It was up the Olympic equivalent of the 'your mom's nice' moment in the KFC advert. An animated discussion on the aesthetic appeal of Beijing's competitors over a braai last night meandered from Norway's woman's football goalkeeper to the Venezuelan beach volleyball team, and on to the Dutch women's hockey team and Yelena Isinbayeva (the Russian pole vaulter, for the ill-informed). And then Mad Chris Rayner, the Pinelands Mighty Dodos volatile right wing, volunteered this conversation stopper: There's also a really hot German weightlifter.

Lithe Russian athletes, thickset German powerlifters — to each his own, I suppose. Personally, I'll stick with Yelena and the Norwegian 'keeper; there have been attractions aplenty of a more meaningful sort in Beijing, however, and as the Games draws to an end, this Olympics is destined to go down as something rather special, with particular thanks to two quite remarkable men.

Much was made of Michael Phelps's eight-gold assault on Beijing prior to the Games — almost as much as was made of his magnificent set of ears. (Are the ears, as some have suggested, the secret key to his speed? And if so, is it too late to get Arnold Geerdts in the pool and ready for London 2012?) A blur of world records and breathtaking performance later, and the American is statistically the greatest Olympian ever. From fingertip victories to blitzing the opposition, Phelps ran the gamut of success, and emerged from the pool with eight gold medals, and what was surely the defining performance of the Games.

And it would have been, had a six foot five Jamaican with the loping gait of a giraffe and an easy smile unusual in sprinters, not stormed Beijing in astonishing fashion. No one has ever made sprinting look so ridiculously easy as Usain Bolt, who won the 100 metres with so casually, you felt he could have stopped to sign a couple of autographs along the way.

That a run so gentle and effortless in appearance could obliterate the world record left the watching world in disbelief, and Bolt — who plays the crowd with such delight — followed up with an equally extraordinary 200 metres to join (and arguably usurp) Phelps as the darling of Beijing. Jacques Rogge as criticised him for showboating, a petty observation from the conservative corridors of Olympic power; the rest of us are still celebrating the greatest Jamaican Olympic story since 'Cool Runnings'.

And for South Africans, Phelps and Bolt have given us some welcome distraction from the modest success our team's achieved in Beijing. It's been downhill since the green Crocs marched into the opening ceremony (there has to be a link there, surely), South Africa's biggest achievement the amount of money successfully spent on promotional campaign and display in Beijing that's by all accounts been shambolic.

Enough of the South Africans, though (just wait 'til golf, cricket, rugby and jukskei are Olympic sports); there's still a weekend to savour before the Games closes, and the children are allowed back to work in the factories. The mesmerising Olympic effect remains as firm as ever: in the past few weeks, I've spent 40 minutes watching Egypt play Denmark in the men's handball (I still don't have a clue about the rules), sat glued to the table tennis doubles, and watched the visage of severe constipation that comes as obligatory with competing in the 50 kilometre walk.

Across the spectrum of events, new champions have emerged in Beijing; some countries have had a great 2008 (Jamaica, and Great Britain, which hasn't gone quite so sports mad in the papers since the 2005 Ashes), and others (us) haven't. As a whole, though, the competition has been splendid, and no more so than in the case of Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt, two men who've reminded the world once more just why the Olympic Games remains the greatest sporting event on earth.

  • Contact Dan at dan@metropolis.co.za
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