When looking for a venue that is inspirational, it’s hard to beat the Olympics. For me, it is mesmerizing to watch these young athletes compete and to hear their stories. The dedication, discipline, perseverance, indomitable spirit, courage, and respect shown by the competitors is truly something to behold.
When I think about what each has put themselves through to get to a position of making their Olympic team it is difficult to comprehend that kind of commitment from some as young as sixteen years old. Consider the training regimen that they have to engage in. For years most have forsaken much of what would be considered a normal life to focus their time and body in pursuit of the opportunity to compete on the world stage not just for their individual glory, but also for the glory of their team and country. Truly the Olympics remain the most compelling search for all around excellence that exists in sport, and maybe in life itself.
Throughout the ages, there have been countless astonishing tales that have come out of the Olympics, replete with inspiration, but I think one of the most remarkable and memorable occurred at the 1988 Seoul games. It involved a Canadian named Larry Lemieux who competed in one of the sailing events. He was awarded a medal for his effort but it wasn’t a gold, silver, or bronze one. Rather, Lemieux was recognized with an even-rarer award and achieved a different kind of glory. In order to gain that glory, he had to forsake what undoubtedly would have been a medal winning athletic performance in favor of much more important and higher glory, thereby teaching us all that winning isn’t always the highest goal.
Here is his story:
Lemieux was competing in the medal round of the Finn-class sailing competition. He had overcome tough 35-knot winds and was in a secure position to claim at least a silver medal when he noticed a capsized boat on the adjacent 470-class course. He also saw that the two crewmen, Singapore sailors Shaw Her Siew and Joseph Chan were truly in dire straits. Siew was desperately clinging to the centerboard, while Chan was being swept further and further away by the high waves. Without a second thought Lemieux abandoned his race and turned his boat toward the sailors in an unselfish attempt to give them aid, thereby nullifying his shot at a traditional Olympic medal. He could have carried on and seized his medal dream. After all, he had sacrificed and focused on that singular goal for years. It was now within his grasp. But, as he later told The Edmonton Journal, his instincts instructed him to abandon his dream and to go to the other sailor’s aid.
“The first rule of sailing is, you see someone in trouble, you help him.” Lemieux said, “My thought process was: do they really need help because a lot of times you are able to save yourself. But [after he had signaled them to inquire as to whether they needed assistance] I couldn’t understand if they were saying yes or no. I just had to go. If I went to them and they didn’t need help, c’est la vie. If I didn’t go, it would be something you would regret for the rest of your life. But I wasn’t thinking that at the time. It’s only now, in retrospect, you think that way. At the time, you just go.”
Even after making the decision to go, rescuing the sailors in distress was no easy task. There were four-meter (12 foot) waves crashing all around Lemieux’s small one-person sailboat, and the current was going against the wind, making the task of getting to the capsized boat even more difficult. Lemieux had to sail downwind to reach Chan’s position, and ended up taking on a lot of water himself in the process. Using all his sailing skills, he managed to keep his own boat from capsizing, and he was able to pluck Chan from the raging sea before heading back to help Siew. Following that, he managed to hold his small craft steady against the wind until a Korean Navy ship arrived to pick up the stranded sailors. Only after they were safely aboard did Lemieux return to his race. He finished 21st out of a field of 32. As he told the Journal, he has no regrets, though, especially considering the danger Chan was in.
“He would have been lost at sea. Because the waves were so high you couldn’t see the big, orange course markers when you were between troughs. So looking for someone’s head would have been like looking for a needle in a haystack…I could have won gold. But, in the same circumstances, I would do what I did again.”
Lemieux may not have earned gold, but he was recognized at the sailing medal ceremony. International Olympic Committee president Juan Antonio Saramanch gave him the Pierre de Coubertin Medal, named in honor of the IOC founder and father of the modern Olympics. That award, given to athletes who demonstrate the true spirit of sportsmanship, has only been handed out 10 times during the era of the modern Olympics. If Lemieux had continued on without stopping to help, he most likely would have picked up a place on the medal stand, possibly gold, but his decision to abandon his quest for personal sporting glory to aid his fellow competitors made him a far bigger legend, and it made him an Olympic hero.
“True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.” – Arthur Ashe
Have an AWE-full weekend!
Bill