Olympic Glory…

Posted by on Aug 19, 2016 in Blog | 0 comments

Since the start of the Olympics I have noticed that there has been a drop in the number of page views of this blog. Sigh… Such muddled priorities. But then, as they say, if you can’t beat them, join them. So here is a post on the Olympics…

Actually, you’ll quickly note that it was written during the 2012 London Games – and is about to appear as one of the readings in my latest book (which comes out next month, and is already available for pre-order) – Could this be God? Bumping into God in the Everyday (BRF, 2016). This book is a little different from my others being written fairly tongue in cheek, and intended for a wider audience – and not necessarily a Christian audience, though it intentionally tries to point to faith in a winsome way.

So here is what I wrote about Olympic Glory back in 2012…

I’m writing this in the midst of Olympic drama. James Magnussen has missed out on Olympic gold by one hundredth of a second. I ask you, four years of gruelling preparation and then to miss the target by such an insignificant fraction. What would have made the difference? A few extra hours of training, avoiding that second helping of cheese cake, plucking his eyebrows a little more thoroughly to avoid drag in water? Who knows with such teeny margins. But make no mistake about it, that one hundredth of a second will always matter. It’s the difference between forever being an Olympic great, and an almost great. After all, in trivial pursuit quizzes they ask who won gold, not who managed silver.

True, the tender hearted around the world will be outraged at this blunt assessment, and will remind me that just getting to the Olympics is a major achievement… One that I never managed… Though I can boast that I was one of four who represented my state as an under 10 gymnast forty five years ago – remember that if you are ever asked who came second in the Natal under 10 boys gymnastic competition in 1967! And actually I missed out on coming first by one twentieth of a point. Forty five years later and it is still annoying.

Winning and losing. Sometimes the gap between the two is negligible, but the impact can be enormous. Coming second usually leaves a sense of disappointment, bitterness, perhaps even outrage. Coming second means going back to the script of ‘if only’. Coming second means we long for another chance.

I’m rather glad that the Christian gospel is about second chances. And strangely enough, second time around someone else runs the race for us. Which is just as well, because when it comes to the struggle against evil, we’re a lot more than a hundredth of a second behind…

As always, nice chatting…

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *