Sporting Comedowns

In the wake of London 2012, how can we avoid that horrible sinking feeling?

My mum’s very fond of neuro-linguistic programming (NLP).  One aspect of NLP claims that positive phraseology is a better way of achieving a desired result than highlighting the negative, undesired outcome.  So, the theory goes, it’s better to tell a child to “carry that cup carefully” than to say “don’t spill that drink”; or to remind your wife to “take the car keys with you” as opposed to “don’t forget the car keys.”

Today, in the midst of what must rate the biggest hangover British sport has ever known, I’m going to throw all of that good NLP theory out of the window.  London 2012 has been so spectacular, so heart-warming and so darn successful for British athletes (I’m avoiding ‘Team GB’ as it still sounds bobbins) and I just don’t want us to – how can I put this without splitting an infinitive? – arse it all up.  I don’t want London to revert to its sullen, introverted self.  I don’t want the inevitable spike in interest in sport to fall off a cliff as soon as the nights start drawing in.  I don’t want us to fall helplessly back into the arms of Premier League football like some serial victim giving an abusive partner ‘one last chance.’

So I wanted to look at a few cases of sporting comedowns, falls from greatness and spectacular failures to sustain achievement.  Firstly, because it might prevent us from making the same mistakes – yes, yes, British sport, I’m available for consultation for a modest fee.  And, secondly, because schadenfreude (and in at least one case self-flagellation) is a strangely pleasant emotion.

Oh, and one more non-NLP-style plea.  Can we stop using the word ‘legacy’?  It sucks.

Australia’s Olympians 2000 – 2012

It’s a bit harsh, this one, if truth be told.  The 2012 Games produced some superb Australian champions: Anna Meares in the cycling and sprint hurdler Sally Pearson to name but two.  But the overall medal tally is down considerably since the Sydney Games of 2000, where the host nation produced arguably the greatest ever Olympic moment as Kathy Freeman carried more than one woman should ever have to carry to land the 400m.

They were also unstoppable in the pool that year – success that continued through to Athens and Beijing – and it’s perhaps here that the decline is most marked.  Just one swimming gold in London versus 5, 7 and 6 in 2000, 2004 and 2008 respectively.  Ian Thorpe, speaking on the BBC, claimed that the legendary Australian sporting programmes, so often lauded for their capacity to identify and nurture talent, simply don’t exist.  Rather, he said, it’s a more random process that occasionally unearths a world-beater (like you, Thorpey).  He further hinted that funding was not where it needed to be and that the success of the previous two Games had simply masked the lack of long-term investment.

One day during London 2012, Channel 9 in Australia showed the medal table minus next-door neighbours New Zealand, who were 10^th on the list.  9’s explanation was that their viewers wouldn’t want to be reminded about the success of the Kiwis, given how poorly the Aussies were faring.  That says it all, doesn’t it?

I have no doubt Australia will recapture former glory.  For now, though, and based on Olympic golds, they’ll have to settle for a place on the podium next to the sporting powerhouse that is Yorkshire.

England cricket 2005 – 2006/7

If we’re talking sporting hangovers, this was a monster.  The 2005 Ashes have been well documented.  In the most thrilling series we’ll ever see – fact – England had beaten Australia for the first time in nigh-on 20 years, wresting back the historic urn.  As the victors stood on a stage in Trafalgar Square 24 hours after the final day at the Oval, cheered by tens of thousands of delirious fans, the decline had already begun.

Much has been made of those celebrations: pretty much a 48-hour binge, taking in a trip to Downing Street and that famous outpouring at Trafalgar Square.  Not surprising, really, when you consider (a) the punishment England had had to endure for a generation at the hands of the Aussies and the attendant exhilaration when we finally broke the shackles and (b) the booze culture among young Englishmen.

Collectively, sub-consciously (and totally understandably), we allowed ourselves to rest on our laurels.  The sense of “we’ve done it” smothered the need to understand “what do we do next?”

But there was more to it than that.  The team changed, for starters.  Most crucially, the seam-bowling quartet of Andrew ‘Freddie’ Flintoff, Steve Harmison, Matthew Hoggard and Simon Jones never played as a unit again.  They had each performed at their peak in 2005: Flintoff with accuracy and venom, causing particular trouble for Australia’s left-handers (Adam Gilchrist, the best wicket-keeper batsman of all time became something of Freddie’s bunny); Harmison with raw pace and aggression (his scarring of Ricky Ponting on the first morning of the first Test set the tone for what was to come, while his slower ball to get rid of Michael Clarke at Edgbaston was arguably the turning point of the whole series); Hoggard with new-ball swing and cunning (helped by some adventurous field placings such as the short mid-off where he had Matt Hayden caught first ball at Edgbaston); and Jones with skiddy pace and superb reverse swing with the older ball (almost the forgotten man, Jones had the best average of all of England’s bowlers).  In the wake of the Ashes, a combination of injury, loss of form and personal issues meant that this quartet would never again operate together as they had in that golden summer.

Add to that the fact that captain Michael Vaughan had resigned and that opening batsman Marcus Trescothick had pulled out due to his ongoing battle with depression, and the team that showed up in Australia to defend the Ashes in 2006/7 was markedly different from the one that played so heroically less than 18 months previously.  It wasn’t just that some of the individuals had changed; it was more that as a team we looked like the England of old.  Hopeful rather than expectant, cautious rather than forthright, visibly cowed by the Australians who were out for revenge and – let’s not forget – still probably the best side in Test history.

So when Harmison bowled the first ball of the series to second slip, it was a sign of what was to come.  And what was to come was the most complete, humiliating shellacking anyone could remember.

Fortunately, things have taken a turn for the better in recent Ashes series…

David Duval

How can a man who wins the Open, shoots a round of 59 and is for a time the number one golfer in the world suddenly find himself at number 211 and struggling to make the cut of even the most minor tournament?  The glib answer, but one with some truth in it, is this.  It’s golf, isn’t it, the most fickle of mistresses.

Dave was probably a bit better than me in his heyday but I think I can sympathise.  On the rare occasion I cream a drive beautifully down the fairway with just a touch of draw, the first thought that enters my head, after the initial shock has cleared, is: “What did I do differently there?”

I use this example not because I actually dare to compare myself to a pro (I’m vain but not deluded) but because it illustrates how such a seemingly simple game can play havoc with the mind.  When you have hundreds of guys on the pro tour, each of whom has mastered the physical aspects of the sport, it inevitably becomes a mental pursuit.  Having plummeted to 800-something in the world rankings, Duval proved he still ‘had it’ by finishing runner-up in the 2009 US Open but it was a rare good day at the office.  The fact remains that the 2001 Open was his last tournament victory.

These days, he’s reportedly taking a simple approach to golf.  Just go out and enjoy it is his mantra.  We can but wish him all the best.  Unless, of course, he’s planning to help the States win the Ryder Cup at any time in the future.  In which case he can continue being pants.

Manchester City 1937 and 1938

City remain the only team ever to win the English top division and get relegated the very next season.  Perhaps even more extraordinary, they were top scorers in the league when they went down, as they had been when winning the title twelve months before.  One site records: “However, the defence performed badly…” [no kidding!] “…letting in 77 goals.”  They finished 21^st and went down.

Let’s hope history doesn’t repeat itself.  That would be awful.