Dispatches From Beijing
Check out Slate's complete coverage of the Beijing Games.
Somewhere in the lower stands of Beijing's National Aquatics Center, right around where Debbie Phelps and Kobe and LeBron were sitting, it was probably very obvious that something historic was happening here Sunday morning. But from Section 202 of the Water Cube, where I was lucky enough to win a seat in a ticket lottery last fall, it was sometimes hard to tell whether I was at the Olympics or a high-school swim meet.
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StumbleUponAs Phelps' race for eight approached, the PA announcers inside the building never mentioned what he was trying to accomplish. Blame the overwrought sense of decorum and fair play that permeates the Olympics—heaven forbid the International Olympic Committee acknowledge that the crowd might care more about Michael Phelps than a backstroke specialist from New Zealand. As a consequence, while viewers at home were reminded of Mark Spitz, we were watching inflatable Friendlies gyrate to the Hamster Dance. The result was a surprising lifelessness in the stands, even though a Phelps victory was not a foregone conclusion. There was also the strange fact that tickets to watch Michael Phelps swim were among the toughest to get in town—I heard stories of people paying nearly $1,000 for views no better than mine—and yet, as has been the case throughout the Games, more than a few seats went unfilled.
Within the Games, there's wide variance in the degree to which the crowd gets involved. Beach volleyball—with its cheerleaders and MCs—is at one extreme. (And it's not just that Phelps isn't Chinese: On Sunday night, the atmosphere at an Australia-Brazil beach volleyball quarterfinal match was more electric than the Water Cube's had been 11 hours earlier.) Even the organizers of an archery final I went to Friday did a better job creating a sense of drama.
Why was Sunday morning's swimming session so lacking in tension? It didn't help that the events started at 10 a.m. The biggest problem, though, was the bizarre pacing. First came the 50-meter women's freestyle, which was over in less than 25 seconds. That was followed by the men's 1,500-meter freestyle, an event so long that what sounded like elevator music played throughout the first dozen or so laps. Then there was a long wait, which included the medal ceremonies for the first two events and a rendition of "It's My Life" by Bon Jovi. Finally, the two medley relays began—with just a few minutes between the end of the women's race and the moment when Phelps finally stepped onto the deck.
On TV, all of the pre-race bluster helps build suspense. The elements that are usually so annoying about televised sports—the bombastic in-studio introduction, the amped-up scene-setting by the announcers, even the cut to commercial—do a pretty good job of creating anticipation for a three-and-a-half-minute race. In the Water Cube, by contrast, the closest thing to a dramatic build-up was a Microsoft Windows-style hourglass on the Jumbotron informing us that there were only 10 minutes to go before the session started. Except at the finish of the first three races, the crowd around us was oddly calm for most of the morning.
Of course, if the crowd wasn't up to the occasion, it was partly my fault—or, at least, the fault of people like me. Like most Americans (or Chinese, for that matter), I pay attention to swimming only every four years. And yet because of the vagaries of the Olympic ticketing system—if you're an average fan, you basically apply for dozens of tickets and take what you get in a lottery—my brother and I got very, very lucky. Sure, there were a few "super fans," including the families and friends of the athletes and other devotees who follow these sports during non-Olympic years. (The loudest cheers in the building probably came from other swimmers who packed the stands.) But the aquatics center wasn't filled with swimming junkies ready to cheer themselves hoarse; these were fans who would have been equally content to watch badminton.
When Phelps got into the pool, I finally felt as if I was witnessing history. I have Kosuke Kitajima to thank for that: The breaststroker, who claimed a sort of parallel dominance to Phelps at these Games, managed to claim the lead for Japan by the end of the medley's second leg. By the time Phelps began his swim, it became clear to us—even without the benefit of any commentary—that there was a decent chance the Americans wouldn't win.
Viewers at home saw the race from two vantage points: a bird's-eye view of the eight swimmers in the pool and a closer shot of the swimmers from above the water. Watching in person, you're mostly confined to that first view—albeit with a better angle than the one usually shown on NBC, and with a sense of distance that emphasizes just how unnaturally fast the swimmers move through water. After Phelps retook the lead and Jason Lezak tried to hold onto it, my mind was able to focus on just one thing: the slim margin between the swimmers at the front of the pack. As Australia's Eamon Sullivan swam just fast enough to suggest he might catch Lezak, I forgot even to look at Phelps cheering his team on.
When Lezak touched the wall and the American celebrations began, the crowd finally began to acknowledge what had happened. And, in its own weird way, so did the swimming federation responsible for running the event, giving Phelps a "certificate of recognition" that seemed more appropriate for a Little League awards dinner. A few minutes after the race was finished and the results had been certified, the PA announcer—in the same tone he used to admonish the crowd not to use flash photography—said that the "Beijing Olympics has witnessed the greatest Olympian in history—Michael Phelps of the USA." Everyone in the building already knew that, but it was still nice to hear someone say it out loud.
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Remarks from the Fray:
Damn! Must have taken forever to make that-- it hit every spot in Beijing that I've ever sought out, and then some. You'd think for a 7-minute song they could have aimed for less repetition, but this is, remember, a people who listen to and can sing all the songs of ABBA and The Carpenters without understanding a word, so it's perhaps understandable.
But I disagree about CCTV just a bit-- they've come very, very far in the last 15 years, and NBC has no excuse. Seriously, some of the commentary should be banned for posing health hazards to anyone listening. NBC coverage just stinks, whereas CCTV is trying to put out as much coverage as it can. Sometimes they have boring minutes of people standing and waiting, but is that worse than NBC's Games to Commercials ratio, which seems to be 1:15 or so?
--DuckworkerMike
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The west has to wake up and understand that the world is now moving faster than the west expects or accepts. It is easy to go on spreading woolly idealistic conceptual jargon about the right kind of democracy and freedom. At the end of the day, are all people happy in the west and USA? Barring Scandinavian, Nordic and Dutch Europe the rest of the region is a mixed bag of discontent and discord. In the US the average quality of life is so varying it intrigues sometimes how there can be such a boast about US being a developed nation.
Freedom to talk is not license to only condemn and criticize. Whatever be the form of government the progress China has made is undeniable and visible. An average Chinese like any other average national expresses dismay and concern over policies and this is universal. The poor in US with no participation in the machinery of governing will be as disappointed and annoyed as any Chinese. Only difference is your media makes a business of everything including good and bad news. I will challenge the media to give reports on events of human condition whether local or international without pedaling products and services on the airways. The media should accept the professional responsibility of providing true and accurate reports about events and not use the opportunity to make exposes and start beating the chest.
Yes, Beijing is growing and it has pains. Did not New York suffer this after the great depression? I think people lived more miserable lives then and we only have pictures of their past. So please learn to admire what is good after hard work and effort and don't go on playing the lone man blocking the tank card. It is history and much has changed in sociology since then.
--subrashankar
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A real criticism that could be made, but seems to be ignored, is this paradox between the "dynamic" booming development China and the "tendency to either modernize or tear down old structures". This is strange because part of the whole fangwen presentation of China is to show foreigners their great history -- their temples, and more temples. But along with this big emphasis on a grand history are these re-modeled, modern versions of their old buildings. How about writing about that inconsistency instead of just the "giant soulless block"...
--ArkhamEscapee
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I am old enough to remember how the media treated China in the seventies. There was a simplistic fascination bordering on romanticism towards China, even with Mao, and the Red Guards. But as China developed, and becomes more successful, we have become more critical. To me, the June 4 incident paled in comparison to the tens of millions victimized during the decade of the Cultural Revolution, but where was the western media at that time? Also, isn't it offensive to see Mao's picture still prominently displayed at the Tian AnMen Square? Much more so for the Chinese people. That's akin to seeing Hitler's picture in Berlin and Stalin's in Moscow. Yet we see American network anchors broadcast in front of this symbol of evil. I have not heard the western media discuss the reason why it's still there. perhaps removing the picture will take away part of the unconscious resentment that the western media feels about China.
--jdfjdf
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The whole 'meanness' of the media against China that the author mentions is really not about fairness. It's about competition. If they are going to compete with us for limited resources, we have to start by labeling them as some form of enemy. It's not about sharing resources, it's about making sure some upstart doesn't get a piece that should be rightfully yours.
--mallardsballadd
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We hold China up to the same scrutiny with which we view ourselves. This motivation is sufficiently legitimate and, what's more, can easily be proven to be symmetrical in the way that China's coverage of "the West" is not. Should anyone doubt this fact, he'd only have to peruse China's risible and deluded reports on "Human Rights Abuses" in the United States, wherein press-freedom infractions are cited *from American media sources*. The genocide of Native Americans, the failure of America's heath care system which the author points to---these subjects receive exhaustive analysis in American discourse. The West ought to report on China as intrepidly as the West reports on itself. And the ultimate passive-aggressive implementation of the term "bashing", which deflects legitimate criticism as merely a "hate crime" is preposterous. If our criticisms appear to "Chinese eyes" excessive, much of this is due to the excessive praise they grant themselves in their domestic media. Try to excuse us if we momentarily disrupt your self-worship.
--AristophanicBirdsForGovernment
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