An Olympic Mulligan?

Women’s ski jumping is not worthy of Olympic representation, but golf is. That is the inference that the International Olympic Committee has made clear with their August 13th announcement that Chicago 2016 will officially reinstate golf as an Olympic event. This comes as a serious shock to me, and one that I find upsetting. The question as to whether golf truly deserves its spot in the Olympics is a hot topic amongst many athletes, myself and my teammates included. Canmore is an especially interesting place for this debate, given that so many of the residents are athletes, and so many of the tourists are golfers. To answer this question we first need to understand the broader question of what the Olympics are, and what they mean.
The Olympics are the pinnacle of human achievement, a celebration of the youth of the world. They are also an expression of freedom, one of the last remaining bastions of fairness and equality, a place of athletic triumph amidst an otherwise often bleak political landscape. With a warming planet, illegal wars, massive financial corruption, and a litany of other problems facing the world today, the Olympics should stand as a place where people can interact and compete without all the baggage of every day life, as equals on a level playing field, the sole goal being the celebration of personal and thereby collective accomplishment. As one of the founders of the modern Games, Pierre de Coubertin once said. “All sports for all people.” He declared. “In no way can sport be considered a luxury object.” Does golf, a leisure activity of the upper class requiring lots of money and little physical exertion, really belong alongside Olympic power lifting and the hundred-meter sprint? If not, what of other sports like curling, or equestrian? Clearly, there is more at stake here than another feather in Tiger Wood’s hat.
What is interesting about this question of golf is that it is the opposite side of a coin that’s already been tossed once before. Earlier this year, women’s ski jumping was faced with the same IOC decision, and sadly they lost. Immediately the issue of gender equality, for a sport that already has a long-standing men’s field, became a hot topic. Other arguments about the level of competition, and calibre of the athletes involved were also voiced. In her July ruling, Justice Lauri Anne Fenlon of the BC supreme court, which lacked the authority to overrule the IOC, did go so far as to say this: “Many of the men the plaintiffs have trained with and competed against as peers will be Olympians; the plaintiffs will be denied this opportunity for no reason other than their sex.”
While still considered a small victory for those involved, these comments are slightly off the mark. The IOC would very much like this debate to be about gender equality, just as they would like the golf debate to be about athleticism and tradition. Why? Because they have battalions of lawyers and experts ready and armed to fight those particular battles. What they don’t want discussed, whether in regards to ski jumping or golf, are their real motives. Baring women from ski jumping has, in reality, nothing to do with gender equality or competitiveness, just as allowing golf has nothing to do with the athleticism of the players. No, both of these cases are clear indicators of the IOC’s true objective: to bring in the highest TV ratings possible.
How else would one explain these two, otherwise contradictory rulings? The arguments against women’s ski jumping are based on the premise that the technical merit and competitiveness of the athletes is not sufficient to warrant Olympic gold medals. According to the IOC, men can compete in ski jumping, but allowing women, who train just as hard, the same opportunity would somehow water down the pool of potential gold medal winners, degrading the achievements of other athletes. And yet, they don’t see any problem with the possibility that somebody with the dubious athletic grace of John Daly might stand atop an Olympic podium (structural concerns aside)? Women’s ski jumping has a long pedigree of excellence, and a rich history, as does golf. Both require the perfection of a very difficult (and in the one case dangerous) skill. Both are very popular events, drawing crowds of thousands, but it is here that the similarities end. Ski jumping fans are primarily European, as are their major sponsors and equipment suppliers. That doesn’t hold much sway with the corporate backers of the Olympics, especially for Chicago 2016. Golf, on the other hand, draws thousands of spectators and millions of North American TV viewers, many of whom will then go out and buy from an industry that is one of the most profitable on the continent. The coincidence of golf being added in time for the next American Olympics is hard to ignore. If this really were not about capitalizing on golf’s money making potential, why not bring it back in time for London 2012, especially with so many host courses for the British Open already in place?
The discussion over which sports belong in the Olympics is an important one, and is crucial to the continued legitimacy of the Olympic movement. What troubles me is that, regardless of your stance, none of the real issues seem to be even on the table. As someone who is striving to be a part of the Olympic movement, I have to wonder if the interests of big business are being placed ahead of such important, healthy debate. Is this decision really about whether golfers like Tiger Woods, or ski jumpers like Canada’s Katie Willis deserve a place on the Olympic podium or is it about how much money can be made by putting them there?
On the mountain, as in life, always ride that high line, even if the IOC isn’t.

Now That's Progress

It’s always surprising to me how much I enjoy the Haig Glacier. Who’d have thought that being sequestered on a mountain, many kilometres from the nearest flush toilet, living in cramped, stuffy huts and doing nothing but eating, sleeping, skiing and playing scrabble for a week can be so much fun. There are not exactly a lot of activities to fill your day with up here, but those few things that you can do are best described as epic; hours spent simply eating as much as possible or skiing so many circles on the same six kilometre loop that it becomes difficult to remember what day it is let alone what lap you are on. And of course, there are the dead-to-the-world naps. Located on the Haig Glacier, at the border between Alberta and B.C. in Kananaskis Country, the Beckie Scott Centre for High Altitude Training on the Haig Glacier is a place that is well known to nearly every high-level cross-country skier and biathlete in Canada. This week is my ninth time at the Haig, and I still look forward to these camps. Training here every year for the past five, I have noticed changes. A three-hour trail run from Upper Kananaskis Lakes takes you along the Upper Kananaskis River, onto interminable switch-backs, (which, despite their seemingly infinite character do eventually end) then back into the shade of spruce trees near Lawson Lake. Growing up in Northern Ontario has its benefits, but it certainly doesn’t prepare you for the quiet beauty of the alpine meadows that the trail crosses. The last twenty-five minutes of the run is a less-than-pleasant climb up over the ridge from the campground at Turbine Falls and into the rock field moonscape where the training centre huts are located. A helicopter airlifts our bags and skis in for us, and with only one flight a week forgetting your Birkenstocks is not an option.
A typical day at the Haig starts at seven am with breakfast, followed by a forty-five minute hike from the main camp up to the glacier proper. That’s a fair amount of effort just to reach the snow, so once we’re up there we might as well ski…a lot. I’m shooting for twenty-eight hours over the six days that we’re here, and that won’t even be a record for me, much less the camp. The snow conditions can be very challenging, but thanks to some superb grooming by the CODA (Calgary Olympic Development Association) guys who run the camp, having mid-February conditions are not as uncommon as one might think. The CODA guys are also responsible for some of the best eating to be had anywhere in Alberta. Don’t believe me? Try Jody’s coconut curry and rice, and you’ll soon change your tune. After a huge post-ski lunch comes my favourite part: napping. Maybe it’s something about high-altitude air and low oxygen, but napping at the Haig is almost akin to a religious experience. A scrabble game or an afternoon movie is followed by another demonstration of culinary prowess in massive quantities, followed by sleep. Then, get up and do it all again, for a week straight. We’re all incredibly lucky to have the chance to train at a place like this. The alpine facility at Farnham Glacier was recently closed, denying Canada’s up and coming alpine skiers the same opportunity. It takes an exhausting amount of effort on the part of CODA and everyone else involved to keep this place running for us, and they deserve more thanks than they get. After all, this place is pretty isolated.
Not so isolated, however, as to escape the machinations of pop culture. It is pervasive even amongst the marmots and rock. That’s to be expected in such an activity-restricted place. After all, magazines are pretty easy to carry. Still, I’ve always looked forward to these weeklong training camps for the same reason that Bow Valley backcountry skiers, hikers, climbers and other adventure enthusiasts enjoy their trips: it’s a chance to get away from the world. As a political science student, I do miss keeping up on current events, but for the most part I enjoy being away from it all.
Away from it, that is, until the news of Michael Jackson’s death forced it’s way into our lives during our last camp in June. In a place surrounded by such rugged natural beauty, somewhere that you’d expect to be as far from pop media as one could reasonably get, the news of Jackson’s death reached us within, I am told, less than an hour of his body being found. Less than an hour for news to travel not just from city to city across a continent, but to penetrate the backcountry of the Canadian Rockies. And we’re not talking about the death of a president, or the collapse of a symbolic wall. We’re talking about an over-the-hill pop musician, and the rapt fascination with which we discussed his death while eating dinner at twenty four hundred metres says something about progress. Playing scrabble between workouts, I am surrounded by no less than five laptops (admittedly one of which is mine). Two years ago there were none. Four years ago there was no satellite TV, let alone Internet (even if it is for only a few precious minutes a day). I won’t bother to count the number of iPods. To be fair, these luxuries serve a very important purpose. The reason we all come up here is to access some of the best training in Canada, and no reasonable expense is spared to help us relax and recover between workouts. The couches, TV and board games are not utterly frivolous. What’s more, many of us are also part time students, and having access to the web means we can continue our academics (or submit a newspaper article on time) even from such a remote place. What I find interesting is that, given the stunning geography of this place, we still choose to surround ourselves with pop culture. Our daily lives are full to the brim with gadgets whose only purpose is to facilitate our access to Facebook, to instant connectedness. I’m as guilty of it as anyone. With such a diverse team, the microcosm of society that is life at the Haig makes for some interesting food for thought…after we’ve arrived back in Canmore on Friday that is. Right now I’m far too tired for such deep thoughts.
As always: On the mountain as in life, always ride that high line.

Canmore Folk Festival

Photos from the weekend.

http://picasaweb.google.ca/centurydigitalboy21/MovingMountains#