I suppose the only way to start is to say we all saw it coming. Or at least, those that have followed the sport of triathlon for long enough knew what was about to happen.
There has yet to be an Olympic Games untouched by selection scandals. Dating all the way back to Sydney in 2000 where the home Australian team turned itself inside out with its selection drama, the glittering face of the Games has been pockmarked by scars and warts. It is refreshing to see that, for once, the Australian team has not been involved in the latest imbroglio of selection outcries; give it time, the Australian team has yet to be announced and there are two female slots to be assigned purely on discretionary value. We have heard this song before.
It was tempting to jump into the fray sooner. After all, we have had little hesitation to report and comment on the various doping infractions of the past couple of years. This, however, felt different.
The Olympic Games has been portrayed as the shining peak of triathlon, the jewel in the crown of the sport. To qualify is the ultimate ambition of every athlete and to medal is to insert oneself into the most vaunted of echelons. It is, for want of a better description, the castle upon the hill and all triathletes try to claw their way up to it.
For the majority of athletes, they have qualified fairly and their places are well-deserved. Nevertheless, it is all too clear that this castle is built upon foundations of injustice that are blatant and pervasive.
There is no point naming those that have been unfairly treated in the path to the Paris Olympic Games. We already know their names. Perhaps those that have usurped them will at least recognise in private the absurdity of the situation. The cards have fallen with a clanging thud, one after the other, and more are due to come and it is the people that hold the cards, rather than the athletes that are at their mercy, that deserve scrutiny.
At this moment in time, it is clear that the Olympic qualification process contains too many gaping holes. The allocation of slots for National Olympic Committees (NOCs) over athletes creates a scenario ripe for abuse as administrators play favourites or deploy their “better judgement” over the realities of the qualification window. While the same could have been said before Tokyo, Rio, London and more, it is once again evident that is more important for an athlete’s face to fit than their physical talents proving their Olympic worth. Forget the athletes, the coaches, the commentators: every federation has its chosen few and if you are not among them you may as well spend your time banging your head against a wall.
Ultimately, the only word that matters is “discretionary“.
Those that have seen Love Actually may recall Hugh Grant’s line as the British Prime Minister: “I love that word “relationship.” Covers all manner of sins, doesn’t it?” I love the word discretionary for it covers an equally expansive range of sins.
That they are often arbitrary and a cloak for otherwise unjust decisions has always been known. One modern feature of discretionary selections, though, is the weaponization of silence. The athletes currently on the receiving end of this aspect can attest to it. When they ask for the rationale behind their non-selection, the word “discretionary” is simply floated. There is no explanation, no justification, only a wall. The logic behind this is simple: the national federation cannot be bothered to entertain an appeal and certainly not one that goes all the way to the Court of Arbitration for Sport.
When “discretionary” is the magic word, selection becomes a black box. There are neither public criteria nor clear points of information and as any good lawyer knows you cannot fight what you cannot identify, let alone prove.
The meeting point of the Olympic qualification process in triathlon and discretionary selections is a particularly insidious juncture. Athletes must strive for two years (plus all of the years hitherto to even be in such a position) only for the rug to be swept from their feet at the last. It is for this reason that Olympic triathlon is a poisoned chalice. Every athlete must drink from it in the hope of reaching the castle on the hill and most will be able to do so. Yet the poor minority will fall after swallowing, clasping at the throats as their Olympic dreams are poisoned and die.
To the athletes not named here, everyone knows who you are. Now is not the time to roll over. Now is not the time give in to the abuse of power and injustices by those that have not fought for what you have fought. Now is the time to fight back. If not for yourself, then those that will inevitably follow in your path implore you to do so.
Your federations are counting on you to stay on the floor; they assume you will not resist. But if you make your voices heard you can reclaim the future. You may not turn around this particular injustice. Should enough of you stand, though, you can kill the abuse of the discretionary Olympic selection and protect the Olympic dreams of all those that will follow in your steps. You can remove the poison from the chalice.
Make noise. Be loud. Cause as many problems as you can for those that have wronged you. What more can they take? No one else can burn with same fury as you for no one else can appreciate your pain, so use it.
As for the rest of us that are simply observers, we all knew that Olympic selection was supposed to be cut-throat. That is the nature of elite sport. What was not expected, however, was how many would be stabbed in the back instead.
live it
thanks