I spoke too soon about American sportsmanship.
McKayla Maroney didn’t look lost, as the Atlanta Journal described the sullen American gymnast. Rather, she looked sour, after botching her dismount “during the artistic gymnastics women’s vault final at the 2012 Summer Olympics on Sunday.” Romanian Sandra Izbasa, whose solid, but less dazzling, performance earned her the gold medal, approached Maroney and put her arms around her. The American stiffened, and looked daggers at Izbasa. The onus was on Maroney to congratulate the winner. Later on, when the time came to respond publicly, Maroney, predictably, suctioned herself to the camera and mouthed the right platitudes. “Supreme finesse” is how Salon’s correspondent characterized Maroney’s belated, phony show of manners.
But then Salon writers frequently create their own reality.
By contrast, Sanya Richards-Ross set the gold standard not only for speed in the women’s 400 meters, on Sunday, but in her gracious demeanor. Richards-Ross is flamboyant but fabulous, reminiscent of Flo Jo.
For a spontaneous, un-choreographed show of sportsmanship, look to Grenada’s Kirani James, not to McKayla Maroney. James, who took gold in the the men’s 400m final, run a qualifying race against “Blade Runner” Oscar Pistorius of South Africa, made his way to Pistorius, hugged the plucky double amputee and exchanged bibs with him.
As for the white leotard that practically dug-into and displayed the contours of Maroney’s crotch: Why?! The other girls wore dark colors that concealed their privates. Cringe-making too are the hugs and rubs the scantily clad gymnasts get from their male coaches. I’m not a complete prude, but that’s plain inappropriate and disgusting.
For ho couture, nothing beat the beach bims of volleyball. Misty May-Treanor, who is as rough as a man, displays a tart tat on her lower back. Real cheap. Here and here are images of the tramp stamps in progress.
Did you too predict the three medalist in the men’s 100-meter dash? It was a no- brainer: Usain Bolt and Yohan Blake of Jamaica, and our Justin Gatlin, spectacular sprinters all.
UPDATE, VIA FACEBOOK: AMM: Why, thanks. The only thing I know is track and field. I used to sprint as a youth, but, in those days, in Israel, it was hard to come by the funds to … buy spikes (the running shoes worn back when…). After racing bare-feet and breaking a toe, I sort of gave up on competing. Ah, regrets. I should have stuck it out. I still run 12 miles a week, but oh-so-slowly. If you have a teen girl; get her into running. You’ll have fewer ho problems (for which, face it, girls are notorious).