Why Misty May and Kerri Walsh winning was so important to me.
I haven't updated in a while...so I figured I'd post this here as well as Tumblr. It's something of a personal post, but not anything really intense.
After the Belmont Stakes and the Olympic swimming trials, it wasn’t surprising for my family and close friends to hear I’ve gone MaWa crazy since these Olympics have started.
As obvious as it’s been online, it hasn’t been any different off the internet. Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings were my pick for this entire Olympics, and events in swimming and horse racing this past year had made me even more feel the need for them to win.
First, the sport I’ve been the most invested in watching for eight years was home to the crushing disappointment that I’ll Have Another, the Triple Crown hopeful, was scratched from the Belmont Stakes with a tendon injury. That just about wrecked me. I cried. I punched a wall. I was devastated that he never even had a chance to run his race for immortality.
Then, later that month, there was the Olympic Swimming Trials in Nebraska. Trying for the team was Dara Torres, the ‘other story’ in Beijing, other than Phelps’ quest to break Spitz’s record for most gold medals, the forty one year old mother who came within a finger nail of a gold medal in the fifty meter freestyle. There was also Janet Evans, who I have met, who hadn’t swam competitively in years and decided recently to get back in the pool. And there was Natalie Coughlin, who I’ve always loved and associated with gold. I bought a Coughlin cap from Speedo a few years ago at a swim meet. All of them failed to measure up to what they were known for. Torres and Evans failed to qualify. Coughlin only made it to London for a relay, and was not given a spot in the finals, though she did get a medal for being part of the relay.
It was after all this disappointment that I found something out that I had somehow, in the middle of my first year of college and waiting for the results of the Triple Crown and the swimming, missed. Misty May, who last I’d heard was retired, was back for London, and she and Kerri Walsh were going to try for their third straight gold.
When I found out, embarrassingly close to the Opening Ceremonies, I almost started crying. This was prior to Coughlin only swimming prelims, but after Torres and Evans failed to qualify, and after my weeks of depression following I’ll Have Another’s scratch from the third leg of the Triple Crown. The names Misty May and Kerri Walsh were the first that I’d associated with United States Olympic athletes. I paid attention to the swimming and equestrian events in Athens, the first Olympics I really paid attention to (I was eleven), but I was always asking “is that Amanda Beard? Is that Beezie Madden?” I always knew who May and Walsh were. I knew they always won. It was just what they did.
Back in Beijing, I cheered for Torres and for Phelps and for the runners and the riders and for the beach volleyball players. I had to ask who qualified for the riding team and, with the exception of Phelps and Coughlin, who were medaling in everything they dove into, I wasn’t sure who was swimming either. I knew that Misty and Kerri would be there, and once again they remained undefeated in sets and in matches, standing up on the top of the podium when it was all over.
And then I heard that Misty had retired. I wasn’t sure what Kerri would do. They were a dream team. I guess I assumed she’d retire or get another partner that she wouldn’t have such chemistry with. So I fell out of following beach volleyball because MaWa wasn’t there.
And then they came back in London. I was still upset over I’ll Have Another - and I still am. I don’t think I’ll get over that ‘what if’ for a long time. I was still sad that Torres hadn’t made it, and that Evans hadn’t even finished in the top half of the field in the trials (though I know she’s not upset about it at all). As the swimming progressed was still shocked that Phelps and Lochte weren’t winning everything in sight and that Coughlin wasn’t a part of the final.
During week one of the swimming, my sister and I had a conversation that we’d had during the trials. Everything was changing. Athletes we’d idolized growing up weren’t around anymore, or were trying and failing to be as good as they once were. People we’d sort of thought, in our minds, were always going to be there, weren’t. We even resented (such resentment has since faded, it was just a bit of denial) some of the new swimmers for coming in and replacing our old heroes.
But amid all this change, one thing hadn’t.
Well, two things.
Misty May and Kerri Walsh entered London and proceeded to continue what, as long as we could remember, they just did. Winning. Every match. It didn’t matter that they lost one set. They came back in 21-8. And with each game, they got closer to doing what no one had done in beach volleyball before, win three gold medals. I watched them, rooted for them, screamed like the fangirl I am whenever they won a match and inched closer. And I always knew that after they won, they’d hug and Kerri’d kiss Misty on the side of the face and then they’d face the crowd and Kerri would run around high fiving, as the announcer put it “anyone who will listen” and that Misty would be yelling “this is for the troops!” and “GO DODGERS!” into the camera. And then it didn’t matter to me anymore that my childhood idols in swimming weren’t around anymore. The first Olympians I knew by name were still here, and still doing what they’ve always done.
When they beat China to advance to the Gold Medal Match, Kerri whirled around and the way she looked at Misty was something that I can’t even describe. I could try to say that her face said “we’re going to do it” or “we’re here” but I think it was all of that and more. When I found out via Twitter that after winning the first set in the final and were now 18-14, I was at work and I ran to my mother and said “they have to fall apart to lose. And they don’t fall apart.” When I was sent on an errand for my boss shortly after hearing the result, I got in the car and burst into happy tears.
And that night on TV when the other United States team hit the ball out of bounds on the gold medal match and Kerri fell to the sand and Misty threw her arms in the air and American Flags were being waved and the announcer was going as crazy as the Belmont Stakes announcer would have been had I’ll Have Another won his Triple and they hugged each other for a long time before being pulled into the stands by their family members, I wanted to cry all over again. I settled for tearing up. I felt that way because it was familiar. When everything else changed, when other athletes were gone, these two women were defying history and the age that was a factor in other Olympic events. And because with the entire world improving in the sport, Misty and Kerri remained undefeated in the Olympics and fulfilled their dream. And now that Misty is for sure retiring, that will change, too. But now I have new swimmers to idolize, people who will be back in Rio. And at my age, nineteen, I am getting used to change. But after the Olympic Trials, I wasn’t quite ready to realize that that generation of athletes, the ones I associate the Olympics with, were gone, or were not doing what they once did. I will always love them. I am no less proud of my autograph from Evans, and I still have my cap that says Coughlin. But as a teenager who maybe gets too emotional sometimes, I will forever be happy that Misty and Kerri were there one more time, because I love them, but also for me, because they were the one constant that has remained throughout my Olympic memory, and they were just as good, if not better, than they ever were. And as strange as that sounds, after this past year, I really, really needed that.
Thank you, Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings. You guys make me proud to be an American. You remind me of how wonderful the close relationship that athletes share is. And you give me confidence in being able to succeed in what I want to in my life.
You two are my heroes.
After the Belmont Stakes and the Olympic swimming trials, it wasn’t surprising for my family and close friends to hear I’ve gone MaWa crazy since these Olympics have started.
As obvious as it’s been online, it hasn’t been any different off the internet. Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings were my pick for this entire Olympics, and events in swimming and horse racing this past year had made me even more feel the need for them to win.
First, the sport I’ve been the most invested in watching for eight years was home to the crushing disappointment that I’ll Have Another, the Triple Crown hopeful, was scratched from the Belmont Stakes with a tendon injury. That just about wrecked me. I cried. I punched a wall. I was devastated that he never even had a chance to run his race for immortality.
Then, later that month, there was the Olympic Swimming Trials in Nebraska. Trying for the team was Dara Torres, the ‘other story’ in Beijing, other than Phelps’ quest to break Spitz’s record for most gold medals, the forty one year old mother who came within a finger nail of a gold medal in the fifty meter freestyle. There was also Janet Evans, who I have met, who hadn’t swam competitively in years and decided recently to get back in the pool. And there was Natalie Coughlin, who I’ve always loved and associated with gold. I bought a Coughlin cap from Speedo a few years ago at a swim meet. All of them failed to measure up to what they were known for. Torres and Evans failed to qualify. Coughlin only made it to London for a relay, and was not given a spot in the finals, though she did get a medal for being part of the relay.
It was after all this disappointment that I found something out that I had somehow, in the middle of my first year of college and waiting for the results of the Triple Crown and the swimming, missed. Misty May, who last I’d heard was retired, was back for London, and she and Kerri Walsh were going to try for their third straight gold.
When I found out, embarrassingly close to the Opening Ceremonies, I almost started crying. This was prior to Coughlin only swimming prelims, but after Torres and Evans failed to qualify, and after my weeks of depression following I’ll Have Another’s scratch from the third leg of the Triple Crown. The names Misty May and Kerri Walsh were the first that I’d associated with United States Olympic athletes. I paid attention to the swimming and equestrian events in Athens, the first Olympics I really paid attention to (I was eleven), but I was always asking “is that Amanda Beard? Is that Beezie Madden?” I always knew who May and Walsh were. I knew they always won. It was just what they did.
Back in Beijing, I cheered for Torres and for Phelps and for the runners and the riders and for the beach volleyball players. I had to ask who qualified for the riding team and, with the exception of Phelps and Coughlin, who were medaling in everything they dove into, I wasn’t sure who was swimming either. I knew that Misty and Kerri would be there, and once again they remained undefeated in sets and in matches, standing up on the top of the podium when it was all over.
And then I heard that Misty had retired. I wasn’t sure what Kerri would do. They were a dream team. I guess I assumed she’d retire or get another partner that she wouldn’t have such chemistry with. So I fell out of following beach volleyball because MaWa wasn’t there.
And then they came back in London. I was still upset over I’ll Have Another - and I still am. I don’t think I’ll get over that ‘what if’ for a long time. I was still sad that Torres hadn’t made it, and that Evans hadn’t even finished in the top half of the field in the trials (though I know she’s not upset about it at all). As the swimming progressed was still shocked that Phelps and Lochte weren’t winning everything in sight and that Coughlin wasn’t a part of the final.
During week one of the swimming, my sister and I had a conversation that we’d had during the trials. Everything was changing. Athletes we’d idolized growing up weren’t around anymore, or were trying and failing to be as good as they once were. People we’d sort of thought, in our minds, were always going to be there, weren’t. We even resented (such resentment has since faded, it was just a bit of denial) some of the new swimmers for coming in and replacing our old heroes.
But amid all this change, one thing hadn’t.
Well, two things.
Misty May and Kerri Walsh entered London and proceeded to continue what, as long as we could remember, they just did. Winning. Every match. It didn’t matter that they lost one set. They came back in 21-8. And with each game, they got closer to doing what no one had done in beach volleyball before, win three gold medals. I watched them, rooted for them, screamed like the fangirl I am whenever they won a match and inched closer. And I always knew that after they won, they’d hug and Kerri’d kiss Misty on the side of the face and then they’d face the crowd and Kerri would run around high fiving, as the announcer put it “anyone who will listen” and that Misty would be yelling “this is for the troops!” and “GO DODGERS!” into the camera. And then it didn’t matter to me anymore that my childhood idols in swimming weren’t around anymore. The first Olympians I knew by name were still here, and still doing what they’ve always done.
When they beat China to advance to the Gold Medal Match, Kerri whirled around and the way she looked at Misty was something that I can’t even describe. I could try to say that her face said “we’re going to do it” or “we’re here” but I think it was all of that and more. When I found out via Twitter that after winning the first set in the final and were now 18-14, I was at work and I ran to my mother and said “they have to fall apart to lose. And they don’t fall apart.” When I was sent on an errand for my boss shortly after hearing the result, I got in the car and burst into happy tears.
And that night on TV when the other United States team hit the ball out of bounds on the gold medal match and Kerri fell to the sand and Misty threw her arms in the air and American Flags were being waved and the announcer was going as crazy as the Belmont Stakes announcer would have been had I’ll Have Another won his Triple and they hugged each other for a long time before being pulled into the stands by their family members, I wanted to cry all over again. I settled for tearing up. I felt that way because it was familiar. When everything else changed, when other athletes were gone, these two women were defying history and the age that was a factor in other Olympic events. And because with the entire world improving in the sport, Misty and Kerri remained undefeated in the Olympics and fulfilled their dream. And now that Misty is for sure retiring, that will change, too. But now I have new swimmers to idolize, people who will be back in Rio. And at my age, nineteen, I am getting used to change. But after the Olympic Trials, I wasn’t quite ready to realize that that generation of athletes, the ones I associate the Olympics with, were gone, or were not doing what they once did. I will always love them. I am no less proud of my autograph from Evans, and I still have my cap that says Coughlin. But as a teenager who maybe gets too emotional sometimes, I will forever be happy that Misty and Kerri were there one more time, because I love them, but also for me, because they were the one constant that has remained throughout my Olympic memory, and they were just as good, if not better, than they ever were. And as strange as that sounds, after this past year, I really, really needed that.
Thank you, Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh Jennings. You guys make me proud to be an American. You remind me of how wonderful the close relationship that athletes share is. And you give me confidence in being able to succeed in what I want to in my life.
You two are my heroes.