In which I have a bit of a sportsgasm

So it sucks being away from my husband. He amuses me and generally makes for good company. But he couldn't make this trip, which was fair and reasonable, so I'm alone in the Tacoma La Quinta, watching the Ducks decimate Arizona. I actually feel bad for Rich Rodriguez and the Wildcats; Oregon is just destroying their defense and has stopped them dead every time they get in the red zone. So far that's been six times.

Today I have also watched bits of the Clemson-HalfAssU game (which did not go well for me in my betting pool), a bit of the Michigan-Notre Dame game (which did), part of the LSU-Auburn game (not in the pool this week), and about half an inning of the Mariners-Texas game. I also keep having urges to watch Monday night football, since the Packers play the Seachickens in Seattle. Since I don't normally have any interest in the NFL, I'm definitely having a sportsgasm.

Sadly, I missed--and incorrectly picked--the UCLA-Oregon State game. Oregon State has now beaten two ranked teams, is 2-0, and will probably be in the top 25 this week (they got votes last week). I'm fairly certain Mike Riley has secured his job for another year, and beating both Wisconsin and the Bruins makes OSU look good. 

Sportsgasm complete, it was really good to see people today. I got to spend a few hours with Carter, Lisanna, their little one, and Kellie. We also saw Kristan for a bit, and I'll see her again tomorrow, along with a great many other people. So it's good. A bit lonely this evening, but good.

And I have my Oregon Ducks, who just won 49-0.

Bloody Mincemeat

That's what my arm looks like. Amazingly, it's worse than fencing. Larger, at least. I've actually taken to wearing long-sleeved shirts so as to hide the bruising (not that I really go out) because I doubt anyone would believe that I haven't been beaten. Archery is not a believable explanation, unless you've experienced it.

Funny enough, I think if someone really had tried to beat the crap out of me, that level of bruising would have resulted in broken bones. But thankfully, bowstring slaps, while incredibly painful at the time, don't break bones. They can, however, raise very large welts. Tony had welts. I didn't, but that's probably because I had two shirts between me and the string, and Tony got hit on bare skin. The bracers are a bit puny. Next week, in addition to two shirts, I'm going the epée route: ace bandage up the arm.

A discovery made by one of the archers doing the coaching is that my elbow naturally hyper-extends. Yay. That might also explain my shocking lack of point control in fencing, but I think that's largely explained my by sucking. In archery, however, it is problematic. Proper stance removes much of it (which finally seemed to improve at the end), and with the tension of the bow and string, I'm able to rotate my elbow without rotating my wrist or shoulder--but I have to have the tension to do that, so I can't practice. Adam can do it without the tension but he also has a wonky elbow--he might have broken it (just a chip) a few years ago, but since he never went to the doctor for it, no one knows for sure.

We had a blast, though. Lots of fun, really nice guys (even if one of them is from Boston and a fan of the Red Sox...sigh), and easy to pick up but hard to master. Tony was really good and clustering arrows in the red and sometimes gold (center) parts of the target, Mark did quite well until he got a bow that wasn't broken (the glue holding the sight on was knackered), and Adam wasn't bad, though he was frustrated. I spend a lot of time pulling arrows out of the ground behind the target, but that was in part because I kept whacking myself with the bowstring, which--fairly obviously--sends the arrow off-target. I was getting conflicting coaching (the guys came around and corrected rather willy-nilly), which was frustrating, but in the end I started to figure some stuff out, which was good since I don't want to destroy my arm again next week or the week after.

Not a good look. The photo doesn't do them justice, either.

Living in the host country has its perks

If you know me--and let's face it, if you don't, I'm a little confused as to why you're here, but hey, whatever--you know that I live in England. You also know that I don't exactly love living here. Well, that's changed, at least for the duration of the Olympics (never mind the weather. The athletes probably won't drown. Probably.).

You also may or may not know about the weird institution in the UK known as the TV Licensing Agency. If you don't know about this archaic beast, so far as I can tell it's their job to send out letters demanding money that range from vaguely annoying to definite harassment to flat-out threatening. If you pay them, they stop for a year or so. The TV license fee is charged to households/private rooms,* and the revenue is used to fund the BBC, keeping it advert free.** The Boy and I don't pay a TV license, not because we're cheap or morally opposed to it or anything, but because we don't watch TV as it broadcasts.*** I finally got them to stop sending us letters by telling them we didn't need one. Been over a year and no one has come out to confirm this (surprise surprise) and no more letters. Go me.

But I digress. Since we moved and changed ISPs to non-sucky Virgin, our connection has improved immensely, although streaming is still dodgy, so I doubt live-streaming is possible. But that's ok. Because the BBC claims to be broadcasting the entirety of the Olympics. As in every event in every sport and every match, not just the semi/quarter/finals. They've put something like 20 additional stations on for the duration of the Olympics, and are broadcasting 15 hours a day. And though The Boy and I can't watch it here, we did download the BBC iPlayer Wii app. This means about 24 hours after broadcast we can watch events and coverage. Granted it's not live, but I don't care if I know who wins prior to seeing the event (which I will unless I stay completely off the internet). And it's also probably be broadcast before NBC decides to show it in the US--if they show it at all. If you've been following the Twitter hashtag #NBCfail (which is absolutely hilarious, by the way) you'll know that NBC is outdated and behind the times. They don't care about what their viewers want, and to make it even better, an exec in charge of their digital media posted this (she's since taken it down)

Classy. Real classy, and a great way to piss off your viewers even more. It's also interesting to note that someone who is supposed to be social media savvy marked it "+1" which is not a Twitter thing, but rather a Google+ approval. Not at all savvy.

The whole point of this post is simple. I don't love living in the UK most of the time, but at least we get our Olympics coverage properly. Yes, a lot of people think it's because we're the host country, but we also think that the success that the coverage is having will encourage the BBC to do this for all the future Olympics. I certainly hope so.

And for those people struggling in the US to get live coverage, or at least complete coverage, there are ways to access the BBC online (the proper BBC, not BBC America or BBC International) to get your fix, either live or at least complete events. Or events that NBC doesn't want to broadcast. If you wish to take that route, there are plenty of directions telling you how online (it's in a legal gray area, but not explicitly illegal), or you can drop me a message and I can try to help you. In the meantime, enjoy your shitty NBC coverage while I watch the (mostly ok****) BBC coverage, which includes commentators like John McEnroe, Michael Johnson, and Dame Kelly Holmes. You know, real athletes.

*For example, each dorm room would have to pay for a license because the individual rooms are separately keyed, but a house only needs one license to cover all the TVs in it.

**By advert free I mean free of advertising for car insurance and such. There's plenty of advertising for other BBC shows and channels. And I do mean plenty.

***Any live signal, regardless of how you watch it--live internet feed, mobile phone, cable/satellite/freeview box--makes you subject to needing a license. This isn't a problem for us because our phones suck, as does our internet connection. Besides, I don't know where to find live streams of most things on the web, for I've never bothered to refine that part of my web ninja-fu.

****During the early Beach Volleyball games on Saturday, the camera was showing player signs to the viewers. This would have been fine and interesting, except there are giant viewscreens in the Horseguards arena, so in effect the opposing team could "steal signs." Oops. At least they fixed that really fast.

RIP: Sports Edition

Though this is very belated, we lost two greats from the world of sports recently.  First, Paul the Octopus, best known for accurately "predicting" World Cup match winners, died on October 26th, 2010.  He was about two and a half years old.  Thankfully, he was not eaten by anyone.

Second, and much more unexpectedly, Dave Niehaus, the Voice of the Mariners, died from a heart attack  on November 10th, 2010.  He was 75, and had been with the Seattle Mariners since their inception in 1977.  The Seattle PI wrote this about him.  He will be truly missed, as a Mariner, and a fan of baseball.

Life, Frustrated

So I was, impressively enough, not even slightly hungover on Sunday, after my boozefest of 8+ drinks on Saturday.  As Adam was quick to point out, those drinks were spread out over about 8 hours--we are nothing if not thorough about our drinking--but even so, quite impressive, at least to my mind.  Sadly, it was shockingly expensive for the two of us to down 16 or 18 (maybe 17) drinks over the course of the evening, and I shudder to think what the caloric count was.  I will say that I was slightly weak on Sunday, but that was due to a distinct lack of water.  I must have drank some before I went to bed, but when I woke up about 3:30am, I chugged a litre's worth then, and again about 5:30.  And 7:00.  And so on.  Well, I suppose it wasn't a full litre each time, but at least half of one.  All I know is I filled the nalgene bottle up every time, though it wasn't always empty.

Tea went well.  The salmon I made for Tony went over a treat (not for Pam; she had chicken), and Adam and I both like the recipe, so yay.  If you care, salmon fillet with a bit of lemon juice, loads of brown sugar, and lots of dill (or tarragon, but we used dill).  Bake until done.  Do not overcook your fish.  You can also do it on the grill--extra tasty--but don't be so crazy as to think you can put it straight on the grill.  Sugar + Fire = Very Large, Very Smelly Fire - Fish.  Put foil down first, or a (soaked) cedar plank or something.  The carrots also went over a treat.  Pam, besides disliking fish, also dislikes cooked carrots, but she tried 2 out of politeness.  Or maybe because I told her we tossed them in butter and brown sugar.  Brown sugar makes everything better.

In the frustration realm, I'm dealing with the US side having all their goals written off due to shitty reffing, England probably advancing (thank His Noodly Appendage that I'm not working tomorrow), and the world's worst package delivery company outside of "that bloke over there."  I'm slightly less frustrated by that one now, since part of Adam's birthday present just arrived, but the Father's Day present Adam ordered for Tony is scheduled for redelivery--AGAIN--tomorrow.  They don't ring the flat, they don't leave delivery attempt slips, and they lie.  Tracking told me that yesterday, when there was always someone in the flat, they attempted delivery at 8:56pm, but were back in the Leed's depot by 9:01pm.  We do not live 5 minutes from Leeds.  Also, they're supposed to attempt deliveries between 7am and 7pm, so that's weird as well.  Sheesh.  Oh well, at least Adam's present is here.  We'll deal with Tony's again if it's not delivered tomorrow (again, someone should be here the whole day).  Sometimes I really hate how Titanic is set up.  We're supposedly "secure," but the doors never shut properly to activate the maglock, we have no stairs that we can use to get up to our flats (they're all fire stairs, so they're locked from inside the stairwells), which would be "secure" except that when the power goes out, the lifts shut down, meaning you can't get home unless someone propped open the stairwell doors (hi, I do).  Plus, we don't have a concierge desk like we were promised, so we can't get packages, because delivery people can't get in, and even if they do, they have no place to leave the packages.  Argh!

But I'm buying more beer making supplies tomorrow.  Yay!  Third batch should--if the heat breaks and then stays cooler for a week or two--go in the fermenter in a week and a half.  Go beer!

EDIT:  What the hell?!  Somehow, by virtue of a miracle, both England and the US are through to the next round.  Though I'm still pissed about the shitty reffing the US has faced.  Two perfectly valid goals, wiped off because--as I'm starting to think--the refs don't want the US through.  I don't see that being the case, but it's certainly starting to get questionable.

The England Bucket List, plus an "I Hate Football Fans" Rant

This is not about how I hope the English National team kicks the bucket (though I do).  And while I know some of you are rabid football/soccer fans--and I guess that's ok--I really really really hate football fans in this country (I don't hate football, I just find it incredibly dull and mind-numbing to watch).  I also hate people who aren't football fans, but display obscene amounts of inappropriate "patriotism" every four years because of the World Cup (it's not like it's the Olympics).  You cannot safely drive a car when it is completely obscured by flags, stickers, magnets, window decals, and random "England" crap. Nor can you safely buy baked goods or sandwiches in my shop without being visually assualted by a selection of flags and other patriotic/footbally crap that they put up today (possibly on orders of the company owner, not sure).  Plus, my coworkers bought big poofy "England" hats, and are expecting me to wear one as well.  I will lose my job before I go down that road.  Don't tell me who to cheer for.  Besides, I'm not paying for that tat (or wearing it for free).

Also, if you really need a St. George's flag* with the word "England" emblazoned upon it, I question your knowledge of history, country, and vexillology (look it up).

*To my American readers who may not know: the Union Jack is the flag of the United Kingdom, but each of the individual countries (ie., Wales, Scotland, England, and Northern Ireland) have their own flags as well.  Well, not exactly Northern Ireland; that's complicated (go figure).  Also, the Union Jack combines the St. George's Cross, the St. Andrew's Cross (no, not the BDSM one...wow, the things I learn when I write blog posts), and the St. Patrick's Cross.  I assume the Welsh are pissy about being left out.  Oh, my research indicates they are, and want the Welsh dragon added to the middle of the flag.  I must say, in this case I wholeheartedly agree with the Welsh.  Every flag looks better with a dragon on it.

Right.  Onto the actual point of this post.  I live in England.  Hello!  We'll probably live here about 2 more years, or until I get my UK citizenship sorted, and then a job sorted out back in the US (Adam will not need to worry about this step, due to Green Card rules).  But in the meantime, I live here.  And because "here" is much closer to Europe proper, and therefore cheaper in terms of travelling to Europe proper, I'm making a list of places I want to see before we leave.  I'm also making a list of places I want to see on this little island.  Since I, you know, live here, maybe I should, you know, see more of it.

There are lots of places I want to go, both in and out of England.  Iceland, Venice (before it's flooded away permanently), Greece, and Copenhagen/Denmark for more than 24 hours.  Stonehenge, Edinburgh and Glasgow, and Penzance probably top my UK list (excluding Nottingham to replace the Olde Trip glass that I stole, had Adam keep safe for 3 years, then promptly broke when I started packing his stuff so we could move out of his parents' house).

But where would you like to go?  If you were in my shoes, what would you like to see?  What are your top 3 priorities, and why?  I'm genuinely curious, and looking for places that I've not thought of.  Is it Turkey, because your in-laws now live there?  (Don't think I haven't thought about knocking on Greg and Nancy's door and saying "hi!  You really don't know/remember me, but...")  Is it Amsterdam because you really want to get stoned (better weed in the Pacific Northwest)?  Some little hill-town in Italy or in Spain?  Or is it slightly further out, like Morroco or Egypt (which is very high on my list, but probably will not happen at this time)?

Please, post a comment telling me where you would go and why.  Also, please let me know if you've been there before.  And if you don't want to post a comment--or can't for some reason--send me an email letting me know where yo'd go.  My only requests are that it be a reasonable travelling distance from the UK, or at least clearly closer to the UK than to the US (Iceland and Egypt fall into these categories, as do Northern Africa, Western Asia, and the Middle East).

Goodbye, Jr.

For anyone who follows baseball, Ken Griffey, Jr. has retired.  'Tis a sad, sad day in baseball, but I hope (and rather doubt) that this will be the last we hear of or from the Kid.  Even so, the Seattle Mariners' dugout must be a quiet place, without Jr. to poke people, play pranks, and generally bring the team together.

Also, RIPs must go out to Dennis Hopper, Gary Coleman, and the truly magnificent Lena Horne.  For better or for worse, all are irreplaceable.

A Good Day to be an Oregonian

The University of Oregon Ducks are the Pac-10 Champions, finishing their season with a 10-2 record, having lost the first game of the season to the currently undefeated Boise State, beating the seeming juggernaut of the USC Trojans, and falling only once in conference play, to the Stanford Cardinals. With tonight's Civil War win over the Oregon State Beavers, the Ducks finish with only 1 conference loss, the fewest of any team in the Pac-1o, sending them to the Rose Bowl. The Beavers finish with 3 conference losses, which will hopefully send them to the Holiday Bowl; sadly, this is only a lock if they are the outright second-place team; they are tied with Stanford, who is also done with their season, but can also be tied with some combination of USC, Cal, and Arizona (USC and Arizona still have to play each other, and Cal still plays Washington). In the case of a tie (or ties), the decision is not made by looking at tiebreakers, but instead by debate and vote of the Holiday Bowl Committee. Hopefully, they will make the correct choice, and send the Beavers to San Diego in a few weeks.

Either way, it's a good day to be an Oregonian. Tonight's game has proven that Oregon has two stellar teams, in the Pac-10 and in the NCAA.

Tis the Season...of College Football and Nike

While I rather imagine that most of my readers won't give a quack about this, the University of Oregon (no, not my alma mater, but my much beloved hometown uni) has unveiled its new round of uniforms.

For those who don't know, Phil Knight is the (co-)founder of Nike, Inc. Nike is headquartered in...Beaverton, Oregon, I think. One of the Portland suburbs, anyway. It was effectively founded at the University of Oregon, where Phil Knight was running track for a man by the name of Bill Bowerman, arguably one of the greatest track and field coaches ever. He also "invented" jogging.

Anyway, Phil Knight feels that he owes a lot to his alma maters, the UO and Stanford University. So he gives them money. A lot of money. The UO has received something in the realm of $360 million (at least). The library is named for his mother, the law school for his father, and he has an athletic building named for him. Additionally, his company has created uniforms for the UO. Not just any uniforms...generally the most talked about uniforms in college football (seriously). Which is really what this article is about. The new uniforms have been unveiled, and you can read about them, past uniforms, and see a picture of just some of the many, many permuations (the last rollout of uniforms had 384 different combinations possible).

The article is here, and while you probably don't care, I always get a kick out of it.

Wheeeee!

Or rather, Wii!

At 9:15 this morning our intercom system woke us up, because the nice package delivery man had a package for us. Specifically, the Nintendo Wii we ordered Tuesday night (a little before midnight). Yes, for that fast service we paid the whopping shipping fee of £1.69.
My shoulders hurt already. And the baseball game cheats. I was doing really well, and then it got pissy, and so I lost. And to add insult to injury, it does a "mercy" thing, where once it runs 5 points up on you the game ends.
My fielders sucked. If I could have controlled them, I think I would have done better. Retards just stand there until the ball hits the ground. And I'm not sure how to control the pitching.
But dammit, by the time Adam gets home from work, I will have mastered Wii Sports (came with the console).
And tomorrow, when I go meet Claudia in town so she doesn't have to struggle to find her way to our place, I will buy us at least one more game, and another controller.
Oh, and I KO'd a guy in boxing in less than 2 minutes.
I know that everyone else on the planet practically has a Wii already, but I'm really excited. It truly is like nothing else, gaming-wise.
Now all they need is Wii Fencing...

Umm....what?

As of just this moment, the Seattle Mariners, my beloved boys in blue, are leading the AL West, and have the second best record in the American League.

What? How's that again?

Figures. I move 6000 miles away and they maybe pull it together (yes, I know it's a bit early to tell). Perhaps I will go up to Seattle and see a game or two this summer after I get back. Adam's never been to a baseball game. Perhaps he'll be drug along. I'll have to put up with him laughing at the fat men running, but tis a small price to pay to be at the ballpark.

Now to check on the NL, and hope the Cubbies are doing better than the M's. :)

I'm a sucker for stories like these

The full story is here, but just in case it goes away at some point, I'll also paste it in here (it's pretty long, so beware). And bear in mind that I cry every time I see the pilot episodevof Sports Night. Yeah, I'm lame.

Somalia’s runners provide inspiration
By Charles Robinson, Yahoo! Sports
BEIJING

Samia Yusuf Omar headed back to Somalia Sunday, returning to the small two-room house in Mogadishu shared by seven family members. Her mother lives there, selling fruits and vegetables. Her father is buried there, the victimvof a wayward artillery shell that hit their home and also killed Samia’s aunt and uncle.

This is the Olympic story we never heard.

It’s about a girl whose Beijing moment lasted a mere 32 seconds – the slowest 200-meter dash time out of the 46 women who competed in the event. Thirty-two seconds that almost nobody saw but that she carries home with her, swelled with joy and wonderment. Back to a decades-long civil war that has flattened much of her city. Back to an Olympic program with few Olympians and no facilities. Back to meals of flat bread, wheat porridge and tap water.

“I have my pride,” she said through a translator before leaving China. “This is the highest thing any athlete can hope for. It has been a very happy experience for me. I am proud to bring the Somali flag to fly with all of these countries, and to stand with the best athletes in the world.”

There are many life stories that collide in each Olympics – many intriguing tales of glory and tragedy. Beijing delivered the electricity of Usain Bolt and the determination of Michael Phelps. It left hearts heavy with the disappointment of Liu Xiang and the heartachevof Hugh McCutcheon.

But it also gave us Samia Yusuf Omar – one small girl from one chaotic country – and a story that might have gone unnoticed if it hadn’t been for a roaring half-empty stadium.

***

It was Aug. 19, and the tiny girl had crossed over seven lanes to find her starting block in her 200-meter heat. She walked past Jamaica’s Veronica Campbell-Brown – the eventual gold medalist in the event. Samia had read about Campbell-Brown in track and field magazines and once watched her in wonderment on television. As a cameraman panned down the starting blocks, it settled on lane No. 2, on a 17-year old girl with the framevof a Kenyan distance runner. Samia’s biography in the Olympic media system contained almost no information, other than her 5-foot-4, 119-pound frame. There was no mention of her personal best times and nothing on previous track meets. Somalia, it was later explained, has a hard time organizing the records of its athletes.

She looked so odd and out of place among her competitors, with her white headband and a baggy, untucked T-shirt. The legs on her wiry framevwere thin and spindly, and her arms poked out of her sleeves like the twigsvof a sapling. She tugged at the bottom of her shirt and shot an occasional nervous glance at the other runners in her heat. Each had muscles bulging from beneath their skin-tight track suits. Many outweighed Samia by nearly 40 pounds.

After introductions, she knelt into her starting block.

***

The country of Somalia sent two athletes to the Beijing Games – Samia and distance runner Abdi Said Ibrahim, who competed in the men’s 5,000-meter event. Like Samia, Abdi finished last in his event, overmatched by competitors who were groomed for their Olympic moment. Somalia has only loose-knit programs supporting its Olympians, few coaches, and few facilities. With a civil war tearing the city apart since the Somali government’s collapse in 1991, Mogadishu Stadium has become one of the bloodiest pieces of real estate in the city – housing U.N. forces in the early 1990s and now a military compound for insurgents.

That has left the country’s track athletes to train in Coni Stadium, an artillery-pocked structure built in 1958 which has no track, endless divots, and has been overtaken by weeds and plants.

“Sports are not a priority for Somalia,” said Duran Farah, vice president of the Somali Olympic Committee. “There is no money for facilities or training. The war, the security, the difficulties with food and everything – there are just many other internal difficulties to deal with.”

That leaves athletes such as Samia and 18-year old Abdi without the normal comforts and structure enjoyed by almost every other athlete in the Olympic Games. They don’t receive consistent coaching, don’t compete in meets on a regular basis and struggle to find safety in something as simple as going out for a daily run.

When Samia cannot make it to the stadium, she runs in the streets, where she runs into roadblocks of burning tires and refuse set out by insurgents. She is often bullied and threatened by militia or locals who believe that Muslim women should not take part in sports. In hopes of lessening the abuse, she runs in the oppressive heat wearing long sleeves, sweat pants and a head scarf. Even then, she is told her place should be in the home – not participating in sports.

“For some men, nothing is good enough,” Farah said.

Even Abdi faces constant difficulties, passing through military checkpoints where he is shaken down for money. And when he has competed in sanctioned track events, gun-toting insurgents have threatened his life for what they viewed as compliance with the interim government.

“Once, the insurgents were very unhappy,” he said. “When wevwent back home, my friends and I were rounded up and wevwere told if we did it again, wevwould get killed. Some of my friends stopped being in sports. I had many phone calls threatening me, that if I didn’t stop running, Ivwould get killed. Lately, I do not have these problems. I think probably they realized wevjust wanted to be athletes and were not involved with the government.”

But the interim government has not been able to offer support, instead spending its cash and energy arming Ethiopian allies for the fight against insurgents. Other than organizing a meet to compete for Olympic selection – in which the Somali Olympic federation chose whom it believed to be its two best performers – there has been littlevlavished on athletes. While other countries pour millions into the training and perfecting of their Olympic stars, Somalia offers littlevguidance and no doctors, not even a stipend for food.

“The food is not something that is measured and given to us every day,” Samia said. “We eat whatever we can get.”

On the best days, that means getting protein from a small portion of fish, camel or goat meat, and carbohydrates from bananas or citrus fruits growing in local trees. On the worst days – and there are long stretches of those – it means surviving on water and Angera, a flat bread made from a mixture of wheat and barley.

“There is no grocery store,” Abdi said. “We can’t go shopping for whatever we want.”

Hevlaughs at this thought, with a smile that is missing a front tooth.

***

When the gunvwent off in Samia’s 200-meter heat, seven women blasted from their starting blocks, registering as littlevas 16 one-hundredthsvof a second of reaction time. Samia’s start was slow enough that the computer didn’t read it, leaving her reaction time blank on the heat’s statistical printout.

Within seconds, seven competitors were thundering around the curve in Beijing’s Bird’s Nest, struggling to separate themselves from one another. Samia was just entering the curve when her opponents were nearing the finish line. A local television feed had lost her entirely by the time Veronica Campbell-Brown crossed the finish line in a trotting 23.04 seconds.

As the athletes came to a halt and knelt, stretching and sucking deep breaths, a camera moved to ground level. In the background of the picture, a white dot wearing a headband could be seen coming down the stretch.

***

Until this month, Samia had been to two countries outside of her own – Djibouti and Ethiopia. Asked how she will describe Beijing, her eyes get big and she snickers from under a blue and white Olympic baseball cap.

“The stadiums, I never thought something like this existed in the world,” she said. “The buildings in the city, it was all very surprising. It will probably take days to finish all the stories we have to tell.”

Asked about Beijing’s otherworldly Water Cube, she lets out a sigh: “Ahhhhhhh.”

Before she can answer, Abdi cuts her off.

“I didn’t know what it was when I saw it,” he said. “Is it plastic? Is it magic?”

Few buildings are beyond two or three stories tall in Mogadishu, and those still standing are mostly in tatters. Only pictures will be able to describe some of Beijing’s structures, from the ancient architecture of the Forbidden City to the modernity of the Water Cube and the Bird’s Nest.

“The Olympic fire in the stadium, everywhere I am, it is always up there,” Samia said. “It’s like the moon. I look up wherever I go, it is there.”

These are the stories they will relish when they return to Somalia, which they believe has, for one brief moment, united the country’s warring tribes. Farah said he had received calls from countrymen all over the world,vasking how their two athletes were doing and what they had experienced in China. On the morning of Samia’s race, it was just after 5 a.m., and locals from her neighborhood were scrambling to find a television with a broadcast.

“People stayed awake to see it,” Farah said. “The good thing, sports is the one thing which unites all of Somalia.”

That is one of the common threads they share with every athlete at the Games. Just being an Olympian and carrying the country’s flag brings an immense sense of pride to families and neighborhoods which typically know only despair.

A pride that Samia will share with her mother, three brothers and three sisters. A pride that Abdi will carry home to his father, two brothers and two sisters. Like Samia’s father two years ago, Abdi’s mother was killed in the civil war, by a mortar shell that hit the family’s home in 1993.

“We are very proud,” Samia said. “Because of us, the Somali flag is raised among all the other nations’ flags. You can’t imagine how proud wevwere when wevwere marching in the Opening Ceremonies with the flag.

“Despite the difficulties and everything we’ve had with our country, wevfeel great pride in our accomplishment.”

***

As Samia came down the stretch in her 200-meter heat, she realized that the Somalian Olympic federation had chosen to place her in the wrong event. The 200 wasn’t nearly the best event for a middle distance runner. But the federation believed the dash would serve as a “good experience” for her. Now she was coming down the stretch alone, pumping her arms and tilting her head to the side with a look of despair.

Suddenly, the half-empty stadium realized there was still a runner on the track, still pushing to get across the finish line almost eight seconds behind the seven women who had already completed the race. In the last 50 meters, much of the stadium rose to its feet, flooding the track below with cheers of encouragement. A few competitors who had left Samia behind turned and watched it unfold.

As Samia crossed the line in 32.16 seconds, the crowd roared in applause. Bahamian runner Sheniqua Ferguson, the next smallest woman on the track at 5-foot-7 and 130 pounds, looked at the girl crossing the finish and thought to herself, “Wow, she’s tiny.”

“She must love running,” Ferguson said later.

***

Several days later, Samia waved off her Olympic moment as being inspirational. While she was still filled with joy over her chance to compete, and though she knew she had done all she could, part of her seemed embarrassed that the crowd had risen to its feet to help push her across the finish line.

“I was happy the people were cheering and encouraging me,” she said. “But Ivwould have liked to be cheered because Ivwon, not because Ivneeded encouragement. It is something I will work on. I will try my best not to be the last person next time. It was very nice for people to give me that encouragement, but Ivwould prefer the winning cheer.

She shrugged and smiled.

“I knew it was an uphill task.”

And there it was. While the Olympics are often promoted for the fastest and strongest and most agile champions, there is something to be said for the ones who finish out of the limelight. The ones who finish last and leave with their pride.

At their best, the Olympics still signify competition and purity, a love for sport. What represents that better than two athletes who carry their country’s flag into the Games despite their country’s inability to carry them before that moment? What better way to find the best of the Olympic spirit than by looking at those who endure so much that would break it?

“We know that we are different from the other athletes,” Samia said. “But we don’t want to show it. We try our best to look like all the rest. We understand we are not anywhere near the level of the other competitors here. We understand that very, very well. But more than anything else, wevwould like to show the dignity of ourselves and our country.”

She smiles when she says this, sitting a stone’s throw from a Somalian flag that she and her countryman Abdi brought to these Games. They came and went from Beijing largely unnoticed, but may have been the most dignified example these Olympics could offer.