For 17 days every four years the entire country, contiguous states and non, takes an active part in celebrating the very best qualities of the human spirit. The Olympic Games, now in its 30th iteration of the modern era, is being hosted in London. Whether you are seated in the bleachers at the Horse Guards Parade watching sand volleyball or on your couch cheering the swimmers on, everyone feels like a part of the team. Few events, if any, in life can be as magnificently transporting and yet feel so native as the Olympics. I find myself every evening tuning in to see the performances, many in sports that I would not ordinarily seek out, but still I cheer.

Swimming has been the glamor event both in Beijing and so far in London, but how many swim meets do average Americans really watch outside of this event? I can’t speak for all, but at no other time would I tune in to root on swimmers in the 200M breaststroke, nor spend two-plus hours muddling through the countless human interest stories that generate the bulk of the time between the rather expedient (obviously) races.

But this is the magic of the Olympics. I feel excitement when they win and sympathy when they do not. My heart swells with pride as I watch the athletes ascend the podium and slowly pan their gaze up as their country’s flag is raised. There is a perfect moment of admiration and envy that strikes when I see the first dewy tear form at the corner of their eye. It is a vicarious emotional transcendence that is a rare and wistful intoxicant.

Spoiler alerts aside, there is no event that is so universally gratifying, whether witnessed first hand or otherwise, as the Olympics. The scarcity of that feeling only adds to the mystique. It is a vacation for everyone attending as well as those joining at home.

— David Coker, advertising manager