Trares
Our day-to-day has been thrown into disarray.
No, it’s not the return to a school routine, or the addition of some new activity or responsibility into our family order.
Rather, it’s an ending that has made this week feel particularly off.
For 16 days from late July until this past Sunday, the Trares household had been Olympics central. Our mornings before school and work were filled with badminton, doubles canoe racing and speed climbing. Every night, we sat on the couch to watch the highlights of the day. In between, we were checking updated medal tables and scores on our phones.
The Olympics have always held a special fascination for me. I can remember watching the drama and triumph surrounding Greg Louganis’s diving in Seoul ‘88, cheering as Kerri Strug fought through pain to clinch the gold for the United States in Atlanta in 1996 and tallying Michael Phelps’ gold medal dominance every four years.
Moreso remembering the iconic achievements, I’ve relished watching and emotionally investing in all of the sports I’d never, ever care about any other time. Of course, I watched synchronized diving and javelin and modern pentathlon — how could you not?
The Paris Games were no different. I made plans to build roughly two weeks — which otherwise fell in the dregs of the yearly sports calendar — around Olympic revelry.
This year added a twist, though. For the first time, Anthony really got into watching with us. It started during the Opening Ceremonies, as we watched boats loaded with hopeful athletes chug through the rain on the River Seine. We were waiting for the U.S. team, of course, but also mesmerized by all of the nations taking part this year.
Each time a flag or country he didn’t realize popped up on screen, Anthony would ask where it was, how big it was and if they were good at the Olympics.
The following day, as he and I were watching a preliminary beach volleyball game, he went to work on making a gold medal out of paper he could wear around his neck.
Anthony cheered as the U.S. achieved increasingly unlikely feats in gymnastics. After seeing Léon Marchand and Katie Ledecky dominate in swimming, he took to the pool and tried to emulate their strokes. When I’d make him watch highlights of the American women’s rugby team clinching bronze with the equivalent of a hail mary or the surfers taking on the fearsome break at Teahupoʻo, he’d just say, “Whoa.”
Waking up on Monday morning without any Olympics to look forward to was a bummer. Granted, it was too busy of a week to dwell on it, with work, a full week of school and nightly activities taking up our time. But I felt a twinge of sadness about it being over, and I think Anthony felt the same way.
Still, I think it’s safe to say I have a new fan to geek out to in four years. Bring on LA 2028.
Ryan Trares is a senior reporter and columnist for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
