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I saw on the TV yesterday that you took home the bronze, a woman who barely qualified, whose odds were rather long. You had the skate of your life, with lutzes and salchows, congratulations are in order, this is your moment now. And you who won the silver, I understand your pain, favored heavy to win it all, but falling short again. Edged out by a hundredth, that must be hard to bear, but what you have done today is no reason to despair. We can’t forget the gold now, or the media’s new golden boy, so stoked about victory that his interviews annoy. He thinks he is the greatest, and he proclaims as much, guess the gold went to his head, the fans are thinking such. Yet all his spoiled antics, and the decadence of fame, makes me think of a medal that is much better made, not won for a mere sport, or racers out of the gate, won by men who truly have accomplished something great. Won by men with no mini-balls charging down Little Roundtop, stabbing at a grey horde through fire, smoke, and shot. Won amidst a tribal chorus of shrieking, shrill war cries when two American peoples could not bridge the divide. Won in the muddy trenches amidst the gas and poison, and flying through skies above to find the Lost Battalion. Won by that Great Generation, they’re not made like that no more, men who charged Iwo’s black sand, and Normandy’s bloody shores. Won in the forgotten war, by a sacrifice at Kangdong, and in the high elephant grass fighting tyrant Viet Cong. Earned in mountains and cliffs of savage Afghanistan, won by people who exemplify the true greatness of man. This medal is so revered but it needs to be said, these heroes rarely wear them, cause most of them are dead. It may take some courage to be the best on a ski, but it takes so much more to battle for this country. I think this when I see them, young bucks claiming prestige, can’t expect much perspective since half of them are teens, and I do not say all of this because their gold is not deserved, I say it so our highest praise goes to medals made of Honor.
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