In the bleak midwinter of British sport

Clare Balding13 April 2012

If I hear the word "disappointing" with reference to the British competitors at the Winter Olympics one more time, I'll jump off the nearest 90-metre hill. It's time for a little perspective here. As a nation, we do not have a history of great success at winter sports. We have thrown up four exceptional ice skaters (Curry, Cousins, Torvill and Dean), an incredible pair of men who, from nowhere, found the capability to master the bob (Nash and Dixon), one downhill skier (Martin Bell) who once broke into the top 10, and, most infamous of all, a ski jumper (Eddie Edwards) who plopped himself off the end of the run, allowed gravity to take its course and found himself in as many headlines as the rest of them.

It is hardly a litany of success stories. The inquest has begun ridiculously early (we are only on day seven, for Pete's sake) into the failure of the British team. There are standards to be hoped for and standards to be expected. They are very different things.

One might have hoped that Lesley McKenna would qualify for the final of the snowboarding half-pipe, one would have expected that she might have sounded just a little bit regretful at failing to do so. She did neither.

One might have hoped that Glynn Pederson, who is afraid of flying in aeroplanes and seemingly not that keen on that sensation on a pair of skis, would have made the final of either the K90 or the K120 ski jump. One would have expected him to have jumped at least as well as he did in practice. He did neither. In his defence, Pederson is only 20 and is using this Games as experience for a more serious challenge in 2006. And he is better than Eddie the Eagle.

To answer the accusation of over-emphasising British chances, levelled at both the BBC and the press, I hardly think that previewing-British competitors, speaking to them about their experience, showing their performances, interviewing them afterwards and detailing their results is overegging the pudding. Imagine the uproar if they weren't mentioned at all.

The British team is only made up of 50 people, of whom four or five have medal-winning chances. Outside those few, there are decent stories and interesting characters.

Mike Dixon, competing in his sixth consecutive Winter Olympics biathlon, never had an earthly of winning a medal and, in fact, performed well below his capabilities, but he is an outstanding example of endurance, of independence and individuality. He has single-handedly created a tradition of biathlon for a nation that had none.

Who would argue that that is not worth covering, even if he did miss more shots in one Games than he had over the last five, and finished only 79th?

Similarly, no one ever pretended that Mark Hatton would worry the likes of Armin Zoeggler or Georg Hackl in the Luge, but he twice broke the British record and set himself new standards only eight years after first hurling himself down an ice track.

How many of us mere mortals would even contemplate attempting that, or the skeleton bob, which is strictly for the nerveless and mildly mad?

I hesitate to say it, for fear of building her up too much, but we do have a decent chance of a medal in the last named event, courtesy of Alex Coomber.

For me, though, the Winter Olympics is not about how many medals Britain can or cannot win. It is about watching the world's best stretch themselves beyond their limits and perform more gracefully than ever before.

I only wish I was out in Salt Lake City rather than in Studio 5 of TV Centre in White City so that I could become the mogul skier I keep seeing in my dreams.

Lennox must do some soul searching

All the Georgia Boxing Commission required was a cheque for $10 and a medical certificate and, hey presto, the baddest boy in boxing has a licence.

It makes a mockery of the expensive and extensive hearing before the Nevada State Commission and presents Lennox Lewis with a fascinating dilemma.

The disparate bodies that run various sections of boxing were never likely to present a consistent case and in the absence of a steady governing hand, the decision is pretty much down to Lewis himself.

Will he give Tyson the credibility of a legitimate challenge-to the heavyweight title of the world? Will he risk himself against a man who has no conception of the boundaries within which he is meant to remain?

Will he risk his own name, his painstakingly produced image as a clean-cut hero against a barbarian more suited to the world of WWF? In short, will he sell his soul?

He's a boxer, so the answer, sadly, is likely to be 'yes'.

Woodward misses an opportunity

He knows it is better to face up to your misdemeanours than hide from them, to answer your critics rather than deny them. His place in the England team to face Ireland on Saturday was never in doubt but it was Clive Woodward's shout to keep him as captain.

While Woodward is admirably consistent in support of his players, there would be ample justification for giving Jonny Wilkinson a first chance to captain his country. Johnson's presence is enough to strike fear into the opposition but when he is not there, the team is frighteningly lacking in decision makers.

This would have been the perfect opportunity to temporarily relieve Johnson of the captaincy, thus making a point about the conduct expected of an England skipper, and give Wilkinson added responsibility without overpressurising him. Then come the World Cup if Johnson is injured, England have able deputies in Matt Dawson, Lawrence Dallaglio (if they're fit) or Wilkinson, knowing that all of them have the experience of leading their team.

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