In my last post, I wrote about my Olympic aspirations and attempt to get my sport of bowling into the games. These are some of the photos I snapped during my stay at the Olympic Complex in Colorado Springs, Colorado for the Team USA National Bowling Conference. That was nearly 20 years ago, but I'm sure they are still fairly representative of the facility. The Olympic Complex, former home of ENT Air Force Base and the headquarters of the North American Defense Command, officially became USOC administrative headquarters in July 1978.
I don't really know what I expected to find upon my arrival, but I'm not sure I was quite prepared for the stark housing quarters. The athletes don't live in cushy digs while they train. As it was previously a military command, it is functional and utilitarian at best. We shared sparsely non-appointed rooms and occupancy was co-ed. Females roomed and showered with females (even if their spouse was there) and it was the same for males.
This high powered conference was attended by many of the sports royalty. It was fun seeing professional people, usually seen in magazines and on television, first thing in the morning doing the Fluffy Slipper Shuffle down the pheromone soaked hallway. A bathrobe parade of half awake...one eye going this way...one eye going that way...hair going everywhere...people. For a cheery morning person like myself, they were like sitting ducks on a pond, easily going down with a straifing barrage of chirpy "GOOD MORNINGs!"
This clock is always counting down to the next Olympics. At that time, the count down was marking off the minutes until the 1994 winter games at Lillehammer, Norway.
The food service staff got kudos from me for the Herculean task of keeping all the athletes in attendance fueled and ready to go. All the food was donated by large American food corporations like Beatrice. This self-serve restuarant, with skyscraper stacks of nutritionally labeled food, opened three times a day to appease the hungry hoards.
The fairy like gymnasts gravitated to the low fat foods. The cyclists, constantly embattled to consume more calories than they burn in training (a feeling I would like to know for just one day), ate Mt. Vesuvius piles of food. Not yet full, the spinners were tempted by a huge, wanton tray of marshamallowy, vanilla goodness waving her scent bomb in their face. They comandeered the tray of crispy treats, took them to their table and it was a menage-a-trois to remember.
Some of the best amateur bowlers in the world at the time.
Life here was good. It was grand...full of dreams, high ideals and the pursuit of perfection. What would it be like if these high vibrations of hope and excellence were the yardstick by which the rest of the world measured itself?