Declaration to Break Free from 'Medal Mania'
With the PyeongChang Olympics about to open, I, having grown up in an environment where local seniors and juniors were Winter Olympic participants, am even more excited than I am for the Summer Olympics. It's not just because I want to cheer for the Japanese athletes, but because I am truly happy that winter sports, which are rarely broadcast on TV, are getting attention and that I can watch the world's top athletes perform.
Therefore, whether or not Japanese athletes win medals is, if anything, secondary. Of course, every athlete wants a medal, and everyone is aiming for one. But that is ultimately the athletes' concern; we outsiders can only cheer them on, and I honestly feel that it's unpleasant to judge an athlete's worth based on the presence or color of a medal.
Every athlete is betting their life on participating in the Olympics. These are people who have dedicated even the time that others spend playing or zoning out to their sport. That is why I want to wholeheartedly support only the resolve, courage, and performance of athletes who have staked their lives on this.
Because of this, I dislike the predictions made by sports newspapers and TV programs, such as 'how many medals will be won in that event.' It feels like the 'Japanese are medal-crazy' sentiment expressed by former swimmer Suzu Chiba (now Yamamoto) in the past.
Even so, I think there was a moment when all of Japan broke free from 'medal mania'—at the Sochi Olympics. Yes, when I watched Mao Asada skate in the women's figure skating free skate.
Mao-san, who had fallen to 16th place in the short program the day before. I remember saying this to my son at that time.
'An athlete who has staked her life on aiming for a gold medal has seen that dream become hopeless. When that happens, watch closely to see what kind of performance she gives! That is the way that athlete lives!'
Although not to the extent of an Olympic athlete, I wanted my son, who is recklessly devoted to kendo, to see what kind of performance Mao-san would give after being driven to the edge of a cliff of despair. I told him this because I believed that Mao-san would likely give a wonderful performance without giving up, but the result was an incredibly amazing performance that exceeded even my expectations.
That performance was truly amazing. Explaining why it was amazing is just an afterthought. It was simply, purely amazing. At that moment, I truly felt from the bottom of my heart, 'I don't need medals.' The Twitter timeline at the time was filled with tweets like 'Medals don't matter' and 'A performance better than a gold medal.' And everyone tweeting was clearly crying, their hearts moved by Mao-san's performance. Even though it was the middle of the night.
In a place like the Olympics where everyone aims for medals, the fact that what moved everyone was the best performance of an athlete who simply loved and devoted herself to her sport, regardless of medals, is just too amazing, surreal, and like something out of a manga. However, I also feel that this is what it means to truly savor Olympic competition.
At the previous Sochi Olympics, Sara Takanashi, a women's ski jumper who was expected to win gold just like Mao-san, finished in 4th place. While the national media reported it with a sense of disappointment, like 'No medal won,' local TV in Hokkaido reportedly aired congratulatory comments saying, 'Congratulations to Takanashi-san and Ito-san for placing!'
It is wonderful that they were happy about them placing rather than focusing on not winning a medal, and it is a 'good job' that they also properly paid attention to Yuki Ito, who competed in the same event and is also from Hokkaido. I think this feeling of loving local athletes is what is reducing 'medal mania.'