A Cruel Encounter

As much as I enjoy watching the Olympics, there are several aspects of these time-honored games that disturb me.

First, the pressure to perform within certain distance and time parameters seems a bit unfair. There is no second chance, no mañana, it’s now or never. Ice skating is a prime example. In figure skating, you are given two minutes and fifteen seconds to prove to the world that you are the best.

For an imaginary moment, let’s step out onto the ice and feel the heat. “The world is watching. Thousands of dollars and as many man-hours of practice have brought you here for this moment. Don’t blow it!”

A hush falls over the crowd as the music begins. You have been here before, but only in your dreams. What trophy room would best display the Olympic gold? How would you handle all the publicity? What would it be like to be called the best in the world? But you’re no longer dreaming—you’re on the ice and the first two minutes of your per­formance have been flawless. There are just fifteen seconds between you and the gold medal you have waited for and worked for all your life. Suddenly, there’s a split-second lapse of memory, and a required critical spin is overlooked. It’s too late, the music is unforgiving, and so are the judges. There’s no grace, no forgiveness, no tomorrow. Your hopes and dreams have been dashed against the rocks of misfortune. It’s all over.

Exaggeration? Hardly. Just ask Ilia Malinin from Fairfax, Virginia. He was the favorite to take home the gold but he fell twice, ending his hopes. Many years ago at the Lake Placid Olympics, Randy Gardner pulled a muscle during a practice session and was unable to compete. It was a nightmare. The red, white, and blue would not be hoisted that afternoon. The National Anthem was silenced by a pulled hamstring.

My second concern regarding the Olympics has to do with the selection of sporting events. Who decides what sports qualify to be included in the Olympics? Have you seen the luge? Don’t get me wrong—I like the luge. But let’s be honest: How can you be considered the best in the world at a sport that only eight people have ever heard of? Out of those eight only four have access to a practice course. And you really have to question the sanity of the driver. There he is lying on his back, traveling at 75 mph down an icy labyrinth. The winners always have names like Yen Yenson or Egor Pordanski. If I decide to compete in 2030, where can I practice? Did you know that there is not one luge course in Franklin, Tennessee? Not one! I hope Yen’s mother doesn’t read this.

My third and final gripe, wouldn’t you know it, has to do with the sponsors. Every product known to man is the official product for the 2026 Winter Olympics. Budweiser is the official beer, and M&M’s are the official snack food. Come on! Can’t you just see these physically fit, alpine athletes chasing down M&M’s with a Bud Lite? The world never ceases to amaze me. However, there is a spiritual gold that we strive for (Phil. 3:14). And that is pure gold.

Mike Minter
Your Official Pastor for the 2026 Olympics