Andrew Alderson: And the gold medal for humanity goes to...

Opinion

They’ve been called the Vancouver Summer Olympics and the Glitch Games thanks to a series of well-documented errors and hindrances made by man and Mother Nature.

But make no mistake – when you’re a spectator watching live events at the 21st Winter Olympiad, the skill of the athletes surpasses expectations.

At the risk of copping journalistic abuse and committing the crime of cheerleading, this observer remains in awe of what humans are capable of, trying to be faster, higher or stronger.

Take the women’s downhill skiing, won by American Lindsey Vonn. A casual estimate of the final slope says the average skier would take about eight turns to complete it with reasonable aplomb. The women take none, and if you didn’t know it was powdered snow they were leaving in their wake, you would assume it was a vapour trail.

Even after watching for an hour it is hard to get blasé. Those standing in the viewing bay at the finish will have also noted an involuntary collective intake of breath as skiers launch into the air over the final turn. Most topped over 100kp/h at some stage on the course. It’s like James Bond in On Her Majesty’s Service, but without Blofeld’s evil henchmen in pursuit.

Skeleton or luge racers can be put in a similar bracket, particularly after the death of Georgian Nodar Kumaritashvili. It makes you question whether adjectives such as ‘fearless’ or ‘courageous’ are thrown around too liberally in sports journalism.

Kiwi Ben Sandford says in the first few seconds of the skeleton, participants are pushing 100km/h. Clinging on through turns labelled Shiver, Wedge and 50/50 is an adrenaline rush whether you’re in the tube or watching from the rail.

Then there’s American Shaun White, the Flying Tomato with his mane of red hair blowing out the back of his helmet on the way to defending his men’s snowboarding halfpipe title.

Probably the highest compliment you can pay White is that he is a pioneer for the sport who had the nous to debut a signature move, the Tomahawk (also known as the McTwist), at the recent X Games. That enabled judges to have prior knowledge of the trick’s skill so they could mark it accordingly.

The unbridled patriotism of Canadians has been an eye-opener. Perhaps it’s been enhanced by the desire to break the duck of gold medals at their previous two home Olympics.

Tears were shed when Alex Bilodeau triumphed in the moguls but then, at the sliding centre the other night, the skeleton action was ignored as a score of local journalists swamped a television set when Switzerland threatened to beat Canada in an ice hockey penalty shootout. The odd cheer was bellowed before normal, objective service resumed.

Such blind nationalism is a point of considerable debate.

One consequence to such outpourings of national pride is that volunteer fatigue canset in.

But anyone who is dedicated enough to stand out in the cold with nothing but a smurf-blue uniform for protection can’t be all bad.

One favourite was a new acquaintance on the chairlift returning from the downhill who pronounced herself the day’s Chilli-wench. Her responsibility was to make sure enough of the Canadian staple was transported up to keep fans and media nourished throughout the day.

So there’s a gold medal for humanity.

Perhaps the Winter Olympics are producing something more than just sporting achievements after all.