Olympics

I knew an Olympic athlete once. (I reminisce as I watch the closing ceremonies of the 2012 Olympics in London.)

The athlete I knew was Steve Savage, a long-distance runner, who sat right in front of me in Spanish I in high school. He had gotten some sort of sore on the inside of his forearm, and as we sat in class and watched, it developed a red streak that was running up his arm.  We all knew (we thought) that a red streak meant blood poisoning, and you had to stop it before it reached your heart, or you would die. We told the teacher, Mrs. Jones, who took a hard look.  Steve was alarmed enough that after class, he went to the doctor.

Steve ran in the 1972 Olympics in Munich, Germany; but his accomplishments there will be overshadowed forever by the events of that set of games: Eleven Israeli athletes were murdered by radical Palestinians called “Black September.” Further, Steve Prefontaine was running. It was the era of runners—Dave Wottle, Frank Shorter, and the Oregon coach, Bill Bowerman. Still, it was quite an accomplishment from a boy from Florence, Oregon.
Brook adds:  "And he was a Duck!" (University of Oregon)