The case of the flaming flannels

Press, 28 December 1989, Page 10

The case of the flaming flannels

JACK PLEASANT

recalls some

famous sporting fiascos.

We are taught from childhood to be modest in victory and gracious in defeat, and, above all, to “play the game.” We are brought up on the Olympic Games principle that the important thing “is not so much to have been victorious as to have taken part.”

This concept, argues Stephen Winkworth in his book “Famous Sporting Fiascos” (Sphere), may be good for the soul but doesn’t do much for the game. “Any fool can see that all his is pure hokum. The only purpose of sport has always been to show that you can do something better than the next man or woman. .

“Winning is what it is all about. There used to be a notion that sport was supposed to be fun, but now we know better.” To back up his argument he cites the case of a boxer whose gumshield fell out during a fight at the Munich Olympics. As the boxer scrambled around on hands and knees to retrieve it the referee counted him out.

A similar thing happened when Bournemouth Wayfarers played a cricket match against

Mamhull, in Dorset, in 1969. Batsman Mike Barnard leaped from his batting crease with a yell and ran for cover-point. Reason? The ball had struck a box of matches in his pocket causing them to burst into flames. As Banard’s scorched white flannels were ripped from him by a ring of players, the umpire gave him out.

That was a classic fiasco. But in Stephen Winkworth’s view, to be responsible for a fiasco — provided you didn’t do it intentionally — is sport’s greatest reward. Perhaps one of the greatest fiascos was perpetrated by the late Lord Freyberg, who attempted

to swim the English Channel from France.

The sea was rougher than had been expected but he battled on until only 300 metres from the Kent coast. But he was so tired that he was unable to swim any further. His wife, in the support boat, handed him a flask of brandy to revive his flagging spirits. One nip became another reviving nip ... until he was finally .dragged from the sea “as weak as a kitten and as drunk as a lord.” The greatest Olympic

fiasco happened on the way to the 1968 Winter Olympics ... to the hallowed torch itself. As a runner carried the torch along Barcelona’s main avenue on route to Grenoble, France, there was a roar and a blinding sheet of flame. The Olympic torch thudded to the ground. It had exploded. Earlier, the torch had gone out 28 times during its journey from Greece. Spares, all lighted in the approved fashion (by the sun’s rays) had to be used. In one place bandits

even attempted to “kidnap” the flame and hold it to ransom. Sportsmanship, as Stephen Winkworth reveals, has always been a non-starter to many. In 1949 the French cycling team in the Tour of Italy was pelted with stones and rotten eggs by Italian fans.

The next year, in the Tour de France, an Italian had his goggles shattered by a well-aimed stone as he took the lead in the Pyrenean section of the race. Gamely, the Italian cycled on, to the jeers of French spectators. He sped on down a valley and over stone bridges. Then in the distance he heard the omin-

ous whine of a racing car. The supercharged beast — with a fanaticl Frenchman at the wheel — came roaring up behind him on the narrow road. He had no option but to hurl himself off his bike on to a grassy embankment to avoid being squashed into the road. Brazilian sorts fans can be equally unsporting. During a match at Rio Preto, in 1952, a home supporter was determined that the visiting team wouldn't score. When an opposing forward took a shot at goal, the fan sighted a rifle, tracked the ball and burst it in mid-flight as it was about to enter the goal. Rain often ruins out-

door sports like cricket and tennis — but it once caused chaos during an Indoor game. It happened in Calcutta, in 1975, at the newly-built Eden Park stadium, venue for a world table tennis’ championship. When rain gushed through the roof during a sudden downpour, drenching the players, officials discovered thieves had stolen the toilets, plumbing and lead from the roof. During the world table tennis championships, in Munich, West Germany, in 1969, it was so cold that the balls froze and wouldn’t bounce. They had to be thawed out with hot-air driers. Visiting golfers to the Elephant Hills course near Victoria falls, Zimbabwe, face an unsporting handicap at the 12th tee — crocodiles. The course has a special rule, which says: “If a ball is eaten, another may be dropped in its place.” Sportingly there’s another course rule in the event of terrorist attacks: “A stroke is to be played again if interrupted by gunfire or a sudden explosion.” Copyright Duo