Cheering for the Red, White and Greenby David FlemingI am standing near the edge of the rather large and boisterous contingent of Iranian fans at the Georgia World Congress Center, waiting for the right moment to make my move. A few seconds later Akbar Ameri, dressed in a shirt made out of an Iranian flag and signed by the entire wrestling team, stands to blow his kazoo to lead the 300 fans in rhythmic chants of EEEEE-RON, ba-ba-bababa, EEEEE-RON as well as shouts of Motshakerim (sort of an Iranian version of "I love you, man"). During the chaos, I squeeze in under a giant green and red flag and behind a row of men stomping their feet and take a seat in the middle of the delegation."My friend, what can we help you with?" asks a perplexed Abdollah Hanaee, 36, a home remodeler from Maryland.
"I am here to become an honorary Iranian wrestling fan," I say. "I can scream with the best of them. I know wrestling. I believe the "USA!" chant went out of style about the same time as parachute pants. And as a member of the global village I wish to cheer for great athletes of all countries away from the threatening glare of Bubba Joe Bob Atlanta over there in the red, white and blue parachute pants. Can I join?" Hanaee shrugs his shoulders, whispers something in Farsi to his buddy, then motions for me to sit down. Is this a great world or what? I have wanted to clap with these wonderfully crazed Iranians ever since discovering them at the the freestyle wrestling world championships that were held across the street in the Omni last summer. A year ago, a lively throng of nearly 1,500 Iranians took over the stands, drowning out the sour puss Americans while carrying their team to a world silver medal. At the end of the meet they unfurled a huge sign in Farsi letters that read, "We love y'all, Iranian wrestlers." It was here that I swapped a Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition for an Iranian t-shirt that translates roughly to: If Iran loses, then I must die or the Nike equivalent of Just do it . . . or else. And just like last summer, hundreds of Iranians from across the globe (some driving or flying all day and night to get here) have trekked into Atlanta, paid $125 for tickets and probably three times that for a room the size of a broom closet, all to cheer for their homeland's heroes. This is just the third U.S.-hosted wrestling competition that Iran has competed in since 1979. And Iranian television is broadcasting the matches live back to, what they say, will be record audiences despite the fact that it's 4 a.m. in Tehran. In Iran's capitol grappling meets can draw up to 50,000 people, or the lifetime fan support of a typical U.S. wrestler. Simply put: My new friends give a sport that has been around for 15,000 years the respect it deserves--meaning they knew ahead of time that Hulk Hogan would not be competing today. "They are the greatest," said American 1992 Olympic silver medalist, Zeke Jones. "I love the Iranians, second to the American fans, of course, because they have a passion and a love for the sport." In other words, we Iranians love wrestling more than you Yanks love your football.
"Wrestling is the national sport of Iran. It's part of our culture," says Akbar Fallah, a medal favorite at 68kg who blows kisses to us after his second win of the day, as ACOG president Billy Payne watches the commotion from across the venue. "Financially, we are not like Michael Jordan, but our people love wrestlers as much or even more than Americans love Jordan. When I see that group of fans I feel like I am wrestling in Iran." Oh no, today we're clearly in the U S of A where it doesn't matter that this group cheers for excellent wrestling regardless of the country code on the singlet. Although Americans like murdered wrestler Dave Schultz had a 15-year love affair with the Iranian fans, you still hear comments about them like "Sit down you stinkin' terrorists." A moniker that now, someone should remind the moron behind us, applies to the land of the free, too, where the current list of suspects in the Centennial Olympic Park bombing is 100% home grown. "I don't care about the racist people," says 16-year-old Georgian Kamy Nikkhah here watching with his entire family. "I wrestle, and watching the Iranian wrestlers inspires me to get better in the sport. I want to support my country and wrestling. That is why I cheer. Isn't that the Olympic spirit?"
A moment later Ameri fires up his kazoo again and I chime in with the cheers as
Mohammed Talaei battles Bulgaria's Aleksandr Guzov to the wire before losing,
3-2, in the final three seconds of the 57 kg quarterfinal bout. Like my
countrymen beside me I am crushed by the loss. "Now? Now am I an honorary
Iranian?" I ask Hanaee, who reaches into his bag and tosses me a team program
and the official green and red t-shirt from the national olympic committee of
the Islamic Republic of Iran.
"Motshakerim," I say. "Motshakerim."
|
Izzy Sightings:
And don't miss: Day 1: Carbo-Nation Day 2: Pindemonium Day 3: Day 4: Day 5: Day 6-7: Day 8: Day 9: Day 10: Day 11: Day 12: |
|
SI Olympic Dailies
|
