I am missing the Olympics that ended.  A two-week season packed full with lots of different events and challenges is just right for a fair weather fan like me.  I love sports.  Still, watching other people play them on TV doesn’t usually keep my attention for any length of time. 

While following a team or an athlete brings about its own thrills and chills, I am more the experiential type.  I like to run, skip, and play myself.  I don’t care if I play well or look good.  I just like to play, especially outdoors and with as little extra equipment as possible. 

Two intense weeks of watching the Olympics on TV every two years is just about right.  This year, I was utterly fascinated by the story of the speed skater whose coach who sent him into the wrong lane in the 10,000 meter final.  Beneath the sting of such a costly mistake during a sporting moment in which there is no room for error must be a relationship of complete trust between athlete and coach.  I suppose that is why the error in judgement was so tragically captivating.

When I first saw what happened, I began to wonder if I ever trusted anybody enough to follow directions without thinking through whether or not the instruction was the right move to make.  For me, there is always a pause.  It’s not a silent pause.  The audiotape sounds something like, “and if your friend jumps off a bridge, you’ll follow?” 

I have avoided master – disciple relationships my entire life.  I recognize them in family structures, academics, organizations, sports, and all the arts. There have been many fleeting moments in my life, so far, in which I wanted to be a disciple to a certain master.  None of them ever really stuck.