EDINBURGH, Scotland – It never fails. After an Olympics, people always ask the same question: What was your favorite moment or event? I’m not even back yet, and I’ve heard it five times.
My answer is always the same, too. How can I possibly choose one?
Every day at the Olympics, you wake up with a renewed sense of awe and possibility. Every event is the column of a lifetime. Ask any reporter. It’s hard to pick out the best event on a single day. You’re constantly hearing about some great story you missed, because you were off covering rowing or gymnastics.
You’re tossed into this journalistic maelstrom, consigned to a routine of buses and conference rooms and stunning athletic achievements. After a while, it almost becomes routine to see more sports history unfold in front of you.
What’s that? Mo Farah just became the greatest British distance runner? I’ll see if I can wedge it in after watching Usain Bolt win another sprinting gold medal an hour later.
Years from now, when I sit down with my grandchildren, I won’t rank my best Olympic moments. They’ll pour out of me in a random babble. When they ask which was my favorite, I’ll have an answer ready: It would be like choosing my favorite grandchild.
All right, if Jake Kaminski put an arrow to my head, I’d have to say Fredonia’s Jenn Suhr’s winning gold in the pole vault. Following the “locals” is one of the happy parts of the job. It gets you to events you might not otherwise see. You have a sense of duty to honor the local athlete’s achievement.
When your local becomes a big international story by winning gold, it’s an unforgettable thing. I’m supposed to be objective, but I felt a surge of joy for Suhr when she won. Just before that, waiting for Yarisley Silva’s final vault was two of the most excruciating minutes you could imagine.
Suhr wanted that gold medal so badly. She was like a little girl in the mixed zone afterwards, talking about winning for all the people back home. She showed great class afterward by talking about how much she respected her rival, Yelena Isinbayeva, who had a high standard.
It was a great moment, seeing Jenn and Rick Suhr, her husband/coach, sobbing in each other’s arms.
They went through a lot of grief in Beijing. It was funny when a half-dozen reporters began chanting “Rick, Rick, Rick” because they wanted him allowed into the mixed zone to talk. They knew he would give some memorable quotes. He didn’t disappoint, comparing Jenn’s win to the U.S. hockey team’s upset of the Soviets in Lake Placid.
I always feel lucky at the Olympics. It was more so in London, where the great moments kept on coming.
I saw Paul McCartney lead 80,000 people in “Hey, Jude” in the opening ceremonies. I had tears in my eyes. I watched Queen Elizabeth officially start the Games. I saw Rowan Atkinson crack up the locals with his comedy. I saw a bunch of Mary Poppinses sail into the stadium.
I saw Michael Phelps win his final individual swimming gold medal. That same night, I watched Cameron Van der Burgh become the first South African to win an individual gold. I saw the French come from behind to stun the U.S. in the men’s 4x100 relay, just as the Americans had done to them in Beijing.
My granddaughters will be glad to know I was there the first time there were more women than men on the U.S. Olympic team. Everywhere I turned, there was a terrific story about the women. I went to see Holly Mangold, a 340-pound weightlifter, at practice. She wants to inspire girls not to be defined by their bodies. I didn’t care if she medaled. She’s a hero.
I saw Gabby Douglas become the first African-American to win the women’s gymnastics all-around. I saw her lead the U.S. women to the first team gold since Kerri Strug. I watched Hope Solo make two amazing saves to preserve the U.S. women’s soccer team’s third straight gold.
The U.S. women’s rowing eight won a second straight gold medal. Have I told you how electrifying it is to watch a 2,000-meter Olympic rowing event, waiting for the boats to come into view while the announcers report their progress?
A St. Joe’s grad named Tom Terhaar coaches the U.S. women’s rowing team. I tell people the best women’s rowing coach in the world went to school right up the street from me. After the race, Terhaar pulled out his cellphone to show me a photo of his 4-week-old son. He said his wife was the real hero in the story.
I saw Matt Anderson, the best volleyball player we’ve ever produced, make winning shots against top-ranked Brazil. It was tough to see him and his team go out in the quarterfinals, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing Anderson win an Olympic medal in the future.
I saw Farah win the 5,000 and Bolt win the 4x100 relay on the same night. I saw Sir Chris Hoy, from Scotland, win his sixth gold medal and cry on the medal stand afterward. I saw Katie Taylor box with what seemed like half of Ireland rooting her on. Taylor won the first boxing gold medal in 20 years for Ireland. We take medals for granted in the U.S.; not so, Ireland.
I watched South Africa’s Oscar Pistorius become the first double amputee to run in the “able-bodied” Olympics.
I saw LeBron James become the third man to win an Olympic gold medal in the same season he won the NBA championship and MVP.
I saw Mike Krzyzewski coach his final game for the national team. Coach K ended his news conference by congratulating the British on a great Olympics.
I listened as Guor Marial, one of the South Sudan “Lost Boys,” talked about running for his life as a boy. Marial had no national team to run for, so he competed under the Olympic flag. He said he wanted to have a news conference to thank the media for helping spread his story.
I watched Kaminski win a silver medal in team archery for the United States. They lost when an Italian, who had waited 16 years to win gold, made a bull’s-eye on the final arrow. It was a tough loss for the Americans, but it was one of those uplifting Olympic stories. I think it meant more to Italy.
And I have to confess: I was the one who sneaked Kaminski’s wife, Amanda, into the mixed zone after he won silver. I had run to get comments from his family, who had been told they had to leave the grounds.
Jake asked if I could bring her back. In a small breach of protocol, I led her into a restricted area.The archers appeared to have left at that point. I was turning to go upstairs to the news conference, wondering if the guards would stop Amanda, when we heard a voice yell her name. It was Jake, who had been talking with people on the field. She rushed to the rail, where they shared a teary embrace.
Maybe that was my favorite moment. No, maybe it was the Irish fans at boxing. Or Pistorius. Wait a minute, did I tell you about Serena Williams and my first trip to Wimbledon? ...

email: jsullivan@buffnews.com