For fun … here’s my greatest day in sportswriting:
So, this was at the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney. I mentioned here earlier that the Olympics are like nothing else in sports journalism. You become entirely and inexplicably consumed by the Games, especially at the Summer Olympics where there are always about twenty different things going on at once. It really is hard to explain the absurd enormity being in the middle of it all. From home, I always thought, the Olympics seemed pretty big. But when you are there, diving is like the World Series, water polo is like the Super Bowl, rhythmic gymnastics is like the Masters. Yes, from afar these are still diving, water polo and rhythmic gymnastics … but there, at the heart of it, you are blinded to perspective. You are bumping shoulders with reporters and fans from pretty much every country in the world. You are surrounded by sellout crowds, including many people who may have actually paid a scalper a lot of money to see that day’s beach volleyball match. You are talking only to athletes who have DEDICATED THEIR ENTIRE LIVES to be their for that one moment. You are also pretty much shut off from pennant races and NFL training camps and golf majors and presidential news and anything else that might be distracting. You are living, breathing, drinking, sleeping Olympics. It is everything.*
*I’ve always thought that after three weeks of Olympic immersion, reporters would blindly kill after being shown the Queen of Diamonds.
So, with that background, it was the day of the gold medal baseball game. Tommy Lasorda was manager of that team, you might recall. I wanted to go somewhere else. It wasn’t personal. We had someone going to the game, and I had already written about Lasorda and that team, and anyway — I don’t like baseball at the Olympics. I don’t like tennis at the Olympics. For a while they were trying to add golf — I’m glad they didn’t. I like it when the Olympics are CLEARLY the most important event in your sport.
So, I was looking for something cool to write about — this is a big thing at the Olympics. The thing is so vast that most of the time when something cool happens, you are 10 miles away watching something decidedly uncool like the ancient Pocket Hercules failing to lift weight*.
*OK, quickly, have to tell this Olympic story. So in 1996, in Atlanta, I saw the great weightlifter Pocket Hercules win a gold medal in front of a wild crowd and it was one of the cooler sports moments of my life. I’m not going to go into that except to say that for the next four years, I kept telling my buddy Vac how great this Pocket Hercules story was. I mean I PEPPERED him with Pocket Hercules teasers. “Oh man, you should have been there.” So in 2000, Vac basically went to the Olympics for one reason only — he was GOING TO SEE Pocket Hercules lift weights.
So we go to the event and … well, it’s not the same Pocket Hercules. Now, the guy’s out of shape, uninterested, going through the motions, sort of like a weight-lifting version of Roger Dorn . If I remember right, he did not have a single successful lift. And the everlasting image from that Olympics was not the cheering crowd or the triumphant Hercules holding an impossible amount of weight over his head. No, it was a fat Pocket Hercules smoking cigarettes in the parking lot outside after he was disqualified. “Yeah,” Vac said. “Great story.” I don’t believe he has ever forgiven.
Anyway, while everyone else was heading for baseball, my friend, the impossibly cool Chuck Culpepper, told me about the unbeatable Russian wrestler. It seems there was this Russian wrestler who had never lost a an Olympic match. Ever. He had won like three Gold Medals already and, if I’m remembering correctly, he had not given up a single point in years.
Now, as someone raised on the power of Ivan Koloff and who had seen Rocky IV at least 12 times,, I was of course drawn to the story. What could be better? An unbeatable Russian wrestler. This guy was so good, there were many scalpers outside the arena. He was so good, the president of the IOC was there to give him some sort of special Olympic medal. He was apparently a very big deal in those countries that don’t have baseball, and so I thought he could make a great story.
We showed up in the arena, and like I say, it was absolutely packed. And it was loud. It was like Boston Garden hockey crowd loud. Now, I should say at this point that I did not understand the rules of Greco Roman wrestling them … and I think this should be pretty easy to believe because I don’t understand the rules of Greco Roman wrestling NOW. I just watched this Russian guy grapple with this other guy for a few seconds, and I guess it was impressive enough, though no one seemed to be reaching for a metal chair. And then suddenly, without warning, everyone in the crowd all at once shouted “OOOOOOOOH!”
“What the heck just happened?” I asked Chuck.
“I have no idea,” Chuck said.
“Something happened,” I said.
Then we looked up at the scoreboard. It turned out the other guy, whoever he was, had gotten a point. I didn’t know how he got the point then. I don’t really know how he got the point now. Apparently he broke a hold or something. Whatever — even I understood this was a big deal. The Russian had not given up a point in forever. I thought I heard the Rocky trainer saying, “You see? He’s not a machine! He’s a man!” So, I now expected the Russian to pick up this poser, fold him up into one of those paper fortune tellers* and be done with it.
*Remember those things — those little origami crafts girls in school would do, and then they would move it around with their fingers, ask you to pick a color, then a number, and then tell your fortune was “You’re ugly.” Or maybe that was just in my school.
Only … that didn’t happen. The Russian couldn’t budge this guy. And the crowd sensed that something magical was happening. They were getting louder and louder, and the clock was draining, and the Russian was trying to move this kid but nothing was happening. and the sound roared even higher, and people started stomping and clapping and going crazy, and the score was still 1-0 unknown guy, and the clock kept going down, and then I saw what to this day is one of the most emotional sports things I’ve ever seen in my life. I saw Jeter hit the homer after midnight. I saw the Rams tackle a receiver at the 1 as the Super Bowl expired. I saw Tiger Woods chip into a sunlight spot at the 16th in Augusta and watched the ball roll backward, stop for an early curtain call, and then drop into the hole. I saw a young girl land on one leg to help America win a gold medal. I saw Mario Chalmers make a three-point jump shot to tie the national championship game in the final seconds. I saw a journeyman from Japan throw a perfect game (for eight innings — then the closer finished it off) to clinch the Japan Series.
I’m not sure I ever saw anything quite like this: With the clock running out, the great Russian wrestler bowed his head and held out his hand in defeat.
Mayhem. Madness. Insanity. I turned to Chuck and asked. “What the heck did we just see?” But he couldn’t even hear me. It was that loud. Chuck and I started working our way through the crowd and to the press room, and we kept just looking at each other in sheer disbelief. This American — it turned out he was an American — had beaten the unbeatable Russian. It was like all the Rocky movies combined into one. Of course, at the time we knew NOTHING about the American — just his name. Rulon Gardner. But that was enough. What a story.
So we got into the press room, sat in the front row, and Chuck whispered to me, “This is amazing. I hope this guy’s a good story.” Then Rulon Gardner walked up on the podium, and he turned to the guy running the show, and he said: “Wow, this is pretty cool. I’ve never done a press conference before.”
Chuck and I looked at each other. Holy cow. This thing was getting better.
The first question came, and it was something like: “So, did you think you had it in you to beat the great and unbeatable Russian?”
And Rulon Gardner said: “Well, when I was growing, I used to wrestle cows on our dairy farm …”
Um. Yeah, Guy wrestled cows. Seriously, sportswriters, you DREAM of moments like this. I mean that literally. You go to sleep after having interviewed another boring golfer who started playing because his Dad was a member of the local country club or some bland pitcher who was the star of his high school team, got drafted high, got paid a sweet signing bonus, played two years in the minors and then got called to the show — and you DREAM about an American farm kid who wrestled cows and ended up winning a gold medal by beating an invincible Russian.
“He mumbled something in Russian at the end,” Rulon said. “I think it was ‘I give up.’”
So Chuck and I were dizzy when we left that press conference. It was flat incredible. The kid was funny and charming and modest and he had wrestled cows. The story could not get any better. And then we walked out, and we ran into this woman, and it turns out that she was Rulon Gardner’s mother. So we asked her when she knew that her son had a chance to be an Olympic champion. And she told us that she knew when, at a very young age, she saw Rulon carry four milk buckets at one time.
Our cup runneth over. The Mom turned out to be as great as Rulon — she invited Chuck and me up to her part of Wyoming to go fishing because, “that’s where Wilford Brimley fishes — you know, the Quaker Oats guy?” This was the story that just did not stop giving. We said good bye, and we raced back to our chairs, and sat behind our computers, and we looked at each other, and Chuck said, “How the heck do we even write this? It’s too great.”
I said, “Hold on, I need to find out a little bit about Rulon’s town … see if they’re excited back home.” There was obviously a huge time difference … it was morning, I guess, back in Wyoming. Rulon, as I recall, was from a place called Afton, Wyoming, so I called an Afton radio station to find out what the mood was like. And here’s what happened — the DJ picked up the phone, but he did not answer it. Instead, he put it down right next to him. He was on the air and could not talk.
And here’s what I heard him say: “OK, well, it’s time for the birthdays. Happy birthday to Steve Johnson over there on Coventry Road, he’s 41 today. Way to go Steve. Happy birthday to little Timmy Wilkins, can you believe he’s already 11 …”
And then, suddenly: “We’re going to have to dispense with the birthdays. We have some breaking news …”
I wobbled back to Chuck. He said, “What did you find out?” I said: “You wouldn’t even believe it. We have wandered into the middle of Bedford Falls.”
And then it really was time to write. It was impossible. We had too much stuff. We had too much GREAT stuff. This guy was like a character out of Yankee Doodle Dandy. It couldn’t be real. Chuck and I were laughing and trying to write and laughing more … never had a story like it in our lives. People often ask me how I handle writer’s block — well knock on wood, thank my lucky stars, I’ve never had it. My thought about writer’s block is basically that my Dad worked in a factory almost his whole life, and he never had “factory block.” Sometimes the words don’t come as easily as others, but you do what you have to do.
But this wasn’t writer’s block. This was a writer’s overdose. I had no idea how to sum up a Wyoming farm boy who wrestled cows in a small town where a disc jockey reads the morning birthdays near Wilford Brimley’s fishing pond and grew up to defeat the indestructible Russian in perhaps the greatest Olympic upset going back to the days when Greeks ran naked through the …
“Excuse me,” a man said to me.
Oh boy. Who was this guy? “Yes,” I said. “Can I help you.”
“I was looking for the Gardner party,” he said. “Do you happen to know where they went?”
“Yes,” I said. “I think they went to celebrate at the Hard Rock Cafe.”
“Oh,” he said. “I have to catch up with them. I’m Rulon’s father.”
Oh oh. No. Not the father. I really, really don’t need to talk to the father right now. Why is it that when dealing with the deliberately boring athletes that fill the sports pages on a regular basis, I’ve never had a father just walk up to me.
“Well sir,” I said. “You must be very proud.”
“Oh, absolutely,” he said. “I’m just so happy to be here. I didn’t think were going to make it.”
No. Don’t ask him. Just point him toward the Hard Rock …
“Really,” I said. “Why’s that?”
“Well,” he said. “You know, we don’t really have a lot of money. So in order to raise enough money to get here I had to sell my world famous sausage stew at the Lincoln County Fair.”
And that broke it. That’s when my head exploded. The father then started telling us about someone who saved him in Korea, but I wasn’t even listening anymore. I couldn’t hear anymore. It was like being in the chocolate factory and having to eat your way out. In the end, it was a match between two men I had never heard of before, in a sport with rules I did not understand, in a place 9,000 miles away, the other side of the world. And I’ll never cover anything like it.
“Can you believe this?” Chuck said to me as we hysterically tried to finish up our stories.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” I said. “I really didn’t need that stew.”
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79 Comments, Comment or Ping
Ron
You just might be my new hero!
May 12th, 2008
Noel
Wow what a story Joe!
Sometimes reading your blog is like eating my way out of a chocolate factory. (As long as it’s not a “World’s Greatest Chocolate” factory, that is.)
May 12th, 2008
Rob
Classic Story Joe! Thanks! (and ditch the new header—lol)
May 12th, 2008
Jim
Yeah, but, didn’t Doug Mientkiewicz hit a grand slam to win the gold medal, or something? I like baseball.
May 12th, 2008
Gold Star for Robot Boy
Joe, that’s an amazing story.
You need to do the banquet tour.
(Is there really a banquet tour, or was this made up around 1956 by a sportswriter who needed to explain why Joe Slugger was hitting a buck-eighty-three at Memorial Day? “Yep, after last season, the invites for him to speak came pouring in: Elks, Moose, Shriners, Kiwanis. The Girl Scouts invited him to judge a cookie competition, I heard…”
May 12th, 2008
PC
Phenomenal story. Simply phenomenal.
May 12th, 2008
Melody
GREAT story, Joe. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Thank you.
May 12th, 2008
Ben
Sorry, I had writer’s block trying to come up with a worthwhile comment.
Great story Joe!
May 12th, 2008
Ryan
That’s one of the funniest stories I’ve read in awhile. Amazing.
May 12th, 2008
Ryan J L
Joe, I’ve been reading your blog since the beginning and loving all of it, but this one is by far the best. That’s when my head exploded.
When I read the line about the sausage stew I literally burst out laughing. I expected you to finish the article with “but it was all a dream” or something.
Amazing story.
May 12th, 2008
Minda
Joe can write about writing, and it will be the best thing any of us read all week. Stunning.
Also, I love Rulon Gardner. The photos from his final match - where he’s walking away from the mat, his shoes sitting in the circle - are very emotional, even though I know nothing of his sport.
May 12th, 2008
Andrew
I remember that article you wrote about Rulon very well. You kept telling the story from the perspective of about 20 different people, none of them fully capturing the moment, before deciding “Nope, there’s really no good way to tell this story”.
I’ve never read a sports editorial quite like it and I remember tearing it out of the newspaper and keeping it for a while. I wish that you would post it again on the blog because I want to know if it is as good as I remember.
May 12th, 2008
Andrew
Actually, here the article is and it is as good as I remember…
COPYRIGHT 2000 The Kansas City Star
Byline: Joe Posnanski
SYDNEY, Australia _ OK, let’s try to start it this way: A man named Rulon Gardner, who grew up on a Wyoming dairy farm, on Wednesday pulled off what might be the single greatest upset in Olympic history when he shocked the legendary and undefeated Russian wrestler Alexandre Karelin, no, wait, this story’s bigger than all that. Let’s try it again.
SYDNEY, Australia _ Rulon Gardner, who used to be called “Fatso,” by schoolmates when he was growing up in Afton, Wyo., defeated Russian legend Alexandre Karelin Wednesday. Karelin, a nine-time world champion and three-time Olympic champion, had never lost an international wrestling match. Wait. Stop. That doesn’t quite capture the scene, does it?
SYDNEY, Australia _ A full house of fans sat in stunned silence as Alexandre Karelin, the unbeatable force, a man who once lifted a refrigerator up seven flights of stairs because he could not find someone to help him, was beaten by Rulon Gardner 1-0 in the most shocking wrestling upset … Gotta stop using that word “shocking.”
Maybe we should start with the mother.
SYDNEY, Australia _ Virginia Gardner knew her son was strong the first time she saw him carry around four milk buckets at once. Still, she admitted she was more than a little nervous sitting in the stands watching Rulon wrestle Alexandre Karelin, a man so ferocious that twice in Olympic finals, his opponents essentially quit on the mat.
No, let’s try the Dad:
SYDNEY, Australia _ Reed Gardner made it to Australia to watch his son by selling his famous stew at the Lincoln County Fair (Ingredients: carrots, potatoes, onions, Polish sausage), but he never thought he would watch Rulon defeat Alexandre Karelin, a man dubbed “The Toughest Man In The World.”
“I hope I never wake up,” Reed says.
No, that doesn’t capture the weight of the moment. That doesn’t tell how invincible Karelin was before Wednesday. How about this:
SYDNEY, Australia _ Wrestlers always knew in their hearts they could not beat Alexandre Karelin. Beat him? Only one person in 10 years had scored on him. Karelin won every match despite broken ribs and torn muscles and opposing coaches who would spend months designing strategies just to beat him.
He was the kind of man who hauled logs through the Russian snow. He was the kind of man who would leave the home saying that he was going to work out and not return until the next day. He was the kind of man movie producers craved for the screen, but he told them, plainly, simply, “I am a Greco-Roman wrestler, not a Hollywood star.”
Sheesh, you writing a book on the guy? When do you get to actual match?
SYDNEY, Australia _ In the end, Alexandre Karelin knew he was beaten. And in one of the most stunning moments in Olympic history, Karelin bowed his head with four seconds left in the match, and he conceded defeat to American Rulon Gardner.
“He mumbled something Russian at the end,” said Gardner, whose greatest previous wrestling achievement was finishing fifth at the World Championships in 1997. “I think it was `I give up.’ ”
No, that doesn’t tell how far Rulon came for this. He’s the hero, here. We’ve got to start with him:
SYDNEY, Australia_ Rulon Gardner did not think he could do this. Guys who grow up in little Wyoming towns, on dairy farms, they don’t grow up to beat unbeatable men. But those days of bailing hay and milking cows made Gardner stronger than he ever imagined. Strong enough, even, to defeat Russia’s Alexandre Karelin.
“When you pushed against him,” Gardner said. “It was like pushing against a horse.”
No, hold on, pushing against a horse? This isn’t Green Acres, for crying out loud. Why don’t you just start the story with Gardner comparing this guy to a cow?
SYDNEY, Australia_ Rulon Gardner said Wednesday that wrestling against the invincible Alexandre Karelin was a lot like trying to push around a cow.
“Only problem is,” Gardner said, “he’s a little quicker.”
This is absurd. Maybe you should go with something personal.
SYDNEY, Australia_ I have never seen anything like this. Never in all my life. And I still don’t know what I saw. Apparently, a total nobody, a guy named Rulon Gardner, who grew up in a town in Wyoming so small that his mother placed it by saying it was close to Idaho, just beat Alexandre Karelin, the greatest wrestler who ever lived.
I say “apparently,” because I have no earthy idea what just happened. The rules are kind of confusing. Gardner scored one point when he broke out of Karelin’s grasp. And then, for the next six minutes, Karelin desperately tried to get at Gardner. I don’t know what he was doing, what moves he was trying, but it was breathtaking, watching Karelin chase and Gardner defend, chase and defend, back and forth. It was mesmerizing. It was fascinating.
“He fought the perfect match,” national Greco-Roman coach Steve Fraser said. “Absolutely perfect.”
Nah, too many “I’s” in there. How about this?
SYDNEY, Australia_ Nothing quite like this has ever happened in the Star Valley area in Western Wyoming. Well, every so often, Wilford Brimley fishes here sometimes. “You know,” Virginia Gardner says, “that Quaker Oats guy.”
But this is bigger than that. Local boy Rulon Gardner won gold in Greco-Roman wrestling. But it was much more than that. He beat the invincible man, Russia’s Alexandre Karelin. This has thrown the entire area for a loop.
“We’re going to have to dispense with the birthdays this morning,” KRSV’s Dan Dockstader reported to his listener’s early Tuesday morning. “We’ve got a lot of breaking news happening.”
Dockstader said the town of Afton, Wyo., has come alive. Signs everywhere. Hugs everywhere. Everyone was riveted to the KRSV radio, which had cut away from its usual country music. Rulon himself called in at about 4 a.m. from the Sydney Planet Hollywood. The connection broke up after a while, but not before Rulon could tell the town how thrilled he was.
“We’re going to have plenty of members of the Gardner family on during the week,” Dockstader announced.
Too folksy. What you should do is just tell them straight.
SYDNEY, Australia_ A man named Rulon Gardner, who grew up on a Wyoming dairy farm, pulled off what might be the biggest upset in Olympic history when he shocked the legendary and undefeated Russian wrestler Alexandre Karelin.
There’s nothing in sports history to compare this too, because no one in sports history was ever as unconquerable as Karelin. Three golds. Nine world championships. He had never lost an international match. Matt Ghaffari, one of the great American wrestlers, had chased Karelin around the world.
Ghaffari’s record against Karelin: 0-22.
Meanwhile, Gardner had never won a single major international tournament. He had fought Karelin once, lost 5-0, and when asked if wrestling Karelin before had given him confidence, Gardner said “Actually, what it did
was frighten me.”
But something happened inside Gardner. Something impossible to describe. Maybe it came from wrestling hard with his brothers and sisters. He is the youngest of nine. Or maybe it came out from the helplessness he felt when kids back home used to call him “Fatso.” That hurt. But it also gave him fury.
Whatever, Wednesday, he simply refused to yield to the greatest wrestler of all. He refused to be thrown. He refused to be pushed around. He went out there, in a T-shirt signed by friends and Richard Petty, with his entire family watching from the stands, and he matched the best who ever lived.
And In the gripping final seconds, it was Karelin who dropped his head in defeat.
Karelin then shook Gardner’s hand, and he walked over to American Olympic coach Dan Chandler and shook his hand as well.
“Your man did very well,” Karelin said.
No, that’s not it either.
SYDNEY, Australia_ Here’s what Rulon Gardner said after doing the impossible on Wednesday: “I can’t wait to see it on TV and see how it actually was.”
You know what? Forget it. There’s no way to tell this story.
May 12th, 2008
Andy
Wow, that’s one hell of a story. Does the resulting article still exist out there in the digital world?
By the way, you should know that I’ve purchased multiple copies of The Soul of Baseball thanks in large part to your various blogs. Thanks!
May 13th, 2008
tloney
Great read Joe, such a wonderful story in light of your allusion last week and as an answer to the blog/journalist argument, whether you meant it or not.
I remember the numerous bylines, such an effective use of that tool.
May 13th, 2008
Kyle
This post sums up everything that is great about you blogging Joe.
I’d have never heard that story in the Star.
Thanks.
May 13th, 2008
Mike S
What a great story!
May 13th, 2008
Greg T
This one wins the Bloggies.
Your sausage-flavored cow statue will be arriving in a milk pail next week.
May 13th, 2008
Mike
If I remember correctly, it was a Tuesday. And it was the most mesmerizing 10 minutes of my life. It was straight out of Rocky, but with more believeability (beyond, you know, it actually being real). Just amazing, that the Russian only lost the point on some weird procedural foul. Which meant Rulon just needed to “go the distance” and not get tackled, or something, to win. The Russian guy was jacked, Gardner was really, really fat (but could probably run a marathon). I remember sitting around in my dorm room, thumbing through stations, and stopping on the wrestling because I watched a little WWF at the time, and wondered if it bore any resemblance to original wrestling. By the middle of the second period, I was on my feet, and I don’t think I blinked for the rest of the match. Again… mesmerizing. That’s the only word that can describe it.
May 13th, 2008
Gene
Go to Wikipedia and read about all the scary survival adventures Gardner has had. Truly a larger than life guy.
May 13th, 2008
Concerned Citizen
Joe Posnanski is the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I’ve ever known in my life.
May 13th, 2008
Paul White
I am in awe. Not only at the Gardner story, which I remember well. Not only at Joe’s story of trying to write about it all, which is obviously exceptional. But, on top of all that, Joe managed to reference all of the Rocky movies AND Major League AND Yankee Doodle Dandy AND The Manchurian Candidate.
Well played, sir. Why don’t you pass the time with a game of solitaire?
May 13th, 2008
Brian
It’s pretty cool how Joe ended up perfectly writing about this by simply saying “how do I write this?” Nobody but Joe could pull that off.
May 13th, 2008
Chris
You ever see the South Park where the girls make the paper fortune teller, and the boys think it’s some secret “future telling” device, so they fake Butter’s death, dress him like a girl, and plant him in the girl’s slumber party to infiltrate and steal it??
Wait, what the hell am I talking about…this blog post and article (thanks Andrew) are too good to waste talking about South Park…but that episode was pretty bitchin’…
May 13th, 2008
D.B. Cooper
Top freakin notch. This stuff is free!!
Also, kudos to “Gold Star for Robot Boy” for the handle. GBV!
May 13th, 2008
Sam
It’s amazing what perspective does to a story. I remember accidentally flipping channels and just catching this match, not knowing anything about the history of the great Russian fighter. I’ve read all the comments so far in this blog, and I’m going against the grain here, but I couldn’t help feeling after the fight how boring it was. I don’t know anything about Greco-Roman wrestling, but I can’t imagine all fights are that defensive. It was like watching a football game where both teams run on all three downs — no one tried (or seemed to try) anything offensive at all. The only point was scored when one wrestler let go of a bear hug of the other wrestler. I guess all that stuff we found out about Rulon afterwards made for a good story, but to me it was Rulon’s life story that merited all the attention he got, not the actual sporting.
That having been said, I did enjoy your blog on the event, Joe.
May 13th, 2008
Chipmaker
I don’t follow the Olympics in general, but I remember 2000 because Ben Sheets, Roy Oswalt, and the baseball team made it to the final game against Cuba. Sheets pitched a 3-0 shutout. The USA beat Cuba!
And in USA Today the next day, the big story was some huge lug winning the gold in Greco-Roman wrestling by a score of 1-0, which in GRW apparently is something like a blowout. The baseball story was buried.
I didn’t get it. Some guy wins an obscure sport most people reading the USAT sports section had never heard of, over a Russian — and we were friendly with Russia then — and this gets all the glory, while the baseball (national pastime, yes?) team knocked off Cuba by a shutout and the media yawns? Beating Cuba in international competition was like, well, like beating the Russian wrestler, and it was CUBA! Still not officially friendly with Cuba. And they were shutout! How could this not be the spotlight story?
I never, never understood how that came about. Wrestling (real wresting, not that silly crap on teevee) over baseball, beating Russia (friends!) over beating Cuba (Castro!). And the baseball team wasn’t some overloaded Dream Team like the basketball laugher a few Olympiads earlier. These kids deserved more attention.
And then you wrote this piece.
I forgive the media, because of you, Poz.
May 13th, 2008
G Young
“Fatso.”
Too bad Pat Jordan didn’t live in Afton, Wyoming. He could’ve put the icing on this cake, made it truly Homeric.
May 13th, 2008
skott
joe p, you are the savior of the heart. you are the bastion of soul and hope in a business full of mud and greed.
seriously. you rule.
May 13th, 2008
Bob Tholkes
Second the motion that you would win the gold at a sportswriting Olympics (cue the ABC theme music). I’m trying to think of a suitable site.
Keep the header. I have a shelf of old baseball encyclopedias that looks like that.
May 13th, 2008
Dan England
As a reporter and writer myself, I was shaking my head more and more and giggling with each sentence. How the hell DO you write something like that? Sometimes you really can have too much of a good thing. Thanks for the funny and incredible story behind the story.
May 13th, 2008
JJ
I know the feeling, Poz. Down here in Hilton Head, we were pretty overwhelmed when some unknown country boy with a million stories to tell named Boo Weekley won the 2007 Verizon Heritage.
Then he won the 2008 Verizon Heritage.
Talk about the gift that keeps on giving for us sports writers.
May 13th, 2008
JRM
I gotta go lay down and rest. Too much laughter for one day. One of the funniest blogs I have ever read.
May 13th, 2008
Tony B
I read the stuff some guys write and I think, “I can do that.”
Then I read the stuff Joe writes and I realize that I can’t do that.
Great stuff Joe.
May 13th, 2008
Johnny
“Go to Wikipedia and read about all the scary survival adventures Gardner has had.”
While in grammar school, Rulon was impaled by an arrow in a show and tell incident.
Well, come on now, who HASN’T had that happen to them…
May 13th, 2008
Doug French
You know all of those “Chuck Norris would…” stories?
I’m changing them to “Rulon Gardner would…” after reading his Wikipedia page. Dude is truly larger than life.
Great read as usual, Poz. I used iGoogle to subscribe to your blog so I don’t miss another entry.
May 13th, 2008
Brett
Joe, feel free to write articles and blogs about paint drying, or grass growing. I’ll still read them. And they’ll probably be better than most sportswriters’ articles about the World Series, Super Bowl, etc.
May 13th, 2008
Jill
You know, it’s rare that any story about Chuck Culpepper surprises me. Or that any blog entry makes me burst out in laughter.
This one did both.
May 13th, 2008
BenHoak
Great post, great story, great writing. Nicely done.
May 13th, 2008
James
Unbelievable. That’s all I can say….Unbelievable. Your story about the story was one of the best stories I have ever and probably will ever read. Your one of a kind Poz, one of a kind.
May 13th, 2008
Ray
This was the best of many great posts. I read your KC newspaper articles because of your blog, but the blog articles rule over those and this one is the best!
And I bought Soul and will buy the Machine book too, on the odd chance that it’ll help you keep blogging.
May 13th, 2008
Ray
I feel like such a fanboy.
May 13th, 2008
Pat
Wow!
May 13th, 2008
Creston
As soon as you started talking about that unbeatable Russian, I knew it was the Rulon Gardner story. It was genuinely incredible. Like you, I know nothing of wrestling, and I was watching the TV in stunned silence as I saw the Russian lose.
Probably one of the greatest moments in Olympic sports.
I used to love the Olympics. Back in the 70s and 80s. When teams of the absolute best only met once every four years. When you’d see athletes for the first time, fell in love with them, only to never hear from them again after they won their gold medal.
Cheering for your countrymen who have to ASK for time off from their day jobs so they can go to the Olympics, and have their ASSHOLE bosses tell them that it’ll be without pay.
Watching your country of 16 million people and no professional sports win 11 gold medals.
Nowadays, the Olympics is just another stop on the tour for most athletes. Like hockey. It used to be that you’d see the Russians play only every four years. Nowadays they’re all in the NHL, and you never see them play, because what the heck is the Outdoor Life Network?
Many athletes have a schedule that goes “European champs, world cup, olympics, world champs, world cup, over.”
Where’s the mystery? The special Olympic feeling? How is dude A beating dude B at the Olympics any more special than dude B beating dude A at the next 6 world cup meetings?
Seriously, does winning the Olympics really mean anything to most of them? Is Michelle Kwan really “tainted” because she never won Olympic Gold? She won worlds like 7 times. Beating the exact same skaters.
One of our most famous speedskaters, Rintje Ritsma, was 7 times European champion and 5 times World champion in overall skating. (ie, the best of four distances.)
But in the Olympics, he never managed to win a Gold. He has some silvers and some bronzes. Somehow people feel this makes him unworthy of being discussed as one of the greatest skaters ever.
I really, really wish we’d go back to the Olympics of yore. With only genuinely amateur athletes competing.
In any case, that was a great story.
May 13th, 2008
Craig
Phenomenal!!!!!
May 13th, 2008
JD
Wrestling fans appreciate this blog. Thanks Joe!
May 13th, 2008
Monkeyhawk
Helluva story and brilliantly told, Joe. Both times.
I love story-behind-the-story stories, and your original account of the Gardner victory just gets better with the retro-perspective.
I hang with a lot of so-called “intellectuals” who don’t get it how I’m a sports fan. And they’re right on so many levels. A walk-off home run or a goal line stand or a clutch jump shot as the clock runs out… none of them “mean” anything in the grand scheme of things. But golly.
I know squat about hockey. But I was once in an arena when Gretsky was on the downside of his career and it was like watching Picasso paint.
Some guy talked me into going to a Chicago Bulls game one night when we happened to be in the Windy City. It was a nothing game and Michael Jordon had an injured ankle (Scottie Pippin was the star of the game) but halfway through the third quarter Jordan suddenly levitated, recreated his Nike logo, and dunked from the free throw line and I got it. It was that incredible experience of being in the same room when something remarkable happens. That’s sports.
Meaningless. Part of the whole “Bread and Circuses” attitude that supposedly ruined the Roman Empire. But…well, golly.
Remember that Japanese gymnast a few years ago who planted a two-legged dismount on one unbroken leg? (What’s his name? And what does he have to do to impress you?!)
Maybe we’re all too willing to accept compromises, to make excuses for steroids or off-the-field sins or rationalizing our favorite politicians’ human frailties. And with the best of the best in sports, we respond to how they somehow figure out the game and rise to achieve excellence. I dunno.
Anyway, speaking as one who did not succeed in baseball because, as Casey Stengle said, “…it is a game of skill,” and one who once stole a ball in an intramural 8th Grade basketball game and who, long ago, happened to hit a perfect 5-Iron shot… the emotional appeal of sports seems worthy of the best work of our best journalists.
And we’ve got that with Joe Posnanski.
May 13th, 2008
KevinD
The unwritable story about the unbeatable Russion and the unwitting American who stepped out of nowhere into the international spotlight, and you were there to capture the nuance of it like a Time Life picture forever. Absolutely classic!
For anyone who wants to read a humurous anecdotal piece about wrestling, check out The Imaginary Girlfriend by John Irving and read the middle chapter on his brief but eventful stint as a wrestling referee in Maine. Joe, you will appreciate it, I guarantee it!
May 13th, 2008
dan
I believe this is my first time commenting here…
Absolutely fabulous story Joe, I’d love for you to post a link or a copy of it somewhere for us to read.
May 13th, 2008
Karen
Wow–that is one magnificent piece of story-telling, my friend.
And about those little origami things young girls use: not just in your school. I was a young girl in two different states (K-5 in Michigan, 6 onward in New Jersey), and they were ubiquitous. We called them “cootie catchers.”
Young girls are nasty.
May 13th, 2008
Sean
Absolutely wonderful. I read it , googled Rulon Gardner, came back two hours later and read it again, then read it out loud to my wife. My thanks to Chad Finn of the Boston Globe who recommended Poz’s blog in his own.
May 13th, 2008
B. S. Blues
I am a longtime fan of the Joe blog and have long touted your genius to anyone who would listen. But this item — and the original KC Star story here in the comments — are the best pieces of sportswriting I have ever read. EVER. That’s in 51 years of life, 46 as a reader of sports journalism.
May 13th, 2008
James
What a bizarre coincidence. I was just this morning thinking about Gardner’s Olympic win and wishing someone would do a story from the Russian’s point of view. Your blog entry and original piece were the next best thing.
But if you decide to write a book about Karelin, I’ll pay for at least my copy in advance. Heck, I’ll buy ten and give them out as gifts.
May 13th, 2008
Yay Joe
Joe, we love these types of behind-the-scenes stories. More of these, please!
(And can you put up a PayPal button already. We’ll pay for this blog!)
May 13th, 2008
Kyle S.
“It was like all the Rocky movies combined into one”
-Joe Posnanski, May 12, 2008
As a budding writer and reporter I can attest to how difficult it is to get that one great story. To have that one great story just fall into your lap, and not only fall into your lap but sit their and punch you the gut is truly a rare thing. I can only dream to be in the position some day where I will have to tell the story that can’t be told, only witnessed.
Thank you Mr. Posnanski, you have ignited the pilot light inside me that was beginning to lose its gas. I always appreciate your work and always look forward to your posts.
May 13th, 2008
Hewins
Apparently this dude is Batman. He survived a plane crash into a lake and then swam for an hour to save himself.
May 14th, 2008
Justyo
Joaldo my man. Your dismissal of writers block is an instant classic.
May 14th, 2008
DosCarlos
Fantastic post. I’m a big fan of the Olympics anyways, but your coverage of the Sydney Games was unbelievable. Even the little updates about how hard it is to find Foster’s in Australia were great. I look forward to reading your work from Beijing, if you’re going.
May 14th, 2008
greg
My favorite blog of all time, I only wish wrestling got more coverage. Just great.
May 14th, 2008
Eric
I think the “why?” was answered over and over by Jim McKay.
“The human drama of athletic competition.”
May 14th, 2008
Shonepup
I have chills….nothing more I can really say
May 14th, 2008
Kevin K
Ok, so I laughed out loud in my office when I read this. As someone once in the biz, I know for sure it never would get better than that! Keep ‘em coming…
May 14th, 2008
Sara
Joe, as someone who was there as well and worked for the sport, I agree that it was one of the greatest moments in life. But to hear your perspective as an “outsider” is fantastic. I have always thought that it was so strange to be virtually exploding at the thought that NOTHING happened. For those that do know the rules of the sport, the fact that Rulon WASN’T thrown, WASN’T turned, WASN’T dropped on his head, DIDN’T get scored on - the fact that NOTHING happened was the greatest achievement of the Olympic Games. Then, in the moment you speak of, where Karelin’s (the Russian) grip broke, a simple slip of the hands - history was made. To hear your story brings it all back to life. I couldn’t be happier to hear your enjoyment and respect of the event. I wish everyone could experience the sport of wrestling like you did. I hope you remain a fan - there are more stories to come in Beijing and wrestling needs more folks like you!!
THANK YOU!
May 14th, 2008
skott
instead of the Reds you should write a book about Joe Strummer.
May 14th, 2008
Dan
WOW a great story
the summer after the olympics I was in Cody,Wyoming at the Rodeo. In between events I saw this huge man walk through the mud and dirt to the center of the arena where he proceeded to wrestle and throw around all of the rodeo clowns and roll around in the dirt– need I say the crowd went wild for their state’s hero! I sat there in sheer delight and could not think of a professional player in any sport who would be out there in the dirt having that much fun. What a day.
May 14th, 2008
Mike C
Joe - hope your saving your blogs to publish in book form. I would buy it - and I just bought the Soul of Baseball after reading this post. Amazon has it on sale. Cheap. Very cheap. Keep up the fantastic work.
May 14th, 2008
Larry
I don’t know why you write, Joe. (I am very glad that you do.) This, is why I read. Thanks.
May 14th, 2008
Minda
Once upon a time, a girl was trying to do a project for another website, and then she came back to this post and read it again, even though she had already read it a few times.
She didn’t really get that other project done, but she felt darn great about being a sports fan (and a Posnanski fan).
May 14th, 2008
Lynda
You made me cry, and beleive in decent people again. Thanks.
May 15th, 2008
Elton
Goose bumps, from the blog post and the article. This blog is so good.
May 15th, 2008
Kevin
Amazing article! Thanks!
May 15th, 2008
Bboys
Thanks Joe! Have been reading your blog for a long time. I have to say this is one of your best. I don’t LOL much from reading, but turned heads in my office as I wiped the laughter tears away.
Keep up the GREAT, no amazing, no fantastic, no unbelievable work!
May 15th, 2008
SB
To paraphrase The Natural, “You’ve got a gift Joe”
May 16th, 2008
Bill
After reading what is almost certainly the absolute best on-site story I have ever read in my life, I am reminded to ask for about the millionth time…do people in Kansas City realize what a rare gem they have in Poz?
As a retired sports writer, I can tell you this stuff doesn’t just happen. To write this well, to be laugh-out-loud funny, to capture the essence of a game or an athlete is a true gift. And Joe has it in spades.
Surely a gold medal awaits him somewhere.
May 17th, 2008
mike
you forgot about the part where he is indestructable. he was shot with an arrow in grade school, lost a toe in a snowmobiling accidnent, was hit by a car on his motorcycle, and was recently in a plane crash where he had to swim in 44 degree water for over an hour to reach shore.
May 29th, 2008
Jim Brown
I’ve been a wrestling fan for a long time and I don’t recall ever reading anything about the “world’s oldest and greatest sport” as beautifully written as this.
Thank you.
Jun 7th, 2008
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