Eight For Eight...Michael Phelps...Golden Boy

I haven't found myself "caught up" in the Olympics all that much this year like I normally do. Not sure why. I'm not a huge political activist, so I cannot proclaim that my indifference has to do with the deplorable way the Chinese government treats its citizens. They do, and I abhor it, but more than likely...to my shame...it has to do with the 12-hour time difference.

Even so, I did manage to catch the women's gymnastics all-around final as it occurred when Nastia Liukin and Shawn Johnson from the U.S. took the gold and silver respectively. I am inspired by Dara Torres, the 41 year-old mom who missed, by the narrowest of margins, her first "individual" gold medal in the 50 meter freestyle last night, which was really today, but it is now tomorrow in Beijing. Whew! Talk about your jet lag.

And one would have to be living under a freakin' rock to not have heard about Michael Phelps and what he has accomplished...with some help from his teammates...in Beijing. Eight...count them... EIGHT gold medals. I'm sure a lot of people are heartily sick of seeing this young man's face "splashed" (pun intended) across their television screen or computer monitor, but hey, what have you...myself included...done lately in comparison? I don't know about you, but I consider it an accomplishment to drag my sorry butt out of bed every morning and take myself off to work.

The young man set a goal for himself...and achieved it. He is, in fact, living his dream, and for that he earns my respect. So, here's a hearty "well done" Michael. The only thing is, I wonder what the lad will do now that he has realized his "dream" at the ripe old age of twenty-three.

A mini-slideshow I put together from various photos I snagged from "Google." I can see the "Wheaties" box already.


Video by the Associated Press from YouTube. (Everybody does YouTube...a sign of the times, I suppose.) This includes footage of Dara Torres.


Here's the proud Mama. I thought she was going to have a coronary in the stands, watching him compete in the 100 meter butterfly the other night. I know I sure was screaming my throaty words of encouragement at the television here in my little apartment. I was certain Cavic had beaten him, but by a mere one one-hundredths of a second Michael proved victorious. I still cannot believe it and I watched it.