Heart of a Champion

Every 2 years the world pauses just a bit from everything that is normal and routine and gets swept up in the phenomenon that is The Olympics. A chance to gather all of the world's best athletes in one spot and revel in the glory of their chosen discipline. A chance to cheer for your nation, to cheer for the underdog, to sing tales of unsung heroes.

We know all the big names...Michael Phelps, Nadia Comaneci, Jesse Owens, Dorothy Hamill, Apolo Ono...the list goes on and on. But there was an athlete several years back that was the epitome of "courage" to me. His name was Eric Moussambani. He was from Equatorial Guinea. He was a swimmer, coming to compete in the 100 meter freestyle.

And prior to arriving in Sydney, Australia for the 2000 summer games, he had never even laid eyes on an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

The International Olympic Committee, in an effort to draw in poorer nations has a wild card draw to give some of these athletes an opportunity to compete. Eric had only been swimming about 8 months. He practiced in a 66 ft pool at a hotel. (An Olympic pool is 160 ft.) Now here he was on the starting blocks of a what must have seemed like a lake to him, waiting for the gun to go off in the biggest race of his life on the biggest stage in the world.

No doubt there were nerves, as evidenced by his two competitors. Before the starting shot was fired, both fell into the water and were promptly disqualified. And Eric stood alone. The gun went off and in he went, about to face the longest 1 minute and 52 seconds of his life. By comparison, the winner of the 100 m would finish in 47.84 seconds. But time wasn't the issue in this heat. It was just about his being there with the impossible laid out in front of him....and not backing down.

It wasn't easy. I remember watching him thinking first he'd never make it to the wall. When he finally did and touched to flip, I was afraid he was never going to come back up from under the water. As the spectators held their breath, suddenly he bobbed up, moving ever slower still. It didn't look good. It didn't look like he'd make it. They said there were lifeguards standing ready to jump in and get him. He was really struggling.

But then something happened. The crowd, who had been politely watching, suddenly realized what kind of effort was being put forth, and they started to cheer. Not just applauding him...but CHEERING for him. Cheering that slowly swelled around the pool like the ocean waves crashing on a beach. They cheered and cheered as if the only gold medal ever to be awarded was at stake. They cheered for his courage...courage to start the race, and the courage to finish it. They cheered to let him know that in that huge, vast pool of water that he was struggling through...he was not alone. They cheered to bring him to the end of this unbelievable journey he had started.

Later Eric made the statement that he "could hear them (the crowd) and it helped me get to the end. Thanks to the crowd, I made it. I'm going to jump and dance all night in celebration of my personal triumph."

When you think about it....isn't that really what it's all about? All of us....just helping each other make it. At some point or another we all end up jumping in that pool in life...unsure, unprepared for the circumstances ahead, feeling so very alone. Hoping to hear someone cheering for us in the background, to give us just that small tiny spark to help us make it to the end of the race.

I've had days when I've been in the pool. And I sincerely thank everyone who stood and cheered.

I hope you'll always find me returning the favor.

And for all of us...
I hope Eric is still dancing out there somewhere in glorious celebration.