USA Number 2

[Editor's Note: This week, instead of the usual humor, I wanted to share my experience as a spectator at the 2002 Winter Olympic Games.  I hope you enjoy this little change of pace and rest assured that next week I'll be back with my usual smart-alec comments.]

Watching a bobsled race isn’t like watching a football game or a soccer match. There’s nowhere you can sit to see all of the action. My wife and I had reserved seats in the stands at the Utah Olympic Sports Park. From that vantage point, we had a glimpse of turn 12 and a clear view of the long sweep of turn 14. For the rest of the race, we had to watch the track map, scoreboard and Jumbotron.

We felt lucky to have tickets in the stands, though. Those without had to make do by crowing in next to the track and hoping for the best. From where we sat, we saw people waving flags from dozen different nations and we heard conversations in languages we couldn’t even begin to identify.

As the crowd filtered in and got settled, the announcer explained the rules of this first ever Olympic Women’s Bobsleigh competition.

At the start of each run, an official tells the competitors they have a green light. The countdown timer is set to sixty seconds. If the sled isn’t in the track before it hits zero, the team is disqualified. During those tense seconds the team makes its final preparations–the coach brushes snow out of the competitor’s cleats, other team members brush snow off the sled and out of the way, the drive and brakewoman secure their helmets and psych themselves for the run. Then comes the 50 meter push, the driver jumps in, the brakewoman jumps in, and the race against the clock is on. Less than a minute later they’ve traversed the 1,350 meters of track and arrived at the finish line.

There were fifteen teams in the competition that year. The two U.S. teams were slated to run third and tenth.

The first sled down the track caught us by surprise. We heard the rumble of its runners as it barreled down the ice and a series of lights on the track map marked off each way point that it passed. The sled exploded out of the straightaway and zoomed through turn 12. It vanished into turn 13 and then flashed through turn 14.

The scoreboard displayed an instant analysis of the sled’s time on each of the five segments of the course; push time, turn five, turn eleven and on and on toward the finish line. A ranking number next to each time told the story of how well the sled rated against the other competitors.

Team USA 1 — consisting of Captain Jean Racine and Gea Johnson — ran third. In the December before the games, Racine made the headlines when she fired her brakewoman Jen Davidson. Jean and Jen had been World Cup winners and Jean dismissed Jen just before the Olympic Team had to be finalized. There were lawsuits and arguments and it ended in arbitration. Jean prevailed and brought Johnson in as her new brakewoman. Unfortunately, an old hamstring injury kept Johnson from running her fastest on the push. Their performance was disappointing.

Six more sleds roared past with the regularity of commuter trains on a busy workday. Then it was time for USA 2 to make a run. Jill Bakken and Vonetta Flowers weren’t as well known as the team in USA 1. Flowers, in particular, was a newcomer to the sport. A sprinter and long jumper at the University of Alabama in Birmingham, she aspired to compete in the Summer Games. She never made the cut and resigned herself to never achieving her dream of competing in the Olympics. Her husband and coach hit on the idea of Bobsledding as an alternative and by the end of her rookie year, Flowers was the #1 ranked brakewoman in the U.S.

Standing in the cold air in February of 2002, she poured her ambition into the competition. The starter green-lighted them and the timer ticked down. Bakken and Flowers readied themselves to race; cleaning their cleats, securing their faceplates, thumping their hands together like a game of two-fisted “one potato, two potato”… At 12 seconds they lunged at the sled and shot down the track.

The board flashed their start time and the number 1 appeared next to it. The crowd roared! Down through turn five and another 1 popped up on the board. With each checkpoint, they lengthened their lead. Deep in the labyrinth — the series of sharp turns which had already cost several sleds a shot at the gold — Bakken handled the sled with grace and confidence.

They emerged from twelve, we screamed and shouted and rang our cowbells. USA 2 whipped through turn fourteen to a deafening roar of approval. The standings flashed, showing USA 2 as the number one sled. Five more teams ran, but none of them beat Bakken and Flowers’ time.

Of course, the race consists of two heats and winning one doesn’t guarantee a victory in the second. A long forty-five minutes passed while the sleds were trucked back to the top of the run and the teams readied for heat two. The rules called for the slowest sled to run first in the second heat. That put Bakken and Flowers at the bottom of the rotation.

For the next half hour fourteen teams ran, most of them holding the top spot briefly. At the end of it, the two German teams held first and second, but USA 2 had yet to run.

On the Jumbotron, Bakken and Flowers prepared for the make-or-break race. In less than two minutes the race would be over one way or another.

The starter cleared them to launch. The timer clicked to 60 seconds. They worked their start-up routine with casual ease. Just past the 20 second mark, they leaped and the sled shot forward.

The number 1 flashed for their start time (coincidentally indicating a new track record). The crowd roared in approval, no longer rooting for a particular team; just caught up in that moment and that place and the thrill of the competition.

An eternity passed. USA 2 whooshed through turn five–still number one. The cheer swelled. Through the labyrinth–still in perfect control, still number one–and the cheer grew louder until it consumed all other sounds on the mountain.

The string of ones continued until USA 2 slid easily through turn fourteen to the roar of the crowd. The announcement of the victory was lost in the wash of excited voices as we all hugged and kissed and high-fived each other.

Bakken and Flowers made history that day as the first women to win a gold medal in the Olympic Women’s Bobsleigh. Flowers earned an additional honor as the first person of African descent — from any country — to ever win a gold medal at the Winter Olympics. What the record books don’t record, is the perfect moment of unity that we all shared as we watched them race to victory.