Have you ever had a bad day affect your run? Or perhaps the stress of the day weighs on your mind so much that concentrating on that interval workout is difficult? Well, from now on you have no excuse.
Forget Lindsey Vonn and her bruised shin. The unquestioned toughest athlete of the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver is Joannie Rochette from Canada. Two days after her mother died of a heart attack--she had come to Vancouver to see her daughter skate--Rochette had the performance of her life at the short program. An only child, Joannie and her mother were very close, and Rochette responded by skating to a personal best score that put her in third place after the short program (watch performance here). On Thursday, she skated well enough in the long program to earn a bronze medal (watch here).
Let's think about this for a moment from an athletic perspective. The fact that she can even walk--much less skate in the Olympics and give the best performance of her career--is a testament to her superhuman mental toughness. If you have ever lost a parent or anyone close to you, you know the feeling: that haze that surrounds you those first few days. Normal day-to-day activities can be impossible. The fact that Rochette could push through the haze and skate, not to mention medal, is astounding. Her singular focus is one of the reasons why she is an Olympic athlete in the first place. Rochette talked about that focus in an interview on the Today Show, and I was struck by her comment that to stay focused, she "just tried to be in the bubble, like I was going to war." (This is probably the only time you'll see figure skating compared to war, by the way.)
Her performance also speaks to Rochette's ability to block out all distractions, if that's what we must call her mother's death. How many times have you let a crappy day get in the way of a good run? What amazed me is that there are certainly some days when physically I am not at my best--and that's just for a lousy 45 minute run in the neighborhood. On those days, it's easy to want to pack it in. But her performance also, of course, speaks to the therapeutic benefits of exercise. I am sure that she needed that routine to help her cope.
But we can also learn about writing from Rochette's performance, or actually from NBC's coverage of Rochette's skate. Fortunately, their commentary during her routine on Tuesday was understated. Actually, it was not stated at all: the three commentators said nothing during the whole thing (well, to be honest, Scott Hamilton was probably bawling, so he was unable to talk anyway), and even as she broke down in tears afterward and tried to collect herself, they offered only a few sentences. What could anyone possibly say in a time like this? Nothing, of course. But they didn't need to. What we saw was plenty powerful. Any cliche-ridden sentences would have been overkill.
So what do we learn from NBC's understated commentary? First, we must see NBC's performance as a text. And not just a text, but a persuasive text. To see it as such, all you have to do is ask yourself if, at the end of the performance, you were persuaded to cheer for her, to want her to win. Assuming you don't have a heart of stone, this was probably easy to do. So the televised performance, then, was just a set of facts (legal writers: that would be the facts section of your brief). And those facts spoke for themselves. We needed to adjectives, no adverbs, no ineffective intensifiers telling us that this was the "performance of a lifetime" or that "this was an amazing display of courage." No overt persuasion was needed in order to get us to appreciate the moment.
In writing, especially persuasive writing, brevity is best; restraint wins out every time. Show, don't tell. Of course, it helped that part of NBC's team was Tom Hammond, the understated NBC track and field announcer. Hammond didn't need to tell us that Rochette's performance was gutsy, heartwrenching, and pure grit. We saw it, and telling us these things would have been belaboring the obvious. As Chris Chase said on the Yahoo Sports Blog, "It would have been easy for NBC to go with the cheesily narrated, soft-lit puff piece about the relationship between Rochette and her mother. But producers smartly realized that there was no need to manufacture drama in this tale. It had it all. The producers let the story tell itself, and it succeeded." Though it should be noted that Hamilton could not resist himself after her Thursday performance, saying, "I've never seen such a superhuman amount of courage, determination. What an inspiration." But even this was hardly hyperbolic.
They didn't need to provide the narrative. It was there for us on the ice. I didn't need anyone to tell me that it was emotional or heartwrenching, or that Rochette was tougher than any of us could ever hope to be. NBC showed us, and that was plenty.
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