, announcing, “Countdown to Gold — Baltimore to Beijing.”
Inside the club’s lobby, more banners: “Beijing, 2008.” They’re strung a few feet from congratulatory signs posted for the two swimmers. The banners sit there, just above Lindsay Belton’s head at the front desk.
“It’s like a dream,” Belton says. “I mean, it’s amazing to know somebody who’s over there, and they’re winning all these medals. It’s unbelievable just to know them.”
Lindsay’s 19. She used to swim backstroke for Poly, and now goes to the University of Maryland Baltimore County, where she’s studying linguistics. She wants to translate and teach. Once upon a time, she might have wanted to be Hoff, or Phelps, who had everyone at the swim club screaming the other night.
“Must have been 200 people here to watch him and Katie,” she says. “People were yelling out loud.” She gestures, as though they might have heard Baltimore’s cheering in Beijing.
“I can’t imagine the nervousness,” she says.
“When you swam for Poly,” she’s asked, “didn’t you get nervous?”
“Oh, sure. But that’s what I mean. It couldn’t be anything like they’re feeling.”
She pauses to answer questions from a woman with two young children. There are kids all over the place on this Thursday afternoon. Maybe there’s not a Phelps or Hoff in the bunch — but so what? They’ve uncorked an enthusiasm for a sport, for a healthy lifestyle.
“My son,” the mother tells Lindsay Belton, “is 8 years old.” She wants to register him for swim classes. “He swims well on his own, but he doesn’t have the rotary breathing down. He’d rather dog paddle or swim underwater.”
“Beginner 1 or 2,” says Lindsay.
She says she’ll be watching Phelps as he goes for another medal. Like the others here, there’s a special kick: They know these kids.
“They’re just nice people,” she says of Hoff and Phelps. “They’ll talk to anybody.”
As these Olympics chug on, it’s nice to hear. The controversies will come and go, inevitable any time a bunch of nations compete. But the lasting images, around here and around the world, will be Michael Phelps swimming through his untroubled waters. And Katie Hoff in her own pool of glory.
Just the way they’ve always done it around here.
