Dilemma: Sequins In Sport

Faster. Higher. Stronger.

Without hesitation or modesty, I confess that I am one of the world's least sportiest people. Having said that, I believe I have potential as a world-class spectator; probably not a Gold Medallist in UnAthletics, but in the newest Australian tradition, I'd be a good shot at Silver or Bronze. In the Post-Modern Pent-Spectatathon, I excel at Couch, Food, Armchair Opinions (Uninformed Category), Instant Expertise and Recreational Napping.

In any case, after a solid fortnight of watching the London Olympics, I have a simple question: If it requires sequins, is it still sport?

More specifically, what is Olympic Sport? Many sports have come and gone from Olympic competition since 1896. What is the criteria? What should it be? Are we, the Olympic-viewing public of more than 200 countries that compete, happy with the selection of sports the IOC serves up?

I think most of us are satisfied most of the time, particularly as regards the core Olympic sports: Track & Field, Swimming, Artistic Gymnastics, Diving, Equestrian, Cycling, Weightlifting, Boxing, Greco-Roman Wrestling. The team sports are all over the place: there are some professional athletes (Basketball, Tennis, Soccer) but mostly amateurs (Volleyball badminton, table tennis, handball, water polo, beach volleyball). Don't forget the target sports: shooting and archery, the martial arts: TaeKwonDo and Judo, the regattas: rowing, sailing, canoe and kayak.

I accept that every one of these sports is a genuine sport; whether they should be included as Olympic Sports is an entirely different question, which we'll get to later.

And then there's Synchronised Swimming and Rhythmic Gymnastics: The Sequin Sports. I'm not convinced that anything requiring sequins and theatrical makeup is a sport. I also have reservations about competitions that are judged by people rather scored by an objective measurement of faster, higher, stronger. We've seen examples in winter skating sports of how this can be open to corruption, or how judging criteria can be interpreted differently.

So why am I picking on Synchronised Swimming and Rhythmic Gymnastics, when Artistic Gymnastics, Diving and even Trampolining are judged rather than measured? There's no doubt that the Sequin Sports involve extraordinary fitness, strength and co-ordination, comparable to that of an Olympic Athlete. I don't question the dedication of the competitors, either. So why do the Sequin Sports feel out of place, when I accept Artistic Gymnastics, Diving and even Trampolining with far more comfort?

Artistic Gymnastics was included in the first Modern Olympic Games. It's earned it's place. Trampolining is a great spectator-friendly addition, although I'm not sure it's a sport all by itself. Why not include the trampoline as another Gymnastics apparatus, alongside the floor, the beam, the horse, the rings, and the uneven bars?

Diving is similar, with over a century of Olympic inclusion, and standards that continue to stretch the sport.

Synchronised Swimming and Rhythmic Gymnastics were both introduced as Olympic sports in 1984, and are relatively new as recognised sports, even outside the Olympic sphere. Being "new" is not reason enough to exclude them though.

A line needs to exist that separates sport from entertainment. No, I'm not invoking the slippery-slope argument; one isn't "better" than the other, and Olympism (which I hesitate to consider a word) is not sinking into populist mass entertainment. I don't know how popular Rhythmic Gymnastics is with the general public, but I do know that Synchronised Swimming is one of the most mocked activities around. Despite their magnificent athleticism, there's an image, a focus on appearance that seems false. It can be mesmerising to watch, but I'm still not convinced it's Olympic inclusion is justified.

There's a fuzzy area in the middle between pure sport and pure entertainment where these judged sports exist. My preference to draw the line at the sports side, and omit anything that requires sequins.

The IOC is like any other government, and is vulnerable to lobbying, although they require that in order for a sport to be considered, it must be played in 75 countries across 4 contiments. Being an Olympic sport is the ultimate recognition for a sporting body. Other sports have come and gone: baseball and softball are no longer Olympic sports, neither is Rugby Union, although it will be contested in Rio in 2016.

Tennis was played in 1896, then dropped when tennis players became professionals during a time when Olympic competitors had to be amateurs, but was reintroduced as a fully fledged Olympic Sport in 1992, where professional tennis stars get to compete for medals rather than millions. In 2016, Golf will be played as an Olympic sport, taking the total number of Olympic sports played in Rio to 28.

The list of Discontinued Olympic sports and Demonstration Sports is fascinating, ranging from Angling to Motorsport to Hot Air Ballooning and Kite Flying to Polo and Tug of War. Add to these a list of sports which are recognised by the IOC, but which are not Olympic sports: these include Orienteering, Dance Sport, Cricket and Chess.

None of this answers the original question though: why are Sequin Sports included in the Olympics? The answer is, believe it or not, to promote gender equality in Olympic Competition. In the 60s and 70s, the height of Womens Lib, more men were competing than women. Synchronised Swimming and Rhythmic Gymnastics are the only two sports that are not open to male competitors, although some men do compete in both of these sports, just not at the Olympics. Sequins Sports are there to even up the numbers.

While I encourage women who aren't as wedded to their couch-life as I am to get involved, sports that are women-only don't sound like they should be in the same sentence as the word "equality", and the image those competitors portray doesn't do the cause of equality much good either.

It's time for the IOC to re-evaluate the competitor gender ratio, and consider whether Synchronised Swimming and Rhythmic Gymnastics are the best way to promote equality.

Mostest, Dumbier, Ignoranter

“...With the twisty turningness, it looks a lot closer than it does.”

- Eddie McGuire, 2012

A little over half way through the London 2012 Olympic Games, Australia is a nation of bewildered sports fans. How is it possible to be so proud and disappointed and disgusted and delighted all at the same time?


Try asking Eddie McGuire or Ray Hadley. Their attempts to answer the question will be all the answer you need. Expect to hear collections of syllables grouped into word-like verbal farts that carry meaning only to those on drugs. There will be groups of true, recognisable words assembled into an order that would make Strunk and/or White weep. And there are comments, well thought out, ably executed, which are completely nonsensical, and others designed to be as offensive as possible.


We have the very best expert commentary available from experienced athletes who've been there: Susie O'Neill, Liz Chetkovich, Robert DeCastella, Lucinda Green, Matt Shirvington, Lisa Forrest... They may not have the vocabulary or ease behind the microphone, but they have common sense, and seem to be able to behave themselves while the "professionals" sound second-rate.


And yet, this Olympics, the coverage is literally better than ever before. We have nine or ten channels bringing us live pictures of Olympic events through the night. I say nine or ten, because I don't know whether to count Nine and its digital echo as one channel or two. Foxtel has eight dedicated channels. There's even a 3D option, but does anyone even own a 3D tellie?


Even in 2D, our pictures are in brilliant high definition, with ultra-slo-mo action to showcase every fresh bead of sweat on the world's best athletes, all against the ghastly pink and purple and blue bunting of London 2012. We even have social media to bring us each moment from every angle, with commentary from the athletes themselves. This is quite simply the best ever coverage of an Olympic Games in history.

And the worst.


Channel Nine and Foxtel have taken Boofhead Commentary where it's never been before. I doubt that some of the talking heads could graduate from primary school. Aside from the never-ending massacre of spoken English, there are other challenges for these overhyped hosts.


Eddie McGuire has been getting into all sorts of pain with his "R"s, particularly during the Women's Marathon. He simply could not pronounce Australian runner Jess Trengove's name correctly. More often than not, he attached an extra "R" after the "G", making the second syllable "Grove" instead of "gove". The word "Performance" got the McGuire treatment too, becoming "preformance" more than once. Should we be surprised? Of course not: this is the same television personality who hosted Australia's "Who Wants to Be A Mooyonaire" for several years.


Apparently maths can be troublesome too, even when the sums can be completed on the digits of one of Homer Simpson's hands. The hosts have computers to provide the important information about athlete performances, records, splits, reaction times and twist velocities. They don't have to calculate much themselves, or even remember much. It's the basic mental arithmetic that throws up the challenges for these guys.


“There are our five leaders: two Kenyans, an Ethiopian and a Russian."

- Eddie McGuire

Ray Hadley isn't likely to be considered a statesman any time soon. He's adequate when it comes to calling the swimming races, but he should leave the geography to the high school kids. Several times, early on in the swimming competition, he must have seen the country abbreviation "CZE" and flashed back to 1992, duly announcing various swimmers as being from Czechoslovakia. Czechoslovakia is a country which ceased to exist twenty years ago. Perhaps being accurate doesn't matter to Mr Hadley but it matters to the Czechs and the Slovaks who formed separate nations in 1993, and to the athletes representing those two countries now.


It's a rookie mistake. Mr Hadley is not a rookie, not that you'd know that from his fascinating attempts to pronounce Kyrgyzstan. Not everyone can be George Donikian, but a commentator at the world's biggest sporting event should get the countries right, at least. (It's Keer-gis-tan, by the way.)

Mr Hadley wasn't satisfied with passing out accidental insults to Europeans; he needed to get in someone's face. Yesterday's Sunday Telegraph ran a story about Mr Hadley making friends with another commentator who asked him to sit down during Emily Seebohm's 100m Backstroke Final - a reasonable request to ensure that everyone could see. Over the course of 24 hours, Mr Hadley's response included a few choruses of "Fuck off", one verse featuring "You French Fuckwit..." (the European was Belgian, not French), one "Piss off you Belgian Pest", and a surprise solo from backing vocalist/sidekick Rebecca Wilson with "He told you to fuck off, so fuck off."


I've been unable to locate Foxtel Employee Code of Conduct, but I imagine it's similar to other corporate Codes of Conduct. I'm confident that telling a commentator from another country to fuck off falls far short of acceptable behaviour. There's a good chance that it could be seen as Workplace Bullying, and as such would be a sackable offence.


Meanwhile, both McGuire and Hadley are repeat offenders in calling female competitors "girls". Here's a free tip for them: Don't do that. It makes the female athletes angry.


Here's another free tip for Mr McGuire and Mr Hadley: let the BBC pictures and the expert athletes do their jobs. Unless you're being paid by the word, speak as little as possible.

The Happiness Olympics

In the past 12 months, I’ve heard three respected medical professionals - a GP, a psychiatrist and a psychologist- recommend that people who suffer from depression should avoid news and current affairs. What does that say about our news? Perhaps we're all nearing saturation point when it comes to bad news. We should be: it's unrelenting.

A quick browse through internet news sites on a typical day is nothing short of dismal: most days, there’s not a single good news story amongst the headlines. Not one. It’s bulletin after bulletin of politics, wars, bad news about the weather, the economy, the state of tea in China, plus murders and mayhem, refugees, redundancies, deaths, taxes…and if you watch the so-called Current Affairs programmes after the news, you’d be losing the will to live.

The situation may improve once you get to the Sports section. There are always winners, even if your team wasn't one of them. But brace yourselves. The sports news is making its regular leap from the back pages to the headlines. That’s bad news in itself if you’re not interested in the Olympics, but for those who are, prepare for sixteen days of uninterrupted thrills.

As Aussies, should we be expecting two weeks of triumphant sports headlines? Should we be begging our mental health experts to let us watch the Olympics and celebrate every win with a quiet cup of tea and a civilised ‘whoop’, or should we hide ourselves under a pile of old Buffy DVDs until the whole thing is over?

Even if the thought of 16 nights of Olympic competition brings you out in a rash, there is some incredible human competition coming up, and it will be slathered all over the headlines and social media. Resistance is futile. It’s already started with Natalie Cook’s threats to protest if the Australian flag bearer is not a woman, and has been followed by some typically tasteless comments from Eddie McGuire about Lauryn Mark’s pictorial in a mens’ magazine, to the entirely offensive comments about Leisel Jones being in less than race form. But if you’d rather watch jelly set than a moment of Olympics coverage, you will need to avoid the media from now until about 14th August.

I know what I’ll be doing. I’ll be ignoring the quasi-militaristic undercurrents of Olympic cults and cash grabs that the IPA’s Chris Berg wrote about in last weekend’s Fairfax papers, and I'll be yelling at the tellie. I love the Olympic Games. It’s the ultimate spectator festival – enough sports to satisfy just about everyone, peerless national fervour, unrivalled opportunity to perve on the kind of bodies we could have if we weren't so devoted to the couch, along with a little culture and a little cringe mixed in.

Luckily, my partner shares my love of the Olympic spectacle. We'll be studying the tv guides; including Pay TV, Australians will have ten separate Olympic broadcast channels. We'll have our viewing preferences colour-coded in the guide with fluro highlighters. My alarm is already set to go off at 5:30am on Saturday in preparation for the live telecast of the Opening Ceremony, accompanied by something appropriately British for breakfast. (Probably not kippers - other suggestions welcome.) For two weeks, we'll sit up all night, and sleep during the day - yes, both of us are on leave for the Olympics.

It’s a tragedy that there’s no non-sporting equivalent for the rest of us who can’t run like the wind or leap tall crossbars in a single bound (preceded by a decent runup). With the notable exception of artistic sports like gymnastics, synchronised swimming and some equestrian events, sport tends to be measurable and absolute. We could convene a world Cooking Olympics or Drama Olympics or Haiku Olympics or Customer Service Olympics or Landscape Oil Painting but how would you judge it?

The great thing about being a fan of the Olympics – and I suppose a fan of sports in general – is that it celebrates achievement. Traditionally, Australian Olympians are strong in Swimming, Hockey, Cycling, Rowing, Sailing and Equestrian, and these are all great spectator sports. Of course we want to see Australia win, but when we don’t, we see our Aussies try. We get to celebrate, and regardless of how many or how few medals Australia wins in London, we will be proud.

And in between the news of Aussie triumphs, personal bests and inspiring performances, there'll be more of the usual. In Queensland, Premier Newman will continue to wield his axe, hoping the Games will wipe his bad news off the front pages. In America, Obama and Romney will continue their campaigns for the Presidency. Prime Minister Gillard's rivals might just be able to keep their powder dry until after the Games. In Syria, revolt will continue and in Afghanistan, so will the war. Asylum Seekers will continue to board rickety ferries in search of a better life in the Land Down Under. Life and death go on, but probably not on the front pages.

That sounds like something that mental health practitioners would support.


Note: This blog is not medical advice. If you are being treated for depression, don't stop your medication and watch the tellie, okay? Equally, if you think you might be depressed, please see your GP as soon as you can. You're not alone.

Swimming with Guns

We've bred an entire generation of confused people, and the next generation is on the way. It's not because we allow gay health posters in bus shelters or because we legalised same sex civil partnerships or because of some progressive watermelon agenda to turn us all into lovely little communists. Its not even because of the Carbon Tax.

It's because we are totally inconsistent.

"Bad boy" swimmers Nick D'Arcy and Kenrick Monk are being punished by the AOC for posting on Facebook and Twitter a silly picture of themselves holding an armload of firearms. Oooh-Aahh, they've (possibly) brought themselves and their sport into disrepute, so they won't be permitted to use social media while at the London Olympics, and they won't be allowed to attend the Closing Ceremony. As punishment goes, barely more than a stern talking-to.

In other words, some uptight sports administrator thought the photo might be a bit controversial, so jumped up and down. It turns out that Australians aren't offended - or even interested - in these young blokes or their photos, but now that the noise has been made, token punishment must follow.

So did D'Arcy and Monk do something silly or not? I don't think Swimming Australia or the AOC can make up their minds. Having said that, the two sports organisations are the punch lines of the jokes, while the athletes have public sympathy on their side. International media is reporting this "scandal" with an appropriate degree of incredulity.

I particularly enjoyed the jokes about the Australian Shooting Team being suspended after posing for photos in a swimming pool, holding goggles and flippers.

Contrast this with the photo of Queensland Minister for Computers & Creative Bits and Pieces Ros Bates holding onto some kind of military mega-gun that looks like it could take out your house. Nary a whisper from her employer or her boss, Premier Campbell Newman.

Opposition Leader Tony Abbott is also the subject of controversial photos with a gun. While visiting our troops in Afghanistan, he allegedly asked to have a closer look at some of the weapons, a request probably not met with joy by the army brass. Still, the photos are there. The media didn't pay a lot of attention at the time, and later, it was overshadowed by the other media event of Mr Abbott's visit: Shit Happens.

Photos of our last four decades of Prime Ministers handling firearms are virtually impossible to find.

Many people go through their entire lives without touching or firing a gun. The swimmers were holding firearms that were legal; Ms Bates and Mr Abbott were holding a weapon not available outside the military. If you're a young adult watching the news, what message do you get? Is it:

A. Don't touch guns in America
B. It's okay if you're a politician but not if you're an athlete
C. You can handle guns if you're with some soldiers
D. Swimming Australia and the AOC are a bunch of uptight sooky lalas
E. Do whatever you like, but don't post the photos on Facebook

Why are Swimming Australia and the AOC over-reacting? Is the problem with their athletes handling guns, or posting the proof on social media? It's all about perception, and protecting reputation of Swimming Australia and their naughtiest athletes.

By the way, the answer to the question above is D.

Queensland versus The World

It's Rugby League State of Origin week. For League fans, the State of Origin Games weeks are the biggest weeks of the season. These matches are tough, cliche-filled mini-dramas where everyone with even a passing interest in the game takes sides, dons a colour, drinks beer and yells a bit, at least here, north of the Tweed.

It's Queensland versus New South Wales, "Mate versus Mate, State versus State", Maroons versus Blues, Cane Toads versus Cockroaches. 

In Queensland, businesses are draped in maroon and white bunting, balloons and banners, office workers wear their prized maroon footy jersey to work over their shirt and tie or blouse, and the war cry is "QUEENSLANDER!!" So ubiquitous is the Queensland obsession with State of Origin that people who aren't swept up in maroon fever are mocked, insulted, shunned.  Of the 900 or so people that I follow on Twitter, the number to confess their disinterest in the sporting event is in single digits. Brave Susan Hetherington did; she knows the territory all too well.    

Many Queenslanders would be amazed to learn that the same level of obsessive state fanaticism just doesn't exist south of the border.  Sure, footy fans wear blue to the match, and get together to watch the game, yell at the tellie and share a few beers, but you won't find many offices and shops festooned in blue. In New South Wales, a State of Origin match does not equate to state pride on the line. The morale of the entire state doesn't hinge on the final score.

Queenslanders take a great deal of pleasure in taunting their New South Wales friends and colleagues when the maroons win State of Origin (which they seem to do most of the time). Take a hint from a transplanted southerner: save your breath, the don't care that much.

Queensland parochialism is a force of nature.  There's a maroon-hued unity within this state that I've never seen anywhere else, in any colour. When a Queensland sportsman wins anything of note, it's a headline.

There's a line, though, and while I respect the Queensland state pride, that line is crossed far too often, particularly by media. Look at individual sports like tennis, golf, surfing and swimming. Some of these sports have national teams, so when competing at international level, those athletes are representing Australia. They are wearing the Green and Gold. The cry from the stands is not "QUEENSLANDER!", it's "Oi Oi Oi!"  Too often, the Queensland media report these victories by describing the victorious athlete as a Queensander.

"But they are Queenslanders!", I hear you argue. 

Yes, they are, but when representing Australia, can we introduce them as such, as leave the state affiliation to the second sentence?

I recall during the Beijing Olympics four years ago, pumped up Queensland journalists breathlessly reported Queensland's Olympic medal tally. It wasn't a sidebar, or a feature on the success of Queensland athletes in the Australian team. It was just the way some maroon-hearted reporters presented the medal tally. 

Here's a note, up front of the London Olympics. Queensland doesn't compete in the Olympics because Queensland is not a country.

Of course it's appropriate to count up the number of Olympic medals won by Queenslanders if that's the point you're trying to make, as was the case in the Quuensland Parliament after the Games, but surely we can agree that if you're an Olympian representing Australia, your medal is an Aussie victory, first and foremost?

I fully expect to be challenged on this, by Queenslanders, by media, by you: why shouldn't we be proud of our state? 

We should be proud, and we are. Still, Queensland state pride often seems over the top, particularly in comparison to...well...everywhere else. The fact that nowhere else does state pride like Queensland does is something else we can be proud of. 

But what's behind it? Is it a response to having been mocked for so many years for not being as big or successful or trendy as New South Wales and Victoria? Is it an attempt to reclaim some pride after the Fitzgerald Enquiry painted the Sunshine State as more shonky than shiny? Is this intense maroon frenzy just a group reaction to our own inferiority complex?

I think it is. This is Queensland, constantly having to prove ourselves. It's part of who we are. For those cooler weeks in footy season, Queensland becomes QUEENSLANDER! This is our personality, our image, our colour scheme, our obsession. And for those three games per year, that's okay.

I wonder what Queensland is for the other 49 weeks of the year?