Sometimes, the Olympic failures live longer in our memory than successes
Seven steps, five more than in Beijing but the outcome was identical: Liu Xiang's Olympics were over, yet again, before they really began. The magic ingredient that makes the games such compelling drama isn't the stadiums or the crowds. It is their rarity. Once every four years - a gap long enough to make or break athletes.
Peak and attain perfection at just the right time and their names will live in Olympic history books forever. Make the slightest mistake or get hurt when that Olympic window opens once every four years and they might never get another chance to make it right. The opportunities for redemption are so few. For some athletes, they never come. That rarity is what makes Olympic success so sweet, Olympic failure so bitter and it is why we and why athletes, for as long as they can, keep coming back for more.
Liu tasted the sweetness once and, now, the bitterness twice. He may never appreciate this and certainly not while the pain from his Achilles tendon and from his disappointment in London is so fresh and acute. But, sometimes, Olympic failures live longer in our collective memories than the successes.
Name the winner of the women's 3,000m at the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984. I would bet good money you didn't think of Maricica Puica or remember she was Romanian. But the names Mary Decker and Zola Budd should bring the memories flooding back of them colliding, of American Decker tumbling and of her face contorted in anguish as she lay sprawled on the grass while the other runners carried on without her.
A more recent one: the men's 400m champion in Barcelona in 1992? It was American Quincy Watts. But what you likely remember is Derek Redmond being helped across the finish line by his father, Jim, after his hamstring popped in the semifinals. The British runner's determination, dragging his damaged leg, hobbling toward the finish, and his father's support, running onto the track to give Redmond his shoulder, produced one of the most enduring memories of any games.
As our memories of Liu's success at 2004 Athens fade, we'll remember Liu more for his epic Olympic disappointments and the sight of him hopping on his good leg and dragging his bad, both in Beijing in 2008 and now in London.
That is not being purposefully nasty. It's simply because for mere mortals, non-Olympians, it is difficult if not impossible to truly imagine just how sweet it is to be in an Olympic champion's shoes. But bitterness and heartbreak, well, they are things we all experience and can share and which, because of that, sometimes mark us more deeply. Crushing failure is tangible for all of us. Knowing what it feels like to stand on the Olympic medal podium, for most of us, is not.
And that is why the crowd in the 80,000-seat Olympic Stadium clapped for Liu after he pushed out of the starting blocks, took seven steps, clattered into the first hurdle, fell and, a few minutes later, picked himself up and hopped on his left leg the length of the straight to the finish.
Everyone understood his pain. Everyone could appreciate his courage. Many also will have understood that the London Games were Liu's chance, perhaps his final chance, to redeem the disaster of Beijing.
Liu went into those Olympics carrying the hopes of a nation. And for a nation of 1.3 billion people, that is a lot of hope indeed. Anyone who was there will not have forgotten the gasps in the Bird's Nest stadium and how the spectators wept when Liu pulled up lame after just two full strides in his qualifying round.
Likewise, the sight on Tuesday of Liu briefly resting himself on the 10th hurdle, having hopped the length of the track, will stick with spectators in London.
Hungary's Balazs Baji waited for Liu at the finish and raised his hands as though he were the champion. Britain's Andrew Turner and Spain's Jackson Quinonez helped Liu into a waiting wheelchair.
"That's two Olympics in a row he's limped off with an Achilles problem. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. I rate him as one of the best hurdlers we've had in the world ever. I don't like to see that kind of thing," Turner said.
The fact that Liu was wearing the same bib number in London - 1356 - as in Beijing was bizarre, but nothing more than that. His "DNF" - Did Not Finish - on the results sheet then and now had nothing to do with fate and everything to do with the Achilles tendon that has plagued him for years.
"I'm very sad about this outcome but I'm also proud of him, because Liu Xiang, from 2008 to now, has worked bitterly hard to take part in these Olympic Games. He has given so much," said the head of China's track team, Feng Shuyong. "In the struggle with his injury, he has overcome one difficulty after another and got back to a pretty good level, but at the crucial juncture of the Olympic Games he got injured again."
Of course, hopping bravely to the finish isn't why Liu worked so hard. But the bitterness of that, of being unable to right the wrong of Beijing, of those rare, once every four-year chances that evaporated so agonizingly for him, will ensure Liu is remembered for a long, long time.
Peak and attain perfection at just the right time and their names will live in Olympic history books forever. Make the slightest mistake or get hurt when that Olympic window opens once every four years and they might never get another chance to make it right. The opportunities for redemption are so few. For some athletes, they never come. That rarity is what makes Olympic success so sweet, Olympic failure so bitter and it is why we and why athletes, for as long as they can, keep coming back for more.
Liu tasted the sweetness once and, now, the bitterness twice. He may never appreciate this and certainly not while the pain from his Achilles tendon and from his disappointment in London is so fresh and acute. But, sometimes, Olympic failures live longer in our collective memories than the successes.
Name the winner of the women's 3,000m at the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984. I would bet good money you didn't think of Maricica Puica or remember she was Romanian. But the names Mary Decker and Zola Budd should bring the memories flooding back of them colliding, of American Decker tumbling and of her face contorted in anguish as she lay sprawled on the grass while the other runners carried on without her.
A more recent one: the men's 400m champion in Barcelona in 1992? It was American Quincy Watts. But what you likely remember is Derek Redmond being helped across the finish line by his father, Jim, after his hamstring popped in the semifinals. The British runner's determination, dragging his damaged leg, hobbling toward the finish, and his father's support, running onto the track to give Redmond his shoulder, produced one of the most enduring memories of any games.
As our memories of Liu's success at 2004 Athens fade, we'll remember Liu more for his epic Olympic disappointments and the sight of him hopping on his good leg and dragging his bad, both in Beijing in 2008 and now in London.
That is not being purposefully nasty. It's simply because for mere mortals, non-Olympians, it is difficult if not impossible to truly imagine just how sweet it is to be in an Olympic champion's shoes. But bitterness and heartbreak, well, they are things we all experience and can share and which, because of that, sometimes mark us more deeply. Crushing failure is tangible for all of us. Knowing what it feels like to stand on the Olympic medal podium, for most of us, is not.
And that is why the crowd in the 80,000-seat Olympic Stadium clapped for Liu after he pushed out of the starting blocks, took seven steps, clattered into the first hurdle, fell and, a few minutes later, picked himself up and hopped on his left leg the length of the straight to the finish.
Everyone understood his pain. Everyone could appreciate his courage. Many also will have understood that the London Games were Liu's chance, perhaps his final chance, to redeem the disaster of Beijing.
Liu went into those Olympics carrying the hopes of a nation. And for a nation of 1.3 billion people, that is a lot of hope indeed. Anyone who was there will not have forgotten the gasps in the Bird's Nest stadium and how the spectators wept when Liu pulled up lame after just two full strides in his qualifying round.
Likewise, the sight on Tuesday of Liu briefly resting himself on the 10th hurdle, having hopped the length of the track, will stick with spectators in London.
Hungary's Balazs Baji waited for Liu at the finish and raised his hands as though he were the champion. Britain's Andrew Turner and Spain's Jackson Quinonez helped Liu into a waiting wheelchair.
"That's two Olympics in a row he's limped off with an Achilles problem. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. I rate him as one of the best hurdlers we've had in the world ever. I don't like to see that kind of thing," Turner said.
The fact that Liu was wearing the same bib number in London - 1356 - as in Beijing was bizarre, but nothing more than that. His "DNF" - Did Not Finish - on the results sheet then and now had nothing to do with fate and everything to do with the Achilles tendon that has plagued him for years.
"I'm very sad about this outcome but I'm also proud of him, because Liu Xiang, from 2008 to now, has worked bitterly hard to take part in these Olympic Games. He has given so much," said the head of China's track team, Feng Shuyong. "In the struggle with his injury, he has overcome one difficulty after another and got back to a pretty good level, but at the crucial juncture of the Olympic Games he got injured again."
Of course, hopping bravely to the finish isn't why Liu worked so hard. But the bitterness of that, of being unable to right the wrong of Beijing, of those rare, once every four-year chances that evaporated so agonizingly for him, will ensure Liu is remembered for a long, long time.
- About Us
- |
- Terms of Use
- |
-
RSS
- |
- Privacy Policy
- |
- Contact Us
- |
- Shanghai Call Center: 962288
- |
- Tip-off hotline: 52920043
- 沪ICP证:沪ICP备05050403号-1
- |
- 互联网新闻信息服务许可证:31120180004
- |
- 网络视听许可证:0909346
- |
- 广播电视节目制作许可证:沪字第354号
- |
- 增值电信业务经营许可证:沪B2-20120012
Copyright © 1999- Shanghai Daily. All rights reserved.Preferably viewed with Internet Explorer 8 or newer browsers.