A couch potato imagines they are an Olympian |
My 3rd entry for the Olympic Writing Decathlon Written for
** Image ID #841973 Unavailable ** The New Prompt is: You are on the medal podium at the Olympics when a reporter asks you, "How does it feel to win the Silver Medal"... Answer this question as creatively as you can. Olympic Defeat I had been watching the Olympics on television for hours, and like all the years before I tried to imagine myself as one of the Olympians that had won a medal and earned my place in history for all time. As I was unintentionally lulled to sleep by the deep, droning voices of the commentators recapping the day’s events I suddenly found myself in the middle of the huge arena on the podium just to the right of the gold medal winner. Camera flashes were blinding the three of us as we stood on the winner’s podium waiting to have the medals bestowed upon us. The crowds of people in the stands created a kind of constant, low, vibrating roar that made it difficult to hear or even think. The sea of faces created by the multitude of people in the audience totally encircled the huge stadium floor where the three of us were perched on three glowing white wooden podiums. My vision blurred by all the camera flashes made it appear to me like a gargantuan sea creature had just swallowed everybody and everything on the stadium floor. Suddenly, several cameramen converged on the winner’s podium. They had no faces. Where there should have been human faces or heads attached to human bodies there were every imaginable size camera and lens attachment. Our instinctive, knee-jerk reaction to the silent, rapid-fire flashes caused the three of us to simultaneously step backwards, which made us all lose our balance. We teetered on the brink of global disaster. Never in the history of the Olympics had any Olympians ever tumbled off of the winner’s podium. Directly behind the cameramen were a crushing herd of reporters, each jockeying for a once in a lifetime, up-close, and personal interview. At this point, the cameramen and reporters were all too physically close and too single minded in their pursuit of a picture or story to notice that the three of us appeared to be balancing on a high wire like circus performers. With our arms outstretched, flapping and grasping at the air while we tried to right ourselves. The scene played out in excruciatingly painful slow motion as we tried to regain our balance. There was a loud, collective gasp from the thousands of people in the stands as we tumbled backwards off of the winner’s podium. Then there was a moment of thick silence as our bodies cascaded over the edge and hit the ground with a pounding thud. The announcers voice never faltered, or gave the slightest indication that he had just witnessed the most humiliating catastrophe in Olympic history. As we three Olympians lay in a crumbled pile on the arenas carpeted floor, through the hush and horror of the crowds, the oblivious announcer’s voice continued to boom out of the massive speakers. The crowd remained silent as each name, and country represented by the Olympian was announced. “And The Silver Medallist in the 30 Second Toilet Relay Race is awarded to Ohear Wego of the United States.” I felt my body aching and rocking as I lay on the floor listening to the announcement in total disbelief. As thoughts raced through my mind, I was asking myself, “What event? When did that become an Olympic Event?” Just then a big black sponge covered microphone was nearly shoved down my throat by one of the reporters that was responsible for knocking us all off of the podiums. I was angry, hurting and humiliated, and this reporter was shouting at the top of his lungs asking, “Will you share with the over 80 million viewers how you feel about being the silver medallist in this event?” The sound of my own voice echoed in my ears, “Huh? What?” At that very instant I realized that I must have fallen off of the sofa. My husband’s hand was on my shoulder, and he was rocking me gently, and saying, “Wake up Honey, are you alright?” I quickly climbed to my feet and raced to the bathroom in record time. As I sat there doing my business I thought to myself, “I certainly should have won the gold.” |