Roger Black is a bit of a hero to me. He helped me win an argument against my old nemesis Snoopy back in 1996. We were watching the Olympics at the time which wasn't easy because they never seem to fall during a convenient time of day for the viewing public. Unless you live in New York of course because that's where they target the TV stuff to.
So back in 1996 we had to sit up late if we wanted to watch the drug fuelled games from Atlanta. Mind you, that suited us on Saturday nights when we piled in from the pub with our curry chips at 2am. Michelle Smith was the Irish darling of that long summer. But we didn't support her. Innocent as we were then, we knew something fishy was going on in the water (if you'll excuse the pun). So our real attention was on the athletics and the soon to be dashed hopes that Sonia O'Sullivan might get the gold medal she so richly deserved. One Saturday night we gathered in Cathal's front room to cheer Sonia home. The men's 400 meters was an appetiser and while the yanks were hot favourites, Roger Black managed to split Michael Johnson from the rest of the Americans in the field.
Snoopy likes to see himself as an expert on all things Olympian. In fact he likes to see himself as an expert on everything which is probably why we had so many arguments as that's an arrogance I like to reserve for myself. He offered himself to us as a sort of coffee table edition of the Big Book of Olympic Facts. Every now and again, we'd dip in and find out who won the women's trap shooting at the Antwerp games (Antwerp always seemed to be his specialist subject) or who was the white guy on the podium during the black power clenched fist protest in 1968.
Just before the final of the 400 meters, Snoopy drifted away from the safe shores of fact and into the dangerous waters of opinion. He exclaimed that the Americans were hindered by the petty rules of the Olympic committee in that they were restricted to a maximum of three competitors in each race. Snoopy was of the opinion that the yanks would have filled the top eight places in the final if they had been allowed to enter that many.
45 seconds or so later, Britain's Roger Black stormed home in second place. I smugly turned to Snoopy and pointed out the folly of his argument. If Roger Black could beat the second best American, then surely he would have accounted for the 4th, 5th and 6th best as well. Snoopy was a bit like Roger Black however, in that he never gave up. He launched into an existential discussion on infinite universes, in one of which at least, his theory would be proved correct. I think it's the only argument I've ever won with Snoopy.
There is no Sonia to watch in 2008 unfortunately and Irish interest is limited to letting the world know that our engineers built that Bird's Nest contraption in Beijing. So given that I now live in the Land of Oz, I thought I'd throw my lot in with the Green and Gold. But having watched four days of Channel 7's coverage, I'm not so sure. I don't think that German State radio in 1936 could be as jingoistic and one eyed as Channel 7. Not only do they limit their coverage to events that Australians compete in, but they can even contrive their camera positions to show Australians in a swim race and stay oblivious to the fact that Michael Phelps is 20 meters ahead of them.
There is nothing wrong with being proud of your country of course. We Irish make an art form out of it. But Australia struggles for a national identity and looks to sport to provide one. They used to be content with beating England at Cricket, but now that pretty much every one can do that, they've turned their attention to beating the Americans in swimming. It’s a strange sport because you need to be a physical freak to be any good at it. All the top guys have webbed feet and shoulders as wide as Michelle Smith’s drug cabinet. And it’s hard to respect any sport where you have to shave your chest to stand a chance of winning. Although that did help Michelle win those medals back in Atlanta. Personally, I go with Woody Allen on this one and think us humans evolved from water millions of years ago and it seems strange that some people are desperate to get back into it.
But Australia throws millions into swimming, most of which seems to go at finding a replacement for Ian Thorpe. They haven’t managed that yet, but they have turned up some great female swimmers, most of whom seem have names like Libby and Bronte. I don’t want to appear like a reverse snob, but it’s clear what sort of social background swimmers come from. I guess it helps if you grew up with a pool in your back garden. The women don’t look as freakish as the men, although it’s hard to tell now that they wear those all over swim suits. Many a young man got his first thrill looking at Marlene Otto climbing out of the pool. Now those 15 year olds have only the beach volley ball to enjoy. And let’s just say, I hope they are not boob men.
But hope is at hand. We Irish seem to have lost interest in most Olympic sports as the Celtic Tiger made us fat and lazy. The boxers however come from backgrounds untouched by the decadence of the last ten years. The Cubans are expected to win all the medals. But maybe we have a Roger Black in our boxing team and we can surprise everyone, including Snoopy. If we did, it might be the best Olympics since Antwerp.
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