Colorado Gold

Colorado’s own Missy Franklin is everything we should love about sports
By Doug Ottewill | @dottewill
Last night, I watched – then watched again – Missy Franklin’s gold-medal performance in the 100-meter backstroke final. Like most of the world, I already knew the results. In a modern era where one simply cannot avoid the biggest headlines, Franklin’s accomplishments were old news. Neither my DVR nor NBC’s primetime replay could save me.
But still, I had to watch.
Beyond the race itself, I had to see all the other stuff, too. The NBC vignette on Franklin and her family. The special that every local station had prepared for the five o’clock “If you don’t want to know the results (wink, wink), don’t watch the next 10 minutes” news. The live cutaways to all the kids from Regis High School cheering on their classmate. The post-race medal ceremony. And that oh-so-good Bob Costas commentary.
I soaked it in. I couldn’t get enough. In a word, I was proud – proud to be a Coloradoan, an American, a fan.
Unlike most of the stories that generate buzz in modern sports, Franklin’s arrived with zero debate. There weren’t two sides to the argument. There was nothing to do but simply cheer. Everyone was on the same team.
I watched it all again, trying desperately to determine what I could possibly write in today’s column. What can one say about Missy Franklin? I mean, what hasn’t been said?
After watching a healthy dose of the Games in London, one thing is for certain – no stone has gone unturned. Clearly, and rightfully, Franklin is the darling of the 2012 Summer Olympics. The cameras have fallen in love with the 17-year-old kid from Colorado; reporters from around the globe tell and retell stories of Franklin that just don’t miss; Twitter is still blowing up.
Still, though, I had to write. No Colorado sports columnist worth his weight in fool’s gold could “not” write about Franklin today. Peyton Manning and Tim Tebow may fill the airwaves with the same old static for months on end, but next to John Elway hoisting the Lombardi Trophy for the first time, this might very well be the greatest story in Colorado sports history.
At 23 years of age, our own Amy Van Dyken earned four gold medals in the ’96 Games – something that had never been done by an American female swimmer – but Franklin captured her first gold six years sooner in life. In the words of Lennon and McCartney, she was just 17. The Regis High School senior-to-be has five more races to go this year – and who knows how many more Olympic Games are in her future?
But it’s neither the potential for Olympic records nor the fancy rhetoric offered by Costas (or countless others) that make this story so special. For me, it’s the purity of it all. This is sport boiled down to its most beautiful form. Strip away all the glitz and glam, the cameras and the two-minute made-for-TV features, and you’ve got sport in all its glory.
It’s a world-class athlete doing what she does best on the biggest stage imaginable. But aside from coming through in the clutch, Franklin overcame an unprecedented obstacle. No Olympic swimmer had ever been asked to qualify for one event, then 14 minutes later, win gold in another. The quickest turnaround endured by Michael Phelps, the greatest Olympic swimmer ever, was 30 minutes. Reports said that Franklin’s typical cool down routine after the 200-meter freestyle is 1,200 meters – last night she was only able to go 375. Yet, she still stole away with gold.
I love the fact that Franklin is still an amateur. I love that she chose to forgo the almighty buck for the chance to win state with her teammates at Regis High School. Wise beyond her years, Franklin realized that there are certain experiences in our lives that cannot be purchased or replaced with money – high school athletics are one such example.
I love that her parents – D.A. and Dick – ultimately let their daughter determine her own path to Olympic glory. They could’ve made a buck or two along the way, too, but they opted not to push their daughter into making that decision. Franklin had talent from the time she was little, and yes, D.A. and Dick helped to cultivate it, but they also resisted the temptation to go overboard. They could have picked up and moved to California where swimming is an obsession and the world’s best coaches reside; they could have pulled Missy out of school to ensure she’d become a champion. But they resisted all of it, insisting that her formative years be as normal as possible.
Chris Anthony, a star skier and world-class athlete in his own right, met Franklin at an awards banquet this past winter. Yesterday, after hearing that Franklin had won gold, he told me the story of his first encounter with Franklin.
“I happened to be sitting by her before the ceremony and I’d never met her,” he said. “I introduced myself and asked what she did. ‘I swim,’ she told me, never once eluding to the fact that she was one of the greatest swimmers on the planet.”
And that’s just her. After winning the last race yesterday, she told reporters she can’t wait to get back to Regis High School for her senior year. She dedicated her first gold medal to the victims of the Aurora shootings. She begged her parents to stay a few more days in London just so she could be a part of the closing ceremonies.
What’s not to love about this story? There’s no debate. There aren’t even two sides. The story of Missy Franklin is pure gold – and that’s indisputable.
And best of all, she’s ours, Colorado.

Location:London