Well, enjoyed the Olympics, then? For me it had its moments, but overall these were the most disappointing Olympics I’ve ever watched. And I’ve watched a few.
Why? Maybe start with the coverage. RTÉ carried the Games on RTÉ 2, except for those of us living in the north-east of Ireland, in which case we got a message telling us this channel wasn’t available. I’m assuming it’s got something to do with Brexit, but it’s also got to do with RTÉ’s failure to make sure that, as Ireland’s national broadcaster, it covers all of Ireland. Since athletes with ‘Ireland’ on their back came from all over the (to borrow a term) ‘island’, it’d be nice if people all over the ‘island’ could have seen them perform. National broadcaster my bottom.
Then there was the fact that Ireland’s athletes tasted success early on – peaked too early, really. The two Skibereenians Paul O’Donovan and Fintan McCarthy with their cheeky cheerful chat powered their way to gold – yerrah, sure why not, lads – and it was only great. Silver in Rio, gold in Tokyo. I’ve tended to think of rowing as a sport for toffs – Oxford v Cambridge and all that – but I’m assured that the Skibereen Boat Club is as democratic and community-based as they come. I hope that’s true.
But being boosted to Cloud Nine in the early stages meant we had no way to go but down. OK, Ireland got a bronze in the boxing, but at what a price. The sight of poor Aidan Walsh literally leaping for joy, knowing he’d won at least a bronze medal, before landing so awkwardly he was unable to compete in the next round – time to bury your face in a cushion. When people think back on Aidan at the Olympics, they’ll remember, not his medal but his lep that left him banjaxed. So compared to the UK we’ve ended up with a poor tally.
But maybe that’s not the way to think. Maybe we should go with those few athletes who cheerfully said that getting to the games was dream fulfilled for them. Because some other athletes were giving out some seriously mis-guided signals.
“I just want to say – follow your dream. All the young people out there – you can be anything you choose, providing you put in the hard graft.” Oh really? Tell that to the big heavyweight boxer who lost and then refused to leave the ring. Tell that to Michael Conlon, who five years ago in Rio mouthed a few choice words at the judges before giving them a one-fingered salute. Tell that to Naomi Osaka, the Japanese tennis player who lit the Olympic flame and then was knocked out in the third round (she’d withdrawn from the French Tennis Open, on mental health grounds), or Simone Biles the US gymnast, who pulled out of the Games citing the need to take care of her mental health.
There are people who’ll tell you that the Olympic Games are how nations should relate – in fair and friendly athletic competition, not in futile bloody warfare. True, involvement in sports can be good for your physical as well as mental well-being. But for every Olympic medallist who was lepping about in victory, grinning and deliriously happy, there were dozens, probably hundreds who were wondering why they’d devoted five hard years to getting to this point, only to be swatted aside in the rush for medals.
For every breathless athlete showing off her or his medal, there is a dozen choking back the tears, thinking of all those early mornings training and training and training, only to arrive at this bitter moment where the dream crashes and burns.
The Olympic Games are like the Eleven Plus: great if you are among the successful few, bitter and galling if you’re among the majority who taste rejection and defeat.
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