Roger Moroney recalls the day he got close to Peter Snell. Photo / NZME
Roger Moroney recalls the day he got close to Peter Snell. Photo / NZME
I remember (which at times is quite remarkable for me) seeing the great Peter Snell having a run down at our local park back in the mid-60s, or thereabouts.
When I say local park I mean the fine sports ground we as kids would turn up to on a Thursdayevening during summers for the weekly athletics competitions.
It would have been about 1965 or '66 I reckon as I would have been around 10 or 11 ... when my age was exceeding my IQ.
The park was the talk of the town, and the country, as giant floodlights had been built.
Oh how we youngsters competed with pride, knowing that youngsters everywhere else had to engage in their athletics in the daytime ... we could go on until 9pm, although it was usually all wrapped by 8.30.
By hey, I got my name in the local paper and Dad was very proud and cut it out for the family album.
"That's my boy ... in the top three."
One of my brothers also bagged a few second places along the way and he, too, was lauded by the old man, although it didn't mean he could skip having to peel the spuds when Mum was running late coming home from work.
He was the second-fastest spud peeler in the house.
Competition is wonderful and just being able to take part is equally wonderful.
Even coming last is fine and dandy ... for it's all about having a go.
I took part in a mile race at intermediate school once and came last.
But oddly enough, I remember getting just as many accolades as the kid who won.
"You gave it your best shot."
"Well done for giving it a go."
And one of the lady teachers said "oh never mind" and gave me a conciliatory hug.
From that day on I made a point of coming last ... if she was there.
And so here we stand, or sit or loiter or whatever, amidst the landscape of the 2021 Olympic Games in Tokyo.
An event, in my mind, that should have been shelved, for the world, and particularly Japan, at this stage is taking a Covid bashing and we are still coming second in taking it on.
There are already reports of outbreaks in the Games village, and crowds will not be there for the events ... and no official medal presentations allowed.
It just doesn't really make sense.
Except it does, the hearts and back accounts of the IOC officials in their palatial offices and mansions in Monaco or wherever.
For it is all about making cents ... and dollars.
Being able to stage the Olympics in this era doesn't appear to be totally focused on creating a platform for athletes from many lands to compete against one another.
I suspect (for the management team) it is about picking up several billion bucks in marketing and screening rights throughout the world.
It's money.
Like so many once purely sporting things are today.
America's Cup ... sigh.
The All Blacks and their multimillion-dollar sponsorship pursuits.
Once upon a time it was all so simple and felt so much more approachable and comfortable.
And hey, if an event had to be put off due to uncontrollable circumstances then so be it ... it'll return when all is well ... and safe.
I think of the night I saw, and got close to, the great Mr Snell.
Would he have worn the concept of attending these perilous games?
I'm not sure ... for I think he simply saw the sense of safe and exciting competition.
Not the cents.
• Roger Moroney is an award-winning journalist and observer of the slightly off centre
