While studying for my National College for the Training of Journalists (NCTJ) newspaper diploma, the essential qualification required to work on a paper, we used to have ‘deadline days’ classes.
They were essentially to replicate a real deadline day on a newspaper.
Of course, it was nothing of the sort, because there was no grumpy editor, nor a constant stream of angry elderly people phoning you, asking where their free paper was, while you were deep in concentration writing a 350 word feature on the local pumpkin fair.
Nor were there any conspiracy theorists waiting in reception, demanding to know if you’d received their crayon drawing of the UFO they spotted over Morrisons on Sunday night.
A heated debate
I only mention ‘deadline day classes’ because I once had a heated debate during one such class with someone about what constituted a ‘sport’.
I had (naturally) appointed myself ‘sports editor’ leaving the others to quibble about the news and politics, arts and travel sections.
The person I was debating with was very bright, and has done really well for himself since in the fields of politics and social commentary. But, even he would admit he knew nothing about sport.
Quidditch isn’t a sport
So when he suggested that we students include a section on quidditch in our (my) sports section in our mocked up ‘newspaper’ on ‘deadline day’ all hell broke loose.
‘It’s not a sport. It’s not even real,’ I scoffed, quite rightly. ‘Define what makes a sport, or a sportsperson,’ he shot back, in a question that still makes me think.
‘Sport involves dedication, consistent practice to increase skill levels while harnessing, talent, temperament, technique and commitment, wrapped around physical activity,’ I replied, quite pleased with myself.
‘What about darts and snooker. And quidditch?’
‘The first two are pastimes. And the third doesn’t exist,’ I insisted.
‘But they tick most of your criteria on what makes a sport,’ he said.
And we was right. Darts and snooker involve vast amounts of practice. I conceded darts and snooker could be classed as sports, even if there isn’t much physical activity involved. But I still wasn’t having quidditch in my ‘newspaper’.
Is skateboarding a sport?
I was reminded of the conversation when I watched the skateboarding in Tokyo in the early hours of Sunday morning.
With no Saturday game to attend (Stotfold vs Biggleswade FC was a 12pm kick-off - it’s a long season and I don’t want to peak too early) so we had a few drinks and went to a restaurant (Turkish if you’re asking) and then more drinks that took us into the early hours.
I find the Olympics mesmerising. Because of the top quality sport of course, but also because of the number of compelling narratives among the competitors.
But at 130am full of booze, it was simply because they were showing skateboarding.
Is it or isn’t it?
This isn’t sport I told myself.
One of the things about getting older is that your first instance is to scoff at everything and not accept new things.
Luckily, somewhere inside I still have a strand that fights against this. (Or else how could I have left a well paid job/career in Investment Banking to follow my lifetime’s ambition of becoming a journalist?)
So, despite being instantly annoyed by the American Jagger Eaton for the fact he was on this phone and for wearing air pods while competing in the Olympics (how dare he!) I started to appreciate the fact that skateboarding, whether you’re in the graffiti covered Leake Street tunnel, or the nearby Southbank, or in the shadows of the Tokyo Bridge, is a real skill.
One of the five new sports featured in this Olympics, its inclusion offers challenging steep inclines and smooth surfaces to display your talents.
Competitors demonstrated a range of tricks while flying along stairs, handrails, benches, curves, walls and benches. It sounds like one of the council estates I grew up on as a kid. The only thing missing was the ‘No Ball Games’ sign and the smell of weed.
Maybe it was the fact I could never master skateboarding as a kid (I put it down to my flat feet) and the fact I had less balance than Yaya Sanogo that made me critical of skateboarding - but the spectacle duly unfolding in the Japanese capital in the early hours had me gripped.
Especially the grace and style of the French lad Vincent Milou.
Quite simply you can’t compete in the Olmypics unless you’re a top quality athlete.
And each and every skateboarder in Tokyo is an athlete that ticks my definition of being a sportsperson in a sport. Dedication, consistent practice to increase skill levels while harnessing, talent, temperament, technique and commitment, wrapped around physical activity.
I can’t wait for more. Just don’t mention quidditch.
Cheers
@laythy29
PS We’re off in our camper van to the spiritual home of one of my heroes, Alan Partridge for a week. We had booked to go to a week long beach rave in Croatia but, despite us being double jabbed the risk of quarantine - and me missing the start of the football season as well as plenty of cricket - was too big.
So, we’re off to North Norfork with a selection of kids. A spot of downtime before the season kicks off and the prospect of being on the road for 10 months. One thing is for certain though, I will be seeking out the North Norfolk Owl Sanctuary.