SPORT HITS YOU hardest when you are a kid. At least that’s what I thought until the All-Ireland hurling final, but we won’t talk about that now.
When you’re eight, nine, ten, that’s when it all seems impossibly big and that’s how it stays in your mind. Getting on for 40 years later, there has been no more awesome force than Mike Tyson in a ring, no power like he would unleash on fighters like Trevor Berbick, James Smith and Tony Tucker.
There has been no football team more fluent and potent as the Liverpool of John Barnes, Peter Beardsley and John Aldridge, going 29 unbeaten from the start of the 1987-88 season.
Then there was the Olympics. Ben Johnson with his finger in the air, nonchalant, looking left while obliterating the field and the world record. It remains so vivid, as does what happened in the aftermath.
Ben Johnson approaches the line on his way to running 9.79. Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
“Now I’ve just been handed a piece of paper here,” said Des Lynam, “if it’s right it will be the most dramatic story out of these Olympics or perhaps any others. It says Ben Johnson of Canada has been caught taking drugs and is expected to be stripped of his 100m gold medal, according to Olympic committee sources.”
I can remember how I felt afterwards. Not shocked, not disgusted – just excited. “Most dramatic story out of these Olympics or perhaps any other”. Wow. What a time to be alive! To one young fan who, along with most of the TV-watching world, had followed the Johnson-Carl Lewis rivalry with fascination over the previous seasons this was yet more show-stopping material.
Advertisement
But why would an athlete want to take drugs? Weren’t they more for people doing music than sport? My Dad outlined the distinction, television filled in the blanks and soon enough I, along with everyone else my age, knew what an anabolic steroid was and how it worked.
And that was the last of the Olympics I watched for many a long decade. I can’t claim it was a decision taken consciously. I wasn’t capable of such a moral stand as a ten-year-old, nor am I now if I’m honest given the amount of sports I follow with keen interest despite their Ben Johnson moments over the years.
Seoul 88 didn’t incite any form in protest for me, just the more insidious thing: apathy. Is this something you can trust? Is it really happening? Hmm, maybe, maybe not. Think I’ll stick to football, or perhaps watch a bit of the Tour de France instead.
And there have been many moments in the 36 years since that I’ve dipped into the Olympics, enjoyed it, in many cases free of suspicion, other times not at all free from it but, again, not passionate or invested enough to care.
London 2012 was fantastic. Living there at the time, it was impossible not to be swept along in the giddy atmosphere. Still I was happy enough to trek up and back to Ruislip and cover Neasden Gaels versus North London Shamrocks for the Irish Post while colleagues headed the other way, towards Stratford.
This year has been better again. Something about the growth happening in Irish athletics, the personalities involved, the vibrancy, how it feels like the very best of today’s Ireland, ambitious and fresh and unified.
Then there is the continued excellence of the rowers and the ever-present hope of medals in boxing. Swimming too. Hockey has captured my attention, same with skateboarding and basketball. The sense of wonder on the faces of multi-millionaire athletes Steph Curry and Kevin Durant was pure and infectious.
Step Curry with Kevin Durant. Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
And for those less famous athletes, you can measure the time and dreams invested by their every expression in victory and defeat. The entire thing is raw in a way day-to-day life cannot ever be, because the human race would not survive that level of excitement. Yet to see it in others every four years is a tonic in a cynical world. And few of us want to be cynical.
On Sunday the young fella asked me a question out of the blue about a boxer and a drugs test. Why would a boxer ever take drugs? Despite the world they live in, ten-year-olds can sometimes be as innocent as they were 30-odd years ago. I thought I’d try to keep it that way, and bluffed him away with a non answer.
Later that evening the conversation in the room turned to an episode in swimming from a few Olympics back. I tried to shut that down, but it was all happening by then.
Then yesterday during one of the heats a swimmer surged into an early lead. “Is that guy so fast because he’s on drugs?”
Ah here. The kid was ruining my buzz by now.
“It’s not like that. Very few athletes ever take drugs. The ones that do get caught. You have to watch this and not think about that.”
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
Close
Comments
This is YOUR comments community. Stay civil, stay constructive, stay on topic.
Please familiarise yourself with our comments policy
here
before taking part.
You never forget your first Olympics, which is not always a great thing
SPORT HITS YOU hardest when you are a kid. At least that’s what I thought until the All-Ireland hurling final, but we won’t talk about that now.
When you’re eight, nine, ten, that’s when it all seems impossibly big and that’s how it stays in your mind. Getting on for 40 years later, there has been no more awesome force than Mike Tyson in a ring, no power like he would unleash on fighters like Trevor Berbick, James Smith and Tony Tucker.
There has been no football team more fluent and potent as the Liverpool of John Barnes, Peter Beardsley and John Aldridge, going 29 unbeaten from the start of the 1987-88 season.
Then there was the Olympics. Ben Johnson with his finger in the air, nonchalant, looking left while obliterating the field and the world record. It remains so vivid, as does what happened in the aftermath.
Ben Johnson approaches the line on his way to running 9.79. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo
“Now I’ve just been handed a piece of paper here,” said Des Lynam, “if it’s right it will be the most dramatic story out of these Olympics or perhaps any others. It says Ben Johnson of Canada has been caught taking drugs and is expected to be stripped of his 100m gold medal, according to Olympic committee sources.”
I can remember how I felt afterwards. Not shocked, not disgusted – just excited. “Most dramatic story out of these Olympics or perhaps any other”. Wow. What a time to be alive! To one young fan who, along with most of the TV-watching world, had followed the Johnson-Carl Lewis rivalry with fascination over the previous seasons this was yet more show-stopping material.
But why would an athlete want to take drugs? Weren’t they more for people doing music than sport? My Dad outlined the distinction, television filled in the blanks and soon enough I, along with everyone else my age, knew what an anabolic steroid was and how it worked.
And that was the last of the Olympics I watched for many a long decade. I can’t claim it was a decision taken consciously. I wasn’t capable of such a moral stand as a ten-year-old, nor am I now if I’m honest given the amount of sports I follow with keen interest despite their Ben Johnson moments over the years.
Seoul 88 didn’t incite any form in protest for me, just the more insidious thing: apathy. Is this something you can trust? Is it really happening? Hmm, maybe, maybe not. Think I’ll stick to football, or perhaps watch a bit of the Tour de France instead.
And there have been many moments in the 36 years since that I’ve dipped into the Olympics, enjoyed it, in many cases free of suspicion, other times not at all free from it but, again, not passionate or invested enough to care.
London 2012 was fantastic. Living there at the time, it was impossible not to be swept along in the giddy atmosphere. Still I was happy enough to trek up and back to Ruislip and cover Neasden Gaels versus North London Shamrocks for the Irish Post while colleagues headed the other way, towards Stratford.
This year has been better again. Something about the growth happening in Irish athletics, the personalities involved, the vibrancy, how it feels like the very best of today’s Ireland, ambitious and fresh and unified.
Then there is the continued excellence of the rowers and the ever-present hope of medals in boxing. Swimming too. Hockey has captured my attention, same with skateboarding and basketball. The sense of wonder on the faces of multi-millionaire athletes Steph Curry and Kevin Durant was pure and infectious.
Step Curry with Kevin Durant. Alamy Stock Photo Alamy Stock Photo
And for those less famous athletes, you can measure the time and dreams invested by their every expression in victory and defeat. The entire thing is raw in a way day-to-day life cannot ever be, because the human race would not survive that level of excitement. Yet to see it in others every four years is a tonic in a cynical world. And few of us want to be cynical.
On Sunday the young fella asked me a question out of the blue about a boxer and a drugs test. Why would a boxer ever take drugs? Despite the world they live in, ten-year-olds can sometimes be as innocent as they were 30-odd years ago. I thought I’d try to keep it that way, and bluffed him away with a non answer.
Later that evening the conversation in the room turned to an episode in swimming from a few Olympics back. I tried to shut that down, but it was all happening by then.
Then yesterday during one of the heats a swimmer surged into an early lead. “Is that guy so fast because he’s on drugs?”
Ah here. The kid was ruining my buzz by now.
“It’s not like that. Very few athletes ever take drugs. The ones that do get caught. You have to watch this and not think about that.”
One of us was convinced anyway, I think.
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
2024 Olympics column Paris 2024 Seoul 88