Does He Want Fries With That?

What does one athlete's 10,000-calorie diet have to do with the US Presidential election? Absolutely nothing, and for that I am deeply thankful.

For the past week Michael-mania has swept like wildfire across the American media landscape. The airwaves are saturated with descriptions of Michael Phelps, his exploits in the Olympic swimming pool, and his meals. I can now tell you how many fried-egg sandwiches he eats for breakfast (three), how many sugar-coated slices of French toast follow the sandwiches (also three) and how many ham-and-cheese sandwiches he eats for lunch (only two; he is human after all). This is neither entertaining nor edifying.

But it is a welcome relief from non-stop discussion of the American presidential election. Or more precisely, it is a welcome relief from discussion of the election that is not about the candidates. A few days ago I heard a venomous tirade against Mrs. Obama that left me bewildered. I cannot understand why it matters whether she is a likeable person. Or why her skill in managing the media is relevant. Probably the only people who really care how well Mrs. Candidate deals with the media are the media themselves. But it is all to easy for a self-important radio show host to act as if the President's economic policy is less important than his family's ability to create snappy soundbites for lifestyle and feature reporters.

So I consider it very fortunate that the media coverage of Phelps's quest for 8 gold medals has outshouted the trash that often passes for political commentary.

I'm also thankful for Nastia Liukin. I grew up believing the Olympics serve one primary purpose. That purpose is to reveal every four years a supremely elegant Eastern European gymnast who makes everyone gasp in amazement. And while Nastia's passport is American, everyone knows that in 1988 her father won an Olympic gold medal with the Soviet Union's mens' gymnastics team. Now Valery Liukin and his wife Anna (also a former gymnast who represented the Soviet Union) are proudly celebrating Nastia's stunning performances in Beijing. I was about to declare that she crushed her competition on her way to the women's all-round gold. But it would be more accurate to say that she delicately ground them under her twinkle toes. I wish I could have looked forward to seeing her again at the next Olympics in four years, but that's too much to wish for. After all, by then she will be 22 years old, a veteran among her teenage competitors.

But maybe it is not too much to hope for. Oksana Chusovitina would certainly think so. After all she is 33 years old. Sixteen years ago she, like Valery, won an Olympic gold medal while representing the Soviet Union. Since then she has had a child, become a German citizen and is now twice as old as most of her competitors. And yet she placed a respectable 9th in the all-round championship last night, and is still in the hunt for a gold medal next week. I know I'll be rooting for her to be one of the most improbable Olympic champions ever.

But even she is not in the same class as Hiroshi Hoketsu. This week he rode in the Olympic equestrian event for the second time in his life. The first time was in 1964. Yes, that was 44 years ago. He is one of perhaps fourteen people in the world who have had a career longer than Mick Jagger, and he's managed it without acquiring Jaggeresque furrows all around his face. Alas, he did not make it to the podium. But I think his was one of the rare cases where the phrase "winning is not everything" is more than just a cliche.

I'm reveling in my immersion in familiar sports again, and in the sheer variety of the human drama playing out in Beijing's Olympic venues. I have another week or so to enjoy it. After that, it's back to talk-show hell!