Tag: Sports Reflective

F1’s Mexican Standoff

F1’s Mexican Standoff

With three races to go on the Formula One calendar, the Drivers’ Championship hangs in the balance. Lewis Hamilton no longer controls his own destiny; Nico Rosberg doesn’t need to win again to clinch his first world title. In the background Mercedes holds its breath, acutely aware the tense relationship between the pair could fracture the team. Each of the three parties has a loaded gun pointed toward the one they deem weakest. Can there be a happy ending?

Toto Wolff has his pistol pointing at the talented British world champion. In any team sport an individual can never become more important than the group they represent. Wolff has been gifted reasons to come down on Lewis should he feel the need.

The Snapchat episode, and then Hamilton’s decision to leave the following press conference without taking a single question, add to moments that could be interpreted as unprofessional. The most telling is Lewis’s comments that a “higher power” was responsible for his continued reliability issues.

In hindsight, he probably regrets airing this concern in public. All it does is pave the way for more (ridiculous) conspiracy theories and is the slap in the face to those that work hard each weekend to give him the best chance of victory.

It does look bizarre only one driver using the Mercedes engine is victim of all the failures, especially when they are unique and do not follow a pattern. Nevertheless, it is still more likely to be coincidence than the team sabotaging results to ensure they have a German champion in a German branded car.

As hard as it will be for Lewis to hear, Toto will – in a roundabout way – remind him the Mercedes is the best car on the grid, that anyone would jump at a chance to be there because it’s the best chance to win a title. Wolff would be sad to see such a talented driver leave but if he did, there’s no reason to believe Mercedes would struggle win the Constructors’ Championship.

But the Austrian points the gun reluctantly. The best teams want the best drivers and Lewis still tops that list for most. A shot fired would be sent with a heavy heart.

Pointed at Wolff’s head is Nico’s pistol. This year he has defied perception. Ever since Lewis joined Mercedes it’s looked like the German has been in his pocket. It’s been said many times that Nico couldn’t compete wheel-to-wheel but the gap between them was more than this. Lewis had better pure speed, he gave the impression he had the ability to find a few more tenths when required while Nico was already at his performance ceiling.

From a psychological point-of-view, this eroded Rosberg’s ability. It was a vicious circle that the German appeared destined to repeat forever.

Then 2016 happened.

Bad luck finding Lewis may have provided impetus to Nico Rosberg, allowing him to amass an early championship lead, but it also allowed him to exorcise some demons. Even when Lewis started his fight back, this new Rosberg didn’t fold. With every passing race, he’s gone from a man in Lewis’s shadow to a man looking like a worthy world champion.

If Lewis does create disharmony within the team, Nico can politely point out he had to suck it up when the Brit was taking titles and that he’d expect nothing less than the same support. The team couldn’t offload their new German world champion who has impeccable conduct, in favour of a guy with a chequered history when it comes to behaviour.

Which leaves Lewis Hamilton: the man with two guns.

The first of those is firmly aimed at his teammate. He can’t fire him from the team but he can break his spirit to such an extent that Mercedes no longer rate him worthy of a drive. When Rosberg outperformed Michael Schumacher, then team boss Ross Brawn commented that Nico could be the fastest man on the grid, implying Schumacher’s performance was still of a high standard.

There is now weight to that remark. Given the best car, Rosberg has held his own with Hamilton. Given some confidence, he stands on the cusp of a world title. It’s the type of belief he displayed after getting results against the old master and legend, Michael Schumacher.

But Hamilton has had the privilege of a better car and scoring the first world title on its behalf. This has given him the upper hand. Their history goes back to childhood and one wonders if there’s some hold Lewis has over Rosberg that the German can’t shake. Every time Nico matches Lewis, the Brit finds another level. A win in Austin and now a pole in Mexico, the doubts must be creeping into Rosberg’s mind.

To be within touching distance of the title and have it snatched would cement the mental edge Hamilton has over Rosberg.

But it’s the gun Lewis holds in his other hand that should be the real concern. It isn’t pointed at the towering Toto Wolff – it’s pressed beneath his own chin.

Despite the impression he can mentally break Rosberg, the person he causes most psychological damage to is himself. He’s a guy that wears his heart on his sleeve but far too often likes to write his own narrative. The early season party lifestyle was moulded into some character transition. That the flying Lewis needed to let his hair down to focus best on the track.

But the truth is, when the going is good it doesn’t matter what Hamilton is doing on or away from the circuit. The problems begin when he starts to write dark chapters instead of taking a step back from the circus.

He has showed cracks in the past, most notably when Button got the better of him as teammate. We saw then, as we have again this season, the exuberant Lewis become a moody, withdrawn, petulant impression of a teenager.

But he’s thirty-one years of age and should be setting an example as a world champion when off the track. Bad winners are worse than bad losers, Lewis is displaying traits of both.

Should Nico Rosberg win the title, Lewis has claimed he’ll, “take it like a man,” which begs the question: why hasn’t he managed to so far? If he did jump from the team, there would be nowhere to go following Mercedes of any worth. He’d become the next Fernando Alonso. A great driver, destined to struggle in second-rate cars.

None of the gunslingers can be confident of what the future holds but all three can be certain of one thing: they’ll be more losers than winners.

The Selective Ethics of Team GB’s Fans

The Selective Ethics of Team GB’s Fans

The excitement, euphoria and sense of patriotism which had subsided following Team GB’s success in Rio, will no doubt get a shot in the arm following today’s Olympic parade in Manchester. But enough time has passed since the final medal was placed over an athlete’s head to examine the cost of finishing second in the medal table. Not just the financial implications but the moral bill supporters must front.

The largest element of hypocrisy is the amount of funding Team GB received, yet their supporters have conveniently ignored this. The same people that bemoan the amount of cash in major sports, such as football, F1 and boxing.

When teams win the Premier League (Leicester aside) the usual implication is they bought the title. The winner of the F1 drivers’ championship is labelled as only doing so because he had the fastest car, and that comes from being at one of the richest teams. Normally every sporting achievement has a negative campaign about the finances involved.

Sometimes this is healthy. It highlights inequality surrounding the distribution of wealth within certain competitions. It makes governing bodies accountable and fights the corner of the paying public. Those at grass roots or lower tiers of sports are given a voice, helping raise cash for their survival.

But little has been made of Team Gb’s £275m funding.

Obviously it is important to invest in the future of sport, and the fruits of the cash injection have been clear for all to see during the last two Olympic games. But there is a forced ignorance taking place which means no one is questioning the level of spending or the moral implications.

The Olympics has moved away from the wholesome meet that sees raw athleticism take precedent over large commercial sport. The IOC can be thanked for this. They are the Olympics version of FIFA. Just another “non-profit” organisation that saw the marketing revenue for Rio exceed $9 billion. Television alone accounted for $4.1 billion of the IOC’s revenue.

Money is inextricably linked to top level sport. It is inescapable that if there’s a public interest, large companies will exploit the revenue potential. It would be foolish to believe the Olympics is any different than the NBA, NFL or the Premier League.

Like those global juggernauts, if you want to be successful, you need to spend big. And Team GB was bankrolled as if owned by oil made billionaires. Except the funding came from the tax payer and Lottery money. Most won’t complain about cash being siphoned away for sport but most won’t have examined where it’s gone.

£5.7m for a badminton bronze sounds excessive. If that doesn’t bother you, perhaps £6.9m for the modern pentathlon and its zero medal haul will have you pondering the cost of blind investment. Rowing did bring three gold medals but at a cost of £32m.

Of course, investment always enables better infrastructure but the sense Team GB bought their second place on the medal table permeates the mood when talking to rival nations. That could be sour grapes, but only the sort of comment people here make when discussing other sports. Sports that are self-sustaining and viewed consistently by millions. Despite the £14m investment, how many people will actually watch a gymnastics meet before the next Olympics?

This isn’t sporting legacy, it’s a fleeting fascination that comes around every four years. It was an expensive hit for a short high.

The moral high ground has many spots. As well as bemoaning the money in other sports, people are also quick to pass judgement on other nations when there’s a suspicion of wrong doing. The world revelled and condemned all Russian athletes when evidence of state-sponsored doping came to light.

Without a thorough investigation it was deemed appropriate to label all their athletes guilty until proven innocent. The calls for transparency were loud and clear.

Those calls have become barely audible whispers since Sir Bradley Wiggins’s use of TUEs has been leaked by Russian based hackers. There’s no suggestion he has done anything illegal, but how many people are genuinely comfortable with the notion the rules can be – and have been – bent to enhance the chances of success?

Those involved in the Russian witch-hunt should now be working tirelessly to clear the murky waters surrounding TUEs.

But the games come around every four years and as long as Team GB is successful the hunger to question the processes in place, whether it be funding or medical exemptions, will be virtually non-existent.

Sympathy not Fury

Sympathy not Fury

There’s fewer places in the world as unforgiving as a boxing ring. Once inside, there’s nowhere to hide and the only sure way to get out is make a date with the canvas. Unfortunately for the men that are brave enough to step between the ropes, the spectacle that follows them around in between bouts can be more brutal. This week it went into overdrive and focused on world heavyweight champion, Tyson Fury.

The self-proclaimed Gypsy King has always been a polarising figure, both in and out of the ring. His detractors had to review their claims following his unexpected win over Wladimir Klitschko. For years Fury’s hype was seen as a way to deflect attention away from a lack of boxing ability. The win in Germany, that gave him legitimate claim to be the best in the division, marked a step-up in performance.

Until Wladimir fights again the jury will still be out regarding the validity of Fury’s victory. Was Klitschko having an off night, not match fit, or over the hill? If he blows his next opponent out of the water, Tyson Fury’s victory will take on even more emphasis.

It’s the continued questions that speculate Klitschko’s decline and resulting inability to present a genuine challenge that must have worn on Fury’s mind. After finally reaching the mountain top, he wasn’t presented with a round of applause and a pat on the back. They were reserved for Anthony Joshua, despite the Olympian having no names on his boxing record.

For a man like Fury, who clearly wears his heart on his sleeve, the cracks began to show. He aired these frustrations to a press that only give him column inches if he’s dressed as Batman and clowning around. It can be argued people don’t take him serious because he’s always sold himself as a novelty act. But he also always backed that up with a belief he was the best. When he beat the presumed best, he was still cast aside.

Since winning the belts people have become masters of assumption, allowing doubts to be cast over his motives with frightening ease. The UK Anti-doping (UKAD) allegations have hung over his head and multiple cancellations have led to speculation increasing.

Many said he was scared of a rematch. That he wanted to get out of the game with an unchallenged legacy; the singular moment in time he dethroned a king, before heading into the sunset, avoiding the promising young talent holding one of his world titles that was never lost in the ring.

The time for assumption and speculation should have ended when it was revealed Tyson Fury’s latest battle is with depression. In any walk of life, facing up to this illness is always difficult. When in the public eye, even more. It’s exacerbated further in the world of the ultimate alpha males where heavyweight boxers reside.

Rather than look for reasons to expose weaknesses in Fury now, people should take a moment to examine the evidence he left for people to find. After winning the titles it was plain to see he was in a mental slump. Like so many that battle depression, the deepest of lows are matched with the highest of highs. The peak had been achieving a life-long dream, for a person with depression, a return to darker thoughts after this is inevitable.

Tyson talked of walking away from the sport, that nothing could match that high. Most saw that as a boxer wondering if he had the fire in his belly for another fight, the truth is, it was a man struggling to find his spark for life.

The recent positive test for cocaine is further proof he was lost in his mind, not in the ring. He’s not the first person faced with demons that finds sanctuary in substance abuse.

Yet still he finds little in the way of sympathy, instead people spend their time formulating a way to compile his demise and retirement. People with mental health issues can make full recoveries but some connected to the boxing world are trying to quickly move past their embarrassing heavyweight champion “blip.”

The main player so vocal this week has been Eddie Hearn. He represents Anthony Joshua. A man full of potential but without a name on his résumé. Now Hearn is manoeuvring to stake a claim at the soon to be revoked Fury belts. Even if that doesn’t happen, he’s confident a fight with Klitschko can be made. He told Sky Sports the chances were currently better than 60%.

Hearn barely displayed any genuine concern for Fury’s wellbeing, choosing to point out boxing is a business and the authorities lose too much money if their titles are inactive. In doing so, revealing his genetic make-up is closer to that of a fifty-pound note than a human being.

It’s wrong of Eddie Hearn to display conjecture in a public forum. He’s not a medical professional or a close confidante. His remarks are highly insensitive and pure speculation. This will only have a detrimental effect to the well-being of the man he’s trying to announce the retirement of.

The danger is if the public believe it’s acceptable to write Fury off and overlook the real issue here: depression. It’s an uncomfortable subject and having Hearn gloss over it will sit easy with most. But that is wrong. Instead of running campaigns against Team Fury, the boxing community should be rallying around and help raise the awareness of such a silent killer.

Facing this illness so publicly is braver than stepping into the ring with a giant like Wladimir Klitschko. Beating it will be a bigger achievement than winning the world heavyweight titles; the reward, a continued spark that will be hard to diminish.