The Olympics are not relatable, thankfully.
Relatability is the under-the-bed-covers, cunnilingus-performing, 69er gigolo nephew of narrow-mindedness. “Unless I can see myself doing it, it holds no interest for me.” Really? It drags us down like inferi, sucking us into a “no point in ever leaving this valley” mentality which is the very counter of the human condition.
We are built to strive, to improve, to evolve, to explore. We should celebrate the extremities of human-kind, because they are helping advance our race. Of course I will never land a quad-cork (it’s unlikely I will ever get beyond a triple), but I want to see it being done, because it is a celebration of the same instinct that drove us to discover the wheel, to invent sanitation, to create the spaceship.
It is us, trying to do our best. It’s progression.
“The Olympians’ 5am oat smoothies, six hour gym sessions and knee-busting acrobatics are in no way relatable. Thank fuck for that”
Yes, it would be quite fun to see a competition where the riders could only do a method, but if that was all there was in our world, it would be ridiculous. Our sport would be freeze-dried into a permanent stasis. It would be like running the 100m barefoot on a dust track and timing it with a sun dial. It would be like Formula 1 racing with a man walking in front with a red flag. It would be like living in mud huts… but hell, we would have some really fucking nice-looking mud huts, man.
I want to see other human beings pushing themselves to their limits, testing what is possible with our DNA sequence. Olympic athletes dedicate their lives to the pursuit of excellence, generally getting paid f*ck-all along the way – turning themselves into anthropological, physiological and psychological test cases which means that we don’t have to do the same in order to know what is humanly possible. Their 5am oat smoothies, six hour gym sessions and airbag exploding, knee-busting acrobatics are in no way relatable. Thank fuck for that.
I get that we need a “bridge”, something we can latch onto which helps us understand what we are seeing. That’s normal. After all, an ugly, schlubby guy like Ron Jeremy (who I once met on the train, and he was complaining about 1st class seats not reclining… weird) had a long… err… career because guys could imagine themselves being him far more easily than a smooth-chested guy with abs. But I don’t want the Olympic athletes to be a bit like me, that would just be boring. Long live the freaks that I can’t relate to.