We all love to watch good sportsmanship, don’t we?  It separates true champions from the sour ones.  To see a good sport in action just does something inside us.  Perhaps warming the heart, it inspires us to something above the sport itself.  Good sportsmanship shows character and sophistication, as it requires the maturity of a class-act to pull it off in the spotlight of center stage.  Everyone is watching.  Cheers are shouting loud and strong.  The triumph of victory.  The agony of defeat.  In the cumulation of years in training, few seem to remember anything but the goal at hand.  The prize.  The medal.  The number-one spot.  What wouldn’t we give to get there?  

Many this winter have been glued to our televisions, as the winter Olympics have been host to some truly epic contests.  Nations have competed with heart and grit; emotions have played out on a world-wide arena for all to see how much it takes to show up at this level.  The training is over.  The preparation is past.  Now, the stage is set and the lights are shining bright.

And that is what caught my attention.

I watched it with awe: I could not imagine how hard his heart was pumping.  The rush of adrenaline must have swept him over strong.  The cheering.  The sight of the finish line.  The ultimate achievement for a cross-country skier.  A joy unparalleled bursting inside him.  A collapse in the snow.  

The thoughts rushed through my head:  How hard did he train for this?  Really?  To completely blow the competition away?  How long would it take to condition your heart, body, legs, and lungs to withstand such rigor?  

And yet, he didn’t fully enjoy the moment just yet . . . there was more for him to do.

Over 17 long minutes ticked by waiting; a proud and patient champion had more than just himself in mind.  Finland’s Iivo Niskanen stayed right where he was to support and congratulate the field.  He stayed at the line.  Instead of running off in victor’s celebration, an athlete of superior class encouraged others who had fought the fight along with him.  

Almost 18 minutes later, a last-place finisher crossed the line and joined the Olympic champion.  Yes, Carlos Andres Quintana of Colombia closed out the field and finished last.  But you would never know it. The shouts of the crowd would never tell that story.  Instead, happy and inspired spectators cheered the two as they came together and celebrated the moment as true sportsmen should.

Remarkable!

1 Thessalonians 5:14-15 says it clearly: And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone.

Encourage the fainthearted.

Isn’t what what Iivo Niskanen just did?  

In a world that tells us to take your victory and run with it, Niskanen stopped to encourage others.  Why did he do it?  Cydney Henderson from USA Today quoted him beautifully:

"Everyone has done lots of work to be here and it means a lot to take him across the finish line. You need that kind of respect in these Olympic Games. Smaller countries don't have as much budget as the best nations." He is also quoted as saying: "You need to respect each other as an athlete." (Henderson, Cydney. Finnish Cross-Country Skier Wins Gold, Watches Rest of Race and Waits to Embrace Last-Place Finisher).

Wow.  Says a lot when we respect each other, no?

And it would be easy to only view things from Niskanen’s viewpoint.  That is the one we typically choose to look through, right?  But today, I want to slow down and take a deeper look.  

What if we took the time to see the world through last place as well?

It’s rare to have a last-place finisher quoted in the press.  Oddly enough, I was able to find just that.  I want to examine what he was cited as saying, too, as it tells a story as well.

After the cheers and the congratulation scene was over, Quintanna went on to tell the press how he wasn’t feeling right.  According to Warren Barnsley of 7 news.com, Quintanna seemed rather bleak about his condition.  “It’s a consolation prize because I didn’t feel comfortable at all. From the start I didn’t feel well physically.  I don’t know what happened, but physically I didn’t feel like it today.” (Barnsley, Warren. Olympic Champion Iivo Niskanen Waits to Congratulate Last-Placed Skier in Show of Respect).

And now to bring things home.

In the race of life, we are all competing. Not against each other, but against the strife and struggle of life: the monkey wrenches and curves that try to derail us. We strive daily to make it. We press on and forge ahead. Some are doing well. They are out in front leading the race. Some are lagging behind.

This cross-country race has brought me to a point of examination. What areas of my life did I once struggle in of which I am now skiing better? Finland's Iivo Niskanen wasn't born from the womb a gold medalist, was he? He had to work at it and train. It took time and hard effort to get where he is.

Have I done the same? Have you?

I lost a wife in her twenties. That was, and still is hard. But as I look around, I'm skiing better now. At least better than before. We are all racing, right? So in what ways can I turn around and reach out to those who are struggling to keep up? Those who are back in the pack consumed in loss and grief? Hopefully this blog and my books are a help to those of you.

I also had a horrible accident in 2018 which left me with a traumatic brain injury. I took a long time to sort out how to live successfully with that disability. I'm skiing better now, so to speak. But how can I reach back to those struggling and do what 1 Thessalonians 5:14-15 charges us to do?

Encourage the fainthearted.

How can I? How can you?

If nothing else from Beijing’s Winter Olympics 2022, take this true class-act of Olympic sportsmanship home with you.  Be inspired.  Inspire someone else.  A gold medal is not the only thing worth reaching for.

Be that good sport athlete in the race of life. That's where the real gold is.

It may have changed Quintanna's world.

You never know who's world you could possibly change.

By Chuck Carr

Photo credit by Chuck Carr due to a highly competitive Olympic property and rights market, copyright infringement policies, outrageous purchasing prices of Olympic athlete photography, and also just the creative urge to draw.