The Gloves Come Off

OK, so we're stuck deep in the Olympics now, but there are two things which - among all the great sporting stories and British successes - are really getting my goat.

The first is what I will conveniently call the 'appeal' culture. This has worked pretty well in the Brits' favour thus far, but who are we to take advantage, a race who invented sportsmanship (a word which used to mean 'fair play', but now apparantly means 'cheating') and the 'noble game'? Now this can be blamed on a general shift in the discontentment of people of today, a branch of modern blame culture, but I think there is an equal contributing factor. This, simply, is the standard of officialdom. This has long been a complaint in football (er... nice match on Saturday, by the way, Mr D'Urso), but is clearly affecting other sports. We have swimming judges who are apparently too inarticulate to express why a competitor has been disqualified; equestrian judges who don't understand the rules and gymnastic judges who will quite happily change their marks if the audience shout 'boo' loud enough. Mind you, it would quite clearly appear that an overhaul of gymnastics marking is needed, after fiascos in both the men's all-around and men's high-bar. There is a good case being made for 'trial by TV' after the assorted mishaps, but I think quite a bit can be attributed to the Greek approach to organisation.

Secondly, and a bit more worryingly, is the treatment of certain members of our female athletics squad. Paula Radcliffe went to Athens
with the hopes of a nation loaded upon her shoulders; she was hyped as
virtually unbeatable and tipped by all-and-sundry (most of whom had
never even run a marathon) as the hot favourite to win. To see her break down, physically and emotionally was an utterly heartbreaking sight, but it was not due to her performance or the racing conditions, it was due to the unrealistic adulation and attention afforded her by the British public and media. The BBC did little to help by dragging her into a TV interview the day after, when she was clearly in no mental state to do so, and then speculating very publicly on her future. Paula has no right to expect this, and I wouldn't be surprised if she boycotts any future media attention and concentrates on her racing career, which can still flourish.

Even more appalling, if that is possible, was the story surrounding
Kelly Sotherton. For those that don't know, Sotherton exceeded all expectations, and her better-known teammate, Denise Lewis (who sadly
had to retire) to take a bronze medal in the heptathlon. Having achieved this in the most technically demanding athletics event, however, she returned to the dressing room to be publicly berated by her coach for not achieving silver. Imagine that - to have had, by your own standards, a remarkably successful Games, but afterwards to be reduced to such a miserable state that you cannot even celebrate being third best in the world. Heavy handed coaching such as this cannot reap reward - Bill Sweetenham has already found this with the swimming squad - and is, at best, pathetic. At worst, it is just bullying, and no-one deserves to go through that for their sport.

Amid all this doom and gloom, however, there have been shining lights. Kelly Holmes - tipped for bronze at best - ran a near-perfect race in the 800m to collect an unexpected gold, and will rightly return home a heroine; our sailing squad lead their particular medal tables; Amir Khan is upholding British honour as our sole boxer; and Brabant and Wynne are both tipped for medals in the flat canoeing. But this is the Olympics, of course, and who knows what's going to happen?

From the Ed...

Fun from the Olympics...

Oh what a combination - horses and music! I enjoyed the bizarre sight of a German, slightly tight-lipped lady guiding her beast around to the rousing music of Carmina Burana. She was, however, pipped at the post by a Dutch girl, Anky van Grunsven, who won gold and caused a huge wave of orange flag-waving and dancing at the Equestrian centre.

Over at the Aquatic centre the probably most reviled 'sport' ever is underway. Yes, it's sychronized swimming! Bevvies of cloned young ladies wearing pegs on their noses, buns in their hair and a smile from ear to ear show off their perfectly groomed toes and their mastery of holding the breath underwater for impossible lengths of time. A Russian pair won the freestyle pairs today - thrill to the team competition over the next two days.

Finally, if all this sport on the TV is too much for you then why not check out the good old BBC for some computer games instead. They offer two pages of fun for you: Herculympics and a Jigsaw game.

Well, The Post's intrepid AmSports columnist has been, once again, made to look like a silly bugger following last week's missive/rant extolling the wonders of the Cleveland Indians baseball team. Said club, on a fierce winning streak that left it one game back in the pennant race for the American League Central division, promptly lost all seven games the past week, and all seven to teams it is chasing in the division and 'wild card' standings (best-record among non-division winners.)

'Mea maxima culpa' is a phrase that springs immediately to mind, which is Latin for, 'hey screw-up, how's the view with your head up your own arse?' and other sundry comments. The not-so-funny thing is, I still stand by what I submitted for publication and continue my unwavering 'love' of baseball in general, and Chief Wahoo, the cartoony team emblem since the 1910's, in particular.

So now that I've been flagellated for expressing my personal bias almost daily in baseball's cyberspace, on with the show...

Amazing international athletes and their stories abound as the non-stop Olympic media overkill continues, and I'll show some different bias in singling out the beach volleyball and softball competitions. I never realised that beach volleyball has become so popular in nations like Switzerland, but the athletes' physical attributes are certainly, err, impressive. The US is guaranteed no less than a silver in beach volleyball as I tripe, and the American softballers capped a remarkable Olympic run with a 5-1 gold medal defeat of Australia early this week, outscoring opponents 51-1 in nine games and posting 54.2 consecutive scoreless innings pitched. The Aussies' ace pitcher, Tanya Harding, was 4-0 with four shutouts going in to the game but yielded two home runs in the defeat.

The totally human story of the American softballers is emblematic of the initials 'SC' on their hats and unis, in memory of the coach's wife, Sue Candrera, who travelled with the team the past six months in workouts and exhibition games and became a 'mom' figure to the girls. While waiting for a flight with the team a month ago, Sue sent out for a fast-food order as the plane was delayed, just one of the 'little' things she had done, like buying lipsticks, candies and other thoughtful sundries for the girls.

Unfortunately, Sue never made it to Athens, suffering a brain aneurysm in the airport, leaving coach Mike Candrera without his soul mate of 28 years, and the team without its 'Mom.'

But the road to Athens is long, and Coach Mike returned to the team
after a few days alone in their Arizona home, as he and the young ladies honoured Sue's memory in the only way possible - playing their best against the world, sticking together as teammates and friends. Tears of joy, tears of sadness, and a deeper understanding of Life, the Universe, and Everything...

Of possible interest for your weekend viewing (besides the Olympics) is the Little League World Series, with the international and US championships Saturday, and Sunday's world title game for 13-to-14 year
olds.

And then there's the beloved Clevland Indians, coming off the devastating loss streak, attempting to climb back into the chase, and the Noo Yawk Yankers (the best team money can buy) floundering a bit in the East divisonal race as August draws to a close.

August draws to a close?! But, but, but, I haven't even gotten my frisbee out yet! This is sacrilege, I tell ya! That's it, into the car they go! I MUST FRISBEE !!!!

And adjourn to the watering hole for a cold (eight-10 degrees celsius) grain adult beverage, because there is no frisbee, any sort of football or baseball without beer! Over and outta here!

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Master B

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