I’ve had a complicated relationship with the Olympics since the 1998 games in Calgary. Picture this: an 8-year-old black girl listening to broadcasters talk about how figure skater Debi Thomas could be the first black competitor to win any kind of medal at a Winter Olympics. Her gold medal would be my gold medal.
Debi killed it in the short program, but still had to make it through the long program, deemed “The Battle of the Carmens” as Debi and Katarina Witt were slated to skate to the same selections from Bizet’s Carmen. Witt skated first. Then, Debi took the ice and fell at every possible turn, axel, and lutz. She took home the bronze.
Enter devastation.
Winning means first place. You cannot win bronze; you loser yourself into bronze.
This year’s Summer Olympics were the first games I’ve really watched since 1988. Sure, I saw Flo Jo haul ass, watched the Dream Team beat up on European national squads — occasional events here and there. This time around, I got all up in it.
Simone Biles? Awesomeness. Fu Yuanhui doubling over in pain, post-race, telling a reporter she had her period? Fantastic. Everything Usain Bolt? Yes, please. Katie Ledecky? Maryland pride.
Then, of course, Ryan Lochte. I would rather watch a video of Debi Thomas eating it than see another picture of Ryan Lochte. In the past two weeks, he managed to win some gold and loser himself into some silver medals. He also losered himself into the title of biggest assclown in Olympic history.
This means he beat out Marion “I’m a cheater” Jones, Lance “I cheated at the 2000 Olympics and couldn’t even loser myself a silver” Armstrong, even Bela “I’m carrying Kerri Strug like a doll and turning a victorious moment into something super creepy” Karolyi.
Granted, the American flag grill designed by Paul Wall (another assclown) that Lochte sported in 2012 was probably enough to win him the assclown title. But his lie about being held at gunpoint in Rio took him to Olympic (and world) record levels of assclowndom. Lochte told reporters that Brazilian men, including one that held a gun to Lochte’s forehead, accosted him and his teammates after they’d been to a club. Actually, he and his buddies vandalized a gas station bathroom and were questioned by security guards.
I imagine the beginning of the night went down like this:
Lochte: Yo, let’s go out, hit up some chicas, get some Mexican ass.
Roommates: Duuuude.
Lochte: Bruh.
Roommates: Shiiiiit.
Lochte: Who’s got Axe?
[Minutes later]
Lochte: Yo, Phelps. Forget the wife. Let’s tear shit up.
Phelps: Just blaze.
There’s plenty to say about Lochte’s white privilege, how he got “boys will be boys” but poor Gabby Douglas was taken to task on Twitter for being an angry black woman because a camera caught her not smiling. We know we live in a racist culture. Let’s just focus on the real issue here: Is it possible that Lochte is Trump’s illegitimate son?
This article appears in Aug 18-25, 2016.