Bound for Beijing

Goodbye Olympics, hello Beijing

The Summer Games wrapped up Sunday but my time in China is not over.

It’s time to see the other side of the city, the one far away from the Olympic compound. I’m sticking around for a week to do the tourist thing. I figure it would be a crime to leave Beijing having only seen one facet.

So I’ll check in my suitcase and computer and then it’s just me and my backpack.

The plan is to camp for two days on the Great Wall of China. I’m going to spend a good day hiking a remote area of the wall, then sleep in one of the towers and stare up at the star-filled sky. I’ll be sure to wake up extra early to see the sunrise with a cup of green tea in hand.

I’ll hit the other obvious attractions — the Forbidden City, Summer Palace and Tiananmen Square. I’m going to try my hand at haggling at the famous Silk Market, home to everything counterfeit. I heard you can get a Rolex watch
for $20, if you bargain hard.

I’m looking forward to trying some local cuisine, though I’m staying away from animals that are used as pets, seen in a zoo or anything creepy crawly.

I’m curious to see if all the smiling faces and eager “ni-haos” that I’m greeted with every day are the norm around town. My guess is that the enthusiasm may wane a bit but that locals will embrace Canadians in need of translation help.

Covering the Summer Games has been a dream assignment. It’s as big as it gets in sports reporting and was always one of my professional goals.

The first couple of days were overwhelming. I watched in awe as veteran reporters moved about with few problems. Soon, I got the gist of how things worked and it was smooth sailing the rest of the way.

I’m told the logistics at these Games rank right up there with the best. Some say Beijing should be a blueprint for future Olympics. It’s hard for me to know the difference having just covered it once, but the attention to detail put into this event is something I never expected. I haven’t had any problems doing my job and for that I’m extremely thankful.

I think this is day 19 or 20 straight. I’ve lost track. There have been some long nights and skipped meals but it was all worth it. I’ve marvelled at the sights, heard and seen some inspiring stories and chuckled often at the differences between our cultures.

The differences that surprise me daily. Even on my last meal in the media cafeteria. One keen young man dished out my lunch Sunday afternoon, handed me the plate, and with great earnest said: “pleasure yourself.”

I thought about correcting him, but he looked so proud at his attempt to break the language barrier. So I just smiled, nodded and said thanks.

Covering the Olympics has indeed been a pleasure.
jbrown@therecord.com

British invasion

Surprised to see the United Kingdom poised to take fourth overall in the medal standings? Don’t be.

The next Summer Games are in London, England after all. And countries who host the Olympics tend to push more money and resources into athletics leading up to the event. That way, they hope, they won’t disappoint on home soil.

So, what we’re seeing is probably just the beginning for the Brits. They’re aiming to peak in 2016 but getting some early results.

To prove the point, look at China’s performance in these Games. Also, back in 2000, when the Games were in Sydney, Australia, the home nation finished fourth overall with 58 medals, its best haul to date.

We saw glimpses of this trend at work at the last Winter Games in Torino, Italy. Canada won 24 medals and was third overall in total medals. Coincidentally, we host the next Winter Olympics.

Opporunity lost

China is still grasping the free market idea.

You have millions of people flocking to the Olympic grounds in Beijing during the course of the Games but you have to hunt high and low to find a souvenir store. You’d think they’d be hawking stuff on every corner and certainly at every venue. But it’s not the case.

There are a few official souvenir stores around town but virtually nothing at the events themselves.

And another thing, there is almost no concession presence either. Some of the venues have zero concessions while others offer only the bare minimum, something akin to a local hockey rink, but not as good.

You’re getting 90,000 people twice a day to the National Stadium and all you can get is some basic munchies.

Then again, maybe they know their market. Chinese people aren’t big on snacking on crap, which might explain why everyone here is so thin. But the chubby foreigners would certainly devour a slice of pizza or juicy hot dog — not the pre-packaged kind they have here wrapped in a croissant.

Just thinking it’s an opportunity lost is all. The Games did cost $40 billion and they might want to make some of the money back.

Worst seat in the house

There were more than 100 security guards at Saturday’s gold medal men’s soccer final between Argentina and Nigeria. It was a great game, with Argentina edging their opponents 1-0.

The poor security guards were all seated about 10-metres apart around the oval on the track. But they had their backs to the action. There they sat for the entire two-hour game, never once turning around to check out the play. The crowd was oohing and ahhing like mad, but the curiosity never got the better of the security guards.

Man, that is some serious will power. Just think if one of them was a soccer fan, sitting there in the front row, facing the wrong way. Pure torture.

Jumping the gun

All the media received an e-mail from the Canadian Olympic Committee Saturday morning with a list of athlete return dates to Canada.

It had the times and locations for arrivals so that media back home could meet up at the airport for interviews. Just want athletes want to do after a 12-hour flight, another interview.

But the funny part, well maybe not so funny, is that the COC put an asterisk next to the names of all the medal winners. And there was one next to flag bearer Adam van Koeverden. Of course, at the time, the canoe-kayaker had yet to hit the podium. Though a heavy favourite, the Oakville native finished a disappointing eighth in his opening race. He did rebound for a silver in the K1 500 metres Saturday.

Garbage pickers

Time is winding down in Beijing. Just two more days to go until the Olympics end.

And so, I’m trying to shed some belongings to lighten the ole’ suitcase. I brought a lot of media guides and reference books to be ultra-prepared, even though I didn’t use any of them. So I’m pitching stuff daily, 'cause the suckers are heavy.

But every time I try to throw things out, the cleaners keep taking them out of the garbage bin in my room and neatly stacking the books and used notepads on my desk. As if they’re just making sure I didn’t accidentally throw something important out.

I keeping tossing the stuff and they keep retrieving it. At first it was cute but now I don’t know how to get rid of it. Maybe they’re hoping I’ll leave it — which I will — and they can take all the Olympic programs and books among the lot.

After all, used Olympic tickets and guides are an hot item in Beijing. They’re being sold on the internet and on the street.

17 hours, 11 bus rides, 10 events . . . A reporter's Olympic decathlon

Call it a reporter’s decathlon.Get to 10 different Olympic events across Beijing in one single day.
Impossible? Maybe. Crazy? Certainly. But that was my goal at the Summer Games Friday and it all started with the buzzing of my alarm clock.

6 a.m. — I jump into the shower at the media residence and, for the 17th consecutive day, smile at the sign slapped on the porcelain tiles that reads: “Warning, wet floor.”

6:45 a.m. — My bag goes through security just fine but the guards make me take a swig from my bottle of water, just to prove it’s not a liquid bomb. No lie.

7:27 a.m. — I arrive at the National Stadium for the men’'s 50-kilometre walk but it'’s fenced off. I panic, then realize the course extends out of the stadium right past me. Now I have a front row seat. Score. Soon the walkers emerge and France’s Yohan Diniz is in first. I shout “Allez! Allez!” in support. One event down, nine to go.

7:55 a.m. — On the bus to women’'s field hockey. The first ride of many. To my surprise, the bus stinks like cigarette smoke, a first at the Games. Nothing like the aroma of nicotine first thing in the morning.

8:31 a.m. — Press seats are under the scorching sun. A kind volunteer brings me a cold bottle of water. I toss a Canadian pin her way. The stadium is one third full and many “fans” are actually volunteers wearing white shirts. I think back to all those clips of locals lining up for hours to buy tickets earlier this summer and wonder if it even happened. Marsha Marescia puts South Africa ahead of New Zealand 1-0 and I’'m out the door.

9:23 a.m. — The bus to beach volleyball is a few minutes late and a reporter from Atlanta is complaining. Ironic because the 1996 Games in Atlanta are considered one of the worst-run Olympics ever. Brits here still talk about the day they missed a gold medal win after a bus driver went two hours in the wrong direction.

10:16 a.m. — I arrive at beach volleyball to find two inflatable mascots competing at centre court. The place is packed and going nuts. I'’m confused. But then 12 beautiful women in bright red bikinis stroll out to dance for the crowd and it all makes sense. Mist machines activate and cool the sweaty crowd. Mist, bikini dancers, music. I have found my new favourite event. Oh, the U.S. beats Brazil for the gold.

Noon — A quick stop for lunch. I’'m already feeling weak and I'’m just three events in. I load up on pasta for the carbs and guzzle my third bottle of water. Back to the bus station.

1:30 p.m. — The fans are out in full force for boxing at the Workers’ Gymnasium. A wealthy looking Russian climbs out of a black luxury car with tinted windows and enters with a blonde bombshell on his arm. But it'’s Cuban Andris Hernandez Laffita who edges Russian Georgy Balakshin 9-8, scoring the winning point with mere seconds left in the bout. A great venue with a Vegas-style ring that sits well lit on a lush blue carpet.

2 p.m. — No sun screen this morning was a big mistake. I’'m gassing large. Another bottle of water goes down. A power nap on the bus helps a bit. How am I going to make it? I'’m not even halfway yet.

2:34 p.m. — The bus to ping pong, er, table tennis, is ready and waiting. Maybe this is the break I need.

3:02 p.m. — No empty seats at the Peking University gym. Table tennis is China'’s hockey. It'’s singles quarter-finals and the fans give an enthusiastic “ooh-ooh” every time the ball is hit in long rallies.

3:40 p.m. — All these bus rides are taking their toll. I get to team synchronized swimming just in time to see the end of the final routine. Is it just me, or does that Martin Short synchro parody skit pop into your head every time you watch the sport?

5:06 p.m. — I'’m supposed to be at men’'s water polo. Instead, I'’m dropped off at the modern pentathlon. I have no idea this sport existed. Then I read it is comprised of five events — shooting, fencing, swimming, show jumping and a 3,000-metre run. Did someone put all the sports in a hat and draw five? Anyway, this portion is the show jumping. One horse, Jingjing, was not in a good mood. Pulled up lame before four jumps on one run. Ouch.

6:14 p.m. — Three more events to go. Off to team handball, a cross between basketball and soccer. It kind of reminds me of lacrosse too. Looks like a lot fun. Why don'’t we play this in Canada? What, we do? Oh. This game between Croatia and France is a rough one. Guys falling all over the floor.

7:31 p.m. — Across the street to the Aquatic Centre for men'’s 10-metre platform diving. You couldn’'t talk me into a cannonball off the top tier, let alone a handstand on the edge. Not good with heights. Big respect to these dudes.

8:20 p.m. — A quick bite to eat. The stir fried celery with my dinner turns out to be bitter boiled melon. I throw up a little in my mouth.

10:01 p.m. — The finish line is here. I walk down to the stands of the National Stadium to see 90,000 people doing the wave. Canada'’s 4x100-metre men'’s relay team comes in sixth. Jamaica (who else?) takes gold.

A fitting ending to a long day. From walking to sprinting and eight events in between.
By the numbers it went down like this: 17 hours, 11 bus rides, 10 events, eight venues, seven Canadian pins doled out to volunteers, five bottles of water consumed and zero phone numbers from beach girls.
And as I type this final sentence, a look at the clock shows one hour until midnight. That means the media bar is still open and there is a nice glass of red wine waiting with my name on it.
jbrown@therecord.com

Success not measured in medals

A week ago, reporters were racing to be the first ones to declare disaster for Canada at the Beijing Olympics.

Now, we’ve surpassed the medal count from the 2004 Summer Games in Athens and will likely finish among the top 16 nations in the world, a goal set out by the Canadian Olympic Committee from the on-set.

But I could care less how many medals we win as a nation. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy for those who hit the podium. In fact, I’m thrilled for them. But pounding my chest and being No. 1 isn’t something that makes me proud to be Canadian.

It’s the little things. The stuff you don’t always see or hear about at the Games.

Like the opening ceremonies when Canada received, perhaps, the biggest ovation of all the 200 plus countries in attendance, save for hosts China, Chinese Taipei and Hong Kong.

Or the smiling faces of our female athletes — yes female — marching along the oval track at the National Stadium. Ask their equivalents from some Middle Eastern and African countries how they enjoyed the ceremony, that is, if you can find any.

There was Waterloo’s Keith Beavers in the mixed zone, giving his final interview before retiring. His five-minute allotment was monopolized by a reporter from the United States who wanted to know how the swimmer felt about Michael Phelps.

Imagine the reaction if I had given Phelps the same treatment. “So, Michael, what do you think about Keith Beavers?” Security: “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

But the Region of Waterloo Swim Club member smiled politely and answered every one of the American’s questions. And then HIS time was up.

Then there’s Stratford swimmer Julia Wilkinson, who competed in six events. Her folks, like most Canadian parents, fortunate enough to afford to fly to China and sit in the stands for every one of her races. A privilege not shared by families of athletes from some other countries.

How about Calgary’s Ari Taub, the 37-year-old Greco-Roman wrestler whose road to Beijing was 16 years in the making. The six-foot-three, 269-pounder had Chinese volunteers virtually in tears when he lost his opening bout because, unlike other athletes, he made them feel special by simply saying hello and thank you every time he walked into the gym.

Pin collecting has become an obsession for the 70,000 volunteers. We’re asked several times daily to add to their collection. But when I go to hand over a Canadian flag pin, I find someone has already beaten me to it. Pins from other countries? A rarity.

It’s learning that most Canadian athletes, such as Cambridge runner Nathan Brannen, who suffered serious injuries within the past year were able to get the free medical help they needed to be ready for the Olympics.

Heck, on a personal level, the fact that I can blog my opinion and read it on-line in my own country is an honour. The same can’t be said for journalists here.

But mostly, it’s the reaction you get when you are simply walking down the street in Beijing and somebody sees the red maple leaf, whether it’s a small pin on your bag or a large logo on your shirt.

It’s like a magnet for smiles.

Strangers call out to you and give you the thumbs up. Some spark up conversations. You can hear the envy in their voice.

We’re well liked. Respected. Admired. Not because we win medals. But because of the way we carry ourselves and show compassion and understanding for others.

Many reporters here feel sorry for us over our lack of podium success. Americans especially think we must be just devastated. And sure, athletically, we don’t stack up against the best in the world.

But by reputation? We’re gold medal winners, hands down.

Service with a smile

I’ve never seen so many people clean something that is already clean, than here in Beijing.

People are always busy, washing windows, wiping down doors, cleaning the floors. You name it. If something needs doing, someone is ready and waiting.

Thursday morning, my bagel got stuck in the toaster at breakfast. It was one of those conveyor type toasters where you put the toast, or in my case a bagel, on the rack and it’s whisked under the heat until it’s nice and crispy before sliding out the bottom.

Well, my bagel got caught at the back and was started to get darker and darker and darker. I was scared that the smoke alarm was going to go off but in a heartbeart a team of four cafeteria staff were by my side with tongs and a long spoon, trying to pry it free. None of it was working but a young lady emerged with the world’s longest pair of chop sticks and with one quick poke, disaster was averted.

After breakfast, it was pouring rain. The walk from the cafeteria to the bus was like going from your front door to the end of your driveway. I was prepared to get wet but before I knew it, a helpful volunteer was by my side, walking pace for pace, holding an umbrella over my head.

I could seriously get used to this.

Small town support

It was a nice story out on the wrestling mat Thursday.

Travis Cross, of Port Alberni, British Columbia had his own personal cheering section. More than 60 people from the small town on Vancouver Island (population: 18,000) flew to Beijing for support, including the mayor.

The entire town rallied to help fuel Cross’ dream. There were fundraisers, personal donations and school kids even emptied their piggy banks.

The firefighter’s co-workers took over his shifts for the six months leading up to the Games so he could concentrate on training.

Unfortunately, Cross lost his first bout on a weird wrestling rule. He actually tied his opponent, but in wrestling the last one to score wins.

But he was grateful for the experience.

“I feel really lucky to have 64 people from my home town here, including my wife. It's great to have their support. I could hear them cheer for me. Port Alberni is your typical small Canadian town. When an athlete makes it to the Olympics, the town really rallies behind them. I hope this inspires other towns to do it for their athletes as well.”