Bob Beamon’s Long Jump

When Bob Beamon jumped 8.90 meters at the 1968 Mexico City Games, he didn’t just beat the Olympic record — he obliterated it. Prior to his jump, the record tended to be surpassed by just a few centimeters each time. But Beamon beat the existing world record by a staggering 55 centimeters, in what was soon dubbed the “leap of the century.” 

Not even the judges were ready for such a feat. The electronic measuring equipment went up to only around 8.5 meters, so an old-fashioned steel tape had to be found. American athlete Mike Powell eventually broke the world record in 1991 with a jump of 8.95 meters, but Beamon’s leap is still the Olympic record more than half a century later. It remains to be seen whether it will ever be surpassed on the Olympic stage.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee’s Heptathlon Haul 

At the 1988 Olympic Games in Seoul, South Korea, Jackie Joyner-Kersee proved that while she may not have been the best in the world in any one of the heptathlon’s events, she was the best in the world at doing all seven. Finishing with 7,291 points, she beat her own previous world record, which she had set four times since 1986. At the time, no other woman had scored more than 7,000 points — but Joyner-Kersee had done it five times. Almost four decades later, her Olympic record still stands. 

In 2005, reigning heptathlon Olympic gold medalist Carolina Kluft said that Joyner-Kersee’s record was “probably unbeatable.” That may well be true, but American athlete Anna Hall is intent on trying. In 2025, Hall scored 7,032 at a competition in Austria, which is tied for the second-highest scorer ever — but still 259 points behind the Olympic and world record. She’s certainly receiving good advice in her quest for the record, as her mentor is none other than Jackie Joyner-Kersee herself.  

Nadia Comăneci’s Perfect 10

In 1976, Romanian gymnast Nadia Comăneci became the first gymnast to earn a perfect score of 10 at the Olympic Games. She was only 14 years old when she competed at the Montreal Olympics and got a perfect score on the uneven bars. It was so unexpected that even the scoreboards weren’t prepared. Being unable to display the four digits required for 10.00, they instead had to display each judge’s score as 1.00. 

Incredibly, Comăneci went on to record a perfect 10 six more times, while also becoming the youngest all-around Olympic gold medalist. Though other Olympic gymnasts have scored a perfect 10 since then, there will never be another first.  

Michael Phelps’ 28 Olympic Medals

American swimmer Michael Phelps won an amazing 28 Olympic medals during his career, a feat that may well be impossible to surpass. A staggering 23 of those medals were gold — more than double the count of his nearest rivals. The previous record holder for the most Olympic medals accumulated was (and still is) Soviet Union gymnast Larisa Latynina, who won 18 medals (nine of them gold) from 1956 to 1964. 

After a long and glorious career, Phelps hung up his Speedos and retired after the 2016 Games, fairly secure in the knowledge that his reign of dominance — and his medal haul — may not be surpassed by any future Olympian.

The Tradition Leaps Off the Page

The popularity of Sadie Hawkins Day quickly spread beyond the comic strip. Readers embraced the idea so enthusiastically that they began organizing real-life versions of the event. The first Sadie Hawkins-themed celebrations were hosted in 1938 and included mock chases inspired directly by the strip, with students dressing up as Li’l Abner characters. Prizes were awarded for the best costumes, and men who were “caught” were expected to accompany the women who caught them to the Sadie Hawkins dance. In 1939, Life magazine reported that 201 colleges and clubs in 188 cities had hosted Sadie Hawkins Day events, and that number grew to more than 500 by 1941.

Over time, the dance became the centerpiece of these celebrations. The events typically featured a reversal of traditional dating norms, with women expected — or at least permitted — to ask men to attend the dance with them. The idea spread so rapidly that many participants assumed Sadie Hawkins was drawn from folklore or history rather than a newspaper cartoon.

A Social Experiment

Sadie Hawkins Day resonated because it tapped into real anxieties about courtship and marriage in early 20th-century America. Marriage was widely viewed as the primary measure of a woman’s success, and unmarried women beyond their 20s were often stigmatized and labeled as spinsters. Al Capp’s exaggerated portrayal of these pressures allowed readers to laugh while still recognizing the social truth beneath the joke.

The Sadie Hawkins storyline inspired a real-life social experiment that revealed how deeply entrenched traditional gender expectations were. By imagining a world where women could pursue men — even if only for a single day — it introduced a socially acceptable framework for a temporary role reversal. For many young women, a Sadie Hawkins dance — sometimes called a “turnabout,” as in the expression “turnabout is fair play” — offered a rare opportunity to take the initiative without defying social norms.

Sadie Hawkins Today

As Sadie Hawkins Day settled into American school culture, it evolved into the dance event most people remember today. Some schools leaned into rustic or comic-inspired themes as a nod to Dogpatch, while others treated it simply as a fun reversal of traditional gender roles. Over time, the direct connection to Li’l Abner faded, but the name endured.

By the 1940s and ’50s, Sadie Hawkins dances had become a widespread social phenomenon that moved beyond college campuses to high schools and community groups across the country. Thousands of schools were hosting Sadie Hawkins or “turnabout” dances each year, making it one of the most common nonholiday social events on American school calendars.

Today, Sadie Hawkins dances are less ubiquitous than they once were, and dating roles have loosened considerably. Many schools have even retired the name, replacing it with events such as MORP dances — “prom” spelled backward — that keep the spirit of role-reversal while dropping the gendered framing altogether.It’s no longer taboo for a woman to ask a man to a dance, and being unmarried doesn’t carry the same stigma it once did. Yet when it comes to proposing marriage, tradition still holds firm. According to a 2022 survey, only 2% percent of heterosexual women in the U.S. propose to their partners. In that sense, Sadie Hawkins’ legacy still lingers, reminding us that while some social rules are easy to rewrite, others take much longer to change.

The Polka

Just as Americans were resigning themselves to the spread of the waltz, a new scourge arrived: the polka. The Bohemian folk dance exploded across Europe in the 1840s and quickly found its way to the U.S., leaving a trail of exhausted dancers, bewildered onlookers, and disapproving critics in its wake. 

With its lively hopping steps and energetic two-four beat, the polka was a courtship dance with a democratic nature that most aristocratic dances didn’t possess, being relatively easy to learn and requiring more enthusiasm than refinement. The frowns of the upper class were not enough to discourage young members of the elite from polkaing, however, and the dance quickly spread through all levels of society, from the ballrooms of the upper crust to the dance halls of the working class. 

The Quadrille

While the waltz and polka surged in popularity, some people still preferred their dancing a little more restrained. The quadrille offered all this and more — a perfect social mixer for those who enjoyed memorizing complex dance instructions while wearing uncomfortable shoes. 

The dance originated in elite Parisian ballrooms and was picked up by English aristocrats in the early 1800s. It then found its way to America, becoming one of the most popular dances during the latter decades of the century. Typically performed by four couples arranged in a square, the quadrille consisted of five or six different figures, or dance steps, performed in succession, each with its own specific music. The dance greatly influenced the development of American square dancing, which still has moves — allemande, promenade, do-si-do — that reflect the original French influence. 

The Cakewalk

The cakewalk is arguably the most significant American dance of the 19th century — and certainly one of the most culturally complex. It originated on Southern plantations when enslaved people created an elaborate parody of the ballroom dances of their enslavers. They dressed in their finest clothes and performed mocking imitations of European formal dances (particularly a couple dance called the Grand March), adding exaggerated high steps, theatrical bows, and backward tilts of the head — all in a highly satirical manner. 

Plantation owners sometimes came to watch these dances and even served as judges for contests. They would present cakes as prizes for the best dancers, often blissfully unaware that the performers were mocking them. After the Civil War, the cakewalk surged in popularity, and by the 1870s it had gone mainstream, marking the first time an African American dance had achieved national exposure. Yet the cakewalk became a staple of minstrel shows where white performers left out the satire and instead used the dance to perpetuate racist stereotypes, often performing in blackface, complicating the legacy of this influential dance. 

The Two-Step

By the end of the 1890s, America had created its own ballroom dance sensation: the two-step. Its exact origins are unclear, but it was likely influenced by earlier dances such as the waltz, polka, and galop. The evolution of these dances into a two-step is often attributed to the music of the famous composer John Philip Sousa. In 1889, one of his most popular compositions, “Washington Post March,” took the country by storm — but none of the existing dances matched its rhythm. So, eager dancers developed the two-step, a relatively simple and accessible dance (especially compared to the likes of the quadrille) that went perfectly with the march. It marked a shift in American dance culture, especially among a new generation who increasingly viewed the old European dances as relics of a bygone era.

Nadia Comăneci Showcases Her Perfect Form (1976)

Despite her successes at the 1975 European Championships, Romanian gymnast Nadia Comăneci was so thoroughly dominant at the 1976 Montreal Games that even the scoreboard operators were caught unprepared. On the very first day of the team competition, the 14-year-old delivered a flawless routine that resulted in the first perfect 10 awarded in Olympic gymnastic competition — only, the scoreboards weren’t capable of showing four digits (10.00), so they instead flashed the comically low score of 1.00. 

Both the scorers and other gymnasts quickly realized they needed to up their game, as the graceful Comăneci went on to earn six more perfect scores for her performances en route to winning three gold medals in Montreal.

The U.S. Men’s Hockey Team Celebrates the “Miracle on Ice” (1980)

Few believed that the U.S. men’s hockey team, composed largely of college players, stood a chance against the mighty USSR juggernaut in the 1980 Winter Olympics. The Soviets, after all, were returning seven players from the 1976 gold-medal-winning squad, and had recently annihilated the U.S. by a score of 10-3 in an exhibition game. 

But the scrappy Americans pulled ahead in their medal-round match with two quick goals in the final period, before holding on for the 4-3 win to set off pandemonium among the decidedly partisan crowd at Lake Placid, New York. What’s often forgotten is that this wasn’t the final game; the Americans did take the gold a few days later with a 4-2 win over Finland, but the real prize for the players and fans came with the ultimate underdog win immortalized as the “Miracle on Ice.”

Greg Louganis Gets Too Close to the Diving Board (1988)

Competing in the preliminary round of the 3-meter springboard event in the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea, U.S. athlete Greg Louganis encountered every diver’s worst nightmare when a botched somersault led to him slamming his head against the board. 

Despite sustaining a concussion and a nasty gash, a stitched-up Louganis returned to the competition 35 minutes later to ace another dive and advance from the preliminaries. Louganis then shrugged off the scary incident to earn a gold medal in the event the following day, and he later claimed another gold in the 10-meter platform to close out his Olympic career in style. 

Kerri Strug Is Carried by Her Coach (1996)

After the U.S. women’s gymnastics team frittered away a once-commanding lead at the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, Georgia, things took a turn for the worse when Kerri Strug flubbed a vault landing and, she later recalled, heard something snap in her left ankle. Thinking she still needed to complete a solid turn to carry the U.S. to gold, Strug managed to charge down the runway, flip over the vault, and stick the landing on one good foot. 

It turned out the Americans would have won the event even without Strug’s heroics, and coach Béla Károlyi later came under heat for urging his charge to continue on what turned out to be a badly sprained ankle. Nevertheless, the picture of Károlyi carrying the tiny, injured gymnast to the podium has stood as a defining image of the 1996 Games, and an athlete’s willingness to lay her body on the line for Olympic glory.

Usain Bolt Looks Back at the Pack (2016)

As much as sporting fans love to watch David upset Goliath, it’s also fun to watch generational talents demonstrate their transcendent abilities by repeatedly overwhelming the competition. Such was the case with Jamaican sprinter extraordinaire Usain Bolt, who blazed to eight gold medals and set a slew of world records over the course of his unparalleled career. Bolt himself couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at his challengers during the 100-meter semifinal of the 2016 Summer Games in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, before adding to his accolades as the first man to win sprinting’s marquee event in three successive Olympics.

Jesse Owens and Luz Long Share a Bond (1936)

During the 1936 Berlin Olympics, a spectacle that Adolf Hitler had hoped would showcase the “supremacy” of Germany’s Aryan athletes, the Black U.S. track-and-field star Jesse Owens and his German competitor Luz Long formed an unlikely friendship in the face of racial prejudice. While the Berlin Games are largely remembered for Owens upstaging Hitler by winning four gold medals, they’re also remembered for the genuine bond shown between would-be adversaries Owens and Long. When Owens bested Long to win gold in the long jump, his German rival joined him to celebrate. The pair walked arm in arm around the Olympic stadium smiling, displaying sportsmanship and mutual respect in front of thousands of spectators in Nazi Germany.

“Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush”

As is the case with many nursery rhymes, the origins of this playground favorite are disputed. But according to historian R.S. Duncan, the song was invented by female prisoners at England’s Wakefield Prison around two centuries ago. Duncan — a former governor of Wakefield Prison — explained how the inmates used to walk their visiting children around a mulberry tree planted in the prison’s courtyard, where the women were allowed to exercise. They invented the rhyme to help pass the time and keep their children occupied. Adding credence to this origin theory is the fact that a mulberry tree has stood at the prison since at least the 19th century. 

“Ring Around the Rosie”

“Ring Around the Rosie” (or “Ring a Ring o’ Roses”) has perhaps the most widely repeated and infamous origin story of any nursery rhyme. According to popular belief, the rhyme refers to the Great Plague of London in 1665 or possibly earlier outbreaks of the bubonic plague in England, with “rosie” representing the rash, “posies” being the flowers carried to mask the smell of death, and “all fall down” symbolizing the widespread fatalities. 

This origin story, however, is actually a modern invention and one now largely debunked. The rhyme’s association with plagues didn’t emerge until the mid-1900s, and there’s little to no evidence, beyond simple speculation, to connect it with the plague — which makes folklorists and scholars highly skeptical of the theory. The rhyme most likely originated as a simple children’s party game, in which children hold hands in a circle and follow fun actions (“We all fall down!”). According to folklorist Philip Hiscock, games such as these may have been invented to skirt Protestant bans on dancing in both Britain and North America in the 19th century.

“Goosey Goosey Gander”

Whichever way you look at it, “Goosey Goosey Gander” is a strange rhyme, one that somewhat cryptically involves a goose and an old man getting thrown down some stairs. The earliest recorded version of the rhyme dates back to 1784, and as with other nursery rhymes, its origin is open to debate. 

One of the most compelling theories involves the religious persecution of Roman Catholics during the reign of England’s King Henry VIII, when wealthy Catholic families often had priest holes in which to hide members of the clergy. If a priest was discovered, he would be forcibly taken from the house (“thrown down the stairs”) and possibly put to death. An alternative theory links the rhyme to the closing of brothels in London during Henry VIII’s reign. Prostitutes were often known as “geese” at the time, and when the brothels were shut down, they were forced to work elsewhere, possibly explaining the significance of “Whither shall I wander … in my lady’s chamber.” 

“Mary Had a Little Lamb”

“Mary Had a Little Lamb” is a bit of an outlier in the world of nursery rhymes. Not only are its origins well documented, but it’s also a refreshingly innocent rhyme that’s actually appropriate for children, with no disturbing backstory. The poem was written by American writer Sarah Josepha Hale — who, incidentally, was the force behind the creation of the national Thanksgiving holiday — and published in 1830. It is now generally accepted that the nursery rhyme was based on a real incident at a small school in Newport, New Hampshire. 

One day, a student brought her pet lamb to the school at her brother’s urging. The lamb proved too distracting in class and had to wait outside, but it stayed nearby until school was dismissed, then ran to Mary for attention. This heartwarming event inspired the poem, which later became one of the most popular nursery rhymes in the English-speaking world. It gained even greater fame when Thomas Edison recorded it in 1877 as the first song ever captured on his phonograph.