Saturday 22 August 2009

Usain Bolt Redeems Himself

Yeah, yeah, I know ... he's the world's premier sporting supernova and gets 5 million bucks just for showing up these days (and so he should, probably even more).

And yes, of course, he does not care one iota what some pimply little punk in rural England (me) thinks about his antics. Who am I to have an opinion?

But it's all becoming clear to me now.

Yesterday was Usain Bolt's 23rd birthday. He got a standing ovation from the entire Berlin stadium. How cool was that? Then he clowned around with the Berlin mascot ... and his two fellow competitors on the podium. Spontaneous, unscripted ... and utterly charming. I felt like I knew who he really was.

Why? Because he was being himself. And, by all apearances, he seems like a stand-up guy. Relaxed, fresh faced, beautifully constructed, genuine ... and completely at ease in his own skin.

After watching the whole medal presentation and the way he handled himself, I actually felt pretty bad that I had even thought to criticise his showboating in the past. He is who he is. People love him. And that's obviously enough.

Then the media started to milk the occasion and show footage that they felt would really whip the masses into a frenzy. Usain Bolt doing his jig. Usain Bolt wiping his fingers across his face and leering at the camera. Usain Bolt strutting around like a big, proud rooster.

And then I got it. I finally realised that there are two people.

The one is Usain Bolt, the man. He over-delivers on performance and fulfills the fantasies of any human being who appreciates human movement at its most elegant. He is also unique, serendipidous, confident, self-deprecating and endearing. A genuinely lovely human being without any arrogance to detract from his appeal. Hey, I'd even shake his hand.

Then there's Usain Bolt, the media darling. He's a clown. With that same overblown edge that all clowns have. You know, that wierd thing that makes adults think clowns must be funny to kids, when actually they are scary. Adults just don't get that. And neither does the media.

This "Usain Bolt" is an imposter. A fabrication. A commercial product designed to titillate the baying masses. This is something totally incongruent with Usain Bolt, the enduring legend. And there will come a time when people will realise that the memories that will last are not those that are crass ... but those that are genuine, humble and understated.

A perfect backdrop to majestic magnificence. A man who, in full flight, is cocaine to the senses. But whose smile and instinctive, natural flamboyance makes the media's larger-than-life concoction redundant.

That mascot is proving to be far more special than I could have hoped for.

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