Where Were You When: Michael Phelps

I was at a dinner with some friends and strangers on the upper west side. I kept my eye on the clock, feeling no qualms about jumping up mid-sentence when the race was about to come on. My friend asked the bartenders if they would turn the volume on the TV up for us when the time came.

I knew that at 10:10 he would be on. I swear I had my eye on the TV the whole time from across the room. At what I swore was 10:09, I saw NBC had finally switched over to swimming and I yelled, "NOW!" and a group of us bolted to the other side of the room.

When we got there, it seemed like we were watching the whole thing in instant replay. Literally. It was so slow. "When are they going to start?" I asked. "Why are they showing another race?"
Then we realized, they weren't. Somewhere in the span of time it apparently takes to blink, I had missed the race! How could that be? How fast do these swimmers go??

Weirdly, I blamed it all on NBC. I was absolutely convinced for the rest of the night that NBC had erred, and had only begun airing the race halfway through it.

My male friend, who is as obsessed with Phelps as I am, (his "boy crush", he calls him), started getting texts from people asking if he had seen the race. I said, "Ask them if they are as pissed at NBC as I am. What kind of network are they? Don't they know the entire USA is watching now! How could they do this to us??"

I really don't know how I managed to keep this train of thought going. I don't think it was until much later that night, when I talked to my sister about the race, that I realized NBC had shown the whole thing. I was just late to the game.

I'm not a usual sports fan. I don't really understand innings, or meters, or bases loaded. Being this psyched about watching someone take a world record in the name of athleticism is new to me. The whole week I felt like walking around asking people, "Have you heard of this swimmer? Do you know how important this race is?? Are you getting this???"

I had no idea that other people in the world were as obsessed with this as I was. I had no idea who Michael Phelps was until I started googling him last week, only to find out he's already been in an Annie Liebowitz commercial (I had told someone that this would surely happen for him one day), only to find out he's already making millions in endorsements (I had told someone that he would certainly get an endorsement soon), only to find out he's already been on the covers of magazines and leads the top of many BEST ATHLETES IN THE WORLD lists.

I had no idea that the LIFE OF BEING A SPORTS FAN was this exciting!

The next day, Saturday, it felt like I had planned my whole day around this last race. I was counting down the hours. By 10PM, I was in front of that television, eyes glued forward. NO WAY was I going to miss this one.

The race started. I was alone in my apartment, in my pajamas, dusty from a day of cleaning and reorganizing my home. I didn't really know that the entire nation was also at the edge of their seat, crowds in the thousands, hundreds in the bars. I was just a girl, alone with her new found Fan status, totally and completely excited to see history making.

The moment Phelps took to the water, it was like watching magic. The glistening way he soared across the water, chopping through the liquid like a man with axes for hands. His body leaping over the T-mark like a fish hunting his prey. He pulled us back into first and that's when I jumped up.

The fourth guy jumped in, and now I was screaming, cheering for him like he was my best friend and he needed to hear my support. "GOOO! GOO!" I was shouting at the television. Anticipation tore threw me and I begged for victory!


AND HE DID IT!


The excitement from that moment buzzed through me and the energy from that accomplishment felt like it was ripping through the nation faster than our Internet connections.

The whole US of A wanted this, and we got it.