Olympics Movies That Should Definitely Be Made

It's really no secret that I'm a rather big fan of Olympics movies. (Let's ignore the fact that I still haven't seen Chariots of Fire...) And I've been excited to see Foxcatcher for about six or seven months, when I first learned about Dave Schultz. But there are two problems: Foxcatcher isn't in theaters in Colorado yet (don't even get me started), and it's bound to be a dark, twisted, creepy sort of movie. But seriously, just reading about John du Pont makes my skin crawl.

This seems to be a fairly common thing in Olympics movies. I mean, just in the handful I've seen there's been a whole lot of death, and Unbroken (which comes out on Christmas!) sure isn't going to be any happier. It was this revelation that made sense of why I'm so into Miracle -- not only does it involve absolutely zero deaths or torture, it's a movie that's well-done and almost entirely factual. Obviously Hollywood took a few liberties, but you can watch Miracle and get a pretty solid idea of how things actually happened. This, too, is surprisingly rare. Cool Runnings? Sorry, guys. It's based on a true story but needs to be taken with a huuuuge grain of salt.

Basically, I'm just not thrilled with my selection of Olympics movies. I mean, is it so much to ask to watch a movie that's both accurate and not depressing? Apparently it is. But if you throw a rock at the Olympics, you'll hit a story that's worth making a movie about. It's literally a goldmine of movie material. Here are some Olympics movies that Hollywood definitely needs to start developing ASAP!

1. Dan Jansen. How this guy's story wasn't immortalized on the silver screen within days of the Lillehammer 1994 Games coming to an end, I will never understand. In 1988 he was the favorite for two speed skating gold medals. But on the day of his first race, his sister died of leukemia, and he fell in both of his races. He came back for the 1992 Olympics and again finished out of the medals, but in his final race at the 1994 Olympics, he was finally able to win the gold medal that had eluded him for so long. But not only that... he took his victory lap holding his baby daughter that he'd named after his sister. I mean, come on! You don't even need to take any creative license with that! It's a story that involves heartbreak and success AND wraps itself up in a neat little bow! Do you want to start writing the screenplay, or should I?

2. The Dream Team. While I'm a total sucker for an underdog story, I still think the greatest team of all time could easily be turned into a great movie. There was plenty of interesting stuff going on in that team dynamic, and a movie could easily become more of a character study than anything else! I mean, Patrick Ewing (from Jamaica) and Larry Bird (a white guy from a teeny town in Indiana) became best friends. Magic Johnson was battling HIV and trying to maintain alpha male status over Michael Jordan, who wasn't taking too kindly to that. And then there was Charles Barkley, who's enough of a character to carry an entire movie by himself. Now, tell me you wouldn't watch that!

3. The Magnificent Seven. Again, who in Hollywood is sleeping on this one? That first "team that overcame the odds and beat the Russians" movie did pretty well, right? Well, this has all the same elements (right down to the slightly crazy coach!), but this one would involve girls in star-spangled leotards and the self-sacrificing heroics of Kerri Strug. But there was drama even before the Olympics, as Shannon Miller and Dominique Moceanu were both injured during Olympic trials but were named to the team anyway. So many storylines! So much potential!

4. Apolo Ohno. I might be biased, since Apolo is my dude, but I would love to see a movie about his life. He was a really rebellious kid from a single-parent household that essentially ran away from home to avoid going to train seriously. And he then went on to become the most decorated American winter Olympian in history. Again, there's not really much creative license that has to be taken there. It's one of those underdog stories that people tend to salivate over.

5. Jesse Owens. Um, hello? He's THE American Olympic hero. Look up any list of the greatest American Olympic moments, and 90% of the time, the Miracle on Ice will be #2 and Jesse Owens will be #1. He was the black man that beat all of Hitler's Aryans in Germany. Pretty self explanatory. But as if we need another reason, he also happened to befriend one of his blonde German competitors, Luz Long, who offered Owens in-competition advice and then finished second to him. So not only was Jesse Owens beating the Germans, he was making friends with them. Talk about giving Hitler the finger!

6. Dick Fosbury. I absolutely adore Dick Fosbury, and his story is probably one of the most unique and compelling I've ever come across. He was a high jumper that literally revolutionized the technique used in his sport... simply because he couldn't do it the accepted way. Like, he was a very bad high jumper, so he said "screw it, I'll get over that bar however I can." So the Fosbury Flop was born, and he broke all sorts of records and won an Olympic gold medal. And nowadays, every single high jumper uses the Fosbury Flop technique. AMAZING.

Hollywood, take note: a movie doesn't have to be fabricated or depressing to be awesome. But until you start realizing that, I'll just watch Miracle another million or so times. (And, uh, I should probably get around to Chariots of Fire!)

My Favorite Olympic Memories

It's been way too long since I've gone full-on Olympic geek on this here blog. So it's about time I get around to changing that! The timing's kind of funny, since I'm sure everyone else linking up with Fan Friday will be talking about football... but variety is the spice of life, amirite?

Earlier this week, the Twitter account for the potential Boston 2024 Olympic bid tweeted asking about everyone's favorite Olympic memories. Well, their first tweet on the subject actually said "moment," not "memory," so obviously my answer was the Miracle on Ice. And let's be real, the Miracle on Ice is never the wrong answer, to any question in any situation. But when Boston 2024 started asking about memories instead of moments, it got me thinking. What ARE my favorite Olympic memories? I certainly have a ton of them. So I thought it'd be fun to go through each Games that I remember and pick my favorite from each one. :)

The ladies' figure skating long program was on the night of my 11th birthday. When I was a kid I was the BIGGEST figure skating nut, so my cousin Molly slept over and we stayed up late to watch it. Because of the Utah/New York time difference, the final programs weren't on until close to midnight (which was a big deal to a couple of fifth graders!). Sarah Hughes was my girl -- she was from Long Island just like me! -- and Molly and I got so intense rooting for her. She was fourth going into the long program, absolutely knocked her skate out of the park, and we were absolutely dying as the rest of the skaters performed. When she won, we shrieked and jumped around and threw our pillows in jubilation. (I know, we were ridiculous. And adorable. And it was awesome.)

I have surprisingly sketchy memories from Athens. I think I was actually on my first-ever trip to London, which might explain why my recollections are fuzzy and/or nonexistent! I do, however, remember when the Olympic flame was put out during the closing ceremony. The cauldron was on top of the stadium, and a little girl on the ground blew it out as if it was a candle on a birthday cake. I'm not sure why that stuck with me, but it's still one of my favorite closing moments!

Yet another Games I have precious few memories of. Man, where was my brain? This was when I first fell in love with my man Apolo Ohno, and discovered Shaun White (il Pomodoro Volante, the Flying Tomato!)... and I know I watched the U.S. men's curling team win bronze, and was utterly perplexed by Johnny Weir, and was thrilled about Tanith Belbin and Ben Agosto... but I don't have that one standout moment. Let's pretend I remember watching Apolo's perfect race, shall we? I know exactly how it would've gone, too: screaming my throat raw, digging my fingernails into my face, you know the drill.

I spent most of these Games in Italy (with Molly, again! Are we noticing a pattern here?), so I watched very little of it. However, I'll never forget watching the opening ceremony with my mom. I wasn't really sure what to expect from it, but within about 15 seconds we'd fallen completely silent and were just flat-out dumbstruck. We seriously didn't say a word, and just sat there in slack-jawed awe for the entire first segment. I still don't have words for it. I think we glanced at each other during the first commercial break and had a "hahaha, okay, holy crap?" moment.

I have so many phenomenal memories from Vancouver, because it was the only Games I got to watch while I was at college. So I literally watched Olympic coverage all day, every day, and did so surrounded by some amazing people. I could make a whole list just from Vancouver memories, but my favorite is a no-contest: the men's hockey gold medal game. I watched in a friend's dorm room with a group of people. It was freshman year, and in freshman dorms all doors are open at all times, so you could hear all the TVs on the floor were playing the game as well, each a second or two off from each other. My friends and I were yelling at the TV the entire game, on the edge of our seats, watching the clock tick down to a U.S. loss... until, at the last possible second, we heard frantic yelling and cheering from down the hall. A split second later, our TV caught up, and we watched Zach Parise score the tying goal. So we were screaming and celebrating, and suddenly some guys from the room next door stampeded in to see what happened -- their TV was even more delayed than ours was! They were so anxious to see the goal that they ended up completely missing it! It was the craziest celebratory moment, coupled with the hilarity of dorm life, and I'll honestly never forget it. :)

I had spent four months as a London 2012 Ceremonies volunteer from February-June, so by the time July 27th rolled around I was jumping out of my skin with excitement. I avoided all social media on opening ceremony day to avoid "spoilers" before it aired in primetime... even though I literally knew the entire ceremony from all the rehearsals I'd gone to. I spent the whole ceremony wrapped in a blanket on my couch, fighting back tears. I was a part of this ceremony. It was being run by people I knew and loved. I'd watched those performances come together, been there when those groups convened for the very first time and learned those first beats of choreography. This was quite possibly the coolest experience of my life. (And it didn't hurt that earlier in the day, a fellow volunteer sent me a picture of my name in the program!)

Due to the time difference and my craaaazy work hours because of it (ah, the perks of working for the USOC during Games time!), I watched copious amounts of coverage during Sochi but did it all alone. While my friends went about their normal lives in the land of the living, I was peeling myself from my bed at 3 a.m. and gluing myself to the TV hours before the sun even thought about rising. And honestly? It was the coolest thing ever. I'll never forget watching the USA vs. Russia men's hockey game (two words: T.J. Oshie!), but I'm pretty sure my favorite has to be when Meryl Davis and Charlie White won the first ice dancing gold medal for the U.S. My heart was racing, I was sweating like crazy... I was literally a nervous wreck. And then they won, and I cried. (LISTEN, Sochi was a long, emotional two weeks!)

Wow, I just noticed that all of my favorite summer Olympic memories are from the ceremonies, and all of my winter Olympic memories are from competition. Whoops? I foresee that changing in Rio 2016, though. I'm preparing myself to be seriously emotionally compromised by volleyball and expecting our teams to bring home a gold medal or two (or three? or four?)! ;)

It's kind of cool to look back at my life and notice all these Olympic road marks. But that, really, is another post entirely!

Zero Regrets

YOU GUYS. I met Apolo Ohno last week!

I feel like I probably should've maintained some sense of mystery or suspense and NOT just blurted that out right off the bat. But here's the kicker with this story; it's actually not all that much of a story. Remember how I wrote about a million words the last time I did something like this, when I met Jim Craig and Buzz Schneider? How I planned that encounter for months, paid a lot of money, and watched the whole thing go to hell only to ultimately work out really awesomely? Well, this experience was the exact opposite. (Except it also worked out really awesomely!)

Last Wednesday, I was doing my usual thing on social media when I saw this:

I’ll be in #Boulder this week! Come 2 the @NewtonRunningLab 4 a meet & greet w/me this Thursday from 12-1pm! #HelloBetter
— Apolo Anton Ohno (@ApoloOhno) July 30, 2014

After doing a brief happy dance that Colorado was once again proving itself useful (the first time being when Kerri Walsh Jennings stopped by the Springs, and the second when I went to Vail for Mark Johnson reasons), I hit up Google maps to see how feasible this trip would be. Turns out that Boulder is about an hour and a half, hour and 45 minutes away from Colorado Springs.

So I hesitated. That's kind of far to drive for a quick afternoon, especially by myself, especially on less than 24-hour notice, and especially in a car thats radiator is cracked and could blow whenever it so chooses. And besides, at this point it had been raining for a solid two days -- would the roads be flooded?

But within about five minutes, I realized that I had no idea when or if I'd get another chance to meet Apolo, and that I'd regret it forever if I decided not to go. So I decided to go.

I made sure I was on the road bright and early the next morning -- or, well, it would've been bright if it hadn't been raining -- because I was prepared for the absolute worst. I mean, seriously, after getting my phone stolen and then getting lost for an hour in New Jersey in my pursuit of Buzz Schneider, I was leaving absolutely nothing to chance. I was prepared to get lost, to get a flat tire, to be unable to drive through flooded roads... hell, I half expected Buzz (the car) to blow up.

...But the sun broke through the clouds within fifteen minutes, and the drive was absolute smooth sailing. Buzz did not blow up. The roads were perfectly dry (though holy construction zones, Batman!). I did not get lost, and didn't even have to drive around in circles to look for parking once I arrived; there was a parking garage about one block down the road, and parking was FREE! And I got there a flawless 20 minutes early. It was honestly the complete antithesis of what I expected.

There was a fairly small line of people when I got there, and they were all clutching copies of Apolo's book or old newspaper clippings for him to sign. I felt distinctly awkward at my lack of things, and thought longingly of my copy of his book and my extensive Vancouver 2010 magazine collection, all at home in New York. Alas.

They set up a table in the corner of the store, and then Apolo was led out -- quietly, casually, with no fanfare -- and the line started moving. He'd spend a little time chatting with everyone, sign the photos the store was providing and anything else anyone wanted him to, and pose for pictures.

I thought briefly of getting a selfie with him (how awesome would that've been?!), but ultimately asked the dude in line behind me if he'd take a picture for me. Going to meet-and-greets alone is kind of a struggle when there's no official photographer! So thank you, kind stranger!

I'd decided to wear my Sochi U.S. Olympic Team shirt that day, for fairly obvious reasons, and as soon as it was my turn to approach the table, Apolo took one look at me and said, "I like your shirt! That is awesome." (I knew wearing that shirt was a good idea! Victorious!)

Then he asked for my name, for autograph purposes, and I gave my usual spiel. "Darci, with an -i, not a -y."

"Okay, so D-A-R..."

"Yep, D-A-R-C-I."

This happens just about any time anyone writes my name, ever. So as he was signing his name, I said, "So I commiserate with your 'Apolo with one L' struggle."

He laughed. "Ohhh yeah!"

As he came around the table and take a picture with me, I handed my phone to my temporary photographer and said to Apolo, "Just so you know, it was on my bucket list to meet you, so this is very exciting."

He chuckled and said, "Well, you just got it! You got that check!"

And THEN we took a picture together!

I shook his hand and thanked him, grabbed my autograph, and skipped out of there. I was still half expecting something to go atrociously wrong, so you best believe I was all about quitting while I was ahead. So I left, and texted my mom something incredibly eloquent (I think my exact words were "YEEEEEEEE!").

There was a little sandwich place and a lovely courtyard right across the street, so I grabbed some lunch over there and ate outside, because instead of 60 degrees and raining it was about 80 degrees and sunny. That was a pleasant surprise! And instead of getting my phone stolen, I had a nice chat with the very friendly guy who took my sandwich order. I tell ya, I adore New York, but sometimes Colorado just does things better.

But that was not the end of my day! Since I was already in Boulder, I decided to swing by the Celestial Tea Factory and check the final item off of my old Colorado bucket list! I'd been wanting to go there for almost literally a year, but Boulder is (like I said) kind of a drive. But meeting Apolo had given me an excuse to go to the tea factory, and the tea factory had given me an excuse to meet Apolo, so it was just a total winner of a situation.

The Celestial Tea Factory was probably about a five-minute drive from where I was in town, and it's reeeeeally on the outskirts of everything. Tours of the factory are free, and when you walk in and get signed up, they give you a little ceramic mug for sampling and a single teabag as your tour ticket! My tour was the Sleepytime decaf tour. It was adorable.

They had probably about 10 or 12 different types of tea you could sample while you waited for your tour to start -- and obviously, I tried all of them. The tour itself takes you right onto the factory floor, which was so cool! You actually get to see the teas getting packaged on the assembly line, and go into the various rooms where they keep the different ingredients. The peppermint room is a game changer, man. Wow. Talk about clearing the sinuses.

The tour doesn't allow photography, though, so you'll just have to take my word for how neat it was. The lack of photography is actually kind of a blessing, because they make everyone wear hairnets. That is a look I decidedly chose not to immortalize in a selfie, thank you very much.

Unsurprisingly, the tour finishes up in the gift shop, where I unsurprisingly bought myself an absolutely beautiful mug and some cold-brew peach tea. And then I decided to also get a dainty four-leaf clover necklace too because, what the heck, everything else that day had been free! #treatyoself

And then I headed home. There was traffic, but all that did was let me take a quick picture of the scenery! Nothing got stolen, I didn't get lost, and it barely even rained. I'm still kind of shocked.

I'd call this day a success.

Blogtober Day 25: Apolo Ohno

It's the laaaast Friday of Blogtober! WOO! I gotta say, this whole blog-every-day thing, as fun as it is, is a serious time suck and it's getting kind of exhausting. I really don't know how some bloggers do this month after month after month. My hat is off to all of you that do.

Luckily, though, I saved this particular post for close to the end to motivate myself through the final push. So here. we. go.

Can we talk about the amount of angst this guy put me through during his races? I'm talking digging my fingernails into my face and screaming myself hoarse. It's a rough life being emotionally invested in a short track skater.

Speaking of a rough life (I didn't even do that on purpose; accidental perfect transition for the win!), Apolo overcame a lot to get to where he is. He was raised by a single father and fell into a group of super shady older kids when he was young. Apolo credits sports with saving him from going down a really bad path, though he did kind of fight it kicking and screaming in the beginning.

He became the youngest U.S. national champion ever, at age 14, in 1997 and went on to hold the title from 2001-2009, winning it 12 times. In 1999 he became the youngest skater to win a World Cup event title, and he became the first American to win a World Cup overall title in 2001, and won again in 2003 and 2005. He won his first overall World Championship title at the in 2008. He has 21 World Championship medals in total.

And then, of course, there's the Olympics. Apolo made his debut in 2002, winning a gold and a silver and my heart amidst a decent amount of controversy (which kind of became a theme with him -- so even MORE angst and heart palpitations!). In 2006, he won two bronzes and a gold, but not just any gold. THE gold. The Perfect Race (watch that video and take a moment to bask in the utter flawlessness). In 2010, his final Olympics, he took home two more bronzes and a silver for eight Olympic medals total.

 Those eight medals make Apolo the most decorated American winter Olympian of all time. (He also happened to win that record-breaking medal at night on Feb. 20... but on the east coast, it was the wee hours of Feb. 21. So basically, Apolo made history on my birthday. BOOM.)

But what I really love about Apolo is how he never lost his good sportsmanship, he never stopped working his tail off, and he never complained about crashes or losses or disqualifications. When you read his book, you know that this is a guy that gets it. He doesn't want to win for the sake of winning; he wants to have earned it. He knows that the Olympics are more significant than just a sporting event, which is something I may agree with. But just a little bit (she says as she continues to write her Olympics blog...).

So, while I'm really sad that he's now retired, I am kind of glad that I won't have to watch him race around at a gazillion miles an hour with five other guys all with knives strapped to their feet. But thanks to him, I now get to stress out about the next generation of short trackers, and I'll enjoy every second of it. :)

To The Dads

Olympians and their moms have kind of become A Thing. Michael Phelps' mom is almost as famous as he is nowadays, and then there's this commercial.

*pauses to wipe away tears*

But what about the dads?

My dad and I. Both in our Miami sweatshirts, obviously. :)

I'm not an Olympian, but when I played soccer, my dad was driving me to practice every week and watching all my games, just like my mom was. And he's all ready for the summer to end so he can come to Colorado, pack all my stuff into Buzz and road trip back to New York with me. (If, of course, Buzz is up to the task at that point.)

This morning in the dining hall, ESPN was on one of the TVs, and there was a countdown of the best father-son moments in sports. As a daughter, I'm affronted (kidding), but it did sort of get me thinking about Olympic dads.

The moment that was number one on the ESPN countdown was actually an Olympic moment; Derek Redmond and his father. Words don't do it justice, so here's another commercial that'll give your goosebumps goosebumps.

Then, of course, there's my car's namesake. :) Buzz Schneider won a gold medal with the Miracle on Ice hockey team, scoring five goals in the Olympic tournament. Twenty-four years later, a movie about that team premiered with Billy Schneider starring as his dad.

This is actually one of my favorite things in the world. 

We also can't forget about the Gary Halls! Gary Sr. swam at Mexico City 1968, Munich 1972 and Montreal 1976, winning two silvers and a bronze. Gary Jr. swam in Atlanta 1996, Sydney 2000 and Athens 2004, winning five golds, three silvers and two bronzes. They're the first father/son pair to each make three Olympic appearances. When I interviewed Gary Sr. back in 2010, he told me that he's prouder of his son's accomplishments than he is of any of his own.

Apolo Ohno is, without a doubt, the most famously motherless athlete. He was raised by his dad after his mom left when he was a baby, and isn't shy about talking about how little it affected his life. He has no desire to find her. And he's always saying how wonderful is dad was and is, and how Papa Ohno is the only person he needs in his corner.

And if you think I'm going to neglect to mention what's probably the most famous father-related moment in American Olympic history, you're very much mistaken! Jim Craig had just won the gold medal and, instead of celebrating with his teammates, skated away to find his dad in the stands. If seeing him searching the crowd and asking, "Where's my father?" doesn't tug on your heartstrings, you have no soul.

Oddly enough, ESPN's countdown might've been onto something -- why are there no father/daughter moments on this list? Hmm. I think I need to do some research into this. But, just for fun, here's Aly Raisman's mom and dad watching her compete.

I wholeheartedly agree with the cackling in the background. :)

Happy Father's Day!