Ferenice de Rodas lived in Greece more than 2500 years ago. Also known as Caliptras, she was the daughter of Diágoras and sister of Dorieo, famous Olympic champions in the specialty of pancracio, a specialty that, currently, would not have much to envy to MMA (Mixed Martial Arts). What’s more, Diagoras achieved the feat of triumphing in four of the great Greek games: Nemeos, Isticos, Isthmians and, obviously, Olympic.
Inevitable question of blood, and his son, named Pisirrodo, was also emerging as a favorite in that event, presumably in some tournament in the middle of the 5th century BC.
In addition to being a mother, Ferenice was also Pisirrodo’s coach. Since in those days the presence of women in the stadium was punishable by the death penalty, she decided to disguise herself as a man and place herself in the stands reserved for coaches. Euphoric at the triumph of her son, Ferenice jumped the fence that separated her from the competition zone with such bad luck that her tunic got entangled in it and it became clear that she was a woman. But not just any woman: the daughter, sister and, now also, mother of Olympic champions, was forgiven. However, in the future, to avoid setbacks, it was decided that, in addition to the athletes, spectators should also attend the tournament naked. Something that, without a doubt, would increase the already enormous popularity of games today.
This romantic story, timely narrated by the traveler Pausanias, attests that the figure of the sports idol existed centuries ago.
It is true that individual memory is as unappealable as it is arbitrary. Thus, perhaps the matter was not as written by Pausanias. What’s more: perhaps something like this never happened (in fact, some records of Olympic champions don’t include any of Ferenice’s relatives). And the same could be said of an infinite number of enormous Olympic episodes that we have read or have been told. It doesn’t matter. Believing in the magic of idols is part of a fantasy that is celebrated and does no harm. And I choose to believe.
In any case, the message is that this issue of sports icons is not only not the exclusive issue of these times of social media, nor of those of television, nor of those of newspapers. This is an ancient collective fantasy. Nothing more or less than admiration for those who sublimate the disciplines that the vast majority of us mortals practice terribly, including that upgrade with which the champion is qualified.
Once this clarification has been made, we can take a look at the phenomenon of sports idols so far this century, which covers a particular space in which, to the enthronement of the favorite, something that is on the verge of extinction has been added: the existence of great rivalries or the simultaneous presence of colossi of those that will be difficult to replace.
It happens with football, what happened from Pelé's hegemony to that of Johan Cruyff and from that one to Diego Maradona without overlapping one another, to celebrate for more than a decade the extraordinary duel between Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo.
It happens with tennis, which gave us wonderful years with monsters such as Bjorn Borg, John McEnroe, Ivan Lendl, Jimmy Connors and so many others and today it is witnessing the end of an unsurpassed era in which Federer, Nadal and Djokovic who shared 64 of the 76 major tournaments that have been played since the Swiss won his first Wimbledon in 2003. A menage-a-trois that I very much doubt to see overcome in life.
And it happens to Olympism, which in just over 400 days will attend the first games with a public presence without Usain Bolt or Michael Phelps, those two phenomena that shared between Beijing and Rio the most electrifying moments of these two founding sports. Of course, no one is unaware of the large number of unforgettable figures that Olympism has given us in its more than 100 years of existence in its De Coubertin version. From Dorando Pietri to Abebe Bikila. From Johnny Weismuller to Nadia Comaneci. There is no game that hasn’t had its hero.
However, those of us who went through those days between 2008 and 2016 in wonder attest that it is not so exaggerated to say that the first Olympic week was for the North American swimmer and the second for the Jamaican sprinter.
Already retired by Tokyo 2021, the peculiarity of some games in a pandemic may not allow us to take due account of how difficult it will be to cover such empty spaces.
There is no doubt that, with the return of the crowds to the stadiums in the French capital, we will be able to honor our new heroes.
But let’s pause for a moment on what I just said. And let’s say thank you for the privilege of having witnessed such a wonder.