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1. 2008 Usain Bolt sets world record on his way to gold
It was the fastest dance in history. Bolt spread his arms, slapped his chest, lifted his knees to his chin and danced 100 metres in a reality-defying 9.69 seconds.
The final of the men’s 100 metres at the Olympic Games is the greatest occasion in sport — the race of races at the event of events. To be in the Olympic Stadium when a world record is broken is like nothing else in sport. I remember — cannot forget — the desperate brilliance of Ben Johnson’s run in Seoul 20 years earlier. A world record was followed with devastating speed by the devastation of disgrace.
As the rounds ticked down in the 100 metres at the Beijing Games of 2008, so Bolt ran faster and faster. He loped into the final; only the clock thought he sprinted. The 100 metres final is supposed to be gunfight-crazy, hair-trigger nerves, macho posturing. Bolt strolled to the line like a man at a mildly amusing party.
Bang. Bolt got to his feet, always a protracted business. Found his stride, again, not a thing he does in a hurry. And was gone. Clean gone. He danced his dance in the final few strides and still set a world record.
Joy. Joy, joy, joy, joy, joy.
Like the other members of the impartial press, I was on my feet, yelling prayerful blasphemies and poetic obscenities: “Nine point six! Nine point f***ing six!” And sitting down while the yelling went on, in a personal space of complete quiet, total wonder.
I was in an ecstasy of vicarious brilliance. The greatest piece of sport I had seen. That anyone had seen. And soon I would be writing about the greatest piece of sport that anyone had ever written about. Imagine that.
With the time he set, Bolt ran beyond anyone else who has ever run — the fastest man in history. With his time, with his dance, he had run far beyond mere victory.
Sport has a hierarchy of enjoyment. Partisanship is at the lowest level, then drama, and at the summit, excellence. Bolt ran beyond partisanship, beyond any need for drama. But he also ran beyond mere excellence, into a place unavailable to anyone else.
And one more thing. Bolt also ran beyond cynicism. In the moment of victory the world united in yearning. As yet, it remains unspoilt. Usain Bolt gave us back the 100 metres. He gave us back belief. He gave us back sport.
Simon Barnes Chief Sports Writer
It was the fastest dance in history. Bolt spread his arms, slapped his chest, lifted his knees to his chin and danced 100 metres in a reality-defying 9.69 seconds.
The final of the men’s 100 metres at the Olympic Games is the greatest occasion in sport — the race of races at the event of events. To be in the Olympic Stadium when a world record is broken is like nothing else in sport. I remember — cannot forget — the desperate brilliance of Ben Johnson’s run in Seoul 20 years earlier. A world record was followed with devastating speed by the devastation of disgrace.
As the rounds ticked down in the 100 metres at the Beijing Games of 2008, so Bolt ran faster and faster. He loped into the final; only the clock thought he sprinted. The 100 metres final is supposed to be gunfight-crazy, hair-trigger nerves, macho posturing. Bolt strolled to the line like a man at a mildly amusing party.
Bang. Bolt got to his feet, always a protracted business. Found his stride, again, not a thing he does in a hurry. And was gone. Clean gone. He danced his dance in the final few strides and still set a world record.
Joy. Joy, joy, joy, joy, joy.
Like the other members of the impartial press, I was on my feet, yelling prayerful blasphemies and poetic obscenities: “Nine point six! Nine point f***ing six!” And sitting down while the yelling went on, in a personal space of complete quiet, total wonder.
I was in an ecstasy of vicarious brilliance. The greatest piece of sport I had seen. That anyone had seen. And soon I would be writing about the greatest piece of sport that anyone had ever written about. Imagine that.
With the time he set, Bolt ran beyond anyone else who has ever run — the fastest man in history. With his time, with his dance, he had run far beyond mere victory.
Sport has a hierarchy of enjoyment. Partisanship is at the lowest level, then drama, and at the summit, excellence. Bolt ran beyond partisanship, beyond any need for drama. But he also ran beyond mere excellence, into a place unavailable to anyone else.
And one more thing. Bolt also ran beyond cynicism. In the moment of victory the world united in yearning. As yet, it remains unspoilt. Usain Bolt gave us back the 100 metres. He gave us back belief. He gave us back sport.
Simon Barnes Chief Sports Writer
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