My Earliest Olympic Memory: How I Learned
That Politics and Sports Don’t Mix (Part I)
The 1972 Olympics was the first time I witnessed how a nefarious political agenda could wreck sports. At 11-years-old, I was already a rabid basketball fan – mainly of the NBA’s professional New York Knicks in their glory days of the early 1970’s. On my backyard hoop, I tried to mimic the sweet ball-handling skills and shooting of Earl “The Pearl” Monroe, the laser-guided shooting stroke of “Dollar” Bill Bradley, and the electric defense and playmaking of “Clyde the Glide” Frazier. Knick’s games approximated basketball in its purest form: unselfish teamwork, incredible skill, and fierce competition rooted in a love of the game. Of course, they were still professionals, so they didn’t play purely for the love of the game. Players earned great money, although not the stratospheric salaries of today. 
I certainly didn’t play for money, which made Olympic basketball that much more special to me. The American Olympic men’s basketball teams were made up of college-aged amateurs who’d made their nation proud by winning every basketball gold medal ever awarded at the Olympics. The U.S. basketball team was a symbol – to me at least — of the superiority of democracy and freedom, and so their dominance transcended sports, particularly during the Cold War. At that time, the Olympic Games often seemed a morality play between the world’s two dominant nations, America and the Soviet Union, pitting liberty and prosperity against ruthless communist oppression. In short, the Cold War Olympics were no less than a battle of good versus evil.
As usual, America and the Soviet Union had the two best basketball teams in the world in 1972. The American side consisted of young college-aged men who’d never been paid a dime for playing basketball; the Soviets (who red-blooded Americans like me referred to as, “godless commies”) handsomely paid their much older and experienced players to train and play internationally, allowing the Soviets, over a period of seven years playing together, to develop a slick chemistry. The American team of college stars was cobbled together only months before the Olympics, so the players and coaches barely knew each other.
The Soviet “machine” easily handled the young Americans for most of the 1972 finals’ game, and had run up a 10 point lead well into the second half. The Soviets managed to provoke America’s leading scorer, Dwight Jones, into a scuffle, resulting in his being ejected. Still, a ferocious pressing defense by the Americans cut the Soviet lead to one with only seven seconds left. Then, American Doug Collins stole a Soviet pass, drove down court, was fouled as he attempted a lay-up, and nailed two clutch free throws to give America a one point lead. With the Soviets needing to inbound the ball under their own basket and travel the length of the court to score in just three seconds, the game seemed over. Suddenly, though, time stopped – not once, but three times.
(To be continued)
ProofsandSpoofs.com is written by David Culver Brenner, whose published his first book, The Un-Socialist Chickens, earlier this year. To learn more about it, go here. Enter your email in the “Subscribe” bar to receive the latest posts.