We will watch though — because sports — but that doesn’t mean we can’t point out flaws where we see them (we have, and we will). But there’s no doubt that every four years brings story lines we didn’t expect and feel-good stories we didn’t know we wanted. Along with that comes the burden of pointing out how ridiculously corrupt the whole endeavor can be and how bad for host cities they often turn out to be.
But forget that for just a second and take a moment to remember your favorite moment from an Olympic Games — the summer kind, for now, please. Got one? Nice!
Now check and see if it’s on our list...
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2 / 8
1996 Atlanta: A bomb, dominating Dawes, & those shoes!
1996 Atlanta: A bomb, dominating Dawes, & those shoes!
Image: AP
I don’t have a favorite Olympic moment, because I just have a favorite Olympics. I was in Atlanta in 1996, and while we weren’t able to get tickets to anything, I remember what it felt like to be around the last Summer Games this country has hosted. A bomb went off. Shaq broke my heart and destroyed my favorite duo by bolting on Penny Hardaway to join the Lakers. The ’96 women’s basketball team was ridiculous. Michael Johnson had a gold chain on to match his gold shoes. And at the age of 12, you couldn’t tell me that Dominique Dawes wasn’t going to be my wife one day. I’ll always remember the ’96 games because they took place in my favorite place on Earth and in the middle of my favorite decade.
Only the ’90s could give you that much drama in a three-week span.
— Carron J. Phillips
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3 / 8
2008 Beijing: Phelps by a fingertip
2008 Beijing: Phelps by a fingertip
Image: AP
I started swimming competitively when I was six years old, and to me, Michael Phelps was more than an elite athlete; he was an untouchable titan. No one could beat him at his best, and the 2008 Beijing Olympics only confirmed that theory. Phelps destroyed the field in every race he participated in...except one. The 100 meter butterfly was supposed to be Phelps’ best event. If someone beat him in that event, Phelps would lose that unstoppable aura surrounding him.
Phelps hit the turn in sixth place, almost a full second behind the racer in first. I thought all hope was lost, but then, as if on queue, Phelps stormed back, slowly creeping up on the leader, Milorad Cavic. When the racers hit the wall for the finish, everyone was so sure that Phelps had lost, but magically Phelps’ name popped up in first place.
The picture of Phelps barely out-touching Cavic by .01 seconds still gives me goosebumps.
— Jon Hoefling
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4 / 8
2016 Rio: Ryan Lochte, wyd?
2016 Rio: Ryan Lochte, wyd?
Image: AP
I’ll never forget when Ryan Lochte embodied the spirit of America by getting his stupid, entitled ass charged with a crime in Brazil. Vandalizing a gas station, then lying to the police about it, the — years later — embarking on a dumb-ass apology tour to tell the whole world how he’s grown and learned from that moment. He “over-exaggerated” the story. That’s an awful lot of syllables to say “lied.”
America! For fuck’s sake.
— Thomas Laforgia
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5 / 8
1984 L.A. & 1988 Seoul: A hometown hero & an ugly turn
1984 L.A. & 1988 Seoul: A hometown hero & an ugly turn
Image: AP
In 1984, Carl Lewis won a lot of gold medals. I was going on nine, and didn’t really comprehend much about what was happening with the first Olympics I actually paid attention to, other than that Lewis hailed from Willingboro, N.J. — where I spent a good part of my summers at my uncle’s house playing with my cousins. (It also meant a few days at Great Adventure where I got my Scream Machine on, aww yeah, but I digress...)
Anyhoo, Willingboro was abuzz that year with all things Carl. There were newspaper articles posted in the library, banners hung on the school... it was the first time I related to an athlete being “of Earth,” so to speak, and not handed down from the gods, like my early-childhood idol, Reggie Jackson. (As an aside, the next season, Rickey Henderson was traded to my Yankees and instantly became my all-time favorite, not to mention the sport’s GOAT.)
But here was a guy in Lewis who my cousin knew someone who knew someone who knew him — holy crap! So I remember cheering him on then — and again in 1988. I was pissed when he lost to Ben Johnson in the 100-meter final in Seoul — on my 13th birthday no less! Johnson blew away the field, including Lewis, with a world record time. But then I got my first life lesson in cheating, when two days later Johnson was stripped of his gold for a positive steroid result in what became known as the “Dirtiest Race in History.” There’s a lot to unpack, but essentially six of eight racers tested positive for something, including Lewis, who nevertheless was handed the gold upon Johnson’s DQ. Read up about how it all shook out — it’s a wild ride!
And the whole experience taught little Richie that sports isn’t always what it seems and sometimes even the hometown idol falls.
— Rich O’Malley
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6 / 8
2004 Athens: ¡Viva!
2004 Athens: ¡Viva!
Image: AP
In 1979, Bobby Knight had been coaching Team USA at the Pan-American Games, which were being held in Puerto Rico. Knight was arrested for assaulting a police officer, and also reportedly called him the n-word. Team USA, led by Isiah Thomas, won the gold, and after the game, Knight told reporters that the only thing Puerto Rican were good at was “growing bananas.” He also allegedly mooned the island on his way out, pressing his bare white ass on the window as they departed.
Fast forward 25 years later, Puerto Rico opened up the 2004 Olympic Games with an end-to-end 92-73 ass whooping on Team USA to begin group play. A then Utah Jazz point guard by the name of Carlos Arroyo exploded for 24 points, seven assists, and four steals on 9-for-16 shooting, breaking ankles along the way. It was Team USA’s first loss in 16 years. On the CNN game story, they noted that, “As Arroyo left the court with just over a minute left, he defiantly pulled at the words “Puerto Rico” on his jersey.” ¡Viva Puerto Rico!
— Bryan Fonseca
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7 / 8
1996 Atlanta: The Greatest shines his light
1996 Atlanta: The Greatest shines his light
Image: Getty Images
For me there is one moment: Muhammad Ali lighting the torch at the 1996 Atlanta Games. I didn’t even see it live, yet found myself wiping away the tears that streamed down my face as I looked up at the TV of a restaurant bar. I still remember exactly where I was.
Ali had such a storied professional career that his gold in Rome in 1960, fighting as Cassius Clay back then, had been greatly overshadowed. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it was, for the most part, forgotten. That skinny kid from Lousivillle, The Louisville Lip, had won the heavyweight belt a record three times since Rome, and had stepped into the ring for some of boxing’s most memorable bouts, like the “I Shuck up the World” title win over Sonny Liston in Miami, The Fight of the Century vs. Joe Frazier at the Garden, The Rumble in the Jungle vs. George Foreman in Zaire and The Thrilla in Manila vs. Frazier again, their third and final meeting. So seeing Ali standing there, having taken the flame from swimming great Janet Evans, it was like finding a lost friend, finding that beaming, beautiful young man again we hadn’t seen in years, the Olympic rings just beneath his right shoulder. It was a wonderful surprise, because it made all the sense in the world to have Evans do the honors, but to then see Ali step into the foreground and take the flame onto his torch, and hold it out in front of him, his hand and body shaking from Parkinson’s, his affliction exposed to the world, I broke down. There he was, a man this country had once arrested for his refusal to fight in Vietnam because of his Islamic beliefs — a decision that cost him three prime years of his career before the Supreme Court ruled in his favor, unanimously — a man once despised by the establishment for his bold, brash and mouthy ways, as well as his conversion to Islam, was now being celebrated in every corner of this country.
A day or so later I heard longtime sports broadcaster and Today Show host Bryant Gumble sum it up best when he said, “If you had told somebody in 1968 that in 1996 Muhammad Ali would be the most beloved individual on earth, and the mere sight of him holding an Olympic torch would bring people to tears, you’d have won a lot of bets.”
It’s the lasting moment of a man finally embraced for what he was, one of the greatest Americans of the 20th century.
