BMX

So after three days, BMX completed its debut at the Olympic Games. There was a rain delay yesterday, which postponed the finals to this morning. The weather was baking hot. The mixed zone was the most crowded yet; I clung to an umbrella post in a pile of backpacks, tripods, and BBC workers and tried to think of a way to describe the scene on my blog. Basically, the mixed zone was about five feet wide. There was a wall at least two backpacks deep on one side with tripods sprinkled here and there. On the other side, facing where the athletes wander through, a crowd of at least one to three journalists deep at any given time struggled to flag cyclists over after events. At one point, a reporter got pushed over accidently into my umbrella, and I had to help catch her. While listening in on the BBC interview Shanaze Reade, a British BMX cyclist predicted to take gold but crashed in the final, I got trapped in between a cameraman and his equipment. Luckily, I had already gotten several quotes.

Today, many of the track cyclists were wandering around the media and team area. Theo Bos, Chris Hoy, Jamie Staff, Guo Shuang, Victoria Pendleton, Kevin Sireau, and many others I may have forgotten about or not seen. I heard a rumor that several players from the American basketball team may have been in attendance. 

But let's talk BMX. Hardcore, much? Crashes galore, if that's your bag. The first day there was a crash involving Kyle Bennett, from the USA, and Liam Phillips, from Great Britain. Both of the riders dislocated their shoulders, and had them immediately popped back in before leaving the field of play. I took notes on the interview with Phillips when he spoke with the BBC. He was holding his shoulder in, but appeared perfectly normal. He said: "This has been an amazing experience, but it would have been nice to race tomorrow (talking about the finals). You can't race with a dislocated shoulder, but it's back in now (talking nonchalantly about his freshly separated-then-popped-back-in shoulder)." Kyle Bennett went on to ride in the finals, however. I can't imagine what that feels like. 

Although I knew of BMX before the Olympics, I never followed it very closely, so I was surprised by the number of crashes. Apparently, it doesn't always involve touching other riders, but rather not being able to control the sheer force and velocity. It was intense.

Unfortunately, America did not win gold. A Latvian rider got gold in the men's, with Mike Day from the U.S. getting silver and Donny Robinson receiving bronze. Two French riders took gold and silver in the women's, with American Jill Kintner earning bronze. 

Here's some pictures of the venue and other competition-related things. I stole these from one of my ONS supervisors Amy:

The course.

These stylish bibs can go outdoors as well! The blue army sitting below the media area during time trial qualification runs.

The women racing. In the words of Donny Robinson: "Rad."

Shanaze Reade walking through the notorious broadcast mixed zone. I was stationed directly behind the camera(s) and the blonde head on the left.

The women's medal ceremony.

American bronze medalist Jill Kintner before the press conference. She walked in, set her roses and helmet by her microphone, plopped down in the audience next to an acquaintance from the media (I presumed), and kicked back for a few minutes. I haven't seen other athletes do anything like this. Leave it to an American. It was cool.

During the press conference.

I was disappointed that I haven't seen an American gold medal ceremony yet, but I'm proud we medaled three times in only two events. I hope BMX achieves what it set out to do in the Olympics. 

Speaking of disappointing lack of gold medal ceremonies, I attended the softball final last night. U.S.A. versus Japan, the final Olympic softball game ever, at least for a while. We lost. We've never lost. I was moderately upset. Let's not talk about it for now. 

Tomorrow is the final day of cycling competition. Because BMX was delayed a day, there is a marathon mountain biking day: men's race in the morning, women's race in the afternoon. The races should take around two hours. 

And then it's over?

Sad. 

Hoy rules the world and the competition moves to the BMX course

Today was the end of the track cycling events. It's nearly midnight now, and I have to be on a bus back to the Velodrome at 7 a.m., so quickly, here's the top six things of interest from the day:

6. I tried a piece of dried yak meat. Tasted like fertilizer. Not recommended.

5. Two support staff members for the British team put the tight cycling uniforms on after Chris Hoy's third medal win and did an interview with the BBC, which was the funniest thing I've seen on the field of play at the velodrome.

4. If the British cycling team were its own country, they would be ranked ninth in the overall medal count.

3. Tony Blair and the queen of Spain (separately, not together) were at Laoshan today watching the races.

2. I interviewed and wrote a story about Donny Robinson from the U.S., the No. 1 ranked BMX rider in the world. He was extremely charming and wholesome, even. He says as a "BMXer," he has no time or desire to drink, smoke, or get into trouble, and he wants to be a role model for the young people who watch the sport. Good for him.

(The BMX area, by the way, is awesome, and so was watching the athletes train. It was a different world from the track. Races start tomorrow morning, so more on that later.)

1. Chris Hoy won his third gold medal in five days, making British Olympic history. He wore all three after the third medal ceremony, and they sounded like glasses clinking into the microphone during the press conference. He worked 12 years for this, so kudos to him for accomplishing what many athletes can only dream of.

This photo was taken right after the medal ceremony, when his coach plopped the sponsored sunglasses on the top of his head. Hoy promised to do a dance for all the media if he won three gold medals, but we're still waiting on that as far as I know.

Here's a nice little article on him by Reuters. I listened to him say all this stuff. It's a good article with good quotes:

http://www.blogger.com/Hoy%20Article

We've been watching this man train for two weeks, so I'm glad for him. But now it is time for a shift - a move to the BMX course. Can't wait.

Just another day at the office

Today in a nutshell...

Dramatic crash during the Women's Points Race

The points race is vicious. For 16 women, it's 100 laps around the velodrome, but like the individual sprint, it is a race that involves both strategy and speed. Every 10 laps, there is a sprint, and the first five riders to finish get points. If you happen to lap the herd, you get an extra 20 points; if you get lapped, you lose 20 points. Cyclists have to watch their competition and choose the right time to try to lap the rest of the riders. It takes monstrous amounts of endurance. Additionally, since the riders move around in a huge pack and follow each other closely for less wind drag, cyclists need good reaction time and agility, as proven today. Amy, our supervisor, predicted there would be a crash, because "there's always a crash in the women's points race."

I was standing in the mixed zone, per usual, turning around in circles to follow the race, and around lap 21, I heard the telltale clunk, clunk, thump sound I've come to recognize as a crash on the track. I've witnessed more than one crash this week, the first was during the very first qualification race; a rider from Poland wiped out on the second lap. Also, Theo Bos crashed during his qualifying shot at the keirin. This collision, however, was more dramatic than the others because of the number of people involved. One of riders accidently clipped another bike with her wheel after the second sprint, causing a snowball crash down a bend (the bends are the elevated sides of the track.. Laoshan's bends are at 42 degree angles). Several riders went down; a Chinese rider barely wobbled and escaped the avalanche of bikes and people. We saw Trine Schmidt from Denmark emerge from the pileup to continue on the race, but Sarah Hammer from the United States was in agony. Amy commented that her collarbone was probably broken by the way she was holding her arm, which is a common injury in track cycling. Riders from Japan and Germany looked hurt as well. Another wound common on the track is burns; when riders fall and slide against the wood, their Spandex-y uniforms burn off on the track or sometimes into their skin. It's brutal. I wrote a little bit about Olympic heartbreak last night, and this is another example. Many of these women only compete in this one race, because there's only three female track cycling events at the Olympics, and in one instant, a wheel can clip another wheel and cause a multiple person tumble that results in a DNF (did not finish) instead of the sought-after Gold.

Clunk, clunk, thump. An unidentified track cycling crash.

What happened to Theo Bos?

Another dramatic story from today is that of Theo Bos from the Netherlands. The Dutch have been plagued so far in the competition: a rider crashed into his coach during training, another rider crashed while practicing on the road and broke both of his arms, and then there's the Beijing downfall of star Dutchman Theo Bos. I wrote a bit about Theo, the speedy golden boy, a while back because he was projected to medal in several events: He holds a world record and was undefeated for a few years. He, however, did not even make it to a final for any of his events. Today was his last chance, and he did not move on to the men's sprint. A few days ago, a Polish rider clipped him during the qualifying round of the keirin, causing him to crash, and it's been downward from there. He finished ninth in the flying 200 meter, the event in which he holds the world record. In an interview, Theo said that his legs don't work any longer, and that no one has to fear his speed. He seemed very glum since his keirin crash, however, and I think the mental part of the game got to him. He's going to 25 years old on August 22. Chris Hoy and many other medalists in their prime are in their 30s, so he's got lots time to recover and reclaim his spot on the podium. I think he'll be fine.

Anyway, my mother asked me to post pictures of Laoshan on my blog. As a personal rule, however, I don't take pictures inside the 'Drome, because it looks unprofessional when people in uniform walk around wielding digital cameras and snapping pictures at athletes and who knows what else during competition. So here's a bunch of images of the velodrome from various websites. Welcome to the office:

Above and below: Pretty much my view during competition.

Great Britain right after winning Gold in the Men's Team Sprint.

When this picture was taken, I was stationed by the BBC and ducking somewhere behind the microphone under the arm of the man on the left, Jamie Staff.

Tuesday is the last day of track competition. I'm working a "double," going in early to hang around the outdoor courses while riders train and then switching over to the track events in the afternoon. BMX and mountain biking begin soon! Move over, Britain. It's time for a little American bike domination. :-)

The British invasion

I spoke with an excellent friend over Skype last night, and she told me the American media have concentrated most of their coverage on basketball, beach volleyball, and Michael Phelps. I doubt NBC will air any track events, only BMX, so let me give you the lowdown on Laoshan to feed your newfound love for cycling:

British domination. 

That's the last two days of competition in 17 letters. So far, the Brits have been the Michael Phelps of the velodrome, a cycling war machine thundering around the track, snatching up any medals in its path. That may sound like a stretch, but it's really not. They're making history.

Chris Hoy, aforementioned Scottish "colossus," as coined by some of the Brit press, has already won two gold medals, and will shoot for his third gold at the men's individual sprint finals. Bradley Wiggins (pictured above), endurance machine, won a gold for the individual pursuit and will go for his second gold at the team pursuit. The British have been doubling up on medals in events, including Ross Edgars, silver in keirin, Steven Burke, bronze in the individual pursuit, Rebecca Romero, gold in women's pursuit, and Wendy Houvenaghel, silver in the women's pursuit. 

Any time a cyclist set an Olympic record today, the Brits, not to be outdone, would beat it. I stood in the broadcast mixed zone and watched Anna Meares from Australia set an Olympic record for the flying 200 meter just to have Victoria Pendleton make Olympic history by completing it in less than 11 seconds. Jason Kenny, the 20-year-old gold medalist from the men's team sprint, broke the Olympic record for the flying 200 meter as well. Then, of course, Chris Hoy took his turn, and broke Kenny's less-than-two-minutes-old record, and came a within a half second of beating Theo Bos' world record of 9.7-something seconds. And then (I know, there's more), the men's pursuit team broke a world record. In fact, Bradley Wiggins broke his own Olympic record for the individual pursuit yesterday. It's complete madness. I commented to a BBC camera guy, "It's a good day to be British."

The Brit training area is next to the broadcast mixed zone, so I tend to observe the team when I have downtime. Cyclists are always up on the rollers (an example of a cyclist on rollers to your left), moderate pace, then fast, fast, fast, then moderate. Then they'll get off the rollers and go around and around and around in circles in the open floor area. Sometimes a murky protein beverage will be involved post race. The support staff is always working as well, the mechanics in aprons cleaning the bikes and hanging them on racks. The best part is the coaches encouraging riders during races; they cup their hands around their mouths and bark "Hup! Hup! Hup!" I don't know exactly what they're saying, but it certainly sounds very British. But most of the time, it's just rollers, circles, track, rollers, circles, track, rollers, circles or rollers, circles, race, cool-down circles, rollers, powdered beverage. 

To someone who isn't an athlete, it probably sounds monotonous typed out like that. I've been watching the same activities for a week, but to me, it's not monotonous at all. It's inspiring. The Olympics seemingly pop up out of nowhere every couple years, and then, surprise, there's ultra-talented athletes ready to compete. People tend to forget about the preparation; those athletes are spending thousands of hours to get ready for that one race, the cyclists going around and around in circles or the swimmers doing lap after lap. Watching the process really drives home the idea that no matter what you do, you must bust your butt to achieve great things. Succeeding isn't quick like a "Rocky" movie training montage, it takes hours, weeks, years. I sound like one of those inspirational person-running-up-a-mountain posters, but watching the teams practice and compete at the velodrome has showed me only a piece of the dedication that hundreds of teams put into the Olympic Games. Amazing. 

All of the dedication I've witnessed also makes the Games a little more heartbreaking as well. I'll be honest, I was bummed when Shane Kelly didn't medal. For those who don't follow cycling: He's a 36-year-old, world championship-winning, record-holding, five-time Olympic veteran from Australia who has won silver and bronze before, but never gold. He's come excruciatingly close. Many journalists still ask questions about the time in Atlanta when his foot slipped from the pedal at the start of a race he was set to win. Kelly took the time to do a quickie interview after a training session last week; he gave me a lot of good material and was a genuinely nice guy. I wrote a "last shot at gold" story for the news service, because this was his final Olympics before retiring from the international cycling scene. He competed in the keirin, one of my favorites, a race in which anything can happen: A herd of cyclists follow behind a progressively accelerating derny (motorbike) for several laps, the scooter takes off, and then the riders sprint, cutting each other off, boxing each other in, pulling ahead, sneaking up, just craziness, to the finish. I don't show preference for any riders while I'm in the mixed zone, meaning no cheering or clapping or reacting emotionally to specific teams, but my eyes were bugging out of my head from trying to keep the adrenaline under control while I watched the riders jostle around the track. Toward the end, however, my heart sank a little. Much to my discontent, Kelly finished fourth. That being said, he gave it a fantastic run. After the race, Ross Edgars, the bronze medalist, made several comments about having to fend Kelly off.

So I say cheers to Shane Kelly and his accomplished cycling career, with or without Olympic gold. And that is that.

COMPETITION BEGINS!

Friday rang in the beginning of the track cycling events: the Men's Team Sprint qualifying rounds and finals, as well as the qualifying rounds for the Individual Men's and Women's Pursuits. I began the day in the press mixed zone, ended up down in the office for awhile, and then finished in the broadcast mixed zone. Being in the broadcast mixed zone is tricky business; you have to silently squeeze in by interviews, quote the athletes, make sure not to bump into/knock over any equipment, and whatever you do, never, EVER get in the shot. I happened to sandwiched between the Australians and Germans during the team sprint finals: Australians vs. Germans for bronze (ironic spot?) and Great Britain vs. France for gold and silver. The results: Great Britain dethroned France for gold, and the Germans beat out the Aussies by .008 seconds for the bronze. 

It was like looking through a cycling kaleidoscope: The Australian coach squatting on the bottom of the track, waving his arms furiously for the team to haul faster; a German, post race, sitting on the steps with his face buried in a paper bag trying to keep it together; French team members barking encouragement from the training area during the race; Chris Hoy, hanging over the barrier to the spectator area, hugging his family and signing autographs; an event coordinator wearing a headpiece, pushing teams away from the journalists because, "THE MEDAL CEREMONY CANNOT WAIT! They will come back!"; Arnaud Tournant wearing a shirt with "Happy Birthday, Mom" in French scrawled on it.. there are many elements in an event, and it's fascinating seeing it all come together behind the scenes. 

Here's a YouTube video of the medal ceremony from the Men's Team Sprint, as shown by the BBC. At 2:15, this is the view from the press mixed zone, where I started my day. Directly under the French, British, and German flags, see bright yellow and green barriers? This is the broadcast mixed zone, where I viewed both races in the Aussie German sandwich. Pretty fantastic, eh?

Today is my favorite event, the Keirin, in addition to two other medal competitions. I have much more to write about that happened this week, including interviews with athletes and a SWAT team saving my now-useless ATM card, so stay tuned.

Opening Ceremonies Madness

The majority of our Purdue group went to Paul's, the aforementioned North American-style diner owned by a Canadian, to watch the Opening Ceremonies on NBC via satellite television. A handful of us, however, including myself, wanted to experience the next best thing to being in the Bird's Nest. Tiananmen Square doesn't have screens to play live feeds, so Alysha, Chris, Kelsey, Val, and I took a gamble on Wangfujing, a car-less shopping area located next to the Oriental Plaza Mall and the flagship Olympics store. Chris calls it the "Times Square of Beijing"; it has beverage stands, cosmopolitan shops, and most importantly, huge screens. There were rumors there wouldn't be an outdoor broadcast, but stubbornly, we took the subway there anyway, looking for a miracle.

It paid off ten-fold.

Wangfujing was madness, completely perfect Opening Ceremonies madness. We arrived about an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, and hundreds of people were already rallying for China, chanting into megaphones, pumping their fists in the air, waving huge Chinese and Beijing Olympics flags. People wore stickers on their faces and tied red headbands around their foreheads. Our spots were great, less than 50 yards from the screen without any major visual obstructions. Thousands of people soon filled the plaza. Brazilians wearing bright green wigs, football-style face paint, and yellow jerseys climbed onto each other's shoulders. Men from the Netherlands in orange joker hats serenaded passers-by with their national anthem. Germans, Australians, and Russians shook their flags in the air. Mexico, Venezuela, Sweden, Hungary, New Zealand, France, Estonia, Ireland, Italy, and God bless it, America, all had representatives cheering wildly in the sea of Chinese spectators. It was like a European football championship without any animosity. When one country chanted loudly, the Chinese would start chanting louder, but it was all good humored. All of us were proud to be there, in the heart of Beijing, celebrating the greatest event in sports that brings the world together.

China's communal spirit goodheartedly ruled the crowd; when the ceremony first sparkled across the screen, everyone sat on the ground so we could all see equally. People climbing in nearby trees were shooed down to prevent injuries. Human chains formed passageways for people looking to leave or get into the plaza.

The Opening Ceremonies gave me chills. Stunning, regal, ornate, absolutely gorgeous. I felt very proud of China. This is the place I've fallen in love with for the past five weeks, I thought. Please give it a chance.

When athletes began to march into the Bird's Nest, however, the crowd became even more jubilant. Everyone cheered for each other's country. The Chinese went nutty for Taipei, Hong Kong, Korea, Venezuela, and Russia. All the foreigners hollered for their favorites as well. When the slew of American athletes went around the track, we almost lost our voices whooping "U-S-A! MAY-GUAH!" The Chinese cheered with furor for the U.S., but there were a few murmurs when President Bush was shown. The only country booed was Japan.

Slick with sweat, we wandered out of the hullabaloo to get water from a nearby popsicle stand. As we took pictures with random people and breathed some fresh air, the Chinese athletes arrived, and the masses erupted. People ran back into the crowd, breathless, delighted, screaming.

Shortly after, we opted to take a taxi back to the university to avoid the inevitable mass exodus from the plaza. The streets of Beijing were empty, and we made it to the dorm in time to watch the torch ignite the Olympic cauldron.

Although I didn't get to see the ceremonies at the Nest, the night couldn't have been more perfect:

I took video of the all the commotion. I hope to upload it later, but right now I'm off to see if I can catch a glimpse of the cycling road race today; I want to explore the city again and see the changes that have been made in the past two weeks. 

You too can be a cycling expert

Behold, the mighty Olympic News Service bib!

Not to be confused with lead aprons people wear while getting x-rays or smocks to finger-paint in, these stunning items distinguish us ONS workers from the rest of the Blue Army, complete with glow-in-the-dark lettering and two plastic clips on each side so we can't fall out.

My job until competition? Stroll around the field of play wearing this beauty while cyclists practice, interview athletes post-training, enter the quotes into system and/or write the story. As I predicted, the last two days have been infinitely more exciting than Tuesday. The track cycling "high rollers" (yes, the puns are almost limitless) have arrived: Great Britain, France, and the Netherlands. I have not yet seen the Australians, another formidable cycling powerhouse.

Track cycling isn't popular in America, so readers back in the States may not recognize the names, but I've been watching Theo Bos, Chris Hoy, Bradley Wiggins, Rebecca Romero, and Arnaud Tournant tool around the Velodrome. There are eight Olympic medals between these cyclists.

Today I took back-up notes for Andrea when she interviewed French cyclist Tournant, pictured below.

A world record holder, he has gold, silver, and bronze medals from past Olympics. Tournant will let a reporter, or an entire room full of reporters, know when he's displeased: He once had a fierce stare down with a journalist he didn't like during a press conference and wouldn't speak until said journalist left the room, so we were slightly anxious going into the interview. Tournant, however, was extremely pleasant and accommodating. He answered all of Andrea's questions as thoroughly as possible with charm and a friendly sense of humor.

There are a few younger French riders who are experiencing their first Olympics. During the interview, I looked over and noticed one of them taking pictures of the track, the ceiling, and Andrea and me (in our glorious bibs) talking to Tournant. Pictures of the flash quote reporters? It's comforting to know I'm not the only one who's a little awestruck being here.

So in honor of the European athletes I've been observing and all my non-track-cycling-oriented American friends back home, let's do a crash course in one event right now.

INDIVIDUAL SPRINT 101

The event: Individual sprint

What it is: A three-lap race around the Velodrome between two riders

In plain English: Although it is a "three-lap race," the riders don't immediately take off and ride three laps as quickly as possible. The sprint is strategic; the entire race isn't clocked, and the ultimate goal is to cross the finish line first, not break time records. For the first lap or so, the two cyclists play cat and mouse, watching each other, keeping track of each other's positions, and anticipating the next move. Some cyclists prefer to be in front, others, behind; sprinters have been known to come to a standstill, balancing on their bikes, waiting for the opponent to take the next step. You don't want to be too far behind or vulnerable for an attack. Eventually, one of the riders will "drop" into the sprint lane, and then the explosive racing begins. If a rider gets too far behind or doesn't pay attention, his or her opponent may drop into a sprint sooner, and hope the straggler doesn't catch up. If a rider drops into a sprint too soon, however, there is a chance he or she will be overtaken.

Other tidbits: Endurance cyclists look wiry and lean, like Lance Armstrong. Sprint cyclists, however, are stacked with mounds of muscle, and look like they could snap a cinder block with their thighs without blinking or straining themselves. This shows how much power and strength is needed to blast and maneuver a bike around the track for a few laps.

Let's watch an example involving two of the cyclists hanging around Laoshan for the past two days.

The race: 2008 World Championships in Manchester

The contenders:

IN THE ORANGE

Theo Bos (Tay-Oh Boss)

24 years old

Netherlands

a.k.a. Dutch golden boy

Athens silver medalist (sprint)

Five-time world champion

Will ride a bike worth almost U.S. $800,000 at the Beijing Olympics

IN THE BLUE AND RED

Chris Hoy

32 years old

Great Britain

a.k.a. Scottish track colossus

Athens gold medalist (1 km time trial)

Sydney silver medalist (team sprint)

Nine-time world champion

Used to ride junior BMX, but switched to track. Ironically, the 1 km time trial, his signature event, was replaced by BMX this year at the Olympics, so he transferred his skills to the individual sprint.

Again, Theo is in the orange (the Dutch always wear orange) and Chris is in red and blue. I'm not going to tell you what happens, because it is exciting! Watch for yourself:

See how track cycling is packed with adrenaline? And now you can wow your friends with your knowledge of the individual sprint and two of its favorites for gold this year.

I may be an arm's length away from this rematch in a few days.

The opening ceremonies are tonight, so I'm going to scope out the city and see if any outdoor spots will have a live feed playing. If not, I will join my comrades at a North American-style diner to watch NBC via satellite. We shall see.