One of my least-favourite themes in New Zealand sport is the elevation of niche sports when it suits a narrative.
That is, were a New Zealander to become world champion in hopscotch, we would suddenly find a legion of hopscotch experts among the media and the public.
The number of hopscotch fans would instantly flourish and talkback lines would be clogged by armchair hopscotch critics dispensing wisdom they recently read on Wikipedia.
This, of course, is because New Zealand is a small country. We have to worship our world champions because there aren't many of them. If that means pretending a sport is important for a couple of weeks, so be it.
Countries with impressive sporting pedigree, like Australia or the United States, would barely raise an eyebrow if one of their own claimed a world championship in mountain running (we love you, Melissa Moon) because no one cares about mountain running.
But, in New Zealand, we act like we care so we can bask in the glow of being best in the world at something - even if it's something relatively trivial.
Today I discovered clutching on to achievements in minor sports is hardly a phenomenon unique to New Zealand. India, a small country in sporting standards, share Kiwis' enthusiasm for inconsequential sports when one of their citizens is doing well.
(Disclaimer: Chess is not, and will never be, sport. I don't want to be one of those sports Nazis who decree what does and doesn't qualify, but chess doesn't qualify. Simple. For the purposes of this post, chess will be treated as sport for one afternoon only.)
Turns out India, a country with just 26 Olympic medals in history, is home to the five-time world chess champion. And the media want you to know about it.
In today's Deccan Herald, I came across a story unlike any I had ever read: a blow-by-blow account of a chess match.
Viswanathan Anand, the undisputed chess world champion since 2007, is currently competing at the Chess Masters Finals in Sao Paulo, Brazil. He, apparently, utilised some stubborn defence to force a draw with an Italian player in the third round - a summary which doesn't do justice to the story.
The tactics, the technique and the strategy were all broken down in an account which made the match seem momentous. At the end of the 400-word wrap, the individual moves were listed like a cricket scoreboard.
A third-round draw in a tournament below the pinnacle of the sport wouldn't normally warrant that kind of coverage but, because Anand is the world champ in a nation with few, he's given the world champ treatment by the local media.
If he were merely making up the numbers at the tournament, the story would have been a brief at best. If he were American, the story would have failed to register except among chess aficionados.
But because India is starved of sporting success that doesn't involve leather smacking against willow, Anand's progress is eagerly followed.
I can only imagine the zeal in New Zealand if we had a player in a similar position. I remember reading stories of less-noble games like scrabble or monopoly in the media when there was a Kiwi involved, so chess would undoubtedly take on great importance if we were doing well.
I have no problem with a bit of self-congratulating but it needs to remain in context. Not all world championships are created equal and not all world champions need to be lauded to the same degree.
We can still recognise athletes like Melissa Moon, as long as we also recognise sports like mountain running might be a bit fringe for Halberg awards.
If a Kiwi became the world champ in hopscotch, however, we might as well call off the show. The supreme prize would be a formality.
That is, were a New Zealander to become world champion in hopscotch, we would suddenly find a legion of hopscotch experts among the media and the public.
The number of hopscotch fans would instantly flourish and talkback lines would be clogged by armchair hopscotch critics dispensing wisdom they recently read on Wikipedia.
This, of course, is because New Zealand is a small country. We have to worship our world champions because there aren't many of them. If that means pretending a sport is important for a couple of weeks, so be it.
Countries with impressive sporting pedigree, like Australia or the United States, would barely raise an eyebrow if one of their own claimed a world championship in mountain running (we love you, Melissa Moon) because no one cares about mountain running.
But, in New Zealand, we act like we care so we can bask in the glow of being best in the world at something - even if it's something relatively trivial.
Today I discovered clutching on to achievements in minor sports is hardly a phenomenon unique to New Zealand. India, a small country in sporting standards, share Kiwis' enthusiasm for inconsequential sports when one of their citizens is doing well.
(Disclaimer: Chess is not, and will never be, sport. I don't want to be one of those sports Nazis who decree what does and doesn't qualify, but chess doesn't qualify. Simple. For the purposes of this post, chess will be treated as sport for one afternoon only.)
Turns out India, a country with just 26 Olympic medals in history, is home to the five-time world chess champion. And the media want you to know about it.
In today's Deccan Herald, I came across a story unlike any I had ever read: a blow-by-blow account of a chess match.
Viswanathan Anand, the undisputed chess world champion since 2007, is currently competing at the Chess Masters Finals in Sao Paulo, Brazil. He, apparently, utilised some stubborn defence to force a draw with an Italian player in the third round - a summary which doesn't do justice to the story.
The tactics, the technique and the strategy were all broken down in an account which made the match seem momentous. At the end of the 400-word wrap, the individual moves were listed like a cricket scoreboard.
A third-round draw in a tournament below the pinnacle of the sport wouldn't normally warrant that kind of coverage but, because Anand is the world champ in a nation with few, he's given the world champ treatment by the local media.
If he were merely making up the numbers at the tournament, the story would have been a brief at best. If he were American, the story would have failed to register except among chess aficionados.
But because India is starved of sporting success that doesn't involve leather smacking against willow, Anand's progress is eagerly followed.
I can only imagine the zeal in New Zealand if we had a player in a similar position. I remember reading stories of less-noble games like scrabble or monopoly in the media when there was a Kiwi involved, so chess would undoubtedly take on great importance if we were doing well.
I have no problem with a bit of self-congratulating but it needs to remain in context. Not all world championships are created equal and not all world champions need to be lauded to the same degree.
We can still recognise athletes like Melissa Moon, as long as we also recognise sports like mountain running might be a bit fringe for Halberg awards.
If a Kiwi became the world champ in hopscotch, however, we might as well call off the show. The supreme prize would be a formality.
No comments:
Post a Comment