Countdown to the Greatest Show on Earth
(from Passing Show Volume 29, Issue 6 2000)
As the sponsors tell us, he may not be an Olympic athlete, but NICK MARLAND is at least learning to think like one.
UNDER 100 DAYS. Don't pretend you don't know it.
The weeks left until the 27th Olympiad descends upon our Harbour City count themselves off with each new (eagerly anticipated) collector pin set released. Inane milestones such as '92 Days to go!', '68 Days to Go!' and 'Insert Relevant Olympic Event/Message Here!' are emblazoned on pins no larger than a sprinter’s steroid vial. These pins give the hapless geeks that queue days and nights on end just to purchase one the feeling that they were a part of this five-ring circus, and that they too, are not far detached from the ranks of the elite athlete.
I have fallen victim to this accursed syndrome myself, but it is with a more everyday spirit that I and thousands like me find themselves embracing the ideals of the Olympics.
I set the alarm for a brisk 7:30AM start, ready to hit the showers, but instead end up sleeping through the radio drone and completing an Olympic-class dash for the train, hurdling the ticket inspectors at my destination as in my rush I failed to purchase a ticket. In queues at stores I make a point of surging to the front past the other hapless customers in my epic struggle to get served first, then get the hell out of there. As I leave the store I am beaten and grappled with savagely by several old ladies who I had earlier pushed aside, in a violent orgy not too distant from the glorious spectacle that is Greco-Roman Wrestling. With the city sliding into Olympic mode - a competitive spirit not seen here since the halcyon days of Powerball and Club Keno - the emphasis has been placed squarely on the individual to prove their superiority over their fellow man or woman...and then to gloat selfishly once they have done.
But as I athletically type away at this keyboard, another parallel between the Olympics and my real life comes to mind. Ladies and Gentlemen, over the past few years leading up to this new Olympiad, I have well and truly realised that there are two types of people in this world: The Elite....and Me. The IOC... and everyone else. Those who wield power like a sword.... and those who meekly say "OK, sure, I’ll clean that toilet - just put the damn sword down!" In the Olympic world-come-to-life, there's the guy that gets the girl, the man that buys and sells people's livelihoods with a phone call: This man is the United States, the Russia of the world - standing atop the podium with the winning smile. Then there's me; the small contingent from Swaziland who sold his last Hawaiian shirt just to compete.
Just like in the Olympics, real life isn’t always fair.
Think about it. What would these games cost the IOC? Nothing. Nothing at all. The NSW Government (with our money) makes sure there are urinal cakes in the Stadium Australia restrooms, and the IOC cleans up from the goodwill of what is supposedly about the humanitarian spirit. Not urinal cakes...I mean the Olympics. Once again, there's Juan Antonio Samaranch, walking off into the sunset with the girl, whilst the rest of us take a gamble on something that could leave us in much debt for years to come. And leave us without any Hawaiian shirts.
So as I get ready to go out and camp with thousands of other geeks just to buy a small shiny piece of metal that cost some people a second mortgage on their house, I pause for a minute and think what the Olympics really mean, when you get down to it. Basically, they prove once again that some have it, some don't....whatever 'it' is. But at the same time, it's not the winning but the 'taking part'. Does it matter that some of us aren’t up on the podium? It's what the Olympics symbolise, in the end. For all those pin freaks sitting out there, eagerly awaiting the release of the new 'Less than 100 but more than 50 Days to Go!' pin, this is all that matters. The smaller things that bring them joy and hope.
And Samaranch is going to hell anyway, so cheer up!
Hey! Hands off my damn pin!
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