Beijing by the numbers
Record reporter Josh Brown has been following Guelph athletes in China for the Mercury. This is one of his final pieces from the Beijing Olympics.
By Josh Brown
Record Staff
BEIJING
Call it a reporter’s decathlon.
Get to 10 different Olympic events across Beijing in one single day.
Impossible? Maybe. Crazy? Certainly. But that was my goal at the Summer Games Friday and it all started with the buzzing of my alarm clock.
6 a.m. — I jump into the shower at the media residence and, for the 17th consecutive day, smile at the sign slapped on the porcelain tiles that reads: “Warning, wet floor.”
6:45 a.m. — My bag goes through security just fine but the guards make me take a swig from my bottle of water, just to prove it’s not a liquid bomb. No lie.
7:27 a.m. — I arrive at the National Stadium for the men’s 50-kilometre walk but it’s fenced off. I panic, then realize the course extends out of the stadium right past me. Now I have a front row seat. Score. Soon the walkers emerge and France’s Yohan Diniz is in first. I shout “Allez! Allez!” in support. One event down, nine to go.
7:55 a.m. — On the bus to women’s field hockey. The first ride of many. To my surprise, the bus stinks like cigarette smoke, a first at the Games. Nothing like the aroma of nicotine first thing in the morning.
8:31 a.m. — Press seats are under the scorching sun. A kind volunteer brings me a cold bottle of water. I toss a Canadian pin her way. The stadium is a third full and many “fans” are actually volunteers wearing white shirts. I think back to all those clips of locals lining up for hours to buy tickets earlier this summer and wonder if it even happened. Marsha Marescia puts South Africa ahead of New Zealand 1-0 and I’m out the door.
9:23 a.m. — The bus to beach volleyball is a few minutes late and a reporter from Atlanta is complaining. Ironic because the 1996 Games in Atlanta are considered one of the worst run Olympics ever. Brits here still talk about the day they missed a gold medal win after a bus driver went two hours in the wrong direction.
10:16 a.m. — I arrive at beach volleyball to find two inflatable mascots competing at centre court. The place is packed and going nuts. I’m confused. But then 12 beautiful women in bright red bikinis stroll out to dance for the crowd and it all makes sense. Mist machines activate and cool the sweaty crowd. Mist, bikini dancers, music. I have found my new favourite event. Oh, the U.S. beats Brazil for the gold.
Noon — A quick stop for lunch. I’m already feeling weak and I’m just three events in. I load up on pasta for the carbs and guzzle my third bottle of water. Back to the bus station.
1:30 p.m. — The fans are out in full force for boxing at the Workers’ Gymnasium. A wealthy looking Russian climbs out of a black luxury car with tinted windows and enters with a blonde bombshell on his arm. But it’s Cuban Andris Hernandez Laffita who edges Russian Georgy Balakshin 9-8, scoring the winning point with mere seconds left in the bout. A great venue with a Vegas-style ring that sits well lit on a lush blue carpet.
2 p.m. — No sun screen this morning was a big mistake. I’m gassing large. Another bottle of water goes down. A power nap on the bus helps a bit. How am I going to make it? I’m not even halfway yet.
2:34 p.m. — The bus to ping pong, er, table tennis, is ready and waiting. Maybe this is the break I need.
3:02 p.m. — No empty seats at the Peking University gym. Table tennis is China’s hockey. It’s singles quarter-finals and the fans give an enthusiastic “ooh-ooh” every time the ball is hit in long rallies.
3:40 p.m. — All these bus rides are taking their toll. I get to team synchronized swimming just in time to see the end of the final routine. Is it just me, or does that Martin Short synchro parody skit pop into your head every time you watch the sport?
5:06 p.m. — I’m supposed to be at men’s water polo. Instead, I’m dropped off at the modern pentathlon. I have no idea this sport existed. Then I read it is comprised of five events — shooting, fencing, swimming, show jumping and a 3,000-metre run. Did someone put all the sports in a hat and draw five? Anyway, this portion is the show jumping. One horse, Jingjing, was not in a good mood. Pulled up lame before four jumps on one run. Ouch.
6:14 p.m. — Three more events to go. Off to handball, a cross between basketball and soccer. It kind of reminds of lacrosse too. Looks like a lot fun. Why don’t we play this in Canada? What, we do? Oh. This game between Croatia and France is a rough one. Guys falling all over the floor.
7:31 p.m. — Across the street to the Aquatic Centre for men’s 10-metre platform diving. You couldn’t talk me into a cannonball off the top tier, let alone a handstand on the edge. Not good with heights. Big respect to these dudes.
8:20 p.m. — A quick bite to eat. The stir fried celery with my dinner turns out to be bitter boiled melon. I throw up a little in my mouth.
10:01 p.m. — The finish line is here. I walk down to the stands of the National Stadium to see 90,000 people doing the wave. Canada’s 4x100-metre men’s relay team comes in sixth. Jamaica — who else? — takes gold. A fitting ending to a long day. From walking to sprinting and eight events in between.
By the numbers it went down like this: 17 hours, 11 bus rides, 10 events, eight venues, seven Canadian pins doled out to volunteers, five bottles of water consumed and zero phone numbers from beach girls.
And as I type this final sentence, a look at the clock shows one hour until midnight. That means the media bar is still open and there is a nice glass of red wine waiting with my name on it.
jbrown@therecord.com
