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Silent Plea
He came to Atlanta as an alternate middle-distance runner from war-ravaged Rwanda. He did not expect to make a splash, and sure enough, he didn't even get to compete. But Gabriel Mazimpaka, 21, will take home something far more important than a medal. An ear exam that Mazimpaka underwent on July 17 in the Olympic Village as part of Miracle Ear's free testing program revealed that his eardrums are extensively damaged. Only then did teammates and coaches understand why the shy but friendly Mazimpaka seemed to ignore them so often. When told the results of his exam, Mazimpaka revealed that two years ago, during a period of genocide in Rwanda, he was captured by militia who filled his ears with diesel fuel. They slapped his ears with open hands and boards until he lost consciousness. Though his hearing loss was extensive, Mazimpaka never realized the severity of the damage. Miracle Ear found a surgeon who agreed to operate on Mazimpaka's ears free of charge after the Games. But on Wednesday, Mazimpaka learned that his younger sister is gravely ill. As head of the family, he must return home. When he departs on Sunday, he will take with him the documentation from his test in hopes of getting the needed operation in Africa. He can't afford to return to the States for the surgery; Mazimpaka makes about $70 per month as a soldier. "The important thing for him was to know that someone was willing to help him," says coach Parfait-Dieudonne Neukanyagwe. "He was very touched." The coach also notes that Mazimpaka's name is roughly translated as "good solution." He needs one now. While Atlanta has been a hotbed of activity for the criminal justice system—from the bombing investigation to the arrest of Julie Pound, wife of IOC vice president Dick Pound, for using abusive language and battery (she allegedly kneed a policewoman in the groin)—you can hardly get arrested 68 miles up the road in Athens, site of soccer and rhythmic gymnastics. Anticipating rowdy spectators and a possible crime spree, the city postponed courtroom trials until after the Games. Alas, through Wednesday there had been only one Olympics-related arrest: A man was busted for public inebriation at a woman's soccer doubleheader. In fact, the Athens courthouse may be the quietest spot in Georgia right now. "I wouldn't mind having the Olympics for a couple more weeks," clerk Beverly Logan told the Athens Daily News/Banner-Herald, "because we're able to catch up on paperwork."
Kenny Monday As U.S. freestyle wrestler Kenny Monday pursues the gold today at 163 pounds, he can only hope that things are still percolating back home in Tulsa, where he owns a gourmet coffee shop as well as a Subway sandwich franchise. "Kenny knows his real work is here," says his wife, Sabrina. There's something else Monday (above, on top) knows: If he wins he'll face questions about Dave Schultz, who would have vied with Monday for the 163 berth on the U.S. team had he not been gunned down in January. "Dave was a legend, and I don't want to be compared to him," says Monday, too modest to mention that he beat Schultz the last seven times they met. Nor does he dwell on the medals he already has, a gold from '88 and a silver from '92. Clearly, this guy has been around for more than a cup of coffee.
Part of the Olympic experience is discovering the strange customs of foreign peoples, like the American custom of wearing racing gear to watch cycling. This category of cross-dressing (if you will) has long been an M.O. of tennis fans. But donning a Lycra shirt, unlawfully snug Spandex shorts, clip-in bike shoes and a plastic helmet takes us into a different arena. We see no reason, though, why the concept shouldn't spread to other Olympic venues. Swimming fans could show up in revealing Speedos. Going to watch Moceanu? Honey, seen my leotard? If you're into fencing, you'll need a ticket, a foil and a mask. With some upgrade in security, archery fans could arrive with quivers on their backs. And the watchdogs at boxing would breathe easier if all the folks wore padded gloves, headgear and protective cups. Sorry, no loaded weapons at shooting. But leather vests, leather pants, leather gloves and those small-heeled leather boots are perfectly acceptable. Maybe even encouraged.
A hot dog vendor near Centennial Park is hawking his wares under a banner that reads: clearance sale.
Marc Davis A spirit so free he seems to risk coming unmoored, U.S. steeplechaser Marc Davis mixes surfer-dude cool with Mad Max heat. Davis has eight tattoos, three body piercings—and one major attitude. He incensed the track faithful recently by saying the late Steve Prefontaine's times weren't so great. For a guy who runs for Nike, the House that Pre Built, that's heresy. "I don't care what color hair he has or how many tattoos," allows his coach, Alberto Salazar, "as long as he stays focused." Davis won his semifinal, waving as he cleared the final jump. To win a medal tonight, he may have to beat his best of 8:14.26, but Salazar believes Davis can do it. "If the crowd gets going," he says, "Marc could go nuts." Which, of course, would only be in character.
The thickness of a running track's surface is reckoned in "durometers," one of the more arcane units of measurement known to man. The red Mondo surface in Olympic Stadium measures 35 durometers, as thin as rules allow, making it extremely hard and extremely fast. The track is heaven for sprinting—it has yielded world records in both the 100 and the 200—but seems to be hell for distance running. "My feet are aching," moaned Ethiopia's Haile Gebrselassie after winning Monday night's 10,000 in an Olympic-record 27:07.34. "It is impossible to run 25 laps on this track." Let alone the 87-1/2 laps, or 21.7 miles, he would have run in heats and finals combined had he also made it to tomorrow night's final in the 5,000. And Gebrselassie, the world-record holder in that event, certainly figured to make it. He ran the last half of the 10,000 in 13:12.12, fast enough to have won all but two Olympic 5,000s. Alas, that feat ruined his feet, forcing Gebrselassie to pull out of the 5,000, leaving one of the meet's most anticipated doubles half-finished.
When German equestrian Nicole Uphoff-Becker puts the reins on her mount, Rembrandt, for tomorrow morning's individual dressage final, it will mark the last chapter in a legendary Olympic pairing. She and Rembrandt, a bay gelding who's 19 years old (that's about 78 in human years), won gold medals in the individual and team dressage in both 1988 and '92. Though the duo was in eighth place after Wednesday's first round, it's a testament to the resilience of Rembrandt—the oldest horse in the competition—that he's here at all. In 1993 he suffered a broken hind leg after being kicked by another horse and required extensive surgery. Now, though no longer the figure of equine dominance he was for so many years, Rembrandt has regained the soft, floating style that made him great. "If everything goes right we might win a bronze," says Uphoff-Becker, 29. "But we'd even be happy with fourth or fifth." However he finishes, Rembrandt will close out in Kingly fashion. He and Uphoff-Becker will do their freestyle routine to an Elvis medley.
SI Olympic Dailies
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