Rendell: We feel the athletes' emotions, too

ONE NIGHT this past week, I was looking for something to watch on TV and stumbled upon the Olympic trials for Track and Field in Eugene, Ore.

The women's 800-meter race was about halfway through, and the announcer was talking about Alysia Montano, a prerace favorite. All of a sudden, a collision left Montano falling to the track. By the time she was able to get up, she was weeping, because she knew her Olympic dream had ended. She nevertheless bravely finished the race, and the crowd roared their appreciation for her courage.

It was a crushing fall for Montano, a former U.S. Outdoor champion who had finished fifth in the 800 in the 2012 Olympics in London. At 30 years old, she knew her dream likely was gone forever, and as that reality set in, she burst into tears. It was almost impossible to watch.

It made me think of many things, particularly the slogan, "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat." When someone wins and realizes his or her dream, it is thrilling and surely emotional, but the level of emotion cannot compare to the agony of defeat.

I had never heard of Alysia Montano before, yet my heart broke for her and her pain was almost unbearable. But her experience was, unfortunately, not unique.

Her loss reminded me of Mary Decker, the greatest female distance runner in the world and a dream story for TV - a champion with all-American good looks. She was the favorite to win the women's 3,000-meter race at the 1976 Games in Montreal, but injury prevented her from competing.

In 1980, she seemed to be a mortal lock, but President Carter ordered American athletes to boycott the Moscow Olympics.

Finally, at the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles, she was able to compete and was in perfect position midway through the race. Like Montano, Decker got tangled up with another runner and crashed to the ground. Her fall caused her to injure a hip muscle and she burst into tears, in part from the pain, but more so because she saw her Olympic dreams sprinting away before her eyes. Even though this happened 32 years ago, I can still picture Decker lying on the track, tears streaming down her face. It, too, was almost unbearable to watch.

The most heartbreaking Olympics story actually did have a happy ending. Speedskater Dan Jansen, another made-for-TV, handsome "all-American," went into the 1988 Winter Games in Calgary as a heavy favorite to take home gold in both the 500- and 1,000-meter races. On the day he was to compete in the 500, his sister unexpectedly died from leukemia. With the whole world pulling for him, Jansen took to the ice only hours after his sister died, but only seconds into the race, he fell rounding the first turn, slid off the track and was eliminated. Although he was still the favorite in the 1,000 four days later, his nightmare continued as he fell again and failed to finish. The agony of defeat weighed not only on him, but also on sports fans all over the world.

Four years later in Albertville, France, he sought redemption, and though he was the favorite, once again, it was not to be. Jansen skated well, but one minor stumble was enough to keep him off the podium. He finished in fourth place in the 500, less than one-third of a second behind the winner. His spirit broke a few days later, when he finished 26th in the 1,000.

He decided to try one more time, at Lillehammer, Norway, in 1994. He came in as the world champion and recordholder in the 500, but cynics thought he would choke again. Unbelievably, he did. He lost his balance coming around a turn and dragged his hand on the ice; in a sport in which one-hundredth of a second means so much, the mistake pushed him back to eighth place. He would have one more chance in the 1,000, not his best distance, but he knew it was his last chance. Jansen virtually exploded off the mark and was on a world-record pace, then staggered, as Americans collectively gasped "not again." But he righted himself and crossed the finish line first, setting a world record. The crowd of 10,000 Norwegians and scores of other Olympic athletes applauded as Jansen took a victory lap, carrying his baby daughter Jane, named after his sister.

People sometimes ask me why I like sports so much, and the answer really is the emotions that come along with "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat." For great athletes who train so hard and so long and put so much heart and soul into trying to realize their dream, the emotions they experience, win or lose, touch us all.

I look forward to watching this summer's Olympics, and I hope that they are exciting, without incident and that American athletes do well. Most of all, though, I hope we don't have to endure the agony of watching another athlete - like Montano, Decker or Jansen - see his or her dreams disappear because of unfortunate circumstances.