THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, October 23, 1996 TAG: 9610230408
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Bob Molinaro
LENGTH: 73 lines
Has it really been just 80 days since the conclusion of the Atlanta Olympics?
Less than three months ago, the curtain came down on the world's festival of sweat. It feels more like three years.
Our Olympic role models seemed so important in July and August, when they were pre-empting Jay Leno and Seinfeld reruns, changing the viewing habits of Americans, especially girls and women.
Now, America is into the NEXT BIG THING, the World Series. Or is it Tiger Woods?
And what of the lovable Olympians? Well, that was just a summer fling, wasn't it?
What is the shelf life for Olympic celebrity in America? A month or two? Maybe longer if you are one of the fortunate few pictured on a box of Wheaties.
Just the other week, sprinter Michael Johnson, swimmers Tom Dolan and Amy Van Dyken, decathlete Dan O'Brien and the members of the U.S. women's gymnastics team showed up in the cereal aisle of my favorite supermarket, wrapped around packages of 100-percent whole wheat flakes.
In order to fit on the front of the box, these Olympic gods and goddesses appear in miniature. Except for the pixie gymnasts. Their pictures are actually life size.
``When we put a new athlete on the package,'' said Pam Becker, a spokeswoman for General Mills, ``we see somewhere between a 10- to 20-percent increase in sales.''
That the Wheaties folks could not decide on a single Olympian to deify, however, says something about the long-range marketability of the chosen athletes.
Not everyone anointed by Wheaties lives on in popular culture. For every Johnny Weissmuller, there's been a Mary T. Meagher. Babe Didrikson's legend didn't need help from the Breakfast of Champions, while the popularity of Gretchen Fraser and Cindy Nelson, obscure skiers, went out with the boxes they appeared on.
The corporate clout of America's gold medalists was a hot topic during the Games. When the media decided that this particular group of patriots contained not a single Mary Lou Retton or Bruce Jenner, the news was received with relief.
Retton and Jenner have milked their Olympic experience with such relentlessness that they should be endorsing dairy cows. But contrary to popular belief, it's not so easy to cash in on Olympic gold.
How can Kerri Strug become the next Mary Lou when the current Mary Lou is as cute, perky and omnipresent as ever?
Still, shed no tears for the class of '96.
Financial opportunities for Olympians, particularly black athletes, have opened up since Jesse Owens won his four gold medals in Berlin.
People may say Michael Jackson when they mean Michael Johnson, but the Jesse Owens of the late 20th century is too busy counting his money to care. Johnson circles the globe, 200 meters at a time, collecting thousands in appearance fees.
Owens never had it so good. Returning from Germany in 1936, his best offers came from carnival promoters who paid him a few dollars to race against horses in 100-yard sprints.
That was both a shame and a sham. The races would start with a pistol shot fired next to the horse's head. The horse would rear at the sound, giving Owens a sizeable head start.
``At that point,'' Owens later revealed, ``even though he was obviously faster, it was too late to catch up and I would win.''
Everybody who appears on a Wheaties box wins, if fleeting fame is the primary criterion.
Like the cereal itself, America has a habit of eating up its Olympians, who once digested, are soon forgotten. ILLUSTRATION: Color illustration
Wheaties cereal by CNB