Mediocre Race

I'm glad that when I
have just finished
a mediocre day at work
TV crews don't stick their
cameras and boom-mikes
in my face
and ask me how I feel about it.

Chad le Clos

This is the only way to take victory:

choking back tears

like they are the dreams

you have finally caught up with

trying to escape.

You have just beaten

Michael Phelps

The Best Swimmer

in recorded history.

You are the tiger who sobs

for the dove between his jaws.

You stand on the podium

higher than your hero

you can truly love him now

your arm touches him

now, and there is a new power

and a new smile

in the sopping globes

of your eyes.

We are humans

And we cannot help but rank.

We are humans

and we cannot help but worship.

He is the swimmer

and you

are a mournful fish

Who swims joyously in his wake.

Federa v. Del Potro

Two morose giants

battle it out.

Potro has slightly nervous eyes

And a small serious mouth.

He plays like a cannon.

Federa looks like some merchandise of himself

but he plays like a genetically engineered

storm.

They fight calmly,

toing and froing

in an arduous geological process

that somehow retains equilibrium.

I must go out. I’ll just wait for two more games, and

then I’ll go.

An hour later, and the bank is going to close.

I leave.

I can remember,

I’ll say to my grand kids,

When this match began.

Nicola Adams

She is fighting for me

For everything that has happened to me

for all the shitty days I’ve had.

She even threw a few for the mediocre days too.

That Cancan bitch represents

a whole army of shit that has surrounded me

all those swampy tiring feelings

all those terrible bureaucracies

the bullies

the rejections

the snubs.

And Nicola Adams

is a hero, made of light

she appears

in a moment

and darts into the ring

and pulverises

everything bad.

Cancan?

Cancan’t more like.

Bye bye Red.

Join a river of blood

Nicola is here.

In tremendous flurries

smash her

smash her

Nicola

release me.

Shin A-lam

                 

You were robbed by a technocrat.

“The Korean Team cannot accept this situation.”

But they can accept it far more than you can, for

in the end didn’t they strictly respect Olympic procedure

with their official complaints and their appeals?

You abandoned all decorum

and all precedent

as you sat there

for 40 minutes.

Sitting, crying

and refusing to move

is the primordial protest.

Children do it, lovers do it.

Those responsible are lost. They

stand there, holding a tea-towel

trying to talk the protest round

but finding only more protest.

You see, frustration reaches a point

where it simply cannot abide a moment longer

and in an exothermic reaction

must decompose

into anger

or sorrow.

For you it was sorrow,

gentle sorrow.

You sat on the edge of the stage

and cried.

Serena Williams

She is so fierce

So solemn

So dignified

That she would make The Predator

feel like the spoilt, silly little boy he is.

When she plays

it is like she is playing because

someone has kidnapped her parents.

She may respect her opponent

but she must crush her.

Serena Williams

is a real lady, a real person

a real competitor, a serious

presence in the court.

She is gravity itself, her face

is an arrow headed for the

heart of victory, her belly

is decision, her limbs are light

and heavy at once, like dark clouds.

Her eyelashes are blades

and her eyes are dying stars

with just enough light left

to conquer her ancient nemesis

in his million forms,

then dance.

Noble lady of the court, tell me this:

what kind of villain would I have to be

for you to take up a blade

pursue me to the brink of my evil

then nod, just once, and acknowledge me

before you run me through?

Serena

kill me.

Michael Phelps

Giant man

Lovely face

Lets send him

Into space.

Usain Bolt

If you weren’t the fastest guy alive

You would sound like a right dick.

More Gymnastics

Yusuke Tanaka

Fucked up his landing

and the punishment was severe

because suddenly Japan

who had sat in a silver shadow

for the whole game

slid to 4^th.

Tanaka watched the screen

knowing it was his fault.

He gave a heavy sigh

letting air out slowly from his cheeks

like his face was a balloon that had set out

to traverse the earth

but had deflated above some rainforest

and sunk gracelessly below the treeline.

Similarly,

John Orosco did a really, really bad jump

and ruined the United States chances

of winning anything.

He looked like a child

whose prank had gone badly wrong,

breaking his kid-sister’s arm.

The United States love winning so much

while Japan are not keen on displays of emotion.

It was because of these things, I think,

rather than any difference between Orosco and Tanaka

that one sighed

and the other cried.

Gymnastics

There is a man from China

hanging from a bar. He is revolving and spinning

and turning and swapping hands and swapping

direction, flying up in the air. The momentum

could easily carry him deep into the crowd

or over the threshold of some kind of record.

If it was a CGI sequence, you would think

it was unrealistic. You wouldn’t believe it.

The commentators, as well as saying

stuff such as "Ah yes, the double double"

are saying that this is a scrappy performance.

He has made some arcane mistake

with his hands. I didn’t notice

but the commentators noticed

and the judges noticed

and he noticed.

Everyone is surprised as his performance becomes

ever more frenetic

ever more ambitious.

He knows now he has nothing to lose

and is uping the game.

I am terrified as

this is not a game

that can be safely

uped. He wheels

almost out of control,

then lands

perfectly

proud

arms

out.

Taekwondo

Watch the Taekwondo

and just have a look at the referee.

Take the away the two armour-plated women

jiggling and trying to kick each other in the head

and you have yourself a contemporary dance piece

of awkward beauty, strange grace, and androgynous

sexiness.

She bends, she stoops, she does a darting half turn, and her tie is still straight.

Occasionally she emits a dangerous but controlled syllable.

If I were ever to be married

I would want a Taekwondo referee to officiate.

Andy Murry

Andy Murry

Birdman of Dumblane

you are not perfect

you are flawed.

We do not worship you as a hero

we love you like a brother

who steals bread to feed us.

These nations are almost too heavy for you

the weight of our eyes

looking to you hungrily

is almost too much to bear.

But somehow

you are flying.

Judo

Judo

I’m not sure what they are doing,

but it is a mighty struggle.

Eva Csernoviczki

has lost a fight

and now she wrestles a small

kindly looking woman.

The loser will be out for good.

Eva gets her head bashed, hard.

But she has won.

She smiles

like mother who has won a raffle

(except that she has hero’s blood

all over her teeth).

Imagine

Imagine

I met an old fella today

and he recons

that Federa let Murray win.

Do you?

Would he?

Could he?

It certainly looked like he did.

I didn’t say it at the time because

was worried like I would sound

like an amateurish sport-watcher.

Imagine if he did though…

what a LOVELY guy.