T his is the place. The arena. The moment in time. This is it, for thousands of athletes from all across the world. What could be the one chance at Olympic glory.
Four local athletes will be there, including two (rowers Sarah Jones and Greg Ruckman) who have felt the pressure before. They will come together with some of the finest athletes in the world, tour the historic stadium in Athens, and then prepare for a performance they will remember the rest of their lives.
“You don’t get many chances in life to wake up and go for a gold medal,” former Olympic rower Marc Schneider said.
Schneider wonders what it will feel like for him this week, which will mark the first Summer Olympic Games since 1992 that he watches from home. Schneider, a 1991 Cascade High School graduate, won a bronze medal at the 1996 Olympics and returned in 2000 to finish sixth in the four-oared shell without coxswain.
Although he won’t be at the Opening Ceremonies tonight, he knows exactly what the next two weeks will feel like for Mill Creek gymnast Brett McClure, Marysville discus thrower Jarred Rome, Stanwood rower Jones and Ruckman, a double sculler from Camano Island.
“You just have to keep your head focused on what you’re there to do,” Schneider said. “The whole Olympic experience is so incredible that it’s easy to get caught up.”
One day, when the cheering has stopped and the body parts don’t function like they used to, the 2004 Olympians will undoubtedly remember the Athens Games as a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
But in the foreseeable future, the only thing they will recall about the next few days will be dictated by how they perform when the lights come on.
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Even before he set foot in Athens, Mill Creek’s Brett McClure already had a regret from the 2004 Olympic Games.
Because gymnastics will take place this weekend, the U.S. gymnasts won’t be going to the Opening Ceremonies. The idea is that the athletes need to clear their heads before the first day of competition.
“That’s disappointing, but I’ve heard that it can be emotionally draining to go to the Opening Ceremonies,” McClure said. “You can lose your focus.”
What makes it easier to swallow is that McClure has a chance to take part in another celebration next weekend. The U.S. men’s gymnastics team, which hasn’t won an overall medal since 1984, actually has a legitimate chance to finish among the top three teams this year, and McClure is expected to be a big factor in the team’s success.
“We’ve proved ourselves over the last three years, so we know we’ve got a shot,” McClure said. “We’re still the underdogs. China is still the No. 1 seed, so the pressure’s on them.”
Last year, McClure and the U.S. team finished second behind China at the world championships in Anaheim, Calif., which was an amazing accomplishment for a program that has struggled in men’s gymnastics over the years. If there is one thing about the Olympic experience that baffles McClure, it’s that the upcoming Games are already getting more attention than the world championships did – despite the United States’ incredible finish.
“There’s only one Olympics every four years,” McClure said. “That’s exciting, but it’s also discouraging in a way. I mean, we won a silver medal in Anaheim last year; that’s a big deal. But we’ve got to do it again. We feel like we’ve got something to prove.”
In the eyes of most of the world, McClure and the U.S. men’s gymnastics team has only one chance to prove it.
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When the Olympic Trials were set to begin last month, Jarred Rome couldn’t help but think about his high school days.
During his senior year at Marysville-Pilchuck High School in 1995, Rome was favored to win state titles in the discus and shot put, yet took second in both.
His sophomore year at Boise State, he was second in the discus at the NCAA meet.
So his goal heading into the trials was to do something he’d never done before.
“I’ve never gotten first place,” said the 27-year-old, who is believed to be Marysville’s first Olympian. “I was always finishing second.”
Rome got his national title last month, winning the Olympic discus trials with a throw of 215 feet, 9 inches. His performance was so impressive that Rome’s name is being mentioned as a likely medallist this month in Athens.
To go from a state runner-up to an Olympic favorite is quite a leap, and Rome knows exactly what got him here.
“Luckily, I started out being average,” he said. “That gave me the ideals to learn how to work hard. My work ethic is the key.”
Rome finished 13th at the Olympic Trials in 2000, but promised to give it another shot in 2004. He was one of the favorites heading into last month’s trials, and felt the pressure of having to perform.
“I knew I had to make the team,” he said. “If I didn’t, I was probably going to quit. I would have to give it up, get a job, and move on with my life. So I had to go into it with the mindset that I was going to be on the Olympic team.
“I knew if I made the team, my career would just be starting. Now I know I can train for four more years because of opportunities with sponsors and all that. So I knew it was either going to be the end, or the beginning.”
Fortunately for Rome, Greece is only the beginning.
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A disappointing finish at the 2000 Olympic Games was not enough to keep Stanwood’s Sarah Jones from chasing her dream.
Then a member of the U.S. women’s eight-oar boat, Jones rowed to a sixth-place finish in the final race.
This year, the 30-year-old University of Massachusetts product will compete in the grueling double sculls event with University of Michigan product Kate MacKenzie.
The 20-year anniversary of the last American Olympic gold medal in women’s rowing passed earlier this week, so Jones is among a new crop who are training to end the drought.
The men’s team has also gone without gold for 20 years, when Edmonds resident Paul Enquist was part of a double sculls team that won the 1984 event.
Ruckman, who grew up in Cincinnati and attended Harvard before moving to Camano Island in 1999, rowed with Schneider in 2000, when they fell short of a medal. Ruckman, now 30, is back this year and competing in the lightweight double sculls event.
Jones and Ruckman have rare second chances to attain an elusive medal. For most, there is only one chance. It’s a cold fact that athletes, both past and present, know too well.
“You may not get that opportunity again,” said Edmonds resident Jan Harville, a 1984 Olympic rower who missed out on a bronze medal by .29 seconds. “Enjoy it, but enjoy it at the peak of your performance.”
Snohomish County’s oldest living Olympian, 87-year-old Lee Orr, had similar advice for anyone fortunate enough to qualify for the Games.
“Go there because it’s fun being there, and enjoy it,” said Orr, who finished fifth in the 200-meter run during the 1936 Olympics. “What you accomplish at the Olympics may be important, but at the same time, your memories are more important. It’s the thrill of being there and meeting fellow athletes.”
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For the Olympic athlete, twilight arrives too soon. There are no three-game homestands, no any-given-Sundays, no televised majors. Most of their work is cloaked behind an American wall of disinterest. And then, every four years, the attention returns.
Yet most of them will see only one opportunity at Olympic glory. The moment to shine passes under a bright light, then flickers away.
No matter when it’s gone, they will always have this: They are Olympians forever.
Some display the memories with pride. For others, it’s a secret they protect for fear of reliving their heartache.
And how could anyone possibly understand?
How can we identify with Elaine Tanner, who won two silver medals in the 1968 Olympics and then went into a deep depression that lasted 20 years?
How could we know what it’s like to be Sherron Walker, who admits that she didn’t give her all at the 1976 Olympics, or Robert Shannon, whose dreams of a 1984 medal came crashing down with an early knockout?
The truth is, we identify with these people more than the winners. Their stories are familiar, fraught with heartache and pain and the all-too-human feeling of coming up short.
The people we can’t understand are the ones who left the Olympics with something we least expect: relief.
Rusty Wailes, Kaye Hall Greff, Paul Enquist and Steve Erickson trained their whole lives for one goal, then achieved it. They won a gold medal at the Olympics. And then, just when we’d expect them to wear the decorations around their necks with pride, they’ve put them away in a box and moved on.
Because they earned something that can never be taken away.
“I used to row in the Masters races, and the guys in the other boat would get all charged up when they found out I was a gold medallist,” said Enquist, who won gold in the 1984 double sculls. “Rusty Wailes (a gold medallist in 1956 and ‘60) and I used to compete together, and he could see how much it got to me when I’d lose.
“He gave me the best advice I’ve ever gotten. He told me, ‘You’ve already got your gold medal, so you’ve got nothing to prove to anyone.’ That was great advice. I don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”
When you’ve given your greatest performance on the most visible stage in the world, the proof is right there for everyone to remember.
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