A few years ago, I was offered a rare opportunity: the chance to be the Aquatics Stadium Announcer for the World Special Olympic Games in North Carolina.  Remarkable special athletes from around the world gathered in our area for a week and a half of competition.

I remember the hard work involved with getting ready.  I trained at a few aquatics meets, since I wasn't all that familiar with swim meet procedures.  Then there was getting settled at our venue, learning the Special Olympics procedures, and learning how to pronounce difficult names from around the world.  (I was determined not to mess this up for the athletes.)

The 10 days passed in a blur of long hours, little sleep, and constant work.  Since announcers couldn't take rest breaks throughout the day, my partner and I were there at dawn, and often didn't leave until the wee hours of the morning.  The pool, with no air conditioning and high humidity, often reached 110 degrees or more in the North Carolina summer heat.  The stands were usually jammed with people, and that made it still hotter.  We ate cold sandwiches for most meals, while we were working.  But that's not what I remember the most.

I remember the athletes.  I remember them very well.  The athletes who were trying hard despite mental and, in some cases, physical challenges.  The joy of having done their best.  The excited boy from Russia who posed for a picture with the announcers.  The smiles from the Taiwan team who had discovered M & M's candies for the first time.  The girl from Canada who was so excited about finishing her race that she ran around the pool area, giving the announcers and officials the high five.  The girl from Mexico who put out so much effort in a distance race that she had no strength left to get out of the pool, and had to be carried out.  The 10-year-old who gave me a big hug after I presented him with a medal, and wouldn't let go.  The athletes who packed the stands when the volunteers raced against the coaches and the officials -- and how they cheered when the officials got disqualified!

And I remember the parents.  Proud of their sons and daughters.  The parents from Texas who chatted with my wife and me as we stopped to get a late supper at a diner.  The parents from Australia who would chant, "Aussie, Aussie Aussie, oy, oy, oy!" whenever one of their athletes was in a race, or won a medal.  The parents who joined the announcers and officials in the "Chicken Dance" during delays in the competition.  The parents who would cheer loudly for the winner -- and just as loudly for the athlete who finished last.  In fact, no athlete finished a race without applause from the crowd.

The name is a good one.  These Olympic games were special, and I will never forget them.  I don't know who got more out of it -- the athletes, the parents, or me.

And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

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