Paris Olympics are our chance to escape a mad world for a while | Jess Adamson
Humanity is finally about to get a chance to escape the madness of the world right now. Embrace it, writes Jess Adamson.
Opinion
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When I think of good comebacks, I don’t think of Donald Trump.
He’s part way through one of the biggest revivals we’ve seen on the world political stage, but it’s in no way inspiring or honourable, even given the events of the last few days.
When I think of inspiring comebacks I think of people like Olympic cyclist Alex Porter.
Alex was born and raised in Adelaide, a talented young footballer who swapped his Sherrin for a Sprinter when he was 15 years old.
You might not remember his name, but you may remember the moment.
Tokyo Olympics. Izu Velodrome. August 2, 2021.
Alex was at the rear of a four-man formation, 1 kilometre into a 4000m Team Pursuit qualifying final.
He was riding at 65 km/hour when the handlebars of his bike snapped clean off.
The then 25-year-old hit the track headfirst.
Blood and skin from his face, legs and arms splattered the wooden planks. His skinsuit was torn. It was brutal.
As one commentator said at the time, “he’s not quite as pretty as he was before”.
This tight knit Aussie cycling team, right in the thick of a gold medal hunt, found themselves in utter turmoil.
But less than 30 minutes later, Alex got back on the bike. Battered and bruised, he bravely led the pack out on the first lap.
“Let’s go again,” he told his coach Tim Decker at the time.
“The green and gold jersey is something I’ve been working for my entire life.”
And against the odds, the young South Aussie who had been training his guts out for a decade, earned a bronze medal from the unluckiest race of his life.
On the podium, after all the heartache, that bronze felt as good as gold.
The Paris Olympic and Paralympic Games are almost upon us, and I implore you to find the time to embrace them.
For a few short weeks, let’s try and forget the mad world we’re living in right now with all the challenges and anxieties it brings, and truly celebrate human triumph. The kind of triumph that comes from sacrifice, hard work, discipline and national pride.
I urge you when you can, to sit back, settle in and celebrate the greatest show on earth.
I was lucky enough to be a reporter at the Sydney and Beijing Olympics. It’s an enormous honour to be part of a television network’s Olympic coverage news team, especially when you can’t run, ride, swim or throw very well.
One of the most eye-opening memories I have from Sydney is walking through the home of the world’s media, the International Broadcast Centre, or IBC.
It was twice the size of Adelaide Oval, pulsing with 24-hour live coverage of sporting action, beamed to billions of people worldwide.
We shook the hand of Mohammed Ali as he moved through on a golf cart, surrounded by wellwishers.
I remember seeing the great Bruce McAvaney in a cafe area in Beijing’s IBC. Amid the chaos, he was sitting quietly at a table with master of statistics and researcher Josh Kay, a huge stack of books and paper beside them. Bruce was poring over his handwritten notes, that meticulous research, key to his spine-tingling and history making calls.
Nothing’s changed. When I spoke to Bruce earlier this week, he was in his home office, surrounded by piles of paper, notes, numbers, names and statistics.
He’s gearing up to call the athletics at the Paris Games for ABC Radio and lives by the motto, “the more you know, the more you enjoy”.
Bruce McAvaney understands the power of the Games more than anyone I know, he’s had a front-row seat to Olympic history for more than 40 years.
“It brings a city and a country together like very few events can,” Bruce says.
“There’s only one other event that can match it and that’s the World Cup Soccer.
“For so many people, it’s one of the greatest moments of their life, whether you’re an athlete, a coach, a volunteer or an administrator. It’s a life changer.”
Sydney 2000 was a life changer for Cathy Freeman.
Seven’s Jane Doyle and I found ourselves just a few rows from the front that night, after a prominent Adelaide businessman handed back a wad of tickets he no longer required.
112,524 people packed the stadium. We couldn’t and still can’t, believe our luck.
The tension before the race was like nothing I’ve ever felt. We all remember the silver, green and gold body suit Freeman zipped up and the way she slipped the tight hood over her head with just seconds to go. She’d dreamt of this moment as a little girl.
The gun fired and she settled in but Jamaica’s Lorraine Graham and Great Britain’s Katharine Merry were ahead with 150 metres to go.
I remember the roar of a nation as Freeman rounded that final bend and hit the front.
Bruce McAvaney called it with his trademark emotion, a moment etched in history.
“Cathy lifting, goes up to Graham, takes the lead, looks a winner, draws away from Graham and Merry, this … is a famous victory.”
All over in 49.11 seconds.
Jane and I and many others celebrated well into the night, but that’s a story for another day.
Things don’t always go to script at the Olympics and that’s what makes them so special.
Because sometimes, it’s the not always the stars who rise to the top.
I was a diving reporter at the Beijing Games and young Aussie, Matthew Mitcham was in the mix.
The 20-year-old did the unthinkable, beating the Chinese with the final dive of the night in the 10-metre platform, to claim gold. Four of the 7 judges gave him a perfect 10.
It was a major upset, and the celebrations were wild. Mitcham was the first Australian to win Olympic diving gold since the Paris Games of 1924. He crouched on the pool deck and wept. We all did.
I always wondered why I was sent to the Games, with no particular sporting expertise. But the Olympics are so much bigger than sport. It’s a storytelling feast.
We’ve got some unbelievably brilliant South Australians chasing glory over the next few weeks – mother of two Jess Stenson, superfish Kyle Chalmers, Indigenous boxer Callum Peters and Paralympic runner Angus Hincksman just to name a few.
They’ve done the hard yards, the very least we can do is get behind them.
The Games won’t help us pay our bills, they won’t fix the housing crisis or our under-siege health system.
They can’t rewrite the latest dark chapter in American politics nor stop the gunfire in Gaza.
But they will inspire us and for a short time, unite us.
Let’s enjoy every glorious moment we can.