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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Truly A Historic Year Olympics, Yanks Counted Among Best Stories Of ‘96

Steve Wilstein Associated Press

Twenty years from now, and on prominent anniversaries beyond, successive generations will celebrate the sports stars of 1996 in misty prose dripping with nostalgia.

It was that kind of golden year.

They’ll find Kerri Strug and beseech her to recall all the painful details of her vault in Atlanta, and every emotion she felt hopping up to the victory stand from the arms of Bela Karolyi to the embrace of her teammates.

They’ll seek out gray-haired Carl Lewis and ask him how he soared for one last Olympic gold in the long jump when everyone thought his time had passed.

Michael Johnson, whose 200-meter record may still stand, will pose with his golden shoes and describe once more his whoosh with a swoosh that amazed even him.

They’ll track down each of the New York Yankees to recount every play, every at-bat, maybe even every pitch in that stirring World Series comeback against the Atlanta Braves.

Evander Holyfield will tell about the time he pulled off one of boxing’s greatest upsets, deflating and defeating Mike Tyson and ensuring himself a place beside the bravest heavyweight champions.

Unless Michael Jordan is surpassed by some 7-footer with fancier moves and sharper shots, he’ll be remembered as the best player in NBA history and be asked about the time he hooked up with that strange Dennis Rodman to create perhaps the finest team in history.

Wherever the Northwestern Wildcats have scattered, they’ll still be talking about that New Year’s Day they played in the Rose Bowl and came so close to winning it after 23 consecutive losing seasons.

Some years are distinguished by enduring records - Babe Ruth’s 60 home runs in 1927, Ted Williams’ .406 average and Joe DiMaggio’s 56-game hitting streak in 1941. Other years stand out because of nerve-tingling moments, like Bobby Thomson’s shot-heard-round-the-world in 1951 or the “Miracle Mets” victory in 1969.

In 1996, there was a little of everything, and something for everyone.

Even collapses came in outsized proportions, none bigger than Greg Norman’s agony in Augusta, a final-round debacle so pitiful it moved Nick Faldo to hug him and apologize for winning.

We saw Monica Seles capture her first Grand Slam event since she was stabbed, taking the Australian Open, then we watched Steffi Graf overcome injuries and the imprisonment of her father to sweep every other major title.

We saw Pete Sampras exhausted to the point of sickness on the court at the U.S. Open, yet still serving an ace and winning.

We saw Cigar’s brilliant winning streak end, the Tiger Woods Era in pro golf begin, and Cal Ripken’s career go on and on without interruption.

Michelle Kwan matured before our eyes into a dazzling world figure skating champion at 15, and Todd Eldredge became the first U.S. skater to capture the men’s crown since Brian Boitano in 1988.

We watched the Dallas Cowboys romp again in the Super Bowl and the Kentucky Wildcats assume a once-familiar place as men’s basketball champions.

Mark McGwire chased Roger Maris between injuries - if he had played all year, he might have had 70 homers - and a new breed of sluggers breathed life back into baseball in a whole season without a strike.

Peace even broke out in the pastime during the off-season when owners and players found a way to share their millions, and some day we’ll all look back on that and wonder why they were so foolish to fight in the first place.

Every year has to have its villains, of course. There was the boorish Marge Schott, opening her mouth once too often, and the sweet-faced Roberto Alomar, spitting mad at an umpire. There were too many athletes-turned-felons to mention, and a bomber at the Olympics who still hasn’t been caught.

Years from now people will remember that killer bomb, though maybe sweeter images of the Atlanta Games will endure more vividly: Muhammad Ali’s blissful smile as he lit the Olympic torch with his shaking hand; Ireland’s Michelle Smith flashing through the pool for three golds; the women’s “Dream Team” upstaging the men; the sizzling speed and silent scream of Donovan Bailey as he became the world’s fastest human, not only of the Olympics but in history.

The legacy of Atlanta, ultimately, will not be a moment of violence but the joyous, resilient, defiant spirit that brought tens of thousands of fans and athletes back into Olympic Centennial Park the minute it reopened. That will still be worth celebrating decades from now.