FURY: A Rio Games Romance (12 page)

She’d gotten it from him.

She was Chuck Lowery’s daughter. To the very end.

T
he next few
weeks became a whirlwind as Gavin helped coordinate travel arrangements and lodging for as much of Solomon’s Fijian family as could make the trip to Brazil.

The mainstream media, which routinely acted as if judo didn’t exist, suddenly wanted to interview Solomon. First it was just the Cincinnati paper, taking his picture and asking him a few questions for a story about “local” athletes bound for the Olympics, but once word got out about his background, national sports networks came calling, eager to tell Solomon’s tale as a human interest story.

Introverted by nature, Solomon begged off of doing the long-form television interviews the media sought, and he shied away from speaking about his mother and father beyond saying how much he missed them and how much he hoped they’d be proud of him.

A few days before he was set to travel to Rio, the Cincinnati newspaper led their sports section, above the fold, with a story that profiled the eight athletes with ties to Greater Cincinnati who’d be competing in the summer games.

Headshots of the eight ran across the page in two rows of four, but Solomon ignored six of them. He glanced at his own picture, neither loving nor hating it, but his eyes quickly zeroed in on the smiling face of Logan. Her eyes danced, even in a still shot, and his heart skipped.

It had been hard to be without her these last few weeks. He tried to drown his sorrow in his training, and he’d succeeded with that. He’d never been in such great physical condition. He was ready for the Olympics. More than ready.

But he wasn’t ready to see Logan again and not be able to touch her. It would be impossible.

Solomon decided then- after he conquered in Rio, he would also conquer Logan Lowery. Once and for all. It had been his fate long ago to survive the fury of the storm.

And now he knew why it had happened. It had been for her. Logan was his fate.

And he would meet that fate in Rio.

E
arly August saw
the world converging on Brazil, specifically Rio de Janeiro. Athletes, media, family, and friends began arriving in the days leading up to the game, nobody wanting to miss the promise of a spectacular opening ceremonies and the parade of nations.

The American women’s soccer team made camp outside Rio at the end of July for several days of training and acclimating to the climate before the athletes checked into the Olympic Village. Their first match would take place on August 3
^rd
, two days before the Games officially began.

Judo would run during the first week of the Olympics, with the last medals handed out on the 10
^th
, while soccer, or football as it was officially termed, was scheduled to run until the 19
^th
.

Solomon couldn’t wait to begin his Olympic experience and he checked into the Village early, meeting his Fijian teammates at a luncheon hosted by the Fiji Olympic Committee. Fifty-two athletes represented Fiji, the bulk of them either rugby or soccer players. The men’s soccer team and both men’s and women’s rugby teams qualified for the Games, as well as individual athletes in seven other sports. Solomon would compete as a middleweight, with a ninety kilo limit.

Bula
was the word of the day, and it seemed everyone, especially the small number of women, among the Fijian contingent was eager to meet Solomon, whose story had made him something of a celebrity back home.

Solomon’s head spun as he entered the Village for the first time. Athletes from all over the globe, all shapes and sizes and nationalities, greeted one another warmly. Smiling faces were everywhere, and when confusion appeared anywhere, it was short-lived. Help was never far away; language barriers be damned.

For such a collection of graceful, well-coordinated people, however, Solomon noticed many collisions that on the road might be called “fender benders.” The sheer number of beautiful, fit, healthy people in one place had nearly every eye wandering.

Particularly amusing to the young judoka was a tall European-looking basketball player, the better part of seven-feet, all legs, walking into an Asian girl he guessed must be a gymnast, under five feet tall, as the two of them both had their heads turned admiring other athletes. It was almost like when a small boy runs through his father’s legs, and if she’d been just an inch or two shorter, or he taller, they may well have passed seamlessly, the basketball player stepping clear over the top of her and never knowing it. As it were, her face collided with where his belt buckle would be. The two of them apologized profusely, and within seconds the incident was forgotten amongst a sea of lean track stars, impossibly tall female volleyball players, cyclists with thighs as big around as truck tires, and swimmers with arms that seemed to reach the ground.

It was all dizzying, and Solomon collapsed on his bed, eager for the sanctuary of his room. He shared it with three other Fijian athletes, a fellow judoka from a lighter weight class, a swimmer, and an archer.

The swimmer, Markus, attended college in the United States, and he and Solomon got on well.

The format for the Olympic judo competition was an unforgiving, 32-man, single-elimination bracket. With the way scoring worked, that meant that if Solomon allowed an opponent to get a good grip and throw him onto his back just once, an (
ippon
) that his Olympics, as a competitor, would be over.

He couldn’t allow that. Now that he was here and surrounded by the energy of the Games, Solomon knew he had to make it count.

He fell asleep that night and dreamed of the winner’s podium with the Fijian national anthem playing in the background.

L
ogan’s team
, on the other hand would play a minimum of three matches and likely advance even with a loss in group plays, since eight of the twelve teams reached the quarterfinals.

The USWNT checked into the Village earlier than most teams or athletes, since their sport was among the first to kick off, and the buzz Solomon would experience hadn’t yet begun.

Logan found herself rooming with Savannah, Alyssa, and Tara, the four youngest players on the team. The Olympics were a first for all of them, although Tara’s National Team experience made her the de facto leader of the quartet.

“Listen up, no guys in here the day of or day before a match, okay?” Tara addressed the group, who didn’t, at first, seem to take her seriously. “Hey, I mean it! I was talking to Lori and some of the others, and they have a million stories about past Olympics where, hell, half the team was up partying all night with the Australian rugby team or some bullshit like that. I want to win a gold medal, and if any of you are dragging ass because of some dude, or chick, or too much caipirinha or whatever, I’m going to be pissed.”

“Cai-pi-who?” Logan asked

“Caipirinha,” Tara explained. “It’s an alcohol made form sugar cane. It’s served kind of slushy and it will get you
wrecked
. After we win gold, drink all you want. Until then, if I catch anybody drinking, I’ll sic the Twins on you!”

“But T, Australian rugby players sound really, really
hot
,” Savannah joked.

“What, did you break up with Troy?” Alyssa asked, referring to Savannah’s college boyfriend.

“We’re on again, off again, he’s got another year at FSU and who knows where I’m going to be,” Savannah responded. “Besides, I thought the Olympic Village was like Las Vegas, you know, what happens in the Village stays in the Village?”

“Yeah, until you come home pregnant with an Australian rugby baby!” Logan laughed, throwing a pillow at her best friend.

Tara faked an awful Aussie accent. “Oi! Mommy! Why aren’t there any kangaroos here in Tallahassee?”

Lori and Kat appeared at the door.

“Lots of laughter in here, what’s so funny?” Team captain Lori queried the group.

“Well, Savannah is pregnant with an Australian rugby player’s baby, Alyssa is drunk on caipirinha. Tara was just leaving to hook up with a Greek weightlifter, and me? I’m the good one of the group, I just want to take a nap,” Logan explained.

“Yeah, right, Lowery, if you’re the ‘good one’ we’re all in trouble,” Kat replied.

“Guaranteed Logan comes home from the Opening Ceremony with like fifty names and room numbers of guys from the parade. They’ll spot that hair a mile away,” Lori predicted.

Logan’s heart fell thinking about how the only man she’d ever want to hear from was Solomon. She wondered what he was doing at this very moment. She knew judo was one of the first events of the Olympics. She would have done anything to hear his voice, to tell him how much she wanted him to win. That to her he was already a champion.

But instead, as always, she pushed the emotion aside. She couldn’t lose focus.

“The only hair anybody will notice on our team is Leah’s,” Logan insisted, referring to her teammate’s new red, white, and blue, stars-and-stripes coif. “And if anybody is looking at our team in the parade, do you really think I’ll get a second glance once they see Jada?”

“Jada’s a model, everybody knows her already. You’re like the fresh-faced, all-American girl next door, Lowery,” Tara interjected. “Guys love that shit. And running around with Beyoncé and J Lo over here,” Tara pointed to Savannah and Alyssa. “I’ll probably have to barricade the door to keep the guys out.

“Oh yeah, poor you, is your Austrian boyfriend not going to make it?” Kat inquired, and Tara rolled her eyes.

“Austrian?” Savannah let the word hang in the air until Lori picked it up.

“We were in France for a tournament two summers ago and this creepy dude who was like fifty kept hanging around whenever we’d get off the bus or even at the hotel, slipping notes to the coaches, he was wherever we were. It turned out he was stalking T. He was obsessed with her or something. He was from Austria and had just seen her picture in the background of a story in the paper about the German team and he somehow figured out who she was and somehow convinced himself they were meant to be together or some shit. I mean we always have fans hanging around, I guess you could even say groupies, but this was so weird.”

“And gross,” Tara piped up.

“I’m sure he’s on some sort of banned persons list or security watch or something,” Kat assured the group. “Anyway, after dinner tonight get some rest. Coach Pressley is serious about bed check and we have a game tomorrow. See you downstairs in a bit.”

“Were you totally freaked out?” Alyssa pointed the question in Tara’s direction.

“I think he was harmless. I hope so anyway. We’re always in such a large group, so many people around, I wasn’t ever really worried. A lot of us have had creepers, stalkers, whatever. You can imagine the people following Jada around. None of you have ever gone out with her to like a club or anything, right?”

The group shook their heads in unison.

“It’s like being with a Kardashian. Photographers, paparazzi everywhere, guys and even girls hitting on her like crazy. Leah has her fans too. And Lori, you know, she’s always been Miss Downhome Southern Belle, but ever since she did that photo shoot with Travis Zane and then she was in that Most Beautiful People issue of
People
, she’s been on another level. You guys should be prepared; life is going to change for you. College soccer is a very niche sport, hardly anybody notices. But when you play in a World Cup or an Olympics, and really
play
, you’re on worldwide television. If we win gold, it will get
crazy
. Commercials, you’ll be asked to be on television shows, all that kind of stuff. It all starts tomorrow, so get good rest tonight.”

The women finished dressing in their matching Team USA tracksuits and went downstairs for dinner and a meeting with the coaches.

Coach Riffle addressed the team first, going over New Zealand’s personnel and playing style. She’d broken down all the game tape they could get on the Kiwis, and she warned the team that they’d be facing a big, physical opponent that liked to attack through the air, to expect long punts and lots of running after long balls. The starting lineup was given out, and both Logan and Savannah were part of the eleven who would be on the field for kickoff. Tara, with a slight hamstring pull, would come off the bench, as would Alyssa, Coach Pressley preferring to ease such a young player into her first major international tournament slowly.

After dinner and their meeting, the coaches loaded the players onto a bus and left the Village, to the puzzlement of even Lori Gallagher.

“No idea. This is all Coach. I had nothing to do with it.” Lori responded when several players asked what was happening.

The bus pulled into a hotel a few miles away from the Village, and the players were led through a side entrance and ushered toward a ballroom. From down the hall, they could hear voices inside, reciting a familiar chant.

“
I
.” A single voice.

“
I
!” A large group, in response.

“
I believe.
”

“
I believe!
”

“
I believe that we
.”

“
I believe that we!
”

At this point, the USWNT, led by co-captains Lori Gallagher and Kat Malloy, rounded the corner and walked into a room willed with red, white, and blue streamers, balloons, and Uncle Sam’s Army, in full voice.

“
I believe that we will win.
”

“
I believe that we will win!
”

The chanting continued, and the players broke into grins as they looked around the room and recognized friends and family members sprinkled throughout the crowd.

Logan rushed to her mother, wrapping her arms around her and burying her head into her shoulder. Tracy was more subdued than the others around them, wearing jeans and a Logan Lowery jersey.

Logan turned to welcome Savannah into their duo, but she noticed her friend standing, slack-jawed, in the center of the floor with tears streaming down her face.

She followed Savannah’s eyes across the room to a couple in wheelchairs, the man with oxygen tubes running below his nose. Logan hadn’t met Savannah’s parents, but she knew.

She watched Savannah cross the room and drop to her knees, weeping as she embraced them both. Savannah’s mother had battled diabetes for years and her right foot had been lost to amputation. Her eyesight was also failing. Savannah’s father had lung and prostate cancer, and neither had been expected to travel to Rio.

Uncle Sam’s Army made it happen, taking up collections and arranging for transport.

Logan and her mother strolled over, among pats on the back and high fives, to meet Joe and Aundrea Reeves.

The night was spectacular, a proper “
Welcome to the Olympics
” moment for the team and a chance for the fans to rub elbows with their idols. Several players made remarks, the coaches each thanked the organizers and the fans and promised to do their best to make America proud.

Coming down off the high of celebrating with their fans didn’t let sleep come easily, but eventually Logan and her friend drifted off, the feeling of how much she missed Solomon one of the last of her waking thoughts.