Just the human race at play

In the classical Olympics there were no prizes for finishing second. The revival of the Olympics in 1896 offered a prize for the marathon winner. The first past the post was paid one million drachma and offered the hand of an organiser's daughter in marriage. The matrimonial proposal was politely declined but the athlete did accept 365 restaurant meals, shoe polishing for life, and a piece of land.

Nevertheless, the Olympics have become a shrine to amateurism, almost a secular religion where the spectators are invited to worship the heroism, sacrifice and struggle of the participants. The icons of torches and medals are paraded and the congregation is urged to chant the motto of higher, faster stronger while young men and women, blinkered by obsession, go for gold.

The spectator is urged to condemn the materialism that has attached itself to sport and celebrate the selflessness of the athlete who is straining to achieve an almost spiritual goal.

Yet it is not professionalism, now firmly entrenched in all sports, which threatened the Olympics. The biggest danger was posed by shamateurism, the hypocrisy that athletes were not being paid and their lavish lifestyles were funded by the gods.

The Olympic Spirit and the Olympics at 100 understandably pander to the image of moral rectitude. A pirouetting Comeneci, a victorious Lewis, a straining Louganis and an upright Weissmuller provoke admiration for the individual and invite applause for the spirit of the Games. There is no shot of an artificially toned Johnson or close-ups of hirsute women sprinters who owed their five o'clock shadows to the ingestion of steroids.

However, in fairness, this bias of the books is neither surprising nor a cause for complaint. They come to praise, bearing lavish colour spreads and monochrome prose, but both serve their purpose of giving a brief and uncritical guide to past Games and whetting the appetite of contests to come.

The Olympic Spirit has an intriguing message on the inside cover which states: ``The Olympic Spirit is published through Southern Living Magazine, an Official Worldwide Sponsor of the 1996 Atlanta Games.''

The awarding of the games to the American South is pithily dismissed by the authors of Running Scared. They observe it as a no contest: Athens was strong on tradition, Atlanta had the economic and organisational strength. Atlanta, dubbed the City Too Busy to Hate (although given its crime figures that could read the City Too Dumb to be Ashamed), will now make a pretty pile. It would be foolish to recoil from such professionalism. The notion of sportmanship has been grossly over-idealised and the Olympics must be concerned with markets and power. But the authors make a watertight case for prosecuting the chicanery and duplicity of athletes and administrators who wheel and deal to achieve a desired result.

At its most innocent level this involves the marathon runner who dons sunglasses as he enters the winning straight to please a sponsor. Or the distance runner who slows down, keeping a world record in the bag to be released when the money is right on the Grand Prix circuit.

At its worst, it means athletes using drugs with the active assistance of coaches and the compliance of administrators. It is interesting to read that when the Sports Council took over testing from the athletics' authorities the failures soared. Running Scared reports that 20 athletes failed tests in Seoul but were not disciplined because of the damage that could be done to the sport.

Linford Christie's survived by the narrowest of margins. His appeal lasted long into the night. The barrister who defended him said: ``Eleven voted for Christie, ten against, and two were asleep.''

Steve Downes and Duncan Mackay, both sports journalists, are meticulous in indicting the values and customs of present-day athletics. This exactness is a testament both to their professionalism and their respect for the lawyers who will reading the book on behalf of, among others, promoter Andy Norman and the godfather of athletics, Primo Nebiolo.

The book points out that the most vulnerable part of the Olympian edifice is the athlete. They can be wrongly accused like Diane Modahl, fed drugs unknowingly like countless East Germans, or consumed by their own demons like Henry Rono, once a great distance runner but reduced by drink problems to washing windscreens in a car park.

The athlete's fragility exists in mind and body. Their highly tuned frames are childlishly vulnerable to virus and strain but it is the psyche that Steve Backley turns to in the Winning Mind. Backley, a world-class javelin thrower, reveals nothing new in the terms of technique, chanting the self-help mantra of motivation, arousal, concentration and visualisation. The surprise is that an athlete not renowned for his self-effacement should be so honest and ultimately helpful. Backley even accuses himself of ``choking'' - the crime without peer for sportsmen - and explains what he learned from his failure and how he uses it to succeed.

The cynical may reflect that going inside the mind of the athlete is akin to visiting an empty amphiteatre but Backley shows how at the top level, where athletes are rated by 100ths of a second and centimetres in distance, a healthy mind is a necessary adjunct to a healthy body.

Those who are in any doubt about the changing face of athletics will be interested to know that Backley has a sport psychologist, a masseur, a physiotherapist, a kinesiologist (sorry, I've no idea either) and a coach. The javelin is an individual event. Backley's entourage and attitude show how far professionalism has come. Has it reduced amateurism to the sports no-one wants to watch and to the sportsmen no-one wants to emulate?

It is, however, unarguable that any golden age of the Olympics must refer to the morality and ability of competitors rather than the remuneration. As sprinter Leroy Burell attests: ``We aren't in this sport because we like it, or we want to earn our way through school. We are in it to make money.''

This statement of intent shows sport can be crass, self-interested and venal. Sport can also express fortitude, self-possession and honour. The Olympics takes these Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde contradictions and serves up an intoxicating brew which can induce euphoria and despair. In all its greatness, its commercialism tinged with shop-soiled honour, the Olympics is simply the human race at play. Let the Games begin.

ROUND-UP

RUNNING SCARED

Steven Downes and Duncan MackayMainstream, #14.99The winning windSteve BackleyAurum Press, #13.95THE OLYMPIC SPIRITSusan WelsCollins, #16OLYMPICS AT 100Macmillan, #15