2008 Olympics Updates

It has been a fantastically successful Olympics for Team GB, and as I’ve watched the cyclists and the sailors enjoying the limelight, I suppose I cannot help reflect on the disappointment that GB’s six archers will be returning home empty-handed.

I think the reason Archery GB has been so flat is that expectations were so high, and it is to the credit of our archers that that was so. Alison Williamson, Alan Wills et al have all performed so well on the international stage over the past four years that observers such as myself started to become too confident.

It all started with a bronze for Alison at Athens in 2004, and a fourth place finish for Larry Godfrey. Since then, they have won a number of medals at various international competitions, ranging from world and European championships, to World Cup tournaments. And not for nothing are our women’s team ranked second in the world, and the men fifth.

Last year, British archers won a silver medal and two bronze at the World Championships in Leipzig, but alas, it wasn’t the Olympic Games, and therefore that fantastic achievement went relatively unreported. Win a medal at the Olympics and suddenly a cascade of journalists are battering the door down for interviews, and for a minority sport like archery, publicity of that kind is a wonderful chance to further raise the profile of the sport.

But the Olympic Games is the gauge by which the success of the sport is measured, and the archers missed their opportunity - though the trio of Alison, Naomi Folkard and Charlotte Burgess provided tremendous theatre in the team tournament when they came so agonisingly close to a medal on the first Sunday. After that, we faded from the scene, and that was a disappointment, of course.

So where do we go from here? Well, as I said, British archery has had a tremendous three years, and looking ahead, there are a good crop of youngsters waiting to break through, and snapping at the heels of the seniors in the countdown to London 2012.

First things first, though, and we will all be cheering on our Paralympic archers in Beijing, and while I should learn the lesson of being too optimistic, I cannot help myself by reporting that we have a great squad and every chance of winning medals.

In the first week of September, the World Field Archery Championship takes place at Llwynypia, near Cardiff, with hundreds of archers from all over the world descending on South Wales for a week long tournament.

We also have one of our compound archers - Nichola Simpson - taking part in the Fita World Cup Grand Final in Lausanne in October, which everyone is looking forward to. It is the third year running (and the World Cup only began in 2006) that a GB archer has made it to the Grand Final (Alan Wills won a bronze medal last year, Alison Williamson finished fourth the year before).

After that, there will be a review of the Olympic experience in October, with officials, coaches and, of course, the archers themselves, all contributing to a far-reaching assessment and analysis of the good and the bad of Beijing. I have little doubt there will be plenty of straight-talking, but constructive, rather than destructive.

Oh, and there is the question of funding. It is extremely premature to speculate one way or t’other about this, because the simple fact is that nobody knows at this stage - though I accept that the lack of medal success makes it an inevitable question.

I don’t know the politics of funding, but what I do know is that the setting up of a Performance Unit by Archery GB three years ago, and the consistently improving performances at international level since Athens four years ago, suggests that the long term strategy is on the right lines.

Chaoyang Park Beach Volleyball Ground & Capital Gymnasium, Beijing

According to the International Volleyball Federation (FIVB), beach volleyball was first played in California as a bit of light relief during the Great Depression.

And, having watched my first slice of the ball-and-bikinis game on Thursday (a day that Manchester in February would be disappointed with), I can confirm beach volleyball has mood-enhancing qualities.

But volleyball’s bosses are probably over-egging it to suggest the sport was born for any historical reason. I think people started playing beach volleyball because they could - which reminds me of that old joke about dogs and certain parts of their anatomy.

Quite simply, beach volleyball is fantastic. It’s old-school indoor volleyball I’m not so sure about. But before I get to that, let’s have some background.

A New Yorker called William G. Morgan invented volleyball (although he called it “mintonette”) in 1895. A year later, another American, Alfred T. Halstead, saved the sport from ridicule by coming up with the name of volleyball. This was a huge step as there is no way the International Olympic Committee (IOC) would have agreed to beach mintonette.

The next half-century saw the sport slowly spread to most corners of the globe, and by 1947 it was time for FIVB to spring into life. World championships followed but it wasn’t until 1964 that the sport took its Olympic bow.

Recent years have seen the volleyball tweak its rules to make things a bit more exciting and the inexorable growth of its sandy offspring. The key date is July 1996, when beach volleyball packed them in at the Atlanta Games.

It was even more popular in Sydney, no doubt helped by Australia’s run to gold in the women’s event, and it was soon clear the student had outgrown the master.

In many ways, the strangest thing about beach volleyball as an Olympic sport is that the IOC agreed to it. This is an organisation, after all, that thinks dressage (Strictly Come Prancing) has a place in an international multi-sports event in the 21st century - and before you email in, I’m not knocking it for equestrian competitions, I know it is a supreme test of horsemanship.

By saying yes to beach volleyball, the IOC wasn’t just agreeing to a few tonnes of sand and a hundred extra athletes: it was giving the green light to cheerleaders, loud music and a running commentary from a bilingual Ali G. I’m not sure this is entirely what Baron de Coubertin had in mind.

But beach volleyball’s biggest weakness is also its biggest strength: the game is played by fit, young things in their swimming costumes. Actually, that’s wrong. The game is played by fit, young women in their swimming costumes. The men get to dress like Australians.

This has led to some critics suggesting the sport is more suited Club 18-30 than the Olympics, and many Islamic countries have chosen not to embrace it for precisely this reason.

That, of course, is their prerogative but for the rest of us I’ve got news - beach volleyball is no more salacious than half a dozen sports here (have you seen women’s high jump or pole vault recently?). Not only that, the sporty bikinis make complete sense for what they are doing, namely, flinging themselves around in the sand. The women, in fact, can wear less revealing, one-piece costumes if they want, but choose not to.

And what all of this completely obscures is that we are talking about highly trained, incredibly talented, full-time athletes. The feeling that you have wandered into a party at the Playboy Mansion by lucky accident doesn’t last long and you’re soon wrapped up in the ebbs and flows of a dynamic sport.

The game I watched - the women’s final - had a bit of everything as it pitted the defending champions, the US partnership of Kerri Walsh and Misty May-Treanor, against the coming force in beach volleyball, the Chinese pairing of Tian Jia and Wang Jie.

It was the first time at these Games that teams from the US and China had met in a gold-medal match, and it was played in a deluge. So we had the surreal scene of a packed Chaoyang stadium, clad entirely in pastel-coloured pac-a-macs, watching four women in bikinis attempt to recreate Santa Monica.

“Everybody in Beijing wants this ticket!” screamed the Ali G-alike in English and Mandarin, before reacting to a blocked spike with the immortal putdown, “Not in my house!”

The scoring was tight, with the American pair opting for power (particularly the long-limbed Walsh), while the Chinese duo mixed up their spikes with some angled dinks. Tian, playing in her third Olympic competition, was having a blinder, repeatedly retrieving lost causes or setting up her taller partner Wang at the net.

But it was the Americans, unbeaten for 107 matches, who came up with the big points when it mattered. And before too long they had wrapped up a 21-18 21-18 victory and a second Olympic title.

In the run-up to the final Walsh and May-Treanor hadn’t always sounded as gracious as they might but in the post-match press conference they were politeness personified. Beijing was neat, the fans were wonderful and their opponents were great and will get better. They even had a quip about the weather.

“That’s another reason we wear our swim suits,” said May-Treanor.

The Chinese started off a bit glum but cheered up as the compliments came in from the champions. They also spoke about this being a breakthrough tournament for the sport in China - their second team beat Brazil to the bronze medal - and I think they might be right. There was a full-page, colour advert featuring Tian and Wang on the back of China Daily’s main section today - I can’t remember anything similar for the country’s numerous winners in shooting or weightlifting.

I also can’t imagine anything similar for their indoor volleyball compatriots, who lost their women’s semi-final in straight sets to Brazil later on Thursday. It’s not there was any disgrace in that defeat, the South Americans are a fine team and got better as this match went on, or that the players on the squad are any less lovely than Tian and Wang. It’s the sport, that’s the problem.

Indoor volleyball is a great game to play (many are the rainy Wednesdays I remember playing volleyball, or something similar, in the school gym as a youngster) and it’s an OK game to watch. It’s just not as good as beach volleyball.

It’s almost as if the game Morgan invented was meant for the beach, not the hard floors of a gymnasium. Cricket, football and rugby on the beach are a laugh but they’re not improved as contests by the shifting surface. Volleyball is, though. Being able to dive head-long at the ball without fear is liberating.

A player as skilled as Tian is too short for indoor volleyball, with its near total focus on height, but can operate on sand. And May-Treanor was a superb indoor player before quitting the national team because it wasn’t “fun anymore”.

The pace of beach volleyball is better too, and the players don’t seem to feel the need to get together for a hug every 30 seconds, although I suppose with just two of them it would get a bit odd.

No, I’m a beach volleyball man all the way. And not for the reasons you think. That’s what the cheerleaders are for and they appear every five minutes. Even in the rain.

Hi folks,

What a golden weekend for Team GB at the Olympics, unfortunately for me though I couldn’t add to the 17 medals won by Britain in Beijing over the last few days.

I’m gutted I couldn’t at least emulate my Athens bronze four years ago but swimming two world-class 1500m times in 36 hours was too much of an ask.

My qualifying swim of 14 minutes 14 minutes 46.11 seconds was me at the top of my game.

Sadly I didn’t have the recovery powers to better that time by four seconds, smashing my personal best in the process, in such a short space of time.

Now if I want to carry on in this event for another four years against physically bigger guys, I’ve got to find a way to do maxed out 1500m inside two days if I want to compete for medals.

But I must quickly recover from my pool disappointment and focus on my 10k Open Water bid on Thursday.

I must thank British Swimming for black-mailing into this event as it gives me a second chance to join in with Team GB’s medal-winning party here in Beijing.

When the 10k swim became part of the Olympics programme, British swimming wanted some of its endurance athletes to give it a try.

The bosses said have a few weeks in South Africa to top up your tan and have a go at this new event.

I was told if you like it keep going, if not just get out.

I got a wicked tan and won my first 10k race, qualifying for the World Championships in Seville.

I then won silver in the Worlds and qualified for the Olympics.

I wasn’t sure about taking on another tough challenge in case it affected my 1500m performances.

But I thought I’d give it a go as the 10k was a few days after my pool priorities, now I’m glad I did!

I’ve not altered my training for the Open Water event as I initially saw it as a little ‘Brucey bonus.’

Now if I want to help Team GB and Wales’ impressive medal haul in Beijing, then this is my last chance.

I am more suited longer distance swims and the 1500m is now pretty much a sprint, as silly that sounds.

The 10k event is a more endurance based event and I feel I can keep going for longer, although specialist Open Water athletes do double my 80k weekly training regime.

As I’m a rookie to these iron man-style swims, I’m under no pressure and I’m looking forward to see how I do.

As part of my recovery process since the 1500m final, I’ve had plenty of physio, massages, sleep and grub to ensure my body is fully refuelled for Thursday’s step into the unknown for me.

I’ve left the Olympic Village now as the 10k swim is at the Shunyi rowing lake where Britain enjoyed plenty of success at this Olympics - I hope that’s a positive omen.

The course seems to have ideal conditions for converted pool swimmers like me; it’s very flat and calm. Effectively, it is a massive outside pool.

Swimming’s version of the marathon is not just physically gruelling but tactically tough as because there are no lanes and you’re swimming in a pack, I’ll have to think on my feet.

If I want clear water, I’ll have to move out wide.

I’ll have to consider when I take on food and water because being two hours in a pool is a very long time especially when you’re putting your body on the line.

Adapting will be the key word, not just to the race itself but to the conditions.

Luckily there’ll be no local wildlife to worry about.

Some Open Water events have to start early so not to wake the alligators while others you spend half the time dodging the jellyfish.

You don’t have to be mad to compete in the 10k, but if you are it helps.

However, this extra string to my bow has freshened up my career and given me a new lease of life.

Hopefully it’ll give me an Olympic medal, too.

Wish me luck.

Chris Hoy said it would take a “special ride” to beat the British Sprint Team in Beijing and boy was he right! No-one was equal to the efforts of Messrs Staff, Kenny and Hoy over three laps of the track as the British cycling revolution rolled on.

I was slightly less confident than Hoy at the start of the evening after listening to the French broadcasters next to us talk up their own team’s chances. The French had been half a second faster than the British trio (with Ross Edgar instead of Kenny) at the World Championships in Manchester.

But Hoy knew how the team were performing in the run-up to these Games and was less surprised than the rest of the velodrome when they smashed the world’s best time in qualifying.

Jamie Staff has devoted the last two years to perfecting the opening lap and gives the British team such a wonderful platform and Jason Kenny is living the dream after storming into this sprint line-up.

Kenny looked like an old pro as he stuck to Staff’s wheel (well, almost) and gave Hoy the lead out he needed to bring home the gold. The Scot conceded that he too struggled to keep with the pace but his immense power was equal to the challenge and the Brits in the velodrome went wild.

I had barely recovered from their incredible qualifying time of 42.950. It stunned the rest of the field and completely silenced the French media beside us.

But it didn’t silence the Hoy family who I caught up with after the evening’s excitement. They are such wonderful, dedicated bike fans and have travelled all over the world supporting Chris and the rest of the team and have become great friends since we all made the expedition to Bolivia last year to see Chris attempt the world kilo record.

I received a fantastic email from Chris’s dad David this morning with footage of the rest of the clan back in Edinburgh watching the cycling yesterday. It looked like quite a party so I guess, if you can’t be here tonight, then I guess that’s the next best place to be when he goes for his second gold of the Games in the keirin and Bradley Wiggins defends his pursuit crown.

Four years on from dropping out of an Olympic marathon she was clear favourite to win, Radcliffe lines up in Tiananmen Square on Sunday morning with no-one - not even herself - really knowing how she might perform.

Radcliffe says it’s a case of “unfinished business”. Unfortunately, after the foot injury, stress fracture and rogue spider bite that have prevented her from racing for the last nine months, her training and preparation are also incomplete.

She arrived in Athens having smashed the world record in her previous marathon and set a new British record over 5,000m less than two months before. Out here in Beijing, she’s not so much undercooked as still in the pantry.

Marathons are the least forgiving of all athletics events. To do well anywhere - let alone in the heat and humidity of Beijing - you need miles in your legs, months of consistent distance-running followed by five or six weeks of shorter, faster efforts and tapering.

Radcliffe, instead, has been forced to do much of her work in the pool and on an anti-gravity treadmill, pushing hard right up until race-day.

Had this been a world championships or big city marathon, she’d almost certainly not be taking part. But after coming away empty-handed from three Olympics already, the emotional pull of the Games on the 34-year-old Radcliffe is immense.

My BBC colleague Steve Cram can sympathise. Having won the world 1500m title in 1983, he went to the Olympics the following year still in the process of recovering from injury.

“Mentally, there are similarities,” he reckons. “You go out there not quite knowing what could happen.

“You have to try to have faith in your own abilities, in what you’ve achieved in the past.

“But it was far easier for me. You can run the 1500m without having the perfect preparation - you know that you’ll at least be in touch until the final 200m or so.

“It’s not the same in the marathon. There’s a big difference between being fit enough to start and being fit enough to win a medal.

“Paula will have a problem with her strategy. All athletes want to run the way they’re used to, the way they like.

“If she’d run 2hrs 21 mins in London in April, she’d have a plan of what she could do. But that didn’t happen.”

Cram came away from Los Angeles with a silver medal behind the man who had also beaten him four years earlier, Sebastian Coe.

Radcliffe will at least not have to face Japan’s Mizuki Noguchi, the woman who stood atop the podium in Athens while she was being taken away in an ambulance.

In the injured Noguchi’s absence, the marginal favourite out here is China’s 2007 world silver medallist Zhou Chunxiu, the farmer’s daughter who is reputed to run a staggering 187 miles per week over the winter.

But if all marathons are notoriously hard to predict, the Olympic race is doubly so. The Olympic record is almost five minutes slower than Radcliffe’s world record.

History indicates that it’s often not so much the best marathon runner in the world who wins as the athlete best prepared on that exact day for that specific course and conditions.

World record holder Haile Gebrselassie won’t even be lining up in the men’s race, fearful that the air pollution will exacerbate his asthma.

In Beijing, where the course loops around Tiananmen before heading north-east past the Temple of Heaven and Summer Palace and back round to the Bird’s Nest, some sages are tipping Catherine Ndereba, world champion and winner of the New York half-marathon last month.

Ethiopia’s Gete Wami, who beat Radcliffe over 10,000m at the Sydney Olympics, has the experience to convince others, while other whispers say Romania’s Constantina Tomescu-Dita is in the form of her life.

Then there’s the strange case of the British runner with the Kenyan and Japanese name, Mara Yamauchi.

Born in Oxford, she was brought up in Kenya, her parents naming her after a river that flowed near their house.

As Mara Myers she graduated from Oxford University and the LSE, took a job with the Foreign Office and went to work in the British embassy in Tokyo, at one point acting as interpreter for Baroness Thatcher and running the embassy’s World Cup office in 2002.

While there she met and married Shigetoshi Yamauchi.

Having been a fine cross country runner before leaving England, she started training again seriously under a flexible working scheme which enabled her to job-share and then work part-time.

Since then she’s gradually developed into one of Britain’s finest-ever marathon runners. In the past year alone she’s won the Osaka Marathon and finished fifth on a test event held on the Olympic course here.

While her PB of 2:25:10 is almost 10 minutes slower than Radcliffe’s, there are those out here who believe she has the better medal chance of the two.

“Paula’s the better runner, but Mara is better prepared,” says Cram.

“The athletes who beat Mara at the Worlds last year (Yamauchi finished ninth) are here, and they’ve run faster than her.

“But she was the top British female last year, and she wants to improve against the rest.”