After bobsledder Randy Jones won an Olympic medal in 2002, the challenge was where to put it.
The Georgia resident returned from Salt Lake City with silver in hand and went shopping for something totally foreign to him: a curio.
This week, he will watch the Vancouver bobsled competition from his Smyrna home, not far from his display case and past glory, yet distanced from his dreams.
Jones put everything into the crazy idea he could make his fifth Olympic team at 40, and it didn't happen.
Even in his obscure sport, he faced the same nagging questions as Brett Favre: Can I stay healthy? How do I say goodbye? When is the curio door locked for good?
He let the competition decide.
“It would have been a great Geritol commercial,” said Jones, who envisioned himself as another Dara Torres, the post-40 swimmer who competed in Beijing.
His quest was far harder than hers. Consider the bobsled's limited opportunity and culture. Jones couldn't practice the bobsled in the back yard with his twins. There was no definitive bobsled season in the Southeast. Bobsled had its moment every four years.
One didn't need to be a systems analyst, Jones' occupation, to size up his chances.
The idea to reunite the 2002 medal-winning team came from driver Todd Hayes. A year ago, he contacted everyone responsible in Utah for ending 46 years of no American bobsled medals. Garrett Hines and Jones were in. Brakeman Bill Schuffenhauer stayed in retirement.
“Let’s have some fun and see if we can make the Olympic team,” Hayes told them.
Jones, who made the American team in 2006 and but didn't race in Italy, would face his biggest challenge at home. His wife often traveled in her work. Twins Roman and Marissa were born just before the last Olympics and had needs. Who would handle the carpools and bedtimes when he was training? How would they cope?
“It was the whole family (in) training,” Jones said.
His wife, Cherie Alou Jones, understood his competitive drive. As the daughter of Felipe Alou, former big-league baseball player and manager and now front-office employee for the San Francisco Giants, she grew up in one of baseball's most extended and committed families. Her uncles and brother also were big-league players.
“The running joke in my family is that we will get a call that dad is keeled over dead in a ballpark,” she said “It is his first love. My family will play a sport as long as there is a team willing to let them make it.”
Jones' spouse of 12 years offered her support after receiving a little prodding from him.
“Randy gave me the whole spiel about being a five-time Olympian and he made a great argument, and Randy is in incredible shape," she said. "We were behind him 100 percent.”
Jones turned 40 when the team reunited in June in Lake Placid. He made the top six at the Calgary push championships, earning full funding to train. In late September, though, he pulled a ligament behind his knee and recovery didn't come easy.
“At 30, I would have been back in two and a half to three weeks,” he said. “At 40, it took four to six weeks. That’s too long to heal.”
Money became another obstacle. While injured, Jones lost his federation funding. His wife’s company moved and her job ended. He was faced with putting thousands of their money into this dream.
Jones chose to push ahead. He entered two America's Cup races in the fall to prove himself. In December, he was required to pass a final fitness test in Lake Placid.
His Olympic aspirations suffered yet a bigger blow. Racing in Germany, Hayes was seriously injured when his sled crashed and he was left with a hematoma so serious he risked death by continuing in the sport.
Without his driver, Jones' best hope was to qualify for the Americans’ third sled, figuring he was among six bobsledders vying for three slots. The American bobsled federation, however, cancelled final post-Christmas testing and posted a short list of candidates for Vancouver. Jones’ name wasn’t on it.
“I have been bobsledding since 1992, so I know the situation and I know the system,” Jones said. “I’m not bitter. I can say the chapter is closed."
Hines, a Georgia State police officer who lives in Smyrna, made the short list but not the Olympic team.
"I think if we had a little more time it would have happened," Hines said by phone from Lake Placid. "I think this is going to be the era of athletes staying athletes longer.”
Jones entered bobsledding after a Duke football and track career. His father encouraged him to consider Olympic success rather than failure. Jones has no regrets, not even missing out on Vancouver.
His wife is now convinced that Jones, with a silver medal in the curio case and a seat in front of a TV to watch blobsledding move on without him, has quenched his Olympic-level competitiveness.
“I don’t worry about him coming home and saying, ‘I want to do speed skating,’" she said.
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