On again for another Olympiad, athletes from around the world and their cashed up relatives, have dug in their heels to partake in the global sporting marvel with a motto adopted by many an illegal backyard pharmacy: Citius. Altius. Fortius. (Faster. Higher. Stronger.)
There is no sense of mystery as to what these muscle wrapped poster children eat for their breakfast. Drugs and dope and a nice sluice of diuretics line their guts like the abusive cattle forking and beefing their meaty hides.
These next two weeks will be pitched feverishly as the sweat drips off faces wanting to find an escape from athletic mediocrity into sponsorship whoring heaven.
Should the suicide bombers finally make good from watching the endless stream of anti-terrorist media parades, and strong hints of a major calamity should shards be exploded, then the world of professional athletes will see the amateurs take on the Games come 2008 in Beijing, China.
Written on Thursday, 12 August 2004