Pride Comes Before a Ban

They say that pride comes before a fall, but in Kolo Touré's case – his vanity led him to a 6 month ban by the FA.

Mainstream press have reported that Touré was taking a banned diuretic in a bid to combat a gut that he felt he had. When I first read the reports I turned the page and then returned to story a few minutes later to ensure that my own imagination hadn’t conjured the story. After flicking through a few images of Touré on the internet I could only surmise that his pudgy tummy was a mere figment of his imagination – or something he masks well when out in public. Either way, it was a little surprising to hear that someone who seemingly has the world at his feet could be temporarily brought down by insecurity.

Touré isn’t the only athlete whose apparent body dysmorphia had a profound impact on his career.

LaShawn Merritt has probably resigned himself to the fact that he will be the butt of endless jokes regarding his doping faux pas. When Merritt tested positive for DHEA, he attributed the banned substance to a male enhancement product he was taking. Fortunately (or unfortunately) there are no public images for me to review for the purpose of research, but I somehow doubt he needed to jeopardise his career in order to correct his perceived shortcoming. (Yes, the pun was intended)

It just goes to show that no amount of success, fame or money can appease the funhouse mirror vision your own eyes can view your image with – which in itself is a relief and a disappointment.

Both fans and athletes alike sometimes forget that athletes are not superheroes. They are mere mortals who struggle with the same issues that we do – except they have a much further fall from grace when they make a dodgy decision.

Whether motivated by vanity or a competitive nature - pride always comes before a ban.

Too Much Too Soon?

The wall in Hillaby, Barbados which bears Brathwaite's image

On 20th August, 2009, Ryan Brathwaite of little known Hillaby, St Andrew, Barbados thrust Barbados into the sporting spotlight when he took gold at the IAAF World Championships in the 110m hurdles.

Bajans all over the world were proud to add his name to the list of other Bajans who have reminded the rest of the world that despite its size, the Antillean isle produces superstars such as Sir Garfield Sobers, Obadele Thompson and Rihanna.

However, after Ryan’s mediocre performance at the recent Golden Spike meet, it was clear that the difference between Ryan and the afore mentioned Bajan superstars is that the excellence they have achieved in their respective fields is consistent and credible.

Yes, I said credible. You see, what many refused to acknowledge is that Ryan achieved his goal in a competition that was void of competition. Although Ryan ran an impressive 13.89, neither China’s neither Liu Xian (PB 12.88) nor Cuba’s Dayron Robles (PB 12.89) were on the starting line that day. Had the usual suspects been in attendance that day, Ryan might have brought home a bronze medal.

I’m not trying to detract from Ryan’s achievement; to the contrary, I am querying whether or not Barbados’ reaction to Ryan’s medal was premature. After all, at the tender of age of 21 with just one gold medal under his belt Ryan was showered with material possessions, appointed as an ambassador and even had a wall in St Andrew, transformed with his image.

How is an athlete meant to strive for more when they are not appropriately incentivised throughout their development? Especially when there are younger, hungrier athletes devoting every spare moment to personal excellence.

I’m normally in favour of athletes from developing countries being handsomely rewarded for their achievements, but in this situation I can’t help but wonder if the level of recognition was inappropriate for not only the athlete but the achievement. Rebuttals are welcomed.

Jump Out Yuh Bamsie

‘Jump out yuh bamsie’. Not a phrase you hear every day but one that Mark Daly was renowned for using when he needed you to make the seemingly impossible possible.

I’d like to assume that most of the international volleyball fraternity knows who Mark Daly was and why he was so loved, but for those who don’t know, Mark Daly was the Trinidad and Tobago men’s national team captain who dutifully represented his country for 12 years before his untimely death in 2009. More than an athlete, he was a loving father to his daughter Kai, devoted fiance to girlfriend Kecia, beloved son and brother, dedicated coach, dependable friend, model citizen and all round inspirational individual.

If the people he left behind are even a glimmer of a reflection of the kind of person he was, there is no doubt that Trinidad has truly lost a gem.

During the 2nd annual tournament held in his honour, his former teammates are like worker bees – ensuring that everyone has their kit, helping out in the kitchen, keeping an eye out for the children at the tournament and refereeing each other’s games. ‘That’s how Mark was,’ explains T&T women’s national team captain Kelly-Anne Billingy. ‘Mark was so dedicated to this sport and was always happy to help. He never complained, never said a bad word. We really wanted to make sure that there we could establish some sort of event that would honour his contribution and keep his memory alive.’

A number of the national players attribute their involvement and dedication to Daly’s influence. Spending a day juggling coaching, mentoring and playing was apparently typical for the former national captain. Senior team members tell me he was always happy to take time out if you needed his ear – and instead of influencing a decision he would simply act as a sounding board and ensure you understood the options available and the potential ramifications associated with each.

As an athlete he was a force to be reckoned with and played with an intensity that defied his off-court persona. Never satisfied with being ordinary, he was always up to date with the latest developments in volleyball. He was a naturally talented athlete with a strong serve, strong block and the ability to frustrate the block with his foresight and consistency as an outside hitter.

When I asked Kelly if she remembered where she was when she learned of Mark’s death – her eyes couldn’t hide the pain that accompanies the memory. She remembered the date, the time of the morning, who she was sitting next to – everything. As was the case with Hollis Charles, Aisha Sealy-Morrison and Sean-Miguel Morrison.

Hollis tells me of Mark’s signature smile and cool-as-a-cucumber temperament. Aisha recalls how his eyes seemed to be able to see straight into your heart and Sean knows so much about Mark that he is probably qualified to write an autobiography.

‘For some reason, in every game he managed to jump serve either behind the antenna or hit the referee stand,’ recalls Morrison. ‘That was the only time you could get a chuckle from him on court. Apart from that, he had venom in his eyes as soon the whistle blew. Who he was on court was different from who he was off-court, though. When he wasn’t actually playing volleyball he was always willing to help out both a friend and stranger in need’.

Whether he was a mere mortal or truly an angel, Daly has definitely left a mark on all who have come into contact with him. His impact is felt at the annual tournament which despite being highly competitive, is buzzing with a type of love and respect that can only be observed – not described. Though I’ve not had the privilege of meeting him personally, I can’t help but feel that by participating in this tournament, I now have an obligation to ‘jump out meh bamsie’ and strive for excellence not just as an athlete, but as a person and I suspect that I am not the only one who senses this call of duty.