Athletes blow us away with their miraculous achievements (and zero per cent body fat), and we all celebrate enthusiastically while secretly harbouring our own ambitions.
Rather than seeing this as a downside, we must embrace it as part of the experience. Let’s not forget that Pierre de Coubertin, the father of the modern Olympics, famously said the most important thing about the Games was “not to win, but to take part.”
OK, maybe I couldn’t do THAT. Simone Biles, of the United States, performs on the vault during the women’s artistic gymnastics team finals at the Paris Olympics, Credit: AP
For those of us whose Olympic dreams have been extinguished, participation comes in two forms: baseless declarations about our unrealised potential and offering commentary in areas in which we have no expertise.
The latter is especially enjoyable, given the best part of the Olympics is stumbling upon a sport you barely knew existed and consuming so much of it that you believe your opinion matters.
Yesterday, I dedicated two hours of my morning to explaining to my wife how the Australian men’s 10-metre synchronised platform diving team might reduce the size of their splash: “You see, the problem is that they’re pushing for an extra half rotation on their back pike 2½ somersault.”
She made the very valid point that if I had to dive 10 meters, an ambulance would need to be on standby, so perhaps I was not best placed to dole out constructive criticism. Sadly, I couldn’t engage in the chat because the women’s 1500-metre freestyle was starting, and I had a few ideas about how Katie Ledecky might improve on her world record time.
The more I watch the Games, the more I fool myself into believing that, if given the chance, I could, at the very least, hold my own in some events.
Track and field is out because I hate running, jumping, hurdling and throwing things. There’s a ping-pong table in the office, so perhaps table tennis is an option (it also speaks to my level of fitness). I can ride a bike, so let’s not discount BMX or cycling.
Ultimately, I need an event that combines my deranged confidence with a skill I already possess: enter race walking. Described by a friend as the sport that determines “who can go slow the fastest,” this speaks precisely to how I see myself as an athlete.
My physio reckons I’m a long shot for Los Angeles 2028, but training for Brisbane 2032 begins today.
Find more of the author’s work here. Email him at thomas.mitchell@smh.com.au or follow him on Instagram at @thomasalexandermitchell and on Twitter @_thmitchell.
Find out the next TV, streaming series and movies to add to your must-sees. Get The Watchlist delivered every Thursday.
