Why the Olympics Are a Lot Like ‘The Hunger Games’

[villager]

By
Samantha Retrosi


As a former Olympic athlete, I can tell you from experience that the Olympic Games have much more in common with The Hunger Games than anyone would want to admit.

I connect with the inhumanity of The Hunger Games because I’ve been there, as a luge competitor at the 2006 Winter Olympics in Turin, Italy. No, I didn’t get sucked into the depths of an artificial lake, like the character played by Jennifer Lawrence. But I did get sucked into the rafters of an artificially manufactured tube of glare ice, only to come crashing down in the second run of my Olympic moment.

<snip>

The real function of the Olympic athlete in the world of corporatized sports is clear to me now.

Amateur status is mandatory for any Olympic hopeful, but athletic training at the elite level is a full-time job. Most nations get around the problem by giving their Olympic athletes significant government support, but our best athletes are almost entirely dependent on corporate sponsorship. For the athletes, the consequences of this addiction can be disastrous.

The socialization of my allegiance to Verizon began the moment I was selected—as an 11-year-old—for the US development team. The culture within the US Luge Association viewed brand loyalty as integral to the survival of the organization. All of my clothing was plastered with the Verizon logo. I was not allowed near any camera without giving a visual and verbal statement of thanks to Verizon for making all of my dreams come true. I went through intensive media training each year to reinforce this allegiance—to learn how to be a better spokesperson for Verizon. During my Olympic year, I signed away my rights to use media time for just about anything other than gratitude to sponsors. It was a condition for entrance into the Olympic Village.

In the wake of the 2008 recession, Verizon found itself on rocky terrain, so it began breaking many of its sponsorship contracts with amateur sports organizations. One of those was with the US Luge Association, to which it gave millions of dollars a year. USA Luge, which spent decades cultivating this relationship at the expense of all other sources of funding, has been unable to replace Verizon. Today’s luge athletes have had to look elsewhere for support, with many having little choice but to join the US Army World Class Athlete Program (not surprising, given the similarity in value systems: both the armed forces and elite-level sports cultivate extreme discipline, patriotism and victory at all costs). Apparently, one must be willing to enlist—and possibly fight and die for one’s country—in order to cover the expenses of international competition. Many of those who haven’t gone this route hold down outside jobs in addition to full-time training schedules.

<snip>

http://www.thenation.com/article/178048/why-olympics-are-lot-hunger-games

[ZombieHorde]

1. Am I the only one

who found this article a bit dramatic for a game? It's not even about a cool game like D&D.

[Bluenorthwest]

2. The article is not about a game, it's about the process of crafting a culture out of corporate

loyalty. Few words about her actual sport, all of it is about the 'athletes' as marketing and public relations devices. As such, it is not too dramatic.

[villager]

3. My take on it as well...

Which was why I thought it worth posting here...

Thanks!

[ZombieHorde]

4. The corporate problems in the article surround game playing.

The players can just play the game with different people or a different venue. It's not like Hunger Games, where corporate sponsorship could easily mean literal life or death.

I play games, but I don't involve sponsors, and I'm just fine. The vast majority of humans play games without sponsors and do just fine. Comparing it to Hunger Games is pretty hyperbolic, in my opinion.