The Talk of New York U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! By Bob Yampolsky	フレームで見る  英文をプリントする  脚注をプリントする
ようやく閉幕した愛国五輪 ソルトレーク五輪が閉幕しました。開催国アメリカは、冬季五輪で過去最多のメダル数を獲得、テレビの高視聴率を記録し、心配されたテロ攻撃もなく、大成功だったといいます。しかし、開閉会式での愛国演出、審判の不正疑惑などで他国の反感を買ったのも事実。ニューヨーカーの筆者はどんな思いで見ていたのでしょう。

The Olympics, thank god, are over. To be sure, from the accounts I hear, the Salt Lake City Games were a resounding success — that is, the U.S. team got a record medal haul, the TV ratings were sky-high and there were no incidents of terrorism. Even the Mormons (whom most of America tends to regard as well-mannered but slightly odd relatives) were on their best behavior and did not attempt to convert the international visitors to their creed.

Still, let's be honest: when it comes to the obscure sports of the Winter Games, Americans really couldn't care less. Curling (a butt of jokes here, i.e.: "Women like it, because they get to see men pushing brooms"), bobsled, luge, skeleton — it's hard to say which Americans find more surprising: that people actually devote their lives to these sports, or that people will actually go stand in the cold to watch them. (My Microsoft Word spell-check function, I note, does not recognize the word "luge.") In any case, when you're not interested in the sport per se, you simply end up waving the flag and cheering for your countrymen.

So while it was fun to watch Apolo Anton Ohno (whose Japanese father Yuki got much good press for the way he single-handedly raised the boy), I have to admit that I never even knew there was a sport called short-track speed skating until these Games.

The South Koreans, though, apparently did not have much fun watching him when he won a gold medal at the expense of their disqualified skater. The disqualification was, at the very least, questionable, but the press here (which went wild over the ice skating scandal) only noted that the South Koreans, who are rabid short-track fans, were upset, with 16,000 threatening e-mails overloading the IOC server.

And it's my understanding that the Russians, too, weren't too happy, with Mr. Putin and the Duma expressing their official unhappiness. They complained about bias and unfairness in judging, but I am sure they weren't too thrilled by the general tenor for these Games set at the opening ceremony.

In case you were fortunate enough to miss seeing the ceremony, it climaxed (if something so interminable can have a climax) with the lighting of the Olympic flame by the members of the 1980 gold medal hockey team.

This game is part of the American mythology now: the young American collegians against the veteran Soviet team. No one gives the Americans a chance, but they win! The crowd erupts "U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" It's "The Miracle on Ice!" And the next thing you know, Reagan is elected president and the Soviet Union crumbles. You think this might have rubbed the Russians the wrong way?

Incidentally, as far as I know, that game was the first time that "U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" chant was used. It's not the most gracious of chants, particularly for a host nation; unfortunately, though, it seems as if "U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" was the theme of this year's Games.

"U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" was also what the steelworkers and rescue workers at ground zero chanted when President Bush came in September and told them how America would fight back. Here in the U.S., the line between nationalism and sports is not always clear. We sing the national anthem (which is a war song: "the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air . . .") before sporting events. American football (a real sport, unlike ice dancing, with "bombs" and "blitzes" and "sacks") is a metaphor for war: a fight for territory between two armies. So the world will have to forgive us if we get a little carried away ("U.S.A.! U.S.A.!") when an American wins a bronze in the bobsled.

When the tattered World Trade Center flag flew at the World Series in October (in which the New York Yankees played), it was a moving site. When the same flag appeared at the Super Bowl in New Orleans between two non-New York teams, it seemed a bit stagy, and it was a little difficult to see the connection. And when it was trotted out in February for the Olympics, it did not seem appropriate; what country among those participating had not suffered from war? And though our wounds might be the freshest, it would be presumptuous of us to imagine that they are any deeper than those of other countries.

Life in New York is pretty much back to normal now; 9-11 seems pretty long ago already, and you don't see so many flags as you did in the fall. I find that 9-11 comes up in conversation only when I talk to friends that I haven't spoken with in a while. The subway service has gotten a little ragged, and with the economy down it's a lot easier to hail a cab.

But perhaps the biggest change is this: If you go downtown you'll notice that suddenly there's a lot more light. It's not anything to be happy about, of course: The buildings are gone, and thousands of people died. Bittersweet though it may be, New York, since 9-11, has become sadder, wiser and, literally, brighter. I wish I could say the same about the nation as a whole.

Shukan ST: March 8, 2002

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