A Guy’s View: Jumping the gun is a false start

“Anybody can jump a motorcycle. The trouble begins when you try to land it.” Evel Knievel.

It had been a long journey to this day. Four years of hard work – blood, sweat and tears. There had been many long days and nights of training and practice runs. A special diet demanded that the foods she loved had to be sacrificed.

It had also taken a toll on her family. Time that could have been spent with loved ones had to be given up and instead, lonely days dedicated to preparation became the normal routine.

In addition, she had made the rounds to all the wealthy persons in her sphere. Travelling to major games was an expensive exercise and much effort was employed in raising money for travel and accommodation. She had convinced them that their contributions would not be in vain and when she was successful, their rewards would be great.

Walking into the athlete village had its own energy and nervousness. It was one thing to think of one’s opponents while in training, but to be assembled with them, either under the same roof or next door to them, placed one on edge.

Some of those who would race against her were very different from her in attitude. Some had as much braggadocio as she did. Maybe they were trying to psych her out as she was trying to do to them. Others were just as fast as she was, but not as sure of themselves, so they were less effusive. She had no doubt that she could beat them, if only because of their lack of confidence.

But there was one opponent who was quiet and almost self-absorbed. There was no swagger. No wasteful words. No pretentious prancing around. Just speed. The times told the story. That athlete’s record spoke for itself. Nothing seemed to phase or unnerve this one person and there seemed to be no way to pierce that reserved exterior. This would be her main challenger.

She tried to put this silent lightning out of her mind. She was confident in her own ability, but she knew within herself that she was not as good as she tried to let on. However, she remained positive.

Her positive thoughts and bragging among friends may have fooled those who believed in her, but the reality was that many of those who would be arrayed against her were as confident in themselves as she was. Still, she thought it wise to parade in front of the world in the hope that she could create a chorus of support and have the many voices help to intimidate her opponents. But that was wishful thinking.

And then the big day came. There was no turning back now. It was now or never. The stadium was packed and the excitement in the crowd was at fever pitch. In the warm up area, she deliberately strutted in the face of her opponents. This, she thought, would convince some of them that they had no chance. She knew that if they lost their confidence before the race they could never be at their best when the gun went off.

She was hoping to get the attention of the one she thought of as silent lighting, but the silent one ignored her. It was as if she did not exist.

When the race was called, although she was to run out of lane 2, she broke the line and was first onto the track. She was determined to play her mind games to the end. The crowd cheered widely when she jumped and skipped all the way to the starting line.

The starter called out, “On your marks”. She went first into her blocks, kicking like a thoroughbred race horse against them to ensure that they were firmly in place. The others joined her and waited for the next instruction.

But before that instruction came, she jumped from her crouching position and ran about five steps in fine style. If the silent lightning had not noticed her before, this was her last chance to get into the lightning’s mind. Others got up and stretched their legs. The silent lightning slowly got from the crouching position and took a short walk towards the rear of the starting line and waited for the prancing to stop.

Again the starter called the athletes to take their marks. All eight starters were back in their blocks and assumed the position.

“Set”, the starter said.

They all rose in readiness, waiting for the gun. Suddenly, before the gun went off, she took off like the bullet that never left the gun. The entire stadium watched in amazement as she ran almost a quarter of the track, all alone, for the race had not yet begun. Her supporters gasped in disappointment and disbelief. How could she have false started in the Olympic Games after all the hard work and the hype?

The other athletes got up again and stretched and waited for the official start of the race. With no outward sign of defeat, she went back to the starting line to be officially told that she had disqualified herself by jumping the gun.

She had performed well, but not when performance was needed. She had played her part in selling the games, for her pre-race boasting had done much to draw attention to the games. In the build-up she had announced to her sponsors that the next time they saw her she would be the Olympic champion. “I will not come back to address you unless I am the champion”, she had told them. And they believed her.

Her disqualification was followed by the excuses of her supporters and the pundits who had said that she would win the race by 27 strides. They had announced that she had no competition. The pundits were careful to interview her supporters and broadcast their preference as if it were the state of affairs, having no regard for the work and quality of the others in the race.

Although many of the pundits had a history of wrong predictions, this did not prevent their audience from lapping up their prophecy. They were sure, however, that if she had waited until the race started before running, she would have won. We will have to await the next games to know the answer to that question.