If it was possible to put a vest on the 48 states stretching from North Carolina to California, this country would be bustin' its buttons right now. The Rio Olympics are over and the U.S. sits atop the heap with 121 medals, 46 of them gold. The closest competitor was Great Britain with 67 medals, 27 of them gold. Our principal rivals on the geopolitical stage, China and Russia, finished with 70 and 56 total medals respectively. Talk about American dominance!
A unique aspect of our record hardware haul is that Maryland accounted for 23 medals, 18 of them gold. If our state was a country, we would have come in eighth place among all nations and fifth place in the gold tally. What makes this even more impressive is that there were 206 participating countries and 11,544 athletes.
Maryland's accomplishments also mean that average Joes like me can claim some interesting connections. Our grandson's Takoma Park swim team has competed against Katie Ledecky's Bethesda team. Our granddaughter's third-grade teacher also taught Baltimore's Michael Phelps, and my daughter's former boss is the uncle of Woodbine's Kyle Snyder, gold medal wrestler.
OK, I can see you smirking out there, especially since some of you may know that I get to the Y no more than twice a week, and the only six-pack I'll ever own gets put into recycling when drained. Regardless, I still think this narrow degree of separation between my family and Olympic Gold is pretty cool. Besides, you should look for bragging rights wherever you can find them.
America's Olympic dominance is a testimony to the quality of training we offer athletes, their laser-like dedication and fierce will to succeed. They represent everything that's right about America and its indomitable spirit. It wasn't that long ago that countries like Romania ruled gymnastics with the likes of Nadia Comaneci. Now most experts agree that their Nadia couldn't hold a candle to the mastery of our Simone Biles.
Watching the broadcast of the Olympics and hearing the strains of "The Star-Spangled Banner" repeat time after time as our athletes cradled their gold medals made me proud of our country. That's because I know this winning attitude can also be found in so many other facets of our society. We see it in our military, especially among members of elite units like the Navy SEALS and the Army's Green Berets and Delta Force. They work anonymously, and their training and outstanding skills are expected to pay off amid whizzing bullets and explosions, something our Olympians don't have to worry about.
We see it in our higher education system. American universities and colleges remain second to none, and every year they produce more computer wizards for Silicon Valley to keep us on the cutting edge of computing technology, more research scientists to ensure we stay on top of the heap with Nobel Prize gold, and more MBAs who will be charged with the task of helping to run the strongest economy in the world.
If all of this be true, then why, in the immortal words of our own Spiro Agnew, do we have so many "nattering nabobs of negativism" abroad in the land? What's this talk about America in decline? Sure, it's an election year, but can't we pause once in a while and take pride in this great country's achievements? Why does everything have to be an "us vs. them" contest where good news can't simply be celebrated? Why when we hear encouraging numbers in the monthly jobs report, do detractors have to say, "Yes, but…" and talk about how many people have given up looking for work? As the national debt as a percentage of GDP continues to shrink, why do some pundits always yelp about mortgaging our children's future? When yet another ISIS stronghold falls to coalition troops assisted by the U.S. military, why do faultfinders complain that there's no strategy to defeat ISIS?
The U.S. is far from perfect, and I know that I have offered much criticism on these pages of our nation's shortcomings. I only wish that during the Olympics we could call a moratorium on such talk and bask in the momentary, golden glow of the Olympic torch. Such a pause might remind us that our glass isn't just half-filled; it runneth over.
Frank Batavick writes from Westminster. His column appears Fridays. Email him at fjbatavick@gmail.com.
