Editorial: Can-do Paralympians go for gold

They are a squad of 42 athletes, mostly no different from any other sportsmen and women striving to compete successfully at the highest level.

For the past four years, their lives have been dominated by their sport. They have thought about it, talked about it and trained obsessively. Often they have been short of money, but the quest for a winning edge meant that any spare cash was poured into the latest high-tech equipment.

Now New Zealand's Paralympics team is about to go for gold as Sydney hosts the world's elite sporting competition for athletes with a disability.

The New Zealanders have a tough act to follow, not only because their competition comes hard on the heels of an outstandingly successful Olympics. They do not need reminding that New Zealand has a hugely impressive Paralympics tradition. Four years ago, nine gold, six silver and three bronze medals were won at Atlanta. Hastings paraplegic swimmer Duane Kale won six medals.

At Sydney, Kale will manage the swimming team, part of a squad blending youth and experience which, it is widely anticipated, will do better than any of its predecessors. Seventeen of the New Zealand team are ranked in the top three in the world in their sports. Like all leading athletes, they carry the burden of expectation.

For the Paralympians, this is perhaps the one downside of heightened recognition and a changing public perception. Quite rightly, less emphasis is being placed on their disabilities and more on what they are able to do.

Much of this is testimony to the no-nonsense approach of the likes of Eve Rimmer and, more recently, Jenny Newstead and Kale, who became household names. Then, of course, there is archer Neroli Fairhall, who says she is competing at her final Paralympics after a career which included a gold medal at the 1982 Commonwealth Games and competition at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics.

Every disabled athlete, of course, has an inspiring tale to tell, often involving a courageous fightback from the cruellest of misfortune.

Take, for example, Mark Inglis, a member of the cycling team at Sydney, who lost his legs after being trapped on Mt Cook. Or discus thrower John Eden, who aimed to be an All Black before losing a leg in a motorcycle accident when he was 19. Increasingly, however, when such athletes are mentioned, the focus is not on past misfortune but on present sporting prowess. In the process, their sport has gained added credence.

In a curious way, it is strange that this recognition has taken so long to evolve.

All sports have restrictions. In soccer the ball cannot be handled, in cricket the ball cannot - post- Trevor Chappell - be bowled underarm, in rugby the ball cannot be passed forward. For Paralympians, the restrictions are imposed not by rule or regulation but by physical disability.

Certainly, the people of Sydney have not been slow to bestow recognition. Their hosting of the Paralympics will enhance the Games' profile, as surely as the city's sunny disposition banished many of the clouds hovering over the Olympic movement. Wednesday's opening ceremony for the 4000 athletes from 125 countries will be held before a full or near-full stadium. And Australians have been quick to buy tickets for individual events.

Sadly, that sort of appreciation has not been universal. How can it possibly have been fair that Paralympics New Zealand had to find the money for both the team members' uniforms and the Games entry fee of almost $A1100 a squad member. No such churlish demands were placed on the organisers of New Zealand's Olympic team. And none will surely be applied again to our Paralympians once they have done their bit to sate the country's medal-hungry appetite.