Team leader Dean Brenner closing Olympic thoughts

by Dean Brenner on 26 Aug 2008 Closing Thoughts.

We're stuck in China... a few of us are anyway. Today is August 25, the Closing Ceremony was last night, and most of our team (and most olympians for that matter) left this morning for home. A few of us, however, were supposed to be on a 6:30pm flight to Washington Dulles that was delayed for about 12 hours. So... one more night in the Athlete Village before we get to go home.

This place changes quickly. Once the competition ends and the athletes leave the place takes on a whole different feel. What makes the Village and the Games cool is not the buildings or the services or the amenities. It's the energy of the place. It's the fact that the Olympics are happening that makes this place jump. And now, it's quiet.

Last night's Closing was beautifully done by our Chinese hosts. Once again, they outdid themselves and put on an artistic display that was really beyond words. And in many ways, they have set the bar incredibly high for future Games. The British have big shoes to fill, but if I were them, I wouldn't spend too much time trying to 'outdo' anything done here. Not sure that will be possible.

As I look back on these Games from the sailing team's perspective, I'll repeat a phrase I have used repeatedly over the last few days. It has become my way of describing my bottom line analysis of our team. On one hand, I am proud. We won a gold and silver, both medals produced by young first-time Olympians who may on several Olympic Teams in the future. And the rest of our team sailed hard, came here prepared, and did everything we could ask them to do. However, while I feel a great sense of pride, I am not satisfied. We can do better, and I am quite confident that every coach and athlete in our program will agree with that statement. We're proud of what we did accomplish, but we know there is much more we could have accomplished.

The Olympic Games is the pinnacle of our sport. Yeah, yeah... the big marquee events like the Cup and the Volvo like to claim to be the pinnacle. And sure, I see that argument. But I firmly believe that the Games are the pinncale for several reasons.

First, even in the classes where these is some development opportunities, it is still about the sailor first and foremost. No matter what you do to develop your equipment or sails, you still have to sail well because breakthrough development will give you only a few extra feet or a few extra seconds of advantage. This is as close to one design sailing as you will find, and therefore, to win you have to sail well.

But the second, and more powerful, reason why the Games is the pinnacle is that it is not exclusive to a certain part of the sailing community. I know many who have sailed in the Cup or the Volvo. But neither of those events are open to a broad spectrum of people. You either need to be able to afford to run your own multi-million dollar campaign, or you need to be a member of the rather exclusive community of pro sailors who continually get rides in those events.

At the Games, in each one of the 11 events, there are great sailors from a broad spectrum of countries, all of them racing in strict 'one design' format. The racing is as close as it gets, and we saw many examples this week of a great sailor with a world-class list of past ahievements, lose control of their regatta with one bad race or one bad leg. You blink, and you're in deep trouble.

Not everyone comes here truly capable of winning a medal. But they still come, and that's what makes this event even better. I watched many very talented sailors this week, some of whom did not have a legitimate chance to win, but who came and raced hard, and carried with them the hopes and dreams of friends and family back home.

The Games has what so many of these other events lack... a sense of national pride. Money is a big part of this game, but despite the need for sponsorship in our part of the sport, nationalism still makes this thing what it is. You see athletes walking around proudly in their team kit. (Well... not all of them. Some of the outfits were so ridiculous that you could read the body language when you pointed a camera at certain people. Please don't let anyone see me dressed like this...) But there are flags waving and your sail number has been replaced by nothing more than your country code. You are sailing for yourself, your friends and family, and your country. That's pretty special.

And finally, the Games gives us moments that you just won't find anywhere else. Many of you have almost certainly now heard about the Danish 49er team. Heading into the medal race, they were leading for the Gold. It was blowing 20+ knots, and they broke their mast before the start of the race. The race committee seemed determined to start the race, and in the minds of all of us, the Danes chances were gone. The gold was now available to someone else. They limped their boat back to the dock, and I happened to be standing there when they came in. They were quietly derigging their boat, subdued by the lost opportunity. Then there was a huge rush of yelling and cheering, and the Croatian 49er team came running down the dock, pushing their boat, already rigged with the sails up. They handed it to the Danes and told them to go race in their equipment. Last time I checked, if Ernesto or Larry had a gear failure, hell would freeze over before either of them would help the other. Incidentally, the Danes went on to win the gold in the Croatian boat. What a story...

The Games is a special event, and it is an experience unlike anything else I have ever seen or been a part of. And that's why it feels so odd when it is over. I'm sitting here in Beijing, in a dramtically less populated athlete village, typing next to Tim Wadlow who is stranded with me. And it's becoming more and more obvious to me why so many people who participate in a Games want so desperately to come back.

So at some point, we'll all be home, we'll take a rest, and then we'll continue to work on our 2012 plan. The Opening Ceremony to the 2012 Games begins in 1432 days. And yes... I'm counting.

Sail fast and cheer hard,

Dean Brenner
Team Leader
2008 US Olympic Sailing Team
posted by Dean M Brenner at 5:02 AM