Though the Olympics themselves have been used for political propaganda, there’s no denying the lack of bloodshed is definitely better for humanity as a whole. In 1936, Adolph Hitler wanted to demonstrate Aryan supremacy by staging the greatest Olympiad the world had ever known. The reason sprinter Jessie Owens of the United States won four Olympic gold medals is that the United States Olympic Committee felt that it would have been an embarrassment for Owens’ Jewish teammates to outrun their German counterparts in front of their host dictator. Owens was coerced into running a fourth event, and embarrassing the fuhrer all the same.
Despite all of his manipulating of public opinion–including hiring some of the best film directors and cinematographers of the time to produce the documentary Olympia – Hitler did not cow the free world into accepting his superiority. His patience at an end, he leapt headlong into World War II.
Throughout history, sending representatives into battle in earlier forms of sport served two purposes. One, they seemingly made the point of whose forces were stronger without having to stage full-scale fighting. Remember the story of David? Nobody dared fight Goliath one-on-one, until this rather daring young adolescent slung a stone at him and smote him down. The modern version was the original version of the film Rollerball in the early 1970’s, featuring James Caan. That technologically advanced derivative of roller derby was used by multinational corporations as a substitute for actual battle. An updated version of the movie was released last year, and a similar science fiction film featuring Dean Cain and Wesley Snipes was released a few years ago.
A more insidious use for sport (or the unsophisticated varieties of it) was discovered early in Roman times. The term "bread and circuses" refers to the palliatives Caesars used to keep the masses from revolting. When they were hungry, rulers gave away bread to keep their hunger from turning into anger. When they fumed at their lot in life, emperors staged battles in Coliseums, free to the public. Gladiators fought one another to the death, or Christians were fed to the lions. The use of cesti (spiked leather or meal gloves often smeared with poison) even contributed to the birth of boxing.
The Coliseum in Rome was even flooded on occasion to accommodate full-scale battles between two ships brought in for the occasion. Spilled blood was anesthetic for the reigning government.
Psychologically, sport has also become a sedative for millions of men around the world. The modern phenomenon of the "golf widow," "football widow" or, in this country the "basketball widow" is a male response to stress. Men sometimes need a vicarious outlet through which to deal with their frustrations at their fate, their inability to change situations, and a means to escape. This is why they often sit in front of the television set, eyes glazed and unflinching, watching their adopted heroes perform feats they wish they could do. Some people blame sports on television for the high divorce rate in many modern socielies. Bread and circuses.
Education and spirituality keep people from crossing battle lines and taking matters into their own hands. It is much safer to lace up a pair of sneakers and risk minor injury to vent, than to take arms against a sea of troubles in the hopes of ending them by force.
Unfortunately, the vicarious experience extends to our children. Many parents wish their children would be better athletes than they were, or perhaps even play the way they did or would have wanted to. Sports parents are a modern mutation, who are alternately amused at how emotionally involved they are in their children’s sports activities, and intensely arguing for a better deal for their kids from referees, umpires, linesmen and time-keepers.
In my case, crossing the battle line has often meant searching for new ways to release all the "what ifs" in my life. Taking up old sports or learning new ones has brought me face to face with issues that were internal, not external. I was always a real hothead, and now I know why. Through playing competitively, and even casually, I dealt with my feelings of inadequacy, incompetence and old age. But it wasn’t easy. On many occasions, it was downright painful. Sports is a microcosm of life, or so they say. But it hurts just the same, albeit in a safer environment.
At the end of the day, what does war accomplish? All it does is mess up the planet, create wounds that never heal, and push the agenda of big bullies. There is always another way, don’t you agree?
Peace.