The nearest I got to Olympic glory was the national development
squad for the 1988 Commonwealth Games triathlon team, from which I withdrew prematurely
with what my coach insisted on calling a ‘spectacularly ill-timed
pregnancy’. Perhaps that's why I ‘backed the bid’ for London
2012 and signed up as a volunteer long before I began to ask critical questions about
what the Olympic brand actually means.
Even in an Olympic year, almost all sports hold a world championship as well. The
Olympics are less about finding a champion than about putting on a sporting mega-event
— which, if you'll forgive a dose of sociological jargon, is defined as
a:
‘… ritualized, rationalized, commercial spectacle and bodily practice that creates opportunities for expressive performances, disruptions of the everyday world and affirmations of social status and belonging.’1
Since the days of ancient Athens, the Olympic Games have been an opportunity for society
to celebrate the aesthetics of the perfectly-honed human body (to this end, the athletes
competed in the nude). And they have also long been oriented to celebrating an ethical
ideal — everything that is good and pure and fulfilling about competitive sport
and those flawless, focused individuals who take part in it. Anima sana in
corpore sano.
But the Olympics are also about access, and denial of access, to the training,
facilities, and social and technical networks that underpin sporting achievement. They
involve powerful vested interests whose marketing advisers understand the commercial
significance of the Olympic brand (my Gamesmaker experience is sponsored by —
among others —McDonalds, Cadburys, and various companies with alleged
‘unethical’ investments). Scratch the surface of this brand and
uncomfortable questions emerge about race, sex, country, class, and, most of all,
politics. As we saw in Tokyo (1964), Seoul (1988), Sydney (2000), and Beijing (2008),
there is no better way for a country in social and economic transition to flex its
muscles than through the rapid, on-schedule construction of state-of-the-art facilities,
new transport links, efficient logistics, carefully-choreographed supporting ceremonies,
and a high-profile development initiative for a designated
‘underprivileged’ group.
Some have argued that the Olympic brand is now so tied to the logic of capitalist
modernity that the spectacle of sporting excellence is achieved at an unacceptably high
moral and political price. ‘Boycott London 2012’ is a social movement
gathering pace, though its list of reasons to do so (occupation of Afghanistan, refusal
to return the Elgin marbles, inappropriate choice of venue for certain minor sports) may
strike some people as eclectic.
Soon I will attend my first training event, pick up my Gamesmaker uniform, and confirm my
shifts as a GP at the Olympic Village GP-led health centre. While the
‘pro’ and ‘anti’ lobbies continue to debate what the
Olympics is really about, I suspect I will be gainfully occupied seeing athletes who
have run out of their inhalers, developed a fever, or require postcoital
contraception.