The Colorful Times » Sports

On Higher Ground

Paul Boakye — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 17:28:44 +0000

It remains one of the most iconic photographs in sporting history. Heads bowed, black-gloved fists raised aloft, on a sweltering hot night in Mexico City, U.S. athletes Tommie Smith and John Carlos propelled themselves into the history books.

The image still resonates with quiet dignity and a palpable rage that is almost shocking to behold, especially in these politically neutered times. We live in an
age of bland sporting automata, steeped in the language of PR, super-aware of their salaried roles as ambassadors of Nike, Adidas and Reebok, and afraid of saying or doing anything that might alienate their sponsors.

Tommie Smith (C) and John Carlos (R), first and third place winners in the 200 metre race, protest at America’s treatment of its black citizens with the Black Power salute as they stand on the winner’s podium at the Olympic games in Mexico City, October 19, 1968. Australian silver medallist Peter Norman stands by unaware of history in the making.

Contrast this with 1968, when sociologist Dr Harry Edwards declared the ‘revolt of the black athlete,’ and added the voice of America’s black sportsmen to the civil rights movement. Dr Edwards was the organiser of the Olympic Project for Human Rights (OPHR), and the group’s founding statement proclaimed that:

“We must no longer allow this country to use a few so called Negroes to point out to the world how much progress she has made in solving her racial problems when the oppression of Afro-Americans is greater than it ever was. We must no longer allow the sports world to pat itself on the back as a citadel of racial justice when the racial injustices of the sports world are infamously legendary…any black person who allows himself to be used in the above matter is a traitor because he allows racist whites the luxury of resting assured that those black people in the ghettos are there because that is where they want to be. So we ask why should we run in Mexico only to crawl home?”

Smith and Carlos’ distinguished, impassioned protest was to be the defining moment of the OPHR, the ’68 Olympics and – for better or worse – of their lives. History will remember them as heroes and also as martyrs. They made a stand for what they believed in and earned immortality – but they also paid a heavy for price for what they did that night.

Tommie Smith was born in Clarksville, Texas in 1944, John Carlos a year later, in Harlem. Both were raised in poverty – Smith was one of 12 children, the son of a ‘dirt farmer,’ while Carlos lived in an apartment behind his father’s shoe store with his four brothers and sisters. Like many young black men, sport seemed to offer them the possibility of a better future, and their burgeoning athletic prowess won them scholarships to San Jose State College. It soon became clear that the two had the potential to become world-class athletes.

Smith went on to break records over 220 yards, 400 metres, and 440 yards, but his favoured distance was 200 metres, where his so-called ‘Tommie-Jet Gear’ allowed him to tap into a new burst of pace whilst travelling at high speed, leaving opponents trailing in his wake. However, in the Olympic trials, Carlos was to
defeat Smith over 200 metres in a world record time, setting up the prospect of an American one-two in the 1968 Games.

But Carlos and Smith had more on their minds than medals and records. At San Jose State, they became friendly with Dr Harry Edwards, who asked them, and all the other black athletes selected to represent the United States in the Mexico Olympics, to boycott the games, in order to bring the world’s attention to the injustices facing black America, and to expose how the U.S. used black athletes to project a lie of racial harmony at home and abroad.

The late 60s were a time of change and struggle – 1968 saw the assassinations of Dr Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy; anti-war protests coincided with the Tet Offensive in Vietnam, which saw the U.S. lurching towards ignominy and defeat; only 10 days before the games were due to begin, hundreds of students occupying the National University in Mexico City were slaughtered by Mexican Security forces. The atmosphere was ablaze with a revolutionary spirit that is hard to imagine ever emerging again, especially in a U.S. that seems to be docilely submitting to a right-wing hegemony left behind by Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld and Co, after an ever so brief fling with the idea of change. While the proposed boycott did not occur, OPHR members decided to compete in Mexico and protest individually. Carlos, in particular, was by now a political firebrand who had been in support of a full boycott. But, as he stated many years later:

“…not everyone was down with that plan. A lot of the athletes thought that winning medals would supercede or protect them from racism. But even if you won the medal it ain’t going to save your momma. It ain’t going to save your sister or children. It might give you 15 minutes of fame, but what about the rest of your life? I’m not saying they didn’t have the right to follow their dreams, but to me the medal was nothing but the carrot on the stick”

John Carlos took the bronze medal in a time of 20.10 seconds during the heats of the 200m at the 1968 Mexico Olympics.
© George Herringshaw / Sporting Heroes Collection Ltd.

However, he and Smith surely knew that their chance would come, as they renewed their rivalry on the track and made swift progress through to the 200m final, with Carlos establishing a new Olympic record during the preliminary rounds. In the final, Smith drew his least-favourite inside lane, and ran with a strained thigh muscle, yet still came through to win the Gold medal in a then world record time of 19.83 seconds, while Carlos finished in third to earn the Bronze medal. Carlos controversially went on to claim that he slowed down in the finishing straight in order to allow Smith to win as, “the Gold medal meant more to him.”

This was a comment typical of a relationship that was fractious at best. The two were always colleagues rather than friends, as many people have assumed. However, as they took to the podium, they were in perfect harmony, coordinated in an eloquent, planned protest that would send shockwaves around the sporting and political worlds, and which would reverberate throughout the rest of their lives.

Stepping up to receive his Gold medal, Smith wore a single black glove on his right hand which, when he raised it above his head, was to symbolise black power in America. Around his neck he wore a black scarf, representing black pride. Carlos wore a glove on his left hand to symbolise unity in black America, and around his neck he wore a beaded African necklace that he said was,“for those individuals that were lynched, or killed that no one said a prayer for, that were hung tarred. It was for those thrown off the side of the boats in the middle passage.” Both stood shoeless in black socks, to represent the enduring, abject poverty of black America.

As the Stars and Stripes were raised high above the stadium in Mexico City, and the bombastic strains of the Star Spangled Banner blared out over the tannoy, Smith and Carlos raised their fists and lowered their heads, disassociating themselves from the nationalistic triumphalism of the moment and sending a message of rage and defiance to the world. A thousand flash bulbs popped, history was made, and the lives of John Carlos and Tommie Smith changed forever.

There is an interesting side-note in the creation of this eternal image, in the shape of the silver medallist, Australian sprinter Peter Norman. When studying the photograph, Norman seems to represent a bland, white-bread counterpoint to the two black athletes. Their outstretched arms seem to make them tower above him; they gaze mournfully downwards as he stares, obediently, straight ahead, cutting an almost gormless figure, seeming to personify all the self-absorbed myopia of the white sporting world. However, Norman too played a part in the protest. Opposed to his own country’s pro-white immigration policy, he grabbed an OPHR badge from the crowd, and wore it on the podium in an act of solidarity with the two Americans.

The fallout from Smith and Carlos’ protest was immediate and devastating. The International Olympic Committee demanded that the U.S Olympic Committee ban them from the games. The U.S. team refused, but the IOC threatened to ban the entire American team, forcing the USOC to climb down. Smith and Carlos were sent home in disgrace, to face the wrath of a media who were both bewildered and outraged by their gesture. As a 1967 U.S. News and World Report put it, athletics was one arena, “where Negroes have struck it rich” – that two black athletes had chosen this forum to protest was perceived as uppity ingratitude. The press showed no mercy. The athletes’ bowed heads were perceived as disrespectful towards the American flag, and the clenched fists mistakenly interpreted as in support of the feared Black Panthers. Yet, never afraid of contradicting themselves, other media outlets described their “Nazi-like salute,” with Chicago columnist Brent Musburger dubbing them “black – skinned Storm-troopers.” Time magazine ran a picture of the Olympic insignia, replacing the motto “Faster, Higher, Stronger” with the words “Angrier, Nastier, Uglier.”

Carlos did little to placate a furious white America with his public comments: “We’re sort of show horses out there for the white people. They give us peanuts, pat us on the back and say, ‘Boy, you did fine’.”

Tommie Smith threw his arms into the air and broke into a wide smile 5 metres before the finish. He shattered the world record with a time of 19.83 seconds.
© Ed Lacey/Sporting Heroes Collection Ltd.

Smith and Carlos found themselves ostracised, struggling to find work, and in receipt of regular death-threats. Smith was forced to attend night-classes when he returned to college, and had to battle to make ends meet: “A rock came through our front window into our living room, where we had the crib…it seemed like everybody hated me. I had no food. My baby was hungry. My wife had no dresses.”

Smith was able to borrow enough money to complete his education, and became a qualified teacher. He spent several years with the Cincinatti Bengals American football team, later moving on to Santa Monica College, where he remains as a social science and healthcare teacher, and coaches athletics.

The outspoken Carlos found life even more difficult, being forced to travel to find whatever work he could, spending time as a security guard, a gardener, a caretaker. His situation became so dire that he was forced to chop up his furniture for firewood to keep his family warm. The stress of life as an out-cast was too much for his wife, who committed suicide.

Years on, Smith and Carlos have been justly recognised as heroes, being inducted into the African American Ethnic Hall of Fame in 2003. But John Carlos still cannot rest: “I don’t feel embraced; I feel like a survivor, like I survived cancer.” He is dismayed that his and Smith’s legacy seems to have been wasted by a generation of black athletes who have reaped the financial rewards of sporting success, but turned their back on their social and political obligations. He believes there is still a battle to be fought, and is contemptuous of those who believe that athletes should be seen and not heard:

“Those people should put all their millions of dollars together and make a factory that builds athlete-robots. Athletes are human-beings. We have feelings too. How can you ask someone to live in the world, to exist in the world, and not have something to say about injustice?”

While Smith seems to have found some peace, Carlos’ revolutionary spirit cannot come to terms with today’s insipid, apolitical, hyper-commodified world of sport. He paid a terrible price for his actions one hot night in Mexico City, but the image that was created there will live forever as a beautiful symbol of defiance. Forty-two years on it burns as fiercely as it ever did, still resonating with all the possibilities of the human spirit. But, for John Carlos, the fight goes on.

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99 Problems IS England Football Anthem

Paul Boakye — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 10:45:00 +0000

Former FA executive director David Davies has called for an inquiry into England’s dismal performance at the World Cup. Really?

Sweet F.A.

What in their previous performance had justified the level of misplaced confidence that England showed in its home grown team?

Judging by their standards, four games in the World Cup is doing rather well. An inquiry now can only be asking for more of the same lame excuses, and we already rather like this reworking of the Jay-Z classic, 99 Problems as a new anthem for the England football team. Now where’s that other prat, Dizzee Rascal, when you need him?

Fabio Capello reveals the new England shirt.

99 Problems

I got, 99 problems but the pitch wasn’t one
If you havin’ Vuvuzela problems
I feel sorry for you son

I got 99 problems but the pitch ain’t one
John Terry, sleeping with his team mate’s girl
Now that’s sumthing he shoulda never done
And then holding his own press conference and suggesting that Cole should be playing…
You ain’t the Captain or the Manager
Terry… What you really saying?

I got 99 excuses but the pitch wasn’t one
Okay the ball crossed the line… not like in 1966
But they would have still beaten us
Ain’t that Karma a bitch.

I got 99 excuses but the pitch wasn’t one…
We had no attack and the defence didn’t have a clue
How you planning to win the World Cup
Playing 4-4-2?

I got 99 excuses but the pitch wasn’t one
The two hottest strikers in the Prem, were Defoe and Crouch
But instead they played Heskey and Cole and left the Tottenham boys out

I got 99 problems but the pitch wasn’t one
Half the team were injured
The other half were tired
And as for the Manager being paid £6 million a year!
Sir Alan would say -- Fabio… you’re fired!!

I got 99 problems but the pitch wasn’t one
Stop thinking that you’re better cause you’re English
And be prepared to work hard
And admit they can’t play together…
I’m talking about Lampard and Gerrad

I got 99 problems but the pitch wasn’t one
Excuses don’t win matches and we got plenty of them
Right now we’ve got boys, making excuses, trying to act like men!
Germany, Argentina, Spain & Brazil are the better teams in the World Cup
So stop with all the excuses -- its time to wrap it up!
Time to come home, to your booze, cars and WAGs
Why not take them out shopping to buy a few more expensive bags

I got 99 excuses but the pitch wasn’t one
I got 99 excuses but the ref wasn’t one
I got 99 excuses but the Vuvuzela’s wasn’t one
I got 99 excuses but the WAGs wasn’t one
I got excuses, excuses, excuses…

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Black Stars for World Cup Victory in Short Ghana Film

Black Stars for World Cup Victory in Short Ghana Film

MissMarshall — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 15:02:05 +0000

2006 saw Ghana’s first entry into the world’s most prestigious football event.

This short film captures some of the passion and excitement West Africans at home and abroad feel about the international sporting competition known globally as The World Cup.

The Black Stars of Ghana on the Road to Victory?

The film was made off-the-cuff as a bit of fun. A holiday movie interviewing Ghanaians on the Black Star’s chances of bringing The World Cup home in 2006. I still enjoy it. I hope you do, too.

“Come on, you Black Stars! Bring home the cup in 2010!!!”

Will it be The Black Stars? Or will it be your team? Who do you think will win The World Cup? Leave a comment below.

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Tips and Tricks for the Mountain Biking Novice

jimmywhite — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 16:02:49 +0000

Learning how to mountain bike can sometimes be a little intimidating, if you don’t have a bit of help from someone more experienced. Mountain biking is an exciting and physically demanding sport that can be enjoyed by anyyone who knows how to ride a bike. It does present, however, some additional challenges compared to the average neighbourhood ride, but that is something to be expected and part of the fun.

BMX Mountain Biking Poster: Shows oversized rider (without helmet) jumping out of the box and is also available on clothing apparel.

Master some basic skills before you hit the real dirt and turn those obstacles into something to look forward to enjoying. Some mountain biking beginner skills can be practiced at a local park, schoolyard, bike path, or just in your own backyard. Try to find a safe location with a steep hill. The most important mountain biking accessory you will need must be the helmet. This is a shameless plea, but you should always wear a bike helmet. Nobody should be on a bicycle without a helmet. Far too many people suffer serious head injuries that could have been prevented by wearing a helmet. Statistics don’t lie. Modern mountain bike helmets are both comfortable and stylish, and everyone on the trail wears one, so don’t be shy, get one for yourself!

Another must have accessory are the mountain bike gloves. When you’re on the trail, your hands can take a beating. Beginners who tend to keep a death grip on the handlebars can find them especially brutal on the hands. Your hands are also one of the first parts of your body to touch the ground when you crash and everyone crashes at some point (thinking otherwise is just trying to bolt out the inevitable, which won’t help you when you fall). Mountain bike gloves are a great mountain bike accessory because they take the beating for you. We recommend full-fingered gloves over the cut-off- finger type. Don’t get caught red handed; it can take you off the trail for days!

Another important riding accessory is the hydration system. Bring either a water bottle with you or as we recommend, take a hydration backpack. It is easy to let yourself get dehydrated, intense effort will drain the water out of your body faster than you would think, so bring water with you and drink it on the trail to keep your body running properly as you ride. The bike you get for yourself will dictate, more than anything else, the way you ride. Getting a bike that fits you and your riding style is the most critical step and, unfortunately, the hardest choice.

There is virtually no limit to how much money you can spend on a new mountain bike these days. To keep your spending under control, figure out what budget you’re working with and the price you are willing to pay for your new bike, then try to only look at bikes within that price range. That might be easier said than done because there are some beautiful bikes out there. I would not recommend buying a bike from a mass-merchant store such as Walmart, Costco or other similar ‘discount’ retailers in your country. Support your local bike shop, and get a better product for your money, and a much better service at your fingertips, so to speak.

Mountain bikes are designed for several different riding styles and terrains. You will need to figure out what type of riding you will be doing most of the time. Is it smooth trail riding or cross-country racing? All mountain cruising or lift accessed gravity mayhem? Make sure the bikes you look at fit your riding style and not the sales staff’s commission incentive. I always recommend a full suspension mountain bike, and if you can afford it, you’ll certainly feel the difference on the trail.

Safe mountain biking is fun for all the family.

Hard-tails, without rear suspension, are lighter weight and pedal more efficiently but full suspension designs offer more comfort and better control. You will want to decide based on your price range, riding style and terrain. After selecting, buying and equipping your mountain bike as we have discussed, and you should have no problems on the trail. Just enjoy yourself on this fun outdoors activity, which we call, mountain biking.

And, hey-hey-hey-hey, you be careful out there!

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The Lazy Way to Fitness: A 15-Minute Workout

Best Black England Football XI, Ever

J Hill — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 15:03:47 +0000

The FA scored an embarrassing and costly own-goal in 2005 after they were forced to scrap thousands of copies of a DVD entitled The Pride of the Nation – a retrospective look at the finest players to represent England over 40 years, which failed to acknowledge any of the 48 black men to represent their country in that time.

They hurriedly put together a new edition, featuring several black players but the damage was already done. So, here we present an alternative look at the history of the England team – the greatest black players ever to wear the Three Lions. And in the spirit of diversity, we’ve even thrown in Bobby Robson as a token white manager. See what you think.

GK: David James
48 appearances; 0 goals

Something of a forced choice, given that he is the sole black goalkeeper to play for England. Best known for being the only public figure to rival Prince Philip for the number of occasions on which his name has appeared in the press preceded by the words ‘gaffe prone.’ Earned the nickname ‘Calamity James’ after a series of high-profile errors while playing for Liverpool, and has found it hard to shake off. However, fans of Aston Villa and Manchester City will tell you a different story – of a reliable, gifted goalkeeper who inspires confidence in his defence and fierce loyalty from the supporters.

RB: Viv Anderson
30 appearances; 2 goals

The first ever black player to represent the full England side, Anderson was a key member of Brian Clough’s legendary Nottingham Forest team, earning domestic and European honours in the late 70s and early 80s. He went on to play for Arsenal and Manchester United, but was unlucky to find the likes of Phil Neal ahead of him in the England set-up. One of the few black players to make the leap into management when he became Barnsley boss, Anderson has been a proud moustache-wearer for much of his career, even taking it bravely into handlebar territory during the early 90s. Talks candidly about his football years in an explosive autobiography out now: First Among Unequals.

LB: Ashley Cole
77 appearances; 0 goals

Promising young Arsenal defender cuts his teeth on loan at Crystal Palace and returns to push Brazilian international Silvinho out of the side. Goes on to establish himself as a mainstay for club and country, felt by many to be the finest left back in the world. Comes to represent everything that is vaguely distasteful about the modern game, acquiring a pop-star wife, getting ‘tapped up’ in a dodgy move to Chelsea FC and constantly being pictured in the tabloids for having cheated on his wife or falling out of celebrity night-spots with obligatory blonde ‘stunnas’ in tow and a hand thrust aggressively at the camera lens.

CB: Sol Campbell
73 appearances; 1 goal

Former-rock at the heart of the England defence alongside Rio Ferdinand and just edges out the turtle-faced Man United player for sheer dependability. Strong in the challenge, dangerous at set-pieces, and exuding a quiet confidence in everything he does, Sol faced a challenge in winning over the Arsenal crowd after his high-profile defection from Spurs. But went on to become absolutely indispensable, a point proven by the Gunners’ willingness to take him back after a three year stint with Portsmouth and about the same number of months with Notts County. Faced down persistent rumours about his sexuality by…well, by not being gay. Has had a series of high-profile relationships, including former Wimbledon champion Martina Hingis, and bland, seal-voiced pop-tomaton Dido.

CB: Des Walker
59 appearances; 0 goals

Scowly-faced former Nottingham Forest and Sheffield Wednesday stopper. Walker had an unhappy ‘It was like a foreign country’-style interlude in Italy with Sampdoria, but was an automatic choice for England for 5 years. Played out of position by the Italians, at leftback, he scowled so hard that he ended up spending a fortnight on the physio’s table with a self-inflicted facial injury. Perhaps. Feted, in his prime, for his lightning-quick pace, but now best remembered for ‘switching off’ against Holland in a 1993 World Cup qualifier. Marc Overmars scored, England didn’t go to the World Cup, no more caps for Des.

RM: Laurie Cunningham
6 appearances; 0 goals

Shot to prominence as arguably the most talented of West Brom’s ‘Three Degrees.’ Under the tutelage of Ron ‘lazy, thick nigger’ Atkinson, Cunningham became the first black player to wear an England shirt when he turned out for the Under-21 team in 1977, going on to win 6 full caps. Could mesmerise opponents with his pace and tricks, and earned himself a move to Real Madrid in 1979. Never quite fulfilled his potential in the Spanish capital, and his career wound down with spells at Man United, Leicester City, and Wimbledon. Cunningham died in a car crash in Madrid on the morning of 15th July, 1989, aged only 33. The BBC did not report his death.

LM: John Barnes
79 appearances; 11 goals

One of the most breathtakingly gifted players ever to pull on an England shirt. The scorer of perhaps the greatest England goal of all time (against Brazil in the Maracana). However, was never able to reproduce his best Liverpool form for his country, and ended his England career unfairly targeted as the fans’ whipping boy. Had a bad time as manager of Celtic, where he presided over a cup defeat to Inverness Caledonian Thistle, and had the misfortune of signing an unknown Brazilian defender by the name of Scheidt who was shite. Barnes took over as manager of the Jamaica national team on 1 November 2008 but resigned six months later to take over at Tranmere. He was sacked by Tranmere on 9 October 2009 after a series of poor results.

CM: Paul Ince
53 appearances; 2 goals

Best described as ‘niggly’ during his top-flight playing career. First black player to captain the England first team. His defining moment in the Three Lions came when he put in a battling performance against Italy, helping England to a draw that put them into the 1998 World Cup Finals. Ending the game with his head swathed in bandages after sustaining a nasty head wound in the first half, cheeky Geordie wife-beating funster Paul Gascoigne brought the world to its knees with helpless mirth by likening Ince to ‘a pint of Guinness’ because Ince is black, and the bandage on his head was white. And Guinness is black, with white on top. See? Amazing.

CM: Carlton Palmer
18 appearances; 1 goal

Some may disagree with the idea of Carlton Palmer earning a place in any ‘best of’ list. However, Palmer was unfairly maligned throughout his career, and suffered from being part of a singularly uninspiring Graham Taylor-era England team, and the fact that he wasn’t Paul Gascoigne. But he was a hard-working, effective player, and a godsend for cliché-happy commentators, who could always find an excuse to refer to his ‘telescopic legs’. To some he will always be an Argos catalogue version of Patrick Vieira. To me he will always be the man who made me cry with laughter at his pitch-perfect Graham Taylor impression in the classic ‘Impossible Job’ documentary about the beleaguered England manager.

CF: Cyrille Regis
5 appearances; 0 goals

Another of Ron ‘after everything I’ve done for black players’ Atkinson’s ‘Three Degrees.’ Regis terrorised defences in the 70s and 80s with his muscular forward play and explosive shooting. Built like a middleweight boxer, he was voted PFA Young Player of the Year in 1978, and went on to win five full England caps. Never truly reaped the rewards in terms of medals that his incredible natural gifts should have brought him, despite playing a key role in the Coventry City team that won the FA Cup in 1987. In the team for his sheer charisma and physical presence. Also, he looks a bit like my Dad and signed a programme for me at the 1995 Coca Cola Cup Final.

CF: Ian Wright
33 appearances; 9 goals

The irrepressible, near-hysterically excitable Arsenal forward had a frustrating England career. Finding it nigh-on impossible to recreate his super-prolific club form in a white shirt. All the same, the fact that he remained an automatic choice for much of his top-flight career reflected his undeniable class, and the quality of his all-round game. Has moved on to forge a successful career in the media, and no international is complete now without footage of Wright punching the air and climbing all over Alan Hansen in the commentary box when England score. In time, it may be that Wright’s greatest contribution to the national team is his son. What odds on him wildly over-celebrating a Shaun Wright-Phillips winner in the 2010.

Over 32 years and all of 58 black faces have appeared for England after Viv Anderson made his début through to the match against Brazil on 14 November 2009, it now seems that colour is no longer a factor when the national squad is selected (even though a England manager, rumoured to be Graham Taylor, once disclosed that he was approached by two senior members of the FA and advised not to select ‘too many’ black players). But I imagine that bookies would give you long odds on there being a black England boss any time in the next 10 years. Les Ferdinand recently spoke out about club chairmen’s seeming reluctance to give black men a chance in management, regardless of their playing pedigree.

Viv Anderson and John Barnes had unhappy spells in the sheepskin and are now pursuing other careers. Carlton Palmer was briefly in the Mansfield hotseat, and Paul Ince is currently manager of Milton Keynes Dons for the second time in his managerial career having managed Blackburn Rovers and Macclesfield Town, nevertheless we are yet to see a black Englishman really make his mark in management. But what’s a glass ceiling if not to be smashed?

Who would be in your best ever Black English XI? Would you favour the skills of David Rocastle in midfield over the grit of ‘Crazy Legs’ Palmer? How about giving Jermaine Defoe the chance to link up with his childhood hero, Ian Wright, up front? Or would you rather just be perverse and give Michael Ricketts a chance to reprise his excruciating one-cap walk-on part in the England story?

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What Do They Know Of Cricket?

J Hill — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 14:27:38 +0000

Rudyard Kipling dubbed cricketers ‘flannelled fools’. I take my hat off to him for his restraint, I have called them worse, much worse in my time. While I never truthfully expect to be faced with the choice between hacking off my own arm with a dull bread knife and sitting through an entire test-match, I would not advise any would-be gamblers to put money on the outcome. It would be a close-run thing.”

Cricket has always been a presence in my life. My dad is from Guyana – the country that has produced great West Indies players such as Sir Clive Lloyd and Shrivnarine Chanderpaul – and has an obsession with the game that borders on the pathological. Childhood summer holidays were spent vainly battling sleep as the ‘action’ from the latest-test match unfolded on the TV before my weary eyes, before being dragged down to the local nets to spend an hour cowering, bat-in-hand, as my old man sent one delivery after another fizzing towards me.

But this was nothing compared to the harrowing ordeal of having to watch his village team play on a Saturday. It was here that my hatred for the game was truly forged. I could not reconcile my Dad’s evangelical zeal with the spectacle tortuously unfolding before me, a turgid, incomprehensible non-sport that could drag on for hours and still end in a draw. To him this was the sport of kings, an art form. To my (admittedly untrained) eye, it looked suspiciously like a dozen or so paunchy, red-faced men standing still for a long time, while women in floral skirts burst sporadically and inexplicably into applause.

It wasn’t just the mechanics of the game that turned me off. It was the sheer uptight, dreary Englishness of it. Where is the passion, where is the joy in this infuriatingly polite little ‘game’?

“Boy,” says Dad, “heathen! One day I’m taking you to Georgetown so you can see my boys in action …Pass the bread knife…You’ll never understand cricket – our cricket – until you’ve sat in the Bourda Cricket Ground Stadium in Georgetown with a sandwich and a case of Red Stripe watching Lara, watching Ricardo Powell…”

“Are you in love with that Ricardo Powell then…?

“…watching Ricardo Powell cutting and driving…giving the crowd a reason to party!”

Party? For me the words ‘cricket’ and ‘party’ don’t belong within one hundred yards of one another. This is not cricket as I know it. My cricket is the John Major model of church fetes, village greens, and tiny, flaccid, triangular sandwiches. It’s not just the fact that it is the most effective natural sedative known to man. It’s the stuffy, neurotic, backward-looking Middle-Englandness, of it all. Sad little jowly white men sipping tea and reminiscing about the good old days of law and order and The Empire. Spare me.

“That’s my cricket. Cos that’s what it is Dad, like it or not. It’s a colonial relic: ‘the gentlemen’s game’! All that bull about ‘sportsmanship’, ‘dash’, ‘grace under pressure’. All the things that the English have allowed themselves, in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, to believe define their national character for hundreds of years. This is all stuff they dreamt up in the nineteenth century, while they were buying and selling and brutalising black Africans in the West Indies, and we are still celebrating it today?! Isn’t that kind of perverse?”

“Son, you don’t understand…”

“But I do! In 1838 when the slaves were emancipated, cricket was exported to the colonies as a means of reinforcing English values and re-affirming the social order. The game you love so much started life in the West Indies as an agent of social control and oppression, a way of reinforcing the social and racial hierarchies the Empire was built on, now that black people were ‘free’. An English game, based on English values; on the lie of the moral superiority and self-control of ‘the gentleman’. It was only ever a way of keeping the darkies at an ideological arm’s length, Dad. And not only do we adopt it; we are still playing it today? Talk about dancing to the white man’s tune…”

“Some history lesson boy. Impressed, very impressed. Seems like you know a whole lot better than we ever did. Of course, what the newly ‘free’ blacks should have done was down tools and gone on strike, eh? Or gone on one of your marches? Or signed one of your petitions…?”

“No, but…”

“So, white men imported cricket, and everything it meant to them, and we started to play it. To you that makes us self-hating niggers? Fine, but what else did we know? It’s hundreds of years on, ‘Black and Proud’ and all that, and we are still coming to terms with ourselves. You can’t just shed centuries of humiliation and oppression like it’s an old coat. Black West Indians had to re-discover who they were.”

“By playing at being the coloniser?”

“No. We played their game, it’s true. Cricket clubs started to form throughout the region, each one drawing a membership based on specific racial characteristics, separate clubs for whites, blacks and ‘coloureds’ (that’s you son).”

“Thanks.”

“But now we had a means to compare ourselves with the colonisers… and to compete with them. But we made the game ours. Here, take this book: Beyond a Boundary, by C.L.R. James. Finest book on cricket and West Indian culture ever written. Look, just a few pages in he talks about ‘the cut’. This was ours, one difficult stroke where the batsman strikes across the underside of the ball so that it angles off into the vacant space behind him. “It wasn’t just difficult –it was deliberately difficult. No practical purpose at all but to show absolute, defiant, mastery of the game and a refusal to play it safe.

“We took their game and we made it ours. They didn’t even give us test status until 1928, and yet we went on to produce some of the best cricketers ever to play the game; the team of the late 70s and 80s that anyone who knows the game has to admit is the greatest ever. And we did it on our terms, son. West Indian cricket isn’t about tea and polite applause and being a damn ‘gentleman’! It’s colour, it’s life, it’s freedom. It’s a party! We conquered the world playing a style of cricket that put the whole region on the map: cricket with style, cricket with flair and power. And we won.”

“Ok, ok. You won. So…um…what happened?”

“Watch that tongue, heathen! So this isn’t the best Windies team ever, I grant you. But things are changing back home. Some people are worried that cricket won’t be the game of the people forever. Satellite TV is beaming football and basketball into people’s houses. The world is changing; opening up cricket isn’t the young West Indian boy’s most likely way out of a life of hardship anymore. “But there’s too much history…as Sir Clive Lloyd said: ‘Cricket is the glue that keeps us together’. It won’t die, it’s too strong. “A successful team, a new set of heroes, and cricket will be back again, front and centre where it should be.”

“Aagh! I give in…”

I give in ‘cos I know he’s right. I will never appreciate the sport, but even I can’t deny the magic, the hold it has over so many West Indian men and women. I can see it in my Dad’s eyes as he watches his heroes thousands of miles away on Sky Sports. All over the country, all over the world, there are thousands, millions more like him, for whom this sport is their link with home. It is their home. I still wouldn’t put money on my lasting an entire test match if the dull bread knife option were open to me, but if I am honest with myself, my Dad’s years of hectoring and badgering have paid off in a way. For what it means to him, for what it means to where we are from, I can never really hate cricket. In fact, I’m prepared to love it. But from a distance.

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Fastest Man on Earth

Paul Boakye — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 16:46:36 +0000

Superheroes normally come from out of this world, but at the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, China, the world discovered a new Superman from right here on Earth.

Born in Trelawny on the northwest coast of Jamaica on 21 August 1986, and fed on a diet of “dumplings, yam and bananas,” Usain Bolt is a true Caribbean superstar; and a legend in the making at only twenty-two years old. Watch out Tiger Woods, your money-making American crown might just be slipping.

On the 8th Day: Jamaica’s Usain Bolt blows away the rest of the men’s 100m field to claim the Olympic gold medal and a new world record in 9.69 secs. The first Jamaican man to win the title, and he wasn’t even trying.

On the 12th Day: Jamaica’s Usain Bolt obliterates Michael Johnson’s long-held record to storm to victory in the Olympic 200m final in a new world record time of 19.30 secs.

On the 14th Day: Jamaica’s men take 4x100m gold in record 37.10 secs at the 29th Olympic Games in the 91,000 capacity Bird’s Nest Stadium, Beijing, China. The quartet of Nesta Carter, Michael Frater, Usain Bolt and Asafa Powell were just too awesome for the rest of the field in the men’s 4x100m relay final at the 2008 Olympics in Beijing.

On the Day of Rest: Triple Olympic champion Usain Bolt says winning the 200m gold medal and shaving 0.02 seconds off Michael Johnson’s world record means the most to him as it is his favourite event.

“We wanted to show the world that Jamaica is a special country,” Frater said later, as the country’s medal tally increased to six gold, three silver, and one bronze.

Not bad for a tiny Caribbean island of 2.7 million people. It must be all those yams, dumplings and bananas! What do you think?

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If only Gareth Thomas was a Footballer

Matt Gibbs — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 10:52:05 +0000

News broke over the weekend that current Welsh rugby player and former captain of Wales’s team is gay. Affirmations from team mates and top brass swiftly followed, with news emerging that some teammates had known for some time, underlining a culture of acceptance, at least within the close-knit team, if not the sport at large. The impact of such a brave emergence by a current player from what is arguably the most macho of all sports remains to be seen, but clearly it represents another crumbled brick or two in the wall of homophobia.

The timing of such a positive story could not be better in a month when debate on Uganda’s anti-homosexuality bill is heating up. While the release of Thomas’s story is clearly coincidental – not a planned response to the negativity of evangelical propaganda – the message could not be clearer: coming-out for the sake of openness, honesty and truth, as opposed to oppression and repression.

However, will Gareth Thomas’s story reach the eyes and ears of Ugandans? For those committed to either cause – LGBTI rights or rugby – the answer is a resounding ‘yes.’ Doubtless it may prove fodder for groups who claim homosexuals are taking over in every field. But these people must be thanking their lucky stars that it is not a football star who has decided to live openly. As wonderful as rugby is, it has no where near football’s following in Uganda – or Africa at large.

Thomas himself suggested that statistically he cannot be the only current player who is gay – a principle which surely applies to all sports. Other commentators have suggested that there are homosexuals in football’s Premier League – apparently closely guarded secrets – none of whom have come out. Too much to lose? Doutbless.

But think of how much there would be to gain. Soccer is the beloved continental sport in Africa, not only for entertainment, but frequently used as a development tool to encourage children to attend school, to motivate communities to work together and to raise funds for basic services. More than that, international soccer players are revered throughout the continent. The dangers and pitfalls of hero-worship aside, the emergence of LGBTI soccer players has the potential to normalise sexuality in eyes of a huge number of people – and show that LGBTI people can actually excel in this world and even – if you can imagine – potentially provide children with superb role models. More than that, the open display of a game that chooses not to make sexuality an issue has the potential to show that teams, communities and even countries can function with people who happen to be gay. A blow against Ugandan propaganda.

That said, the burden of the anti-homophobia agenda does not rest on the courage of gay football players. True, they could blow a hole in the aforementioned wall of homophobia, but the fact remains that their private lives – and how much they choose to share – are very much their own affair. Theirs is a game of survival too; the soccer top brass, the all-important cheque writers may not all react as positively as Gareth Thomas’s bosses.

As several commentators have suggested, better altogether if sport – and all cultures and societies – can reach a stage where such an emergence barely causes a ripple, where it is not even necessary. Until such a time, the bravery of public figures will remain crucial; chipping away at the wall.

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Christian Malcolm: Chasing Usain Bolt

John Shepherd — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 18:33:49 +0000

Two hundred metres in 20.08 seconds is fast. John Shepherd caught up with Christian Malcolm to find out just what it was like for the British sprinter to race against Jamaica’s Usain Bolt.

Christian Malcolm has been competing in top level athletics for well over a decade. He won the sprint double at the World Junior Championships in 1988. What keeps him motivated to compete more than ten years later?

“The fact that I feel that I have still not achieved my potential,” he tells me. “The actual love of running, and competing, and the buzz. Nothing comes close to it, as far as I am concerned. I love performing on the big stage. It’s a preparation game. You train for eleven months for one race, and when you do perform well in that race, it’s a great feeling.

I only started training a few weeks back (mid October at time of interview), which is a bit later than usual, due to a few late season races. So, I’ll sit down with my coach, Linford, and probably decide in December or January what I’ll be doing.”

How much do you change your training from season to season?
“In recent years injuries have meant that I have had to change things, and modify plans. 2008 was my first injury free year since 2001. I’ve had hamstring, groin and Achilles injuries in the past.”

What are your strengths as a sprinter?
“I’ve got natural speed. Whereas a lot of other sprinters have a large power base. I’m not as strong, but I have got a good stride length. For me, what is really important is that I have always been able to perform well on big occasions.”

What have been your career highlights?
“I’d say, the European indoor gold and world indoor silver, and European indoor silver and Commonwealth silvers. But funnily enough, there has been nothing that really stands out. No, not really, because I feel that I’ve been unfortunate not to win (better) medals. Although I have medalled in major outdoor championships in the relays, I have not done so, individually. That’s a goal I am still looking to achieve.

If you had asked that question a few years back, I would have said winning the double at the World Junior Championships. This put me on a great platform to move into the senior ranks. But there’s not really so much that I have really been happy with after that.”

With a time of 20.08 seconds for the 200 metres is it burning you to get under 20 seconds?
“Yeah, definitely, it is.”

What do you need to do to get under twenty?
“Stay fit. Stay injury free. I feel that after I have had an injury free year, that I am able to push and build and have a really good next season. So I’ll be looking to get close to my personal best, if not better it.”

Do you prepare mentally for your races, or just turn up and run?
“It’s a little bit of both. Performing at a big events is like performing at a theatre. It’s my stage. We train and train for that one big moment.”

How does being coached by the Barcelona Olympic 100 metres champion work? Does Linford really coach you, or is he more of a mentor?
“Linford ‘coaches me, coaches me.’ He sets my sessions. Mentally, he’s great to have around because he has been there and done it. And I think that anyone who has been around him will realise why he has been successful–because he is so mentally strong.”

What are the toughest workouts he sets for you?

Malcolm Christian laughs for the first time during our interview. “A few of them,” he says. “I started training this week…hmm…15 by 150 mertres, 4 by 400 metres–these are quite tough for the first week back. Then there are the 42-second runs, those are hard. You have to run as far as you can in 42-seconds.

I couldn’t really tell you why 42-seconds. But in that time you’re looking to get to 350 metres. It’s more of a mental thing, rather than running to a mark. You’re running until you stop. It’s important to run through the finish when you race, but there can be a tendency to slow at the line and the 42-second runs encourage you not to do that.”

And what about the sessions you like?
“Block work. It’s always competitive. It’s what sprinters do. It’s fast. It’s intense, and in a session like that the egos are flying, and that’s really good.”

Who else trains with you?
“Mark Lewis Francis has joined the group, Wade Bennett-Jackson, and there are some other younger athletes.”

What weight training do you do?
“For me, it’s all about keeping strong and getting my body together. I tend to do weights for pre-habilitation (injury prevention).”

Okay, so what about Usain Bolt?
You faced the phenomenon in the Olympic semi and the finals. You were fourth to the Jamaican in the semi, clocking 20.25 to his 20.09, and in the final you came in fifth in 20.40 seconds. Over a second behind Bolt’s world record in 19.30 seconds.

“Look, he is phenomenal. People have asked me about what it was like being in the race–and to be honest–it wasn’t great. I’ll probably look back in years to come and say, ‘yeah, it’s nice to be part of history,’ but no, it wasn’t my greatest moment. He is a great talent. He has raised the bar and we’re all going to have to step up.

He is going to put a lot of doubt into people’s minds. But he is going to have times when he is not quite so on song–and that is when we will have to be on our game–and take the advantage.”

Christian Malcolm Fact File

DOB – 03/06/1979
Weight – 66Kg
Height – 1.71m
Coach – Linford Christie

Career Highlights

1998 – World Junior 100m and 200m (gold)
2000 – European Indoor 200m (gold)
2002 – European Indoor 200m (silver)
2005 – World Champions 4 x 100m (bronze)
2007 – World Champions 4 x 100m (bronze)
100m – 10.11 (2001)
200m – 20.08 sec (2001)
60m – 6.64 sec. (2001)
200m – 20.54 (2000)

Christian Malcolm is an Asics athletic Ambassador – for more information visit: www.asics.co.uk

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Christine Ohuruogu: Eye on the Prize

John Shepherd — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 12:42:33 +0000

Christine Ohuruogu, although a house-hold name–after winning gold for England at the 2006 Commonwealth Games, and again, at the 2007 World Championships in Osaka, while being Great Britain’s only Olympic gold medallist in athletics in Beijing (not to mention a suspension for missing three out of competition drugs tests in 2006)–is a bit of an empty canvass to many.

Not much more is really known about the young woman born in East London in 1984 and who has been named the British Athlete of the Year for the second successive season, and was recently awarded an MBE by Queen Elizabeth II. Yet, she will be spearheading Team GB’s 2012 Olympic track and field challenge, and had the small issue of defending her world title in Berlin, when I caught up with her in Los Angeles earlier this year. Prior to starting the outdoor season, Christine had had a good indoor season over 200m, and as she told me, she was in good spirits, both physically and emotionally.

I had a slight advantage over some of the other assembled journalists. Christine’s coach, Lloyd Cowan, was one of my closest friends. In fact, he’d asked Christine to divert my incisive journalism during our interviewed with a random question about Lloyd and I from the deep, distant past. The pressure had been made worse as he had warned me to ‘watch out!’ As it transpired, I needn’t have worried. Christine was a model interviewee. She asked me her question (which shall remain a secret) and then laughed out loud when she couldn’t remember what Lloyd had to her the ‘right’ answer should be. Other belly laughs during our short interview, and a willingness to not take herself too seriously, except when it matters most, reflected Christine’s very genuine and bubbly personality.

We talk about the forthcoming season. “I have goals,” she told me, suddenly serious again. “But my most important one is…and I know this might sound dumb…is to get the World Championships and try to enjoy myself. It’s been so intense over the last three to four years. I think I have achieved more than I ever thought I would have by this time in my life.” I acknowledge her answer and reflect that very few of Britain’s illustrious track and field world-beaters have achieved as much so young. Do you find it difficult to remain motivated and to keep winning, I ask.

Her reply is equally candidly, “Yes. I don’t want to be doing the same thing in 5–10 years, just chasing medals. I don’t think I could do that.” I suggest, albeit it somewhat negatively that losing a major title might not be such a bad thing. So that perhaps her hunger could return, just in time for 2012. “Do you think so? I’m still really hungry,” she tells me. “With me, it’s all about getting to the championships prepared, and then when I get there, I’ll do what I am best at, racing.”

The 400m runner obviously has a steely determination, despite her charm. She knows how to focus and has a great belief in the training that her coach puts her through. “What Lloyd does is keep things (in training) very simple. Basically, he tells me to go out and run and that’s all there is to it. I try to remember when I go out on the track, that I have done the work, and that there is no reason why I should run badly.”

How do you approach the 400m? In the Olympic final, you were well off the lead round the top bend. Did you think you would win? “The race is not over until you cross the line. I study many races, watch videos and assess different split times, to know that nothing is won or lost until you cross that line. You can get to 200m as fast as you can and think that you are winning, but you’ve still got half of the race to go. You can win or lose in a step.

How do you deal with nerves, I ask. “I do get nervous. But when I get on the track, I recognise that I am there to do a job, and every thing happens for a reason. You’re there because you are supposed to be there, and that gives you comfort, in that everything is planed out.” The focus is seemingly always there, and Christine is a real racer, where does this come from? “I believe that track and field is an extension of myself. I like challenges. They gives me that opportunity to push myself everyday.”

The Olympic champion has won three major senior titles but is criticised for not racing that much on the summer track circuit. “People think I prefer championships to one-off races, but it’s not that I prefer them, it’s just that I have not had a lot of one-off races at a high level. When I started the sport, I was thrown straight into a championships (the European juniors) and that’s where I learned to develop my racing. I don’t know anything else. The Athens Olympics in 2004 was again the same. It was my first major championships as a senior. That’s when I tasted the high-life and realised that that is all you need to train for.”

So why the 400m–the toughest of all the sprints? “We had a club race when I was young, and there was no one to do the 400, and I was told to run, just do it and jog round. And because I was nice and polite,” she laughs, “I just went and did it, and won. So from then on, it was the ‘four.’”

Any set backs? I wanted to know. Christine explained that she suffered from Achilles tendon problems in the past, and then there was that one-year suspension for missing those drugs tests. We don’t go into that, enough has been said elsewhere already. She explained that the injury was the result of being an under-nineteen year old England netballer – an operation had sorted out the problem – although years of playing injured had affected her running style.

Laughing at herself, she explained, “I have this strange lopey running style, where I kinda take my time,” but more seriously and worryingly for her rivals, “I know I can get faster and we’re working on that,” she added with a smile.

And those three missed tests in 2006? Well, the ‘story’ has been told and retold many times in the press. It seems to have been a genuine mistake. My friend, Lloyd, confirms it, and some of the aspersions from certain sections of the media do still seem a little out of order. As an international athlete myself, I know that Christine’s performances are within the boundaries of ‘real’ human capabilities and frailties. She has moved on, but the year out was a very difficult time. Lloyd was central to her continued involvement in the sport. “Lloyd is a good guy, and an excellent coach” Christine explained. “It’s rare that you find someone who is willing to put themselves out for their sport and their athletes, as opposed to making themselves look great.”

Christine Ohuruogu deserves superlatives. Bathed in the golden glow of three major titles, like Berlin world heptathlon champion Jessica Ennis, but their is still plenty potential to come from this East London athlete. Blessed with a congenial and down to earth personality, a home victory in 2012 would make her, arguably, Britain’s greatest ever female athlete, and bring her the true recognition that she so rightly deserves.

What advice do you have for people running for fitness? I ask her, finally. “Find a good coach,” she says, “someone you can trust to give you good information, and encourage you. You have to enjoy running and not just see it as something you have to do.”

Thanks to adidas: Whatever sport you are training for it is essential to get maximum benefit by wearing the right kit. Adidas has an extensive range of technically advanced footwear and apparel to help you achieve your impossible.

For more info on the right kit for training visit www.addidas.co.uk

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