The Summer of ’96

It’s crazy how time flies.

1996 was thirty years ago. That’s hard to wrap my head around, especially now that my children are around the same age I was back then. Around twelve years old. That impressionable stretch of life where you start really remembering things and coming into your own as a person. You’re having experiences with your friends, forming opinions, developing interests, becoming a person. And summer, in particular, was always the time when that happened the most.

I think as a family, we’ve always had a nostalgia for the summer. The feeling of being outside around the trees, swimming, hanging out with friends, being free of the obligations from school for a little while. Having those holiday barbecues in the sun with close family and friends coming over. Maybe you even get to take a trip somewhere out of town.

One of the places I frequented every summer as a kid was Dayton, Ohio. My grandmother lived there on Dennison Street, stone’s throw from Dunbar High School. My parents would ship us off to spend the summer with her, and it’s crazy to thing how different time was back then. There weren’t as many things to do as a kid then they have now, especially if you were in the house with old folks. She was a hard working woman that lived a modest life. We were fortunate that she had two televisions in the house hold, one in the front room and one in the back room, neither of which had cable. We had maybe eight channels to choose from at the most. I tell my kids that now and they can’t even comprehend how you could function as a kid with that limited amount of entertainment and I always laugh about it.

One of the things that was always on TV during the summer of 1996 was the Olympics. It was in Atlanta that year, so it felt like it was right there in our backyard. They showed coverage around the clock on TV on NBC, and I watched every sport they put on happy to watch something current instead of re runs of Barney and old black and white TV shows like The Addams Family and Gunsmoke. The Olympics had everything: Women’s gymnastics, men’s fencing, basketball, track and field, water polo, cycling, the marathon, the decathlon. Since there were a limited amount of public channels and this was a time for sports on TV, I devoured it all. I was already one of those kids that was into sports, and the Dream Team in 1992 had made an impression on me when I was eight years old, but by twelve, something deeper was happening.

There was a spirit about it that I got caught up in easily. Watching the superstars of tomorrow getting their chance to compete on a worldwide stage. That instant glory of winning a medal after a lifetime of preparation and sacrifice. On top of that, the sense of pride watching it as a citizen, seeing the United States be successful over and over, dominating sports. That was such a cool thing as a kid.

I remember specifically watching the women’s gymnastics team win the gold medal as a team ending in a dramatic finish. They were dealing with injury, pushing through pain, showing perseverance. All of those qualities you want in leaders and champions. People you could be proud of and hope to be one day. I was enamored by that. It stuck in my brain in a way that I don’t think ever left.

That summer is when I truly believe I started visualizing in a real way. I was already an aspiring basketball player, and somewhere in the back of my mind I thought, man, I would love to be in the Olympics one day. But watching those athletes, regardless of the sport, my imagination started taking over ( Plus Dream Team 2 were dominating Basketball). I started putting myself in those positions. Seeing myself on that stage, feeling what it might feel like to compete for my country and be successful. I’d draw pictures of myself on a Wheaties Boxes holding up my Gold Medal with the staring smolder a world champion should have.

I went from being eight years old watching the Dream Team to twelve years old dreaming about being on the team. And that dream didn’t stay a dream. Eventually, I got to play for my country and win a gold medal. I got to have the experiences that my heroes had and I don’t think any of that happens without that summer in Dayton, sitting in my grandmother’s house with eight channels, watching everything the Olympics had to offer.

It started with being a fan. It started with admiration and then it grew into belief. It’s crazy because the belief eventually became real. I’d encourage you to think about that for yourself. What are you a fan of right now? What do you admire? What gives you that feeling where your imagination starts to take over and you can see yourself doing it? Start there. Take in those feelings and there’s nothing wrong with that. Take in all the information you can and visualize yourself in those positions, because you never know where it leads.

Without being a fan first, without believing first, I don’t think I would have been pressed enough to end up where I did. You have to see it before you can chase it. And you have to chase it before you can catch it.