Character

Anyone who has read this blog a modicum of times knows that its author is an indiscriminate sports fan. So it will not surprise you to learn that last night, when I tuned into the Red Sox-Baltimore game, I was struck by a particular advertisement. It was sponsored by NESN (the New England Sports Network and home to all televised Red Sox games, for those of you who are not HNES --or Hearty New England Stock) and it was promoting"Sox-tober," the annual autumnal rites of post-season baseball play, which, more often than not these days, feature our hometown Red Sox. Among stills of Ortiz, Pedroia and Beckett were interspersed pithy, sports-oriented, fan-incenting quotes, like " Sometimes character isn't built, it's revealed."

'Tis true. And nowhere have I seen a better depiction of that saying in action --not even on a freshly-mown, long-shadowed, post-season baseball diamond --than in the following blog submitted by Mike Hazle after his debut Olympic experience in Beijing. If you'd like a quick lesson in character, read on.

08.28.08: Beijing in the rear view mirror

With my Beijing experience now in the past by a few days, I have had a chance (including a 10 hour flight to Belgium) to reflect on everything that took place. I have had a chance to learn from a few mistakes, lick my wounds and take dead aim at the great city of London in exactly 1,456 days…and counting…

Beijing as a city was absolutely amazing; the people went above and beyond everyone's expectations. I kind of feel bad for the organizers of London 2012, they have one hell of an act to follow. The first thing my parents said as they returned home from Beijing was how shocked they were as to the rudeness of the American people in the airports…I have to remind myself that we Americans aren’t in fact being rude…it's just that those of us who have spent the last few weeks in Beijing have been spoiled by the “niceness epidemic”. There were actually times that the locals were so unbelievably nice and polite that it almost made me uncomfortable. For example, there would be times when a group of locals would be sitting at a table or huddled around a TV and as soon as you came in the room, they would all stand up and say hello. I don’t think there are 10 people who stand up in the States anymore when a lady enters the room (much less anyone else). I honestly can’t remember a single time when they weren’t smiling or saying “hello” or “is there anything at all I can help you with?”. Then there was the work ethic…It is no wonder why many of the world's largest companies look to China and Asia in general to produce many of their products. The Asians are the hardest working people I have ever seen in my life bar none, and they do it all while keeping a positive attitude. They may work for pennies per hour but they always seem to have a positive outlook on life. I remember thinking that if I opened a restaurant in the USA and had a full staff of Beijing locals, it would be one of the most successful restaurants in the USA within a matter of months (as long as I didn’t screw it up!) I realize that I may have not seen the way things really are or the way that Beijing was prior to the 29th Olympiad, but for what myself and almost all of those who visited Beijing saw…I am sold! Even as I was leaving the Olympic Village and airport, I was bombarded with gifts of every kind from the locals who pleaded and begged “please come back to Beijing… you are welcome back to China!” I for one, LOVE China and cant wait to go back. The last meet of the year for me will be in Daegue, Korea on Sept 25 and it will be interesting to compare the 2 cities. I can’t wait to see if the niceness epidemic has spread throughout Asia, or if its progression was halted at the Great Wall.

On to my performance in Beijing: For those who saw the qualifying rounds in the javelin, you saw the weather. For those of you who didn’t, the qualifying rounds were contested in a monsoon. I have never seen that much rain fall in that short of time. As much rain as there was and no matter how long my flight (group 2) was delayed…it didn’t matter. When I woke up at 4:30am the day of the comp and saw the rain, it actually fired me up because I knew most of the competitors wouldn’t be able to handle the conditions mentally and I actually felt like I had an advantage. I was the last thrower in the 2nd flight: thrower #48. Last thrower in normal conditions is a great place to be in because you get to watch the performances of everyone else and know exactly how far you have to throw in order to qualify…in normal conditions that is. But with as long as I had to wait…it didn’t matter, as wet as my javelins were…it didn’t matter. I was more ready physically and mentally than I have ever been in my life, maybe even too ready. I wasn’t even nervous…anxious yes, but nervous no. I have spent endless hours with my team analyzing my performance from every angle: physiologically, mentally, technically and emotionally. And the result of our analysis was…we wouldn’t have changed a thing. I have analyzed the film of my throws a few hundred times and it’s the best I have ever looked technically. My physical preparation was textbook, exactly where we hoped it would be. I was 100% healthy and 100% ready, mind body and soul. That’s why the results were so hard to comprehend. There were 90m throwers who couldn’t manage even 70m and 70m throwers who set new lifetime bests. In an event where the weather is so dependent on the outcome, one can only say “stuff happens”. All that matters is that you can prepare the best you can and leave it all on the track and then you must accept the results and the weather for what they are. Like the quote my coach said to me before I left for the stadium, “it is what it is”. The entire Olympic Games were filled with upsets and amazing stories. There were people who weren’t even supposed to make the team that ended up medaling and people who were locks to medal who were eliminated in the qualifying rounds…and the javelin was no exception. Here is one amazing story that you may not know the inside scoop on.

I had the opportunity to hang out with a friend/rival of mine who many of you know, Breaux Greer. Breaux was my roommate for several days while in Beijing and for those of you who don’t know his story, here is a quick rundown: Breaux is the greatest American javelin thrower in USA history and won a bronze medal at Worlds last year in Osaka and set a new American Record, which also happens to be the 9th farthest throw in the history of mankind. Breaux had his 11th major surgery of his career this past winter…yes 11th; most people would hang it up after 1. After breaking a bone in his throwing hand before the Olympic Trials, and not being able to take any training throws in several months, Breaux showed up at our Olympic Trials and finished 17th. A far cry from his 90m days of last year, Breaux dealt with an enormous media backlash for him doing some of the things he decided to do throughout the year. The javelin is a very "what have you done lately" event and Breaux received the full media fury. Still Breaux was nominated to the Olympic Team and came to Beijing. Why? I asked myself the question several times…the answer which we may never truly know, is not ours to worry about and we probably wouldn’t be able to comprehend. What I saw Breaux go through in Beijing was nothing short of amazing. He was told by several doctors not to even show up at our trials much less the Olympic Games. I saw a guy shoot up with pain killers just to take standing throws on the grass…I saw a guy who had everyone in the world telling him no and yet he said yes. Even the greatest javelin coach in the world (aside from mine) Kari Ihalinen of Finland (Breaux’s coach last year) told Breaux to go home that he would risk career-ending injury if he attempted to throw again. But those of you who know Breaux, know that he is capable of throwing 80m when he is not even remotely healthy. So, when I heard Breaux tell my why, it made everything crystal clear, not only about why he chose to come to Beijing, but why he does everything he does in life. Breaux looked me in the eye and said, “I'm going to give it one shot...one throw...one throw with all that I have, because I don’t want to go back home and watch the Olympics and wonder…what if?” In an event where it only takes 1 throw…this made perfect sense to me. So, kudos to Breaux for his larger than life attempt at representing himself and his country on the world’s largest stage. After my last throw in Beijing, Breaux came up to me and said, “remember this feeling and use it.” Breaux has gone through this 2 times and had the agony of being 1cm short of making the Olympic Team in 1996. He finished last in Sydney and last in Athens after posting the farthest throw of the Games in qualifying. He also said “you will grow more from this than anything else you do in life.” And I truly believe that I have grown more as a person and an athlete more in the last week than I have all of my life. I have to admit that I didn’t know what to expect from Breaux when I got to Beijing, but it was a great experience that I may never truly know the value of. All I know is, if I am stuck in a foxhole in a war, I want Breaux watching my back.

So now what? I am now in Belgium, post-Beijing and am now officially an Olympian having competed in the Games. So where does this leave me? As strange as this may sound, I believe that the disappointment of Beijing was in fact the best thing that could have happened to me. If I had qualified for the final or even medaled, I would have walked away from Beijing with a sense of satisfaction, which is extremely dangerous as an athlete. I swore to myself that I will never feel the way that I felt as I left the runway in Beijing and that very moment which will be etched in my mind forever set the stage for the next four years. I am more determined and driven now that I have ever been in my life, which I honestly didn’t think was possible. But knowing what I know now, I believe that the next 4 years will hold many far throws that will culminate in another amazing Olympic experience in London. The result in London will be irrelevant, it cold be a gold medal or a last place in qualifying, but the journey along the way will be something that I hope I can someday explain in words. The life lessons that I will learn over the next 4 years will be worth more than any monetary amount that a 9-5 job may offer and the reward at the end of the journey will be indeed priceless. It looks as if Breaux will be moving to San Diego this fall to join our training group. Put 2 of the worlds best throwers together to push each other physically and emotionally, couple that with the worlds best coaching, nutrition and sports science…one can only guess the end product in 4 years…London awaits in less than 1,456 days…
Never underestimate the power of ambition.

'Til next time,
Mike++