SAN JUAN, Puerto Rico “”mdash;Projected onto a wall in a public
square, the images I sat there watching made me really not know
what to think.
The U.S. men’s basketball team, a dream team, if you like
nightmares, was taking on vaunted Puerto Rico, its first test at
the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens, Greece.
After every made three-pointer, the gathered crowd would hurl
peanuts in the air. A lot of peanuts.
After every missed shot, a collection of arms would thrust
upward. More peanuts would fall.
The throng met every referee’s whistle with a unified
response.Â
By the end of the game, when the scoreboard confirmed a 92-73
Puerto Rico rout of Team USA, nearly everyone embraced one another,
with many shedding tears.
Tears of happiness.
I was in Puerto Rico witnessing the monumental defeat, and while
the game itself only provided marginal perspective as to why the
U.S. basketball team was struggling, the reaction from the people
watching seemed to hold the real answer to Team USA’s
woes.
For the Puerto Ricans present, this was much more than a simple
basketball game.
This was life.
And it was refreshing to see. Â
When the Puerto Rican national team went on a run, the people
watching went with them. Just check the bar tabs at halftime, when
Puerto Rico led by 22. Â
When the Americans inched closer, the nervous tension mounted.
Everyone went back to nibbling on peanuts.Â
There may have only been five Puerto Rican players on the
basketball court that day, but they were not alone in spirit and in
cause.
The problem with the members of Team USA is that they are alone
in both.
Consider the situation Tim Duncan, Allen Iverson, Shawn Marion
and the rest of the players on the American team are in.Â
When they lose, they’re lambasted. Team USA, comprised of
millionaires and the greatest talent ever assembled should never
smell defeat.
When they win, they’re criticized for not winning by more.
Seven points? Come on, that’s not really winning now is
it.Â
It’s the mindset that makes this country both great and
flawed. We expect greatness all the time, and when it’s not
achieved, someone needs to be fired.
While everyone is proffering an opinion as to the American
team’s apparent failures, fact is, there’s nothing
wrong with Team USA whatsoever.
The problem is with us.
When Puerto Ricans watch, they throw peanuts. When Americans
watch men’s hoops, they hurl insults.
“I’m rooting for Puerto Rico,” said a woman
wearing a bandana emblazoned with the Puerto Rican flag. “And
I’m from North Carolina.”
And I’m sure she’s not the only one rooting against
her own country.
Along with our negative support, we rarely give credit where
it’s due, in this case across the globe.
Instead of lamenting Team USA’s struggles, and yes there
are many, we should be recognizing how far teams like Puerto Rico
and Lithuania have come, for it wasn’t that long ago that
they were thoroughly embarrassed by the American team.
Back in 1992, with the inception of the original Dream Team,
most of the U.S.’s opponents were defeated before the ball
had been thrown up for the opening tip. Most of the foreign players
didn’t know whether to defend Michael Jordan or ask for his
autograph.
But that was 12 years ago, and it changed things
drastically. Â
Now that the world has had a decade to catch up, did we really
expect foreign teams to enjoy getting beat by 70 points forever?
Were they never supposed to be competitive, trembling in the
shadows of the big, bad Americans for eternity?
So don’t listen to NBA analysts who have the answer as to
why Team USA stinks.
It’s not about the practice time, or the style of game, or
the mesh of personalities.
Team USA hasn’t gotten worse. The world has gotten better,
much better.
And until the United States lets its prideful guard down and
admits to such, the only thing Team USA will be able to cling to is
the memory of its past success.
And not a gold medal.Â
E-mail Seth at sglass@media.ucla.edu.