By chance I turned on the TV and the women's weightlifting was on. During the five minutes or so I could watch it, I saw a Chinese woman screaming at herself to get her adrenalin flowing before her lift. She then got to the stage of lifting the weight above her head, but couldn't stay still and staggered around like a drunkard before dropping it. A huge Turkish woman then burst into tears on her coach's shoulder because she'd achieved the silver medal. Such drama!
I know I'll never watch weightlifting again until 2012. The same goes for most of the sports outside of track and field. I never thought I could get so excited about the performance of a Scottish canoeist or a badminton player from Bedford. I remember some years ago when the nation stayed up to the early hours to watch our curling team at the Winter Olympics! I can't remember any of the rules of that sport any more, just as I will soon forget what an ippon is or what makes good dressage. Part of the beauty of the Olympics is its extraordinary variety enhanced by the fact it only comes around every four years.
Tuesday 12 August 2008
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