- If I were an Olympian, I would speak to the press in only rhymed sentences.
- If someone asked for my autograph, I would first ask for theirs, with an inscription of their favorite movie.
- I would sign my autograph as a pictogram.
- If I won no medals, I would walk around wearing a neckful of chocolate medals. If someone asked to see my ‘Olympic’ medal, I’d give one of my chocolate medals to them. Like, as in to give-give. The chocolate medal would be theirs to keep—or preferably to eat.
- I would roast marshmallows over the Olympic cauldron. PLEASE tell me someone has done this in Olympic history.
- When asked about what was my inspiration, I’d rip open my shirt to reveal a tshirt underneath featuring a potato, saying, “If there is anything at all that manifests everything artists are supposed to be or have — the delight in innovation, creativity, spontaneity, productivity, creating entirely out of oneself and so on — then it is the potato.”
- I would know all the stats of the previous Olympians in my sport. I’d be able to list their achievements in detail—and pride—for those who competed before me.
- I would get excited whenever someone in my sport does well. Like genuinely excited, because it’s cool to see someone do really well in an area I love.
- I’d come up with a fun celebration dance. Both for when I do something well, but moreso especially when another athlete does something well. Everyone loves a good celebration dance.
- Since these are the WINTER Olympics, I’d always carry snowballs and carrots in my pocket. To build random snowmen. Or to have a jolly-good snowball fight. (I mean, really, they are in the snow all the time, why are we not seeing anyone throwing snowballs? It’s like the first thing I do if I’m walking by snow.)
- I’d store snowballs in my freezer to use in the summer to surprise people.
- In addition to trading Olympic pins, I’d trade shoelaces, snacks, and socks with athletes from other countries, then display them on my wall like priceless artifacts: “This is a Swedish sock. It once skated very fast.”
- I would invent fake Olympic sub-events, and announce them seriously: Speed Lace-tying, Artistic Water Bottle Refilling, Freestyle Waiting in Line. I mean, these sorts of things are amusing when regular everyday people say there should be Olympics for things like fastest sidewalk shoveler. But it gets amped up to a new level when an Olympian takes everyday tasks and turns them into Olympian feats. It’s embracing what an Olympian is. It bleeds beyond the boundaries of your sport. It’s a way of life. Yo!
- I would celebrate my last-place finish. Like, really celebrate it. A dance. A bow. A speech:
“Against all odds, I have bravely arrived… at the bottom. Which is still inside the Olympics, thank you very much.” - I’d play a version of the game Telephone, but with other languages. Since it’s the Olympics, with people from different countries and speaking many languages, I would try to find a bunch of people who can speak multiple languages, then line them up like the game “Telephone.” Where one person says something to another. But in this case, the first person would say something in one language, like English. The next person (who knows English and French) would then translate that phrase into French for the person. The next person would translate the French into Spanish. So on and so forth, going on down until the phrase at the end gets totally changed.
- I’d make my own Olympic trading cards with Polaroids. Topps produced Team USA trading cards, but a box of 28 cost $25. That’s $0.89 per card! For that amount of money, I could shoot a Polaroid of each athlete. I’d go around taking pictures of people. Each person would sign their Polaroid. That would be like an Olympic trading card set. Actually, I’d shoot three Polaroids of each person. One for me. One for the athlete, and one to trade.
This blog post started as a reply to a Bluesky post.
For fun, here’s my 2026 Winter Olympic t-shirt. Am I an Olympic athlete or what‽
