From The Sublime To The Ridiculous To The Sublime To The Ridiculous Again

I love sports, playing, watching, coaching, discussing, reviewing memorable moments. I have had a lot of all of that over the past two weeks. I wont go into the details but will focus on what I can take from it all as a viewer and someone who cares about how sports and sportsmen and women develop and comport themselves.

The Sublime: Jamaica's Usain Bolt winning the double 100/200 metres at the World Championships, and doing it again with new world records; the Jamaican team did the expected and won the 4x100 metres relay, helped by the Americans' repeated failure to understand that the baton is part of the race.

The Ridiculous: The furore over South African runner, Caster Semenya's sexual make up (see Times report). Yes, it matters if she is more part man if she is entered against athletes who are supposed to be all woman. But, you have to reflect on the timing and tastefulness with which officialdom dealt with this. Some friends of mine say it's good that intersex will rule and somehow think that ah hermaphrodite can compete well with men. No way. He/she may have more ability than an average/excellent woman but will still be less than an excellent/average man. If this goes on, and we know that the body has its own natural balance, we may need to develop a 3rd category for sports. Any takers for 'undecided'?

The Sublime: I thought I had seen all of the great things that Switzerland's Roger Federer could do on a tennis court. That was until I say 'the shot' last night. Watch the video and let the action speak for itself.



He has made some other stunning shots but to do this to get 'break point' in a semi final is like a dream for a player. It takes lots of practice to do trick shots well and the luck is having the chance to play them at crucial moments.

The Ridiculous: This has to be the Serena moment of lack of serenity in the women's semi-finals at the US Open. I have only seen the replays of how the younger Williams sister melted down. People say a lot about the brashness of this American athlete, who is more 'in your face' than most. She's called other players out for 'cheating' and reminded them that she is from Compton. No excuses for her losing her cool, except that a key call by an official at a key point in a match is not trivial. When the player is convinced that the call is wrong then sense goes: replays show that Serena was right and the official wrong. But, so much was mishandled at the time and I wonder whether it would have been too much for the chair umpire to have used her microphone to issue a verbal warning so that the player would stop and think. Things happened slowly enough for a lot of preventative actions. I hope that after this incident, replay will be used for foot faults, which are bizarre;y defined and also odd as the only call in tennis that is left to one official and is not able to be overturned by the chair umpire. (see the video). If you want to see how the matter could have deteriorated look back at the infamous night match between Ilie Nastase and John McEnroe: McEnroe is the one not saying anything.

The Sublime: Barbados' Ryan Brathwaite winning the men's 110 metres hurdles final in Berlin, in a national record. He created history as the country first gold medallist in a major international meet.

The Ridiculous: The inability of the Barbadian delegation to react to the fact that he had the fastest semi-final time; he had a new national record in the semis; and the reigning Olympic champion Dayron Robles had fallen in his semi and was out. So they had a few hours to organize themselves to be at the finish line to hail at least an expected medalist. But, no. They camped out in their box near the 200 meter start and when the boy won they did not have a soul nearby to cheer him or give him the now obligatory flag for display. Way to stand up for the nation! When he reached near their nest out came a flag (I wont say from where it came as that too is embarrassing). Now, the boy is being lauded and there will be ticker tape style welcome for him on Thursday. Ask any Bajan if they had heard of Ryan Brathwaite before the competition and I will be all that I have you get more 'no' than 'yes'. Remember that this country's TV company did not see fit to buy the rights to show the championship. But if you do not understand how it is that a country does not produce many great athletes just look at how the administrators maladminster at all levels. Any one want to make a comment about Jamaica? Tek weh yu self!

You Be The Bun. I'll Be The Cheese. Wait. Where Is My Jacket?

I have nothing against women who are amply sized--sounds like amplified, which could also apply. I wish I did sometimes. Today, I was pleasantly surrounded by a few such females. No gender tests necessary, at all, and that's not because they are Jamaican not South Africans. But, as is the way with gender equality, no sooner had we agreed that this could turn into a good sandwich, with hard dough bread on top and bottom and a piece of good sized cheese between, than the two baker's daughters decided to throw the dough out of the window. "We no need no man! Is all a oonu mash up de world!" I really don't know what had been said but I saw fingers pointing at me and the husband of one of the would be sugar dumplings. We two men looked across at each other, and gave a 'I do not know them' look at each other.

So, what to do? "Look, is you did want fight over who goin' be on bottom and who goin' be on top. I was happy to be in de miggle," I said, trying to reassert something, though not really sure what. "No. We nah bizniz wid dat nuh more. We dun wid you. We go lie side by side, and see where you go put yu cheese then." So, this is how it is when the elements of love are placed in the area of televised coverage of track and field? The course of modern true love seems to last as long as a Bolt down the track--a mere 9.58 seconds. Time was, and it was in the pre-Internet days, that true love lasted around 7 minutes. Is that increased or reduced productivity?

I tried a few insults. "Yu is no hard dough. Yu is dry biskit. No. Yu is rough an dry, like Ryveta." I could see them struggle with the idea that they were crisp, and not kneaded. That kept them quiet.

Interest in the television was less intense than yesterday. The Bajans were hoping for more medals but we had to tell them that none of their athletes were in the events today. We saw the medal ceremonies, though for Usain and Ryan--you notice how fast we become friends with the sprinters. We watch highlights of the men's 4x100 metres relay...and once again, the US team had forgotten the small print: the baton needs to be exchanged withing the 'zone'...so they are out. Is relay practice optional on a US team. Dropping or failing to pass the baton should be their sport--they are getting so good at it. Pshaw!

Then we had two bits of excitement, well less so, as Veronica Campbell'-Brown's legs (and her sick foot) could not cope with Allyson Felix's, and settled for silver. The 'blue riband' event of the day say Leshawn Merritt--the true black American--beat off again Jeremy Wariner--the nearest white man to be a black man in the 400. So, that's the double--Beijing and Berlin: two Bs or not to Bs.

We boys looked at our hard dough. It had now risen to become bun. So, we did the smart thing and went to get our jackets. We done.

Jamaicans shock the world again, but prove they are human.

For double Olympic champion, VCB, aka Veronica Campbell-Brown, it was not to be another gold medal. The ladies had a mix up in the 4x100 metres relay, and could not make the exchange in the restricted area: it's not easy in the pressure of a race, no matter how many times you practice. No shame. Some regrets. They were holding alive an almost impossible dream: Jamaica victorious in the short sprints and all the relays. So, rue the mistake but look at the big picture: a wonderous Olympic Games, with indvidual and collective performances unlikely to be repeated for years.

So, we will have to make do with the gold in the men's 4x100 metres relay, and another world record for Jamaica and Usain Bolt. This was THE gold though for 'the real big man', Asafa Powell. This was gained by team effort and it showed. Look at the picture and add your own words. They run for different clubs but have one cause--victory. There are already a multitude of images of the runners from this week and this too will be seen many times. I know that in Asafa's heart and mind there is both satisfaction and relief.

But, what we love--I will speak for myself--is to see Lightning celebrate, like a true Caribbean man. Staying faithful to himself and his culture. And in case you ahve any doubts about that latter aspect, PM Bruce Golding told the critics of Bolt's celebrations that they were "full of grudgefulness" and "full of red eye" and should "Tek weh you self!" (see Gleaner report).

The world knows Jamaica for many bad things, and some good--like the music and the 'no problem' attitude, and the laughter and the excitability. "Bolten" is a word that has come into the vocabulary, as in "Bolten stance"--see the Lightning. The world now knows dances that are popular in Jamaica--the 'gully creeper' and 'nah linger'--thanks to Usain. People have enjoyed themselves. Horror! Some IOC bureaucrats don't like Usain's 'attitude'. Get over it!

We have long talked the talk. Now we can really walk the walk...and dance the dance.

Usain, mi love you.

Usain Bolt's performances in Beijing during the past seven days have electrified athletics, and peoples' reactions to sport. Most seem to love what he represents. A young Jamaica poet has written how she has been smitten my Usain, and her marriage is quickly heading for the rocks. Her husband may need to bolt her down before she bolts. A friend shared with me the poem below. If you are an English speaker but cannot understand the Patois, just read slowly and all should come clear. If you are not an Anglophone, you have the gist of the poem above: go to Jamaica, eat plenty of yam and dumplings, and your tongue and ears will soon adjust. Trust me.

Usain Bolt And Mi

By – Joan Andrea Hutchinson

Usain mi dawlin, mi just want yuh fi know dat sake a yuh, mi marriage almost mash up di odder day, because a piece of jealousy teck my husband.

Well wah never happen in a year happen in a day

Mi kyaan believe mi eyes

Ever since Usain Bolt win di Olympics 100 metres

Fi mi husband start exercise

Yuh tink a lickle talk mi a talk to him

Bout how him belly a get big

Mi tired fi tell him how him a get waggaty

An start to fayva pig

Mi spend mi money sign him up a gym

Steam vegetable gi him every day

Him suck him teet an say “Man must have guts”

And galang him merry way

But when Usain Bolt win di Olympic 100 metre gold

An mi start fi scream

“Usain Bolt mi love yuh, mi love yuh, mi love yuh

Yuh fulfill mi wildest dream”

Mi run up an dung inna di living room like mi mad

All liddung pon di floor

Mi say “Usain, a long time no man no excite mi so

Mi ago love yuh more and more”

Right now mi have picture of Usain Bolt pon every wall

And one beside mi bed

One pon mi t-shirt, two inna mi purse

And a Usain Bolt inna mi head

Usain Bolt full mi up wid so much pride

Mi doan even waan fi eat

And when mi talk bout how him body look good

Mi husband say mi sound like mi a cheat

Him mout long up and say mi have young bway nature

An a long time mi love mawga man

When mi tell him say Usain Bolt just meck mi feel good

Him say mi a behave like more dan fan

Him bex like bullfrog di odda morning

How mi gi him di breakfast cold

Sake a mi a watch di rerun a Usain a gi dem donkey length

Fi win di 100 metre gold

Dem show di race again when mi a cook di Satiday soup

Mi gi out “What a mawga man can run”

Mi dis hear “it come een like say sake a dis mawga man

Mi an mi Satiday soup a get bun”

Well Usain mi dawlin, dem say who bex lose

So mi say later fi him

But one ting mi know all of a sudden him start eat healty

And find himself a gym

And between mi an yuh Usain, him proud a yuh big time

But mi dear, nuh watch no face

Yuh name write pon mi heart dat Satiday when yuh get di gold

Inna di Olympics 100 metre race

joanandreahutchinson@chat-bout.net

Jamaica to the world.

I cannot keep up with this. Arriving in Barbados at just after midnight, I had just a few hours sleep before I had to be ready for another final. I am a long-time athlete and I know that good rest before major races is important. So, in a half-dazed state, I got down into the blocks of my armchair, got set with the remote, and fired the remote. I hit the curve at the same beat as Veronica Campbell-Brown, as her heart beat to the melody of "We are the champions...of the world" and she took the gold in the women's 200 metres--sorry, retained HER gold medal, and with a new personal best of 21.74 seconds. What a haul in the 100-200 sprints, getting 5 out of six medals. All that is ever expected in a major event is that you run your best. Bway, Jamaicans have really done that.

Kerron Stewart, coming in third, just outside her PB, but with legs tired from 8 rounds of racing, must be disappointed but still elated.

As today wears on, the sprinters have to get ready to make real history and win all four gold medals. What a thing that would be. Jamaica forever remembered in history.

Everyone is putting on "Bolten" poses. Athletes are smiling and joking in front of the camera. Having real fun is usually part of the closing ceremonies, when all the stress is over. But Jamaica, and especially Usain and Shelly-Ann have said in their way "Get up. Stand up." China has taken Jamaica to its heart and what a birthday song they gave Usain.

Goose bumps are all over me and I know over some of my friends. Every playing of the national anthem is an exercise is futile self-control. Cry I must and cry I will.

What a day.

Blogging events in real time has been my new venture of the past few weeks, and during my latest sojourn to Jamaica it has been wonderful sport.

I have just travelled to the capital, Kingston, after watching the second Lightning strike, for 200 metres gold and new world record--taking the formidable Michael Johnson's record set in Atlanta in 1996. Some of my friends will remember that I said last night that it would fall today.Bolt now becomes the first man to break both world records in the process of becoming Olympic champion. By the way, the last man to hold both records at the same time was also a Jamaican, Don Quarrie, in 1975.

The world was having a discussion about whether Usain should have run through the 100 metres. The youth said last night that he had no time to think about time in the 100, but would think about it in the 200--and you see what you get. The man-child runs the full race and has the lunge at the tape with his nearest rival so far out of the picture that it was like a man racing boys, except it was the man-child winning. So, detractors, move on, please. This is a rare and extraordinary talent that has been that way for the best part of the past 6 years, breaking records and winning titles in his favour 200 metres. He runs and has fun. Strange? It may not last, but love it while you can.

Spare a thought for the drama of the "also rans". Wallace Spearmon, a good buddy of Bolt's (who was given some post race dancing lessons by the youth), came in third with19.85 but was disqualified for running out of his lane. Churnady Martina came second in what he thought was a new national record of 19.82, and a first Olympic medal for Netherlands Antilles, but was also disqualified after the US protested. So, US runners Shawn Crawford (defending champion, and running 19.96) and Walter Dix (19.98). Why don't I like that US protest, where they lose one medal but gain two? Bway, some people gravalicious.

In Jamaica, we love to make noise in celebration, so pot covers were being banged in sleepy Mandeville, in the countryside. I went to the bank ATM and yelled "Time to gi' we free money!" Everyone was looking for someone to hug. Cars were flashing headlights. Security guards were waving rifles--not quite like a gun with a rose in it, but a sign. Some Jamaican media commentators in Toronto for tonight's World Cup match between Jamaica and Canada, told of how they were nearly ejected from their hotel as they banged on the walls. New songs are already being aired, that hail the exploits of the new Olympic champions. Office workers in Kingston jumped in the street and some of them are now too hoarse to talk. Not enough pre-Olympic training, and next time the nation has to prepare itself well for all the celebrating.

I had to hurry out after the Bolt struck, as I had a flight to catch. But a call soon came in to tell me that "We get anotha' gold an' anotha record!" This time, Melaine Walker, taking the women's 400 metres and setting a new Olympic record, and for her a new personal best. Another product of a Kingston "garrison" community. I wait to see if our three girls in the 200 metres can sweep again.

I called my little daughter, who is spending summer with grandma in Nassau and asked her if she had seen the runners. "Yes," she told me, "And I yelled, 'Me is a Jamaican!'" Go girl! Make me proud. Her grandma was sad that this time the Bahamians seem to be getting little or nothing.

Everything changes once you are a champion. Now Bolt is a prized asset and his sponsors are getting more than could have been expected. Puma, the footwear company that sponsored Usain, got minutes of free ads after the shoe Bolt used was flashed lovingly in front of camera after the 100 metres, and sales went up by about 2 million over the weekend. What price now to get a double Olympic gold medallist and world record holder to run at a meet? Not wanting to seem mercenary may be hard. Already, the public is talking about how “we all go get a piece o’ de foreign exchange de yout go bring…” Nike sponsored Asafa and are still waiting. Adidas sponsored Tyson Gay--better luck next time. Americans are rightly worried about jobs going abroad and we see another area where globalization is helping developing countries.

Further down the sports food chain many budding athletes are no where near getting more than personal pride. My cousin, a doctor, and alumni of Manchester High School, has been helping them with equipment: nicely tapping friends and associates to “offer” some help—boots, uniforms, services. This kind of support is needed for a long while because there are few structures that support even the very good to get to be better.

Will the feel good factors last? Already, we can see how we get shown up. Politicians are expected to find money to repair roads in the districts from which the Olympic stars come, not least to have a decent road for their arrival. But some areas are pointing out that they don’t even have piped water, so soon after or before the roads that needs to be addressed. The poverty of government is also going to get its time in the spotlight. When Shelly-Ann Fraser’s mother said “Nuff good can come outta ghetto” you have to remember that nuff bad been done by no-care government and criminals. Sporting success alone cannot make up for those drawbacks.

In the end, I spent most of my day in Norman Manley airport waiting for my flight back to Bim. It was due to leave at 2pm, then was delayed till 4.45, then delayed again till 7.15, then delayed again till 8.45. I’m a season traveler so I know my rights, and at around 4.30, I said to Air Jamaica “Is whe’ me food dey?” With the J$600 (US$ 8.50—nuff money dat inna Jamaica) voucher s in hand I could lovingly embrace my sweetheart—a chicken fricassee and pumpkin rice dinner, with cola champagne. I even get to watch the World Cup qualifying football from Canada. That’s how visitors to the nation of champions can celebrate. We can be sufferers, too.

Naturally, the soft frenzy that had been evident earlier was not so apparent at the airport, especially as time wore on and I felt like Tom Hanks in “Terminal”. All eyes and hearts are waiting to see if Jamaica can sweep the women’s 200 metres, and how the relay teams will fare. Oral Tracey, a TV sports broadcaster, surely has his broom ready to show how we did the sweep.

If I never get to Barbados tonight it wont be a day that I will regret for that. It's perfect day to have been stranded in Jamaica, land that I love.

Yea man!

Bolt smashes the 200 metres record, and runs 19.30 seconds, and I told people last night that it was going to go. Him run and no chest thumping, but a real thumping of the track world. I screamed and jumped like a maniac.

I have to run to the airport now, 2 hours away, and I hear that street parties are planned in Kingston. I may not leave the islands but for that I would have not one regret for every minute that I have spent here for the last 2 weeks.

As we are all saying, gun man mus' pu' down you gun now.

Did you see how Bolt showed Spearman how to do the nuh linger and gully creeper dance. Sweet. One world. One love.

Yea man!

Treating the people better.

Nice to hear that Scotiabank Jamaica are flying Asafa's father and brother to Beijing to be there to give him support, as reports are that his spirits are low.

Nice too to hear that Digicel Jamaica are flying Usain's father to Beijing to be there for the youth's birthday on August 21.

Nice to see Jamaica National Building Society giving congratulations to Shericka Williams for getting silver in the women's 400 metres.

Why mi Asafa so bad.

A Jamaican friend of mine is suffering deep psychological trauma, diagnozed as "recurring-Asafa-has-turned-in-another-defeat" (RAHTID) syndrome. The symptoms have developed throughout the day since this morning's first human wingless flight in Beijing. Reactions have included a violent sneezing fit brought on by the mere mention of the words Bolt, Usain, stupendous, incredible, or references to sprint double. So, we had to escape and try to drown her sorrows in the sandy oasis called Hellshire Beach, just outside Kingston, where we were immersed in some seriously mystical Ital herbal medicines, which some smoked, some inhaled, and others watched being administered. We also took some rustic cures that involved lobsters, fried fish, fish soup, and roasted breadfruit. The morose expression and lassitude were reversed only by the presentation of a fried lobster, whose spines reminded her of Bolt's legs and she loved breaking every single one with her teeth. However, no sooner had the symptoms begun to dissipate, than there would be yet another excruciating replay of the 100 metres final, and new treatment was needed.Where you gonna run? Where you gonna hide?

She is still "kinda frass", as Jamaicans say, meaning pretty frustrated, that her heart-throb has once again let her down by not bringing home the gold medal in his speciality event. She is not yet consoled that another Jamaican will dance his way back with this in his hand. Yes, Bolt's performance was electrifying, but the shock of Asafa's defeat needs many days of healing.

She was tired of all the "bad mouthing" before the Games that Asafa cannot handle the pressure of the big international events. Now, she is even more weary as this continues after the latest defeat. One of Jamaica's great athletes, turned commentator, Grace Jackson, was fanning the flames last night by saying that Asafa now needs to "go back to the drawing board" and have "mental training" for how to run in the big events. I have a feeling that my friend is going nuts and would like to do to Miss Grace what Jesse Jackson said he wanted to do to Obama. Her face says "Woman, you wan' me draw board cross you mout'?"

Asafa is not helping the healing of this syndrome with his admission that this time he did not have the legs to run four rounds at the Olympics. What him a train for? Getting eliminated in the semis? Cooyah! I'm not sure how you can go to the Olympics and win in four rounds if you only have legs for three. His mother is unwittingly supporting the nay sayers by admitting that Asafa does not like pressure, but added that he seemed to have had the pressure taken off him with the pre-race hype over Usain. Plenty of Jamaicans will wonder if Asafa is playing ginnal. We may need a long time to bolt down the real problem. I believe Asafa genuinely struggles on the biggest stage--hard to explain, but the results point that way. But, my friend is not being run down by these blips. She is still going to watch him wash his cars in the drive way, be ready to give him imaginary back rubs, and love him up till the next big test.

Jamaica launches weapon of mass destruction.

Usain took off, and has landed at his target: Lightning struck for the first time as Bolt went airborne and landed at 9.69 seconds (6 and 9 are lucky numbers for the Chinese). He took off and raced for about 50 metres, got his two metre lead, then started celebrating from about 80 metres. If he had not beat his chest so hard from that point he might have been closer to 9.5. Then after the celebration, he went into the gully creeper dance. Wow! Can he be caught for the double?

A real emotional hug for Asafa for not making a medal place. The family had been interviewed on TV while watching the race, and I know they are heart broken and disappointed. That was really too hard. As the family says, though, "We love you the same way. We gonna hug him and give him a big kiss."

For Michael Frater, he broke the 10 second barrier, with 9.97. Jamaica looks to be a lock for the 4x100 metres relays, if the team can pass the baton.

Triniman Richard Thompson stuck in there for silver (does he have Jamaican roots?), and pushed the lone American, Walter Dix, into bronze medal place.

Jamaican women looked likely to get three into the final and have a runner who looks and acts a little like Usain. Bolt yourself down for more excitement.

Will Lightning strike in the same place twice?

Bloggers are always told that they need to post material regularly so that their audience does not have to deal with too much emptiness in its life. I don't want to build up dependency, in myself if I do not write, or in my readers if they do not have rivetting material from me to read. But, when I go to Jamaica, several things seem to happen. First, I think a lot--usually in the clear, still, cool hills of Mandeville as I walk in the mornings. Second, I eat a lot: Jamaican food that I crave comes at me from all sides, and I have a hard time saying "No", even to simple dishes such as patty and coco bread, or breakfast classics such as mackerel rundown (cooked in coconut, with yam, breadfruit, banana, and "Johnny cakes" [fried dumplings]). Third, I try to notice differences between the ways that things are dealt with in Jamaica compared to other Caribbean islands. Fourth, I enjoy just chilling out.

This break in Jamaica has been a bit different because I have become absorbed in the fever of the Beijing Olympics. My thinking has been mostly about the things that make for a great athlete and wondering about the wide differences in the way that societies and countries view and treat athletes, sports and games. In addition, I have eaten and chilled out a lot, including in the rarified air of Strawberry Hill, in the Blue Mountains outside Kingston. Cooling out in one of the hideaways of Bob Marley and other reggae greats is good therapy: "No woman, no cry".

While much of the world has been bemused by the Michael Phelps phenomenon in his "Razor" suit in the swimming pool--is he man, is he fish?--and whether he can do seven times seven of gold medals and world records, we in Jamaica are interested but not rivetted. Jamaica is on the verge of a seeing an amazing dream realized. It has the two fastest men in the world running in Beijing to try for gold. For me, the real problem is that there are no certainties, so I have to endure seeing one man who is clearly capable of running faster than anyone else and with amazing ease, have to go through the hoops of heats and later rounds. You can't help but think "Something bad is going to happen. I can't watch." You get especially nervous when the man from Palau, with a personal record of about 11.4 (a time I ran as a boy) makes a false start and raises the risk of our man (over 2 seconds faster) getting the boot if he then has a false start--a rule that is so stupid and open to manipulation.

Usain Bolt (aka "Lightning") looks like he has all the goods. He is a 6 feet 5 inch man child, who hit the world when he won the 2002 World Junior Championship, as a 15 year old, right on home soil in Kingston, Jamaica. He smashed the national schoolboy record for 400 metres, by nearly one second in 45.4 seconds, months later. He now walks the 100 metres, while others huff and puff, and records times under 10 seconds like it's in slow motion. Like America's Michael Johnson, he could easily have become an Olympian 200-400 doubler. Instead, he headed down in distance. Maybe, he may move to try the 100-200-400 treble, when he grows up. People in Jamaica wonder if "Lightning" should be running against horses instead of humans. The adrenalin level was under control until the track and field started last night. Since then, the island has been rocking to the cadence of fast feet running in China.

Jamaica has a good compliment of athletes due to perform on the track, mainly in the explosive events such as the sprints. Coming into this Olympian year, we already had our Hercules. We had the world record holder in the short sprint, Asafa Powell. He looked a good bet for the final if not the gold, but he had a record of "underperformance" in the big finals ("Asafa too sof'...", or "Asafa, we a suffer" comments were often heard), so would have only one way to get that fragility monkey off his back--win the gold. Then buddum. Up strides "Lightning", whose coach wanted him to get in some speed work to help his 200 metres running. Whoops. New world record of 9.72 seconds. Since then, almost every time "Lightning" bolts he is a man apart--barely a man at 21. So, the bolt is naturally quick, and the 200 should be a lock (unless he gets a muscle pull or cramp, or one of those sneak thieves catch him with a false start), or his urine sample has the structure of a stallion.

So far, everything is going to plan; the main men are through to the semis. Jamaica may have to deal with an influx of scientists and nutritionalists if we sweep the 100 metres (yes, we have a third athlete who is a contender). Everyone will want to know what we do to produce these kinds of runners. Culture? Running as slaves to get away from Massa's whip? The food? We all love those great starches like yam, dumplings, cassava, boiled green bananas. We fill up on natural vitamins from all our fruits and their juices (mangoes, pineapples, bananas). We move easily to our rhythms that everyone wants to try to emulate. We have our easy, and easy to mock style of hurry up: "Soon come...never reach", "No problem...", "Cool runnings..." We are quick to get excited.

The sports commentators on TV are struggling even after a week with the 12 hour time difference. They have come up with little that is brilliant in terms of insights. They have had good practice in pronouncing the names of athletes from places like the Ukraine and Uzbekistan, and know that the Maldives are not something that happens in the swimming pool. But I think all of this gloss with shatter if tomorrow, in the final, Lightning strikes gold for the first time. If he and Asafa make 1-2, then "Lawd!". If we sweep, clear the streets because we are going to party.