Just for fun, I watched some of the more obscure events in the Olympics today. I wasn't searching for them, I just turned the TV on, and there they were. The final round of shooting, an event I didn't even know existed in the Olympics, caught my attention.

Who thinks of shooting as an Olympic event? It doesn't require the strength of gymnastics or swimming, nor the speed of running sprints, but is taken just as seriously by the athletes who participate. Although it may not be as popular or earn its participants as much fame as those in the more popular events, it obviously requires as much skill, training, and practice as any other sport.

Maybe it's silly, but I was entranced by the ability of these marksmen, able to hit these small flying discs from hundreds of feet away, nearly effortlessly. Watching the little red discs explode into a cloud of red dust, I was in awe, having found a new respect for these men with such keen eyesight and surefire aim.

No Americans made the final, perhaps not even the semi-final, but that was of no importance to me. A man with a name I couldn't pronounce from the United Arab Emirates won the gold, setting a new Olympic record. He was the first person to ever win a medal of any kind for his country. The excitement of his victory was uncontainable to him, and I watched as he laughed and smiled at the crowd, kissing the barrel of his gun and holding it high above his head. He was handed a large replica of his country's flag, which he waved up high in the air before wrapping around his shoulders for a photo. He showed so much emotion in his victory that I couldn't help but smiling and feeling happy for him. Not just happy for him, but happier in general, because, as cheesy as it sounds, when I see other people unconditionally happy, for a moment my own spirits are lifted. I believe this feeling was exaggerated even more because the man was from a country underrepresented in the Olympics, making him all the more proud for his country, and me all the more happy that he was able to accomplish such a feat and show the world that his country was worthy of attention.

Not only was this man's excitement over his gold medal touching, but the display between the top three finalists struck a chord somewhere within me. The silver medalist, a man from India, the bronze winner from China, and the gold medalist, upon the conclusion of the event, gave each other congratulatory hugs. None seemed disappointed by the results. None seemed to harbor hard feelings or narrow-eyed glances, as is the case in some events. Something about these men, all from very different countries with very different ideas, all celebrating together their Olympic victories, equal both during and after the competition and getting along so well, filled me with some combined sense of wonder, admiration, and contentment. Maybe, just maybe, for a fleeting moment, I felt a twinge of that stereotypical beauty pageant ideology of world peace.