The same language

I’ve really enjoyed watching the Olympics. I’ve watched more horses, more fencing, kayaking, rowing, handball, water polo, swimming, gymnastics, table tennis, field hockey, weight lifting, judo, volleyball, diving, soccer, cycling, shooting, archery. I haven’t watched basketball because the NBA guys bore me.

I can’t help myself watching diving. I have to say “no splash!” like from Peter Pan when I watch them go in.

I’ve decided that I like handball. It’s fast paced and involves a lot of team work. It’s not a sport I plan on picking up, but it’s sure fun to watch.

I saw a little bug on the soccer ball when they did a close-up of it once. That bug was getting ready for a big ride. I wonder if the bugs have Olympics where they see who can hold onto the ball the longest.

In some ways it’s the older competitors that are more inspiring for me. Like the Japanese equestrian rider who is 70 years old and isn’t sure about Rio in four years because his horse might be too old. With so many of them half my age or so hitting the peak of their athletic career, it’s nice to see those that are older than me with more to look forward to.

One thing I have noticed, everyone chelebrates in the same language. No matter where you are from, excitement is celebrated with raised hands and a slight variation on “Yea!” Emotions are the same no matter where you go. You can even do it immediately after a dive off the equivalent of a three story building. And by immediately, I mean having just entered the water and still underneath the surface.

And for anyone who cares (which might just be Brett, who wanted it on the books somewhere), Brett is the best husband for me in the world. (He heard about the best breast stroke swimmer in all of Danish history and thought that was a strange title and wanted one of his own.)