As David Brooks, a columnist at the New York Times, points out, “the United States, a nation of 300 million, won nine gold medals this year in the Winter Olympics. Norway, a nation of 4.7 million, also won nine.”
He also points out that this is par for the course. Despite Canada’s record-breaking gold-medal run this year — and America’s record-breaking total-medal-count this year — Norway is the all-time champ in both categories.
As his column posits, this has nothing to do with sports training, or Own The Podium type targeted funding.
Instead, Brooks writes, it’s a combination of “hard” Norwegian individual grittiness with “soft” Norwegian love and nurturing. He explains it with a jaw-dropping story of survival in World War Two:
Baalsrud was clothed and fed and rowed to another island. He showed up at other houses and was taken in. He began walking across the mountain ranges on that island in the general direction of the mainland, hikes of 24, 13 and 28 hours without break.
A 72-year-old man rowed him the final 10 miles to the mainland, past German positions, and gave him skis. Up in the mountains, he skied through severe winter storms. One night, he started an avalanche. He fell at least 300 feet, smashed his skis and suffered a severe concussion. His body was buried in snow, but his head was sticking out. He lost sense of time and self-possession. He was blind, the snow having scorched the retinas of his eyes.
He wandered aimlessly for four days, plagued by hallucinations. At one point he thought he had found a trail, but he was only following his own footsteps in a small circle.
Finally, he stumbled upon a cottage.
Read the whole column here. It’s worth it.
The book this story comes from is “We Die Alone” by David Howarth, and you can see a preview of it here, on Google Books. I think I might buy it. I respect our Olympians, but it’s a good reminder that: a) these Games have a quasi-military inspiration (Google “modern pentathlon” for example); and b) no matter how much struggle and competition there is over that gold medal — sometimes there’s something more at stake.




