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Buckets of Tears

buckets of tears

Peter Victor Ueberroth was the leader of the 1984 Olympics.  I was a young speech coach working with the Chairman of KPMG, the global consulting firm.  

Ueberroth was the keynote speaker the morning of the first day of the firm’s annual retreat, held in the biggest ballroom in America.

In his speech, Ueberroth immediately ingratiated himself with his audience by announcing that he had studied at the Harvard of the west–San Jose State. ( KPMG consultants liked to think of themselves as blue-collar types, so his remark went over well.)

He talked about the relatively new idea of having private citizens pay to carry the Olympic torch for a few miles through their hometowns.  It became a very popular thing to do, and it proved to be a dramatic prelude leading up to the Los Angeles games, as the runners came across the country.

Ueberroth told a story.  One day in the office, he was busy making calls, when an assistant rushed into his office and said, “Come quick, you have to see this.”

He went to the big TV screens in another room.  A young woman with a severe disability was carrying the Olympic Torch down the main street of her hometown. The sidewalks were thick with people.  Flags were flying.  Policemen on motorcycles were leading the young woman, who was clearly exhausted. 

Someone rushed out to help her, and she pushed them away.  The police parked their motorcycles.  The crowd was clapping, cheering and crying.  The TV camera man turned his camera on the police standing on the side of the road, and they were crying. 

Ueberroth began to cry, then everyone watching the TV was crying. 

What perfect storm creates such strong emotions in us? Is it the sight and sound of heroic suffering? You may have seen videos of Olympic athletes struggling to finish a race simply to honor the creed that one should never give up.

We may cry at sudden gratitude, sudden relief, or a sudden memory of an overwhelming loss. Some of us never cry.  That must be hard going, not to be able to discharge such powerful emotions such as grief and loss. 

And contrary to Tom Hanks saying there is no crying in baseball, there is, lots of it, in baseball and other sports, like football. Just two weeks ago Dak Prescot, the brilliant quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys, damaged his ankle, weeping as he was wheeled off the field, hiding his tears between his fingers.  

It hurts. I Know.  I played high school football and when I got injured the tears were not about the pain. They were about the fact that I would not be on the field with my comrades.

But a young girl with a severe disability determined to punch above her weight, alone, in front of her entire hometown, struggling to carry the flag of the United States of America…that made me cry.