Tuesday, August 24, 2004
THE BUCK STOPS HERE
Am on what will surely be the last stage of my fly-by-day visits –Bhopal it is fittingly and on the verge of making good too. The weather has been just short of magnificent—was sorely tempted to spend more time on the tarmac as gusts of wind-swept rain lent a quiver of chill through the elements. I have always wondered about the exact date when I will actually spend time outdoors to my heart’s content, rather than writing about it. I have under a week to go and just about time to start wrapping up proceedings here in Churchgate.
Have lost count of the drug cheats and what was construed to be an Eastern bloc phenomenon is now a study of the finer arts. Just ruminating over the idea of what if we ab initio legalise the whole affair—as in no tests, no garbled talk of steroids, THG and everything else. The defenders of the faith will of course scream from the rooftops on the loss of Olympic ideals, it matters not who wins but how you played the game, the unbridled joy of Eric Moussambani and what have you. Does this change anything ? Perhaps not.
My mental records of the worst players to win biggies in tennis is lengthening by the hour—Nicolas Massu, winner of two golds, wow. Chile has always done well in team competitions, though.
Just to recapitulate, the list has Thomas Johannsson, Albert(o) Costa, Malivai Washington, Medvedev, Nalbandian—maybe my abject inability to accept that the game is too open to call these days. 16-14 still takes some doing, even in doubles and a tad sad that Lee & Hesh had to settle for 4th place.
A wretchedly verbose talk show on why we fail at the Olympics on some channel the other day-what’s the point ? Almost like the Ardha Kumbha where some miserable souls die every time.
Two virtual unknowns winning the 100m—even the commentator hadn’t heard of Nesterenko ( called her Nesterkova ) and the got-Gatt Gatlin—great race. My theory of lying low and then springing seems to be working, albeit risky
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Am on what will surely be the last stage of my fly-by-day visits –Bhopal it is fittingly and on the verge of making good too. The weather has been just short of magnificent—was sorely tempted to spend more time on the tarmac as gusts of wind-swept rain lent a quiver of chill through the elements. I have always wondered about the exact date when I will actually spend time outdoors to my heart’s content, rather than writing about it. I have under a week to go and just about time to start wrapping up proceedings here in Churchgate.
Have lost count of the drug cheats and what was construed to be an Eastern bloc phenomenon is now a study of the finer arts. Just ruminating over the idea of what if we ab initio legalise the whole affair—as in no tests, no garbled talk of steroids, THG and everything else. The defenders of the faith will of course scream from the rooftops on the loss of Olympic ideals, it matters not who wins but how you played the game, the unbridled joy of Eric Moussambani and what have you. Does this change anything ? Perhaps not.
My mental records of the worst players to win biggies in tennis is lengthening by the hour—Nicolas Massu, winner of two golds, wow. Chile has always done well in team competitions, though.
Just to recapitulate, the list has Thomas Johannsson, Albert(o) Costa, Malivai Washington, Medvedev, Nalbandian—maybe my abject inability to accept that the game is too open to call these days. 16-14 still takes some doing, even in doubles and a tad sad that Lee & Hesh had to settle for 4th place.
A wretchedly verbose talk show on why we fail at the Olympics on some channel the other day-what’s the point ? Almost like the Ardha Kumbha where some miserable souls die every time.
Two virtual unknowns winning the 100m—even the commentator hadn’t heard of Nesterenko ( called her Nesterkova ) and the got-Gatt Gatlin—great race. My theory of lying low and then springing seems to be working, albeit risky
