Ready for the Olympic raffle? Former stars polish their medals
Ah, the eternal cycle of Olympic life. First you break your body for glory, then you retire and, finally, you become an elegant luxury mannequin for ticket sales campaigns. That’s right, friends. This Tuesday, under the peristyle of the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum – that place that smells of history, hot dogs and broken dreams – what seemed like a convention of retired sports superheroes met.
There they were. Nadia Comaneci, the woman who achieved the first perfect 10 and made us believe that perfection was possible (spoiler: it is not). Apolo Ohno, the guy who skated so fast he seemed to defy the laws of physics and now probably defies LA traffic laws. Bart Conner and Cullen Jones, completing a picture as diverse as the Olympic disciplines themselves. In total, more than 300 souls who once sweated for a medal now posed smiling under a “clear blue winter sky.” Because of course, even the weather cooperates when it comes to marketing. Will it be part of the Premium package?
The reason for this emotional (and photogenic) reunion was, of course, to announce that you can now register your email to have the opportunity to have the opportunity to buy tickets. Yes, you read that right. It’s not buying. It’s signing up for a giveaway that will give you a time to, maybe, in April, try to buy something. It sounds less complicated to decipher the artistic gymnastics scoring code.
“Los Angeles is committed to delivering athlete-centered games,” said Janet Evans, the committee’s athlete director and a champion swimmer who probably misses the pools more than these press conferences.
Of course. Focused on athletes. That’s why they bring them all together… for a photo session prior to the launch of the web portal! Nothing says “we value you” like becoming the decorative background of an advertising banner. Although their effort must be recognized: they managed to bring together representatives from 28 different Olympic editions, since 1960. That is almost as many editions as there have been changes in the uniform designs (and in some cases, with the same dubious taste).
The most sincere – and therefore strange – moment was starred by Apolo Ohno:
“I walked in and literally saw about 50 of my friends that I grew up with… I haven’t seen some of these people in ten years or more.”
How nice. A reunion forced by contractual obligations. The true Olympic magic is not in the cauldron, but in those awkward hugs between former teammates whom you only greet on LinkedIn.
Bart Conner, always practical, dropped the informative pearl: most of the facilities are already built. What a revelation. In Los Angeles they already have stadiums; in Oklahoma City they will have… softball and canoeing. A combination as natural as sushi with ketchup. But hey, at least that allows – according to him – “to focus on the competitors.” That is, to do more photo sessions with them.
While the former athletes gave statements about their “voice” being heard (in meetings about logo colors or tartan texture?), Nadia Comaneci twirled elegantly for the photographers. The same one that revolutionized Montreal ’76 now revolutionizes the art of professional posing. She and Conner will soon celebrate their 30 years of marriage. Thirty years together… almost as long as we have been waiting for Olympic Games organized with common sense.
The great draw of the century (or how to get your ticket)
Here is the useful information among so much irony: if you want to suffer the thrill of trying to pay to watch sports in six years, you must register starting today, Wednesday, at Tickets.LA28.org. It’s free… to register. You’ll then be assigned a random time (more randomness! Just what we love) to access future sales.
They will later sell individual tickets, “hospitality” packages (probably including a recorded greeting from a former athlete), and travel and accommodation packages. Because nothing complements an event about human improvement like an all-inclusive in a hotel with a spa.
In short: an unrepeatable group of legends came together not to compete, but to remind us that the Olympic spirit is also measured in clicks and databases. The message is clear: athletes are the heart… of the marketing plan. Absurd? Maybe. Cash? We will undoubtedly see millions rush to register.
After all, who can resist being part – even as a potential spectator – of the largest (and most expensive) circus in the world?
—
Were you tempted by the possibility? Share this sarcastic gem with that friend who still believes that Olympic mascots are adorable and not merchandising products. And if you want more analysis where we dismantle grandiose events with acid humor… you know where to keep reading.
