Author’s Note: The title is a reference to the 1959 11-minute film ‘The Running, Jumping and Standing Still Film’, which those of you with shorter memories can get some sense of from the description here. However, rest assured that the film has nothing to do with this week’s post, so you can safely ignore the link and go through the rest of your life unaware of what proved to be a seminal bridge between The Goons and Monty Python.

When Baron Pierre de Coubertin, the founder of the modern Olympics, said: “The important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win, but to take part,” he cannot possibly have imagined what the Olympic Games would look like in 2021. As I write this, on Sunday 8 August, the very last Olympic medal has just been decided, and all that it is left is the closing ceremony. So, having made an oblique reference to the Games last week, I thought I would give them my full attention this week.

First, in the interests of full disclosure, I should probably mention that I have not seen (live or recorded) a single moment of the Olympic Games 2020. (Here’s a great trivia question in another century or so: When were the Olympics 2020 held?) I have, however, seen some still photographs, and so that, I think, is where I’ll begin.

Running
Arguably the greatest achievement of the Games was the smashing of his own men’s 400 metres hurdles world record by the Norwegian Karsten Warholm . This event is notable for having long-standing world records. The American Ed Moses dominated the event in the late 70s and early 80s of the last century (I feel about 140 years old when I write something like that), and the fourth and last world record time that he set, in 1983, stood for almost 9 years, before American Kevin Young took 0.24 seconds off Moses’ time, to set a new record of 46.78. (How is it, I wonder, that a country where everybody drives everywhere produces such good athletes?)

Young’s record stood for almost 29 years until July of this year! If you think for a moment of the advances that have been made over the last 29 years in such things as running shoe technology and training and diet regimens, Young’s achievement seems almost unreal.

Then, in Oslo, before his home crowd, last month, Karsten Warholm shaved 0.08 of a second off Young’s time. A Norwegian! Can you even name another Norwegian track athlete? Checking back, I see that, in 27 Summer Olympics, Norway has won 9 gold medals, which is, to be honest, more than I expected. Another good trivia question. Norway is one of only three countries to have won more medals in total at Winter Olympics than Summer Olympics (368 and 160). Can you name the other two countries? (Answers at the end.)

And finally, of course, on 3 August, Warholm improved his own month-old world record by a staggering 0.76 of a second, to take Olympic gold. And what was the photo that made the world’s front pages? What is the moment that captures the essence of the Olympics in 2021?

Well, if you google ‘karsten warholm world record’ and filter for images only, of the first 38 images you get, 28 are close-ups of Warholm after the race, showing his facial expression of shocked delight when he realized he had broken the record, 5 show him standing by the record display board, and only 4 show the actual race, with any of the other competitors. Someone clearly needs to explain to the photographers that “the important thing is to take part”.

Jumping
Speaking of which, the Olympics produced one story that was universally presented as heart-warming, although I have my suspicions. I’m talking about the men’s high jump final. After an unusually long competition, Qatar’s Mutaz Essa Barshim and Italy’s Gianmarco Tamberi couldn’t be split, having each recorded best clearances of 2.37 metres, failed three times at 2.39, and produced error-free records on countback. The pair were invited to take part in a jump-off, but the Qatari asked whether they could share the gold medal instead, and everyone agreed.

The media have been full of glowing stories of how they both felt that it would have been terrible for the other one to be deprived of gold. But I can’t help thinking: if they came to me and said: ‘You can share the podium with a gold medal round your neck, or risk getting silver’, I wouldn’t hesitate either. For these two, I suspect, “the important thing is to make sure you don’t not win, by turning down the opportunity to continue to take part.”

Standing Still
But at least all of the above athletes did take part. Probably the biggest story of the Olympics, and certainly the celebrity competitor who attracted most media attention, and a great deal of admiration, was Simone Biles, who, after suffering from the twisties (a potentially extremely dangerous disorientation in mid-exercise), elected to drop out of the team competition and, ultimately, withdraw from all but one individual competition, in which she won a bronze medal.

Before the games, of course, she had been tipped to repeat or better her 2016 haul of 4 golds and a bronze. CNN’s gymnastics correspondent wrote a telling piece, focusing less on Biles’ decision, and more on the prevailing culture in the American gymnastics camp.  

At the 2016 American Cup, I asked then-national team coordinator Marta Karolyi how she dealt with athletes who felt fear. She blew me off, saying, at the elite level, fear is not a problem anymore.

This, obviously, was not true. Asked by the New Yorker in 2016 why she wouldn’t try a front handspring double-front vault, called the Produnova, Biles said, “I’m not trying to die.” But many elite gymnasts have described the pressure to never show weakness under Karolyi.

The correspondent goes on to suggest that this prevailing culture of iron discipline may have helped create a climate in which then USA Gymnastics team doctor Larry Nassar was able to prey sexually on the gymnasts, with none of his victims being prepared to call him out for a long time,.

I must confess that my initial reaction to Biles’ speaking of mental health issues was less than sympathetic. This was partly because of Naomi Osaka’s withdrawal from two successive Open tennis championships; she felt unable, or unwilling, to tolerate the required post-match press conferences.

I respect her right to withdraw, but anyone who is ready to sign the very valuable sponsorship contracts that a player of Osaka’s stature attracts must recognise that she is not only a competitor but also a commodity. If she feels unable, or unwilling, to handle that, then, sadly, top professional tennis player in the 21st Century is not a profession that she is qualified for.

However, the more I read about the treatment of gymnasts, the more persuaded I am that there is a real issue here that Biles has been brave enough to confront.

And finally
I may have mentioned before in my blog what was for me the greatest moment of irony in the history of the Olympics. At the closing ceremony of the 2012 London Olympics, a children’s choir, and then John Lennon on a huge screen, sang Imagine, which, of course, includes the line ‘Imagine there’s no countries.’ This after many, many countries around the world had invested millions over four years preparing for a two-week contest built entirely around competition between countries. Then, for 17 days, the world checked medal tables to see whether their country had improved its position. Finally, at the closing ceremony, thousands of athletes waved their national flags in time to the music, and nobody appeared to see the absurdity.

I have always found Imagine a fatuous song, and I was therefore delighted to read just a couple of weeks ago of a music journalist friend of John Lennon visiting him in New York. When he walked into the apartment and spotted a large ice-box containing a collection of fur coats, he turned to Lennon and said: ‘Imagine no possessions!’. Lennon replied: ‘For goodness sake! It’s only a song!’ I cannot tell you how far, in that moment, Lennon went up in my estimation.

There you go: an entire column about the Olympics with virtually no discussion of actual sport. How do I do it?

In 2032, Tao will only be 13 years old, so it’s probably unrealistic to expect him to compete in the road cycling events at the Brisbane Olympics…but it’s never too early to start practising.

And the two other countries to have won more winter than summer Olympic medals are Austria (218 and 86) and Liechtenstein (10 and 0). Incidentally – more fodder for trivia fans – Liechtenstein is the smallest country in the world by population to have won an Olympic gold medal, and the second smallest by area (after Bermuda), although San Marino is the smallest country to have won any medal.

Athletes from Liechtenstein have won a total of ten medals, all in alpine skiing. It is the only country to have won medals at the Winter, but not Summer, Olympic Games. Liechtenstein has the most medals per capita of any country, with nearly one medal for every 3,600 inhabitants. (If Israel performed that well, we’d have won 2,500 medals!) Seven of its ten medals have been won by members of the same family: siblings Hanni and Andreas Wenzel, and Hanni’s daughter Tina Weirather. Further, the brothers Willi and Paul Frommelt have won two of the other three; only Ursula Konzett has medaled for her country without being related to Wenzels or Frommelts. Bet you wish you hadn’t asked. Ah, right! You didn’t.