Brutal, but we are in Rio merely to play

By Al S. Mendoza

 

LET me be clear with you.

We are in the Rio Olympics not to win.

If truth be told—and I must tell you the truth at the risk of being pilloried for being a KJ—we are in the Rio Olympics merely to play.

Just to play.  Never to win.

Don’t get me wrong.

We can never win in the Olympics.

We are simply too behind in Olympic jockeying.

I’ve said this before but let me say it again, anyways:  For the longest time, our foes have been busying themselves finding ways to evade drug-detecting tests.

They always succeed, ensuring their drug-aided podium victories consistently.

In other words, undetected drugged athletes almost always win the medals—the gold variety mostly.

We’ve not been doing drugs since 1924, the first time we played in the Olympics, Paris edition.

Why, because it’s not that we can’t afford performance-enhancing drugs.

We are just simply too honest enough as to make our Olympians drug-free at all times.

It’s in our culture:  It’s not right to shit in a stage as big as the Olympics.

Polite tayo, you know.

That’s a template we’ve committed ourselves to amid rampant drug use by the opposition since the invention of French bread.

All I am saying is give truth a chance.

And if only to repeat: I’m just being frank with you.  Brutally.

The Olympics isn’t a picnic. Rather, it is war.

Because of that, it is only for the fittest, strongest, swiftest.

Over there, battles are waged with tiger ferocity, with gladiators engaged in merciless clashes right at the opening bell.

Blood feeds on winners.

Minus a clear-cut mission, losers are lost even before the first whistle is blown.

Look, a boxer’s aim is not just to maim.

If he could knock his foe out in an instant, good.

If he should end up crippling his opponent, destiny’s call.

The Olympics is from August 5 to August 21.

Almost a three-week spectacle that electrifies humankind once in four years.

Alas, for us, the saddest, most heart-breaking part is our athletes do not usually go past the first round.

It’s been that way, except to our boxers.  They do it one at a time.

Win the bout at hand—at all costs.

Always, every fight means there’s no more tomorrow.

I believe you have gotten the drift?

We will not win in Rio, yes, but, hey, there’s boxing to lean on.

It could be a salve.

Let’s pray boxing delivers, and end a 20-year Olympic medal drought—finally.

So, God help our “Fighting 12” in Rio.

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