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Sporting News, The, August 30, 2004 by Dave Kindred

The public prints reported on gymnast Paul Hamm's freckles and red hair and Midwestern reserve. They reported that he fell on his butt, ingloriously, and rose to win an Olympic gold medal, gloriously. What they didn't report was how he did what he did in the last of the all-around's six disciplines, the high bar. But that was not a failure of journalism.

The fact is, whatever Paul Hamm did on that high bar, this must be said:

IT. CAN. NOT. BE. DONE!!

Sorry to shout in your ear.

Especially with two exclamation points.

But, really.

Michael Jordan at his best, Barry Sanders at his best, David Beckham, Wayne Gretzky, Pele--you name the greatest athlete you ever saw--Muhammad Ali none could do with his body what Paul Hamm did.

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Because IT CAN'T BE DONE!!!

Put me with an expert, I could patch together a high-sounding narrative of what Paul Harem did in his high bar routine. For instance, The New York Times rhapsodized about Hamm's "three straight blind release moves." I saw those moves and I am here to tell you, WHAT HE DID CAN NOT BE DONE!!!!

Man can not fly. He has no wings. He can not fly.

I know that. You know it. We all know it.

But there he was. Paul Hamm. Wisconsin. Freckles. Flying.

Those blind-release moves were flights of imagination, daring, courage and athletic ability so far beyond understanding that anyone in their presence likely stopped breathing lest breathing become a distraction.

Here is a breathless layman's memory of the blind-release move ...

Hamm has both hands on the bar, 9 feet high. Hanging. Swinging. Building momentum. Giant-swinging now at maximum speed, he comes under the bar and starts up. Now he lets go. A critical point, because if he lets go a millisecond too soon or too late, his body rockets out of the building, either through a window or the roof, and is discovered in pieces downtown.

Releasing at the proper millisecond, Hamm flies back over the bar. Gravity kicks in, and now he falls toward the bar at speed guaranteed to mess him up real bad if he doesn't catch the bar that is somewhere under him. Until his body flings backwards over the bar, he can't see it; that's the "blind" part.

Now his hands slam/catch against the bar, defeating gravity. Hanging on again, momentum now crazy, Hamm does the same giant swing and release two more times in such swift succession that at least one American, sitting at home, shouts, "That can NOT be done!!!!!"

Well, maybe by Spider-Man.

A 5-6, 140-pound kid from Wisconsin, no way.

But there he was. And having done the three moves, Hamm had to get down from the high bar.

Here, I should quote from a gymnastics website: "Look also for the big dismount. Twisting double backs, double backs in the layout position, and even triple backs are considered top-flight dismounts. If the gymnast sticks one of these, the score will reflect it."

What "twisting double backs" are, I have no idea. And how Paul Hamm came down from the sky, I have no idea other than he let go of the bar at a ridiculous speed, flew straight up, started spinning, maybe went upside-down and landed, ker-BOOM, on his feet with not so much as a wobble, not a half-step for balance, just done beautifully, arms raised high, as if he were an angel, wings spread in wonder.

Fabulous. And that's only the half of it.

The rest is, Hamm did it when he most needed to do it.

He did it after he botched the landing in the vault competition, after the fall that could haunt his dreams forever, after he threw away the gold medal he figured to win, after he sat against a wall, alone in a crowd, despondent, yet showing no anger, just there with his thoughts, empty, tears welling up.

He had two more rounds of competition. To move from 12th place into medal contention--forget gold--he needed to do those routines near perfectly.

First came the pommel horse. Did it. Moved to fourth place.

Now, if he aced the high bar, he might earn a bronze medal. He was the last athlete to compete in any discipline. The stage was his, again alone in a crowd. As it happened, his rivals faltered just enough--there was no hint yet of any scoring controversy--and Hamm suddenly had a chance to win the gold. Of the 10 points available, he needed 9.825.

And then, on the high bar, he did it.

His score in Athens, a 9.837.

At my house, a 12.

Our little games have value only when they're about more than money and celebrity. The Rev. Timothy S. Healy, then president of Georgetown University, once wrote, "Games are beautiful in their complexity, their rhythm, as well as in the beauty of their players. The ancient Greeks knew that it was a good thing for all of us to watch beauty, above all when that beauty involved movement, suddenness and improvisation. Watching anyone do anything well enlarges the soul."

In that case, our souls went to XL when Patti Hamm did that thing that can not be done.

DAVE KINDRED

dkindred@sportingnews.com

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Sporting News, The, August 30, 2004 by Dave Kindred

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