THE recollections come sporadically, unexpectedly, crashing into his consciousness like waves against the bow of his boat.
THE recollections come sporadically, unexpectedly, crashing into his consciousness like waves against the bow of his boat.
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Richard Winton
The black tracksuit. A crowded corridor. Snatches of music. And then a flicker of light and a feeling unlike any he had experienced before or ever will again. Callum Airlie smiles at the memory. "Mind-blowing," he says. "Just incredible."
More often than not, such words depreciate when delivered by a teenager, wasted as they are on acts as mundane as making toast. On this occasion, however, such aggrandisement is apposite. For while his contemporaries were burning bread, the 17-year-old was earning himself a place in a sporting pantheon alongside such luminaries as Muhammad Ali, Michel Platini and Cathy Freeman by lighting the Olympic Cauldron in London.
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