So it turns out winning medals isn’t it after all. What really makes the Olympic Games an extraordinary public event is the drama of gods versus ordinary mortals. Elite athletes backed by money and hope, up against mortality, weather, fate.
Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir stunning their audience with an ethereal ice ballet performed to the strains of Mahler, a class act for sure. Joannie Rochette wearing black to a practice skate only hours after learning her mother had died of a heart attack. A heartbreaking hockey loss to the American team whose goalie resembled the Great Wall of China on skates.
In a brilliant little book, Three Uses of the Knife: on the Nature and Purpose of Drama, playwright David Mamet says a great play is like the perfect ball game. “What do we wish for in the perfect game? Do we wish for Our Team to take the field and thrash the opposition from the First Moment, rolling up a walkover score at the final gun? No. We wish for a closely fought match that contains many satisfying reversals, but which can be seen retroactively, to have always tended toward a satisfying and inevitable conclusion. We wish, in effect, for a three-act structure.”
Act one: Canadians declare they will “own the podium” and get off to a fantastic start with four gold medals in short order.
Act two: the world dumps on Canada blaming us for everything from bad weather to a fatal pre-game accident, a myriad of sour gripes including mockery for the COC’s slogan, as if the hitherto silent groundhog had poked his head out of the hole, caught sight of his shadow and started barking. As if nobody suspected Canada even cared about winning. That’s where a generation of peace-keeping gets you. Hubris: from the Greek, hybris, meaning exaggerated pride or self-confidence, usually directed against the gods; considered a tragic flaw in the protagonist. Walking with the head held too high, one is unable to see the banana peel lying in wait.
By the end of act two, pundits are playing the blame game. The slogan’s at fault. We never should have talked about owning the podium, not a country that historically, routinely sells everything cheap, raw, unimproved. Here come and get it. You don’t need to fight for our oil. You’re violating the Free Trade Agreement? Don’t mention it. We don’t mix apples and oranges up here.
As Rover blogger Noah Richler has been saying for some time now, this country is in the process of rewriting its central narrative. So far the Vancouver games seem to be playing into his thesis. We’re heading into a major makeover, not just the image we have of ourselves or the image we project, but the way we react to and live in the wider world.
I can hardly wait for act three.
