Los Angeles Olympics (2): Daring Bets and a Jackpot Miracle
A leisurely Saturday. Everyone in the mansion, including Grandfather, had gathered not in the second-floor study but in the first-floor living room. All to watch the Los Angeles Olympics.
"Heh, the opening ceremony's about to start now."
At that moment, the brown tube screen crackled with static before revealing a massive stadium in brilliant clarity. Endless stands overflowed with spectators in vibrant colors, and the cheers of tens of thousands swelled like waves crashing through the screen. As America's signature jaunty march rang out, flags fluttered in unison. Under the scorching summer sun, Los Angeles's blue sky stretched cloudless. Red, blue, and white balloons dangled everywhere in the stadium, their flashing hues captivating the eye with every camera pan.
"Whoa..."
I let out a soft gasp of awe. To watch the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics live—what a treat.
Soon, delegations from each country began marching in one by one. Cheers and applause erupted from the stands every time a nation's name was called. The athletes waved with bright smiles as they strode the track, their skin tones a mosaic of diversity. America, usually rife with racial tensions, somehow felt united today, all sharing the same dream.
"Grandpa! There's our national team!"
"Is that so? Quite a few from us this time."
The nanny set a cool glass of cocoa on the table with a smile. "Young miss, have some while you watch."
Heh~ I never imagined the whole family gathered like this for the Olympics... For chaebol heirs to assemble in one spot isn't easy. Everyone's tied to different businesses and schedules, their days divided down to the second. For them to sit together at the same time, before the same screen—it was extraordinary.
And the reason we were all watching as a family? Probably because Hansung Food was deeply tied to these Olympics.
Every time Korea won gold, Hansung Food would run a lottery draw live on TV and radio. More golds meant more draws.
In under two years, Haeguri had sold a staggering 150 million units. An insane number. Riding the Olympic boom head-on, Haeguri was steadily claiming its throne as the nation's ramen.
"Seoyeon."
"Yes, Grandpa."
"What do you think of our national team? Can they snag some medals?"
Grandfather asked me. The Haeguri marketing had come straight from my mind. This was likely another test.
Market insight is crucial for any executive. Reading how trends form and where they're headed—that kind of foresight.
Maybe Grandfather wanted me to analyze the Olympic flow, even down to each country's strategies.
I gazed at the athletes on the screen and spoke. "I think archery has a high chance of gold."
"Archery, eh? What makes you say that?"
"Seo Du-sun's trajectory is impressive. She's just seventeen and already on the national team. Archery has slow generational turnover, so making the team at that age signals a clear skill gap over the others."
"Heh, really now?"
Grandfather kept probing, clearly delighted.
"Judo and wrestling too."
"Judo... Didn't Japan invent that? Wouldn't they take gold first over us?"
"Yes, Japan's a judo powerhouse. But I think our judo holds its own."
"I see. Judo and wrestling..."
As we chatted, the opening events kicked off. Spotting familiar faces from my past life on TV, my eyes sparkled. Memories flashed: who medaled, who stole the spotlight.
Soon I'll see Seo Du-sun in action!
The archery prodigy who rocked Korea. Korea's first female archery gold medalist, later hailed for reshaping the sport's world order.
"How about a little bet, then?"
Grandfather suddenly proposed with a chuckling tone.
"A bet?"
"The one who guesses right gets to make a wish. What do you say?"
Hmm, I'd win for sure.
"What's this? Scared to bet against your old grandpa?"
"Ung... And if you win, Grandpa?"
"Then I get to sleep with you for a whole month!"
We already shared a bed once a week. Daddy's girl, grandpa's darling—the Han family's only granddaughter had turned bedtime into a subtle family battleground. Mom occasionally intervened with a scolding.
"Mom and Sung-woo, how many golds do you predict for Korea?"
Mom answered first. "I'd say four?"
Dad snickered at her. "Hahaha! Honey, even four golds? One would be a miracle..."
He wasn't wrong. Korea had only two golds total so far. Most would be thrilled with one here.
If not for the '88 Seoul Olympics, Dad would've been spot on.
But no. Korea's taking six golds.
LA was the prelude to Seoul '88. Eastern Bloc boycotts—USSR, East Germany—shook up the field. Absent gymnastics powerhouses meant lighter competition in some events. Korea would shine in wrestling and boxing.
"Alright then. Seoyeon?"
"Hehe~ Six for me."
"What? Six?"
Everyone looked stunned.
A beat later.
"Kuhahaha!"
"Haha, Seoyeon, that's quite the joke. Six golds this Olympics?"
The whole mansion—from Grandfather to Woo Manager and the nanny—laughed behind their hands.
No one on my side?
I know this vibe.
2002 Korea-Japan World Cup. Saw it in some forum once. Someone predicted we'd hit semis on the coach's momentum—decent friendlies, solid teamwork.
But semis? Post-'98 flop? Laughter ensued.
I puffed my cheeks and pouted. Hmph! They'd all think that. But oh well. Korea went all-in this time.
"For real! We're getting six golds!"
"Pfft!"
Whoooosh—! Just watch. It'll happen just like I said.
***
With the Olympics sending all of Korea into a frenzy, Jin-su sighed heavily, his mood sour.
"Sigh..."
He'd become unemployed recently. The company's reckless boss had tanked it completely.
"What now for food and rent..."
Olympic hype? Who cared when he was starving.
Needing air—and ramen to vent—Jin-su headed to the local supermarket.
"Huh?"
A big TV stood out front, new to him. Elders already clustered, chatting away. The shop auntie had splurged on a color set for live Olympics coverage.
"Auntie, what's this?"
"Oh, Jin-su? Olympics season, y'know. Set it up for the elders to watch while snacking."
"Whoa! Big spend!"
"Yeah. They buy peanuts and drinks, so it's worth it. Want something?"
Jin-su scanned around. Elders glued to the TV. Others playing baduk, peeking at the screen. Grandpas watching grandkids, glancing up. One with newspaper on lap, fixated on scores. The tiny shop front had become the neighborhood hub.
Jin-su chuckled. "Mind if I watch too?"
"Of course! That's why it's here."
Grabbing a soda, he plopped in an empty chair. Mingling with locals eased his unemployment gloom a bit.
Then, urgent commentary blared from the TV.
Jin-su clenched his fists, eyes locked. Sweat dripped unnoticed in his focus.
"Waaaaaah!"
"G-gold! Our archery got gold!"
"Egg money! Dream or real? That kid won gold?"
"Just turned eighteen, eh? If my grandkid was half as good..."
Jin-su clapped and cheered. Then he realized—he was grinning ear to ear. Moments ago, he'd been sighing like the world ended. Laughing over someone else's gold? Kinda silly.
Time to head out?
As he rose, a nearby elder tapped his arm.
"Jin-su."
"Yes?"
"You collecting Haeguri entry slips?"
"Entry slips?"
"Yikes, when Korea wins gold, Hansung or whoever gives away apartments?"
Then Jin-su remembered the pile in his living room cabinet. He'd hoarded a mountain.
150 million sold, right?
He shook his head. Odds were brutal.
"Nah, probability's zilch. I'll focus elsewhere."
"Suit yourself. But watch the draw—they say it's hot."
"Thanks, noted."
Back home, Jin-su learned Seo Du-sun's gold was the fifth.
Bored, why not check?
Hansung ran draws per gold. First through fourth must've aired.
"Here it is!"
A newspaper article listed draw channels.
"Knew it. Apartment? Yeah right!"
All duds! He nearly trashed the slips. 1 in 150 million. Even multiples barely budged the odds. Still a pipe dream.
Fine, one last draw. Who am I kidding?
Jin-su waited blankly, tuning into the fifth.
"Not funny. Sigh..."
He chewed jerky bought earlier.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
Something familiar hit Jin-su's ears mid-jerky bite.
"Huh?"
He fumbled the slips on the floor. One, two, three... At the last one.
"Ahhh..."
Drool pooled from Jin-su's mouth. Eyes darted between slip and screen. His heart pounded like it would burst.
"H-heart..."
Leaping up, Jin-su bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"I hit it! I freaking hit iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!"