I love the Olympics. Especially the Winter Olympics. I always come embarrassingly close to tears when Bob Costas shows the montage of the whole Games at the end of the two weeks. I know that part of why I love them so much is the quality of the hockey, but there are other reasons too.

One of the best parts about sports in general are the celebrations of the athletes. They’re so satisfying, even when the athletes are just competing for themselves or for some team. But in the Olympics, they’re competing for their country. The celebrations are breathtaking, inspiring. We all come from somewhere, and somehow we are all connected to the people who come from the same place. Usually the word “nationalism” conjures a somewhat negative meaning, but the fact is, the Olympics would be nothing but another tournament without it.

We choose who to cheer for based on which flag is plastered across the TV when the athlete appears. Maybe we pull for the country where we went on vacation once, where we studied abroad, where they speak the language we study, where our ancestors came from. I know I do. But I would imagine that most of us are cheering mainly for our country, the country where we come from. And I’m also pretty sure that when we cheer, we’re not just cheering for the athlete, but for the country as well.

The Olympics are such a wonderful celebration of athleticism and unity because of the way the nationalism pulls us together. The whole world is watching, everyone is following the stories and watching what’s going on, and even though we’ve got out favorites and we’ve probably had them determined by our birthplace and our TV broadcast, we’re usually still happy to see the celebration of whoever wins, even if it’s not our favorite. We all feel it — so it’s easy to imagine what they’re feeling and to empathize with them, no matter where they’re from.