OF BOBSLEDDING AND LIFE
It’s called karma, baby, I hope you enjoy the taste.
That’s closed-circuit to Jean Racine, a formerly significant bobsledder. The queen of American bobsledders. Her royal highness.
Who came in fifth-place the other night.
Who lost going away. Whose Olympic career went down in the flames of her own treachery.
Excuse me, I need to suppress my glee.
Here’s the story: For something like four years, Jean Racine was bobsledding partners with Jen Davidson. Jen was the big girl in the back who pushed and Jean was the little girl in the front who steered.
There were the sweethearts of the sport, the kind who were destined for the Wheaties box. The kind who had endorsement contracts and good looks and, best of all, a bedrock friendship.
Or so we thought.
Because it turns out Jean Racine is not a very good friend.
And it cost her gold.
On the eve of Olympic trials, when the American team would be selected, Jean Racine unexpectedly announced that Jen Davidson was fired. Adios. Out the door.
I guess, somehow, in bobsledding they’ve decided that the one who sits there and steers is the boss while the one who does all the work is the flunky.
But anyway, Jen Davidson was out. Her bobsledding career, years in the making, was dead. On the eve of the Olympics, at the culmination of a life’s dream, she got the boot.
And did I mention that she’s from Utah? That the Olympics would be in front of all her friends and family?
Out she went. Fired by Jean Racine. Fired by Jean Racine who rejected her best friend in favor of a rookie named Gea Johnson. Jean Racine figured Gea Johnson would give her just a little bit better push and give her that much more oomph on the way to a gold medal.
Jean Racine was sure everyone would understand.
Well, no one did.
No one worshipped the gold quite the way she did. Everyone else thought friendship and years of loyalty counted for something. Everyone else thought Jean Racine was a treacherous witch.
Which might be why the cheering was so loud.
Because Gea Johnson pulled a hamstring. No, they weren’t cheering that. Gea Johnson is an innocent in this. It’s not her fault she was hired, and no one could have expected her to turn down a ride in the Olympics. She didn’t double-deal anybody.
But she pulled her leg anyway. In one of the final practice rounds before her event. She pulled a hamstring.
And when it was competition time, and Jean Racine was ready to go, the push didn’t work. Not like it was supposed to.
And then there was the No. 2 American sled. Jill Bakken in front and Vonetta Flowers in the back. A little white girl with a bad back and bad eyes and a big black girl with history in her pocket.
And they won.
In a pure, sweet, red, white and blue style they won. Not as cutthroats, but as hardworking athletes. With honest smiles on their faces. No sponsors, no bucks, just lots of heart. Both of them the kind of person you can believe in and cheer for.
When Vonetta Flowers draped the American flag over her shoulders, you just knew it belonged there. You knew she was worthy. You knew she and her driver deserved the gold.
And the fact that the first black person every to win a gold medal at the winter games wore the uniform of the United States was the icing on the cake.
It was a victory for the good guys.
While Jean Racine skulked off in fifth place.
With this little bit of irony: If she had kept Jen Davidson, she would have won gold.
If she had not backstabbed her best friend. If she had been loyal. If she had done the right thing. She would have finished first.
Because her driving was that good. Her time on the course was so strong that with even an average push at the top of the hill she would have won.
If her partner of four years had been with her, the sweethearts of American bobsledding would have had their storybook ending. And Jean Racine would have had the gold she coveted.
But she lost her life’s dream, because of an unprincipled choice.
And most folks figure she got exactly what she deserved.
It’s called karma, baby, I hope you enjoy the taste.
- by Bob Lonsberry © 2002
