My American Dream

Seventy-seven men waddled gracefully down the track, their hips gyrated to and fro; in an instant I was hooked. Like most human beings whose minds have ascended beyond hunting and gathering, I have a dream that reaches far past what I can see. I dream of the Olympics, multicolored rings, displays of aggressive flag bearing patriotism, and of course, the fabled medals. I dream of being an Olympic race walker. My fascination with the Olympics, and it’s most highly prized event, began two years ago, when Brazil was allowed to light the torch in her city of Rio de Janeiro. Whilst casually perusing my television set I absentmindedly turned to the games, only to see my destiny before me, the men’s 20 kilometer race walk. Up until that point I had been like the majority of my fellow Americans, vigorously and energetically cheering on my nations handball or canoe team before tuning them out for the next four years. But with a sport that I could seemingly do with little to no effort, I began dreaming of gold. Like George Sheldon (look him up) I dived headfirst into the pools of the Olympics, researching their history top to bottom, from every last minute miracle, to every heart breaking blunder. But as I peeled away

We forget that all of those lights, all of those medals, all of that glory, they all have a price. Those prices are increasing leaving cities in debt after excessive displays of virtue, and people displaced because they are considered “eye sores”. The cost of the Olympics extends beyond mere personal sacrifices from the athletes that participate in them, and reaches into the cities and countries that host them. The economic and social drawbacks that the Olympics carry with them, far outweigh any potential benefit they might have. So when the question is asked, are the Olympics worth it, the answer is simple-