Going for gold

Miami

Bragging goes hand in hand with failure. I’ve met a lot of stars in my life — sporting and literary ones, and not a small number of film stars, too — and I’ve yet to come across a successful one who boasted. Sure, there was Muhammad Ali, but his was a jig, a publicity stunt to make up for the years of white man forced-down-your-throat humility. Writers, athletes and actors, in fact all artists, have one thing in common: Insecurity with a capital ‘i’. Athletes have short careers, writers and actors longer ones. One loses the facility for words as one gets older, but makes up for it through experience. I know nothing about acting, but I do know about sport. An old boxer sees a punch coming before the one throwing it has thought of it. But when it comes, it lands on the old boy despite the fact he was expecting it. That’s the time to hang it up, as they say.

Once upon a time a tennis player reached his peak at 32. Match-winning tennis required experience. One could beat a stronger opponent through guile, touch and superior strategy. No longer. Technology has done away with the thinking man’s game. Now all one needs is power to hit the cover off the ball. The harder the hitter, the better the player. That’s why I only watch women’s tennis, and will soon stop doing even that as the women’s game has gone the way of the men’s. Tennis is now a very young person’s game, as is boxing. Remember Archie Moore? He boxed well into his late forties and put Rocky Marciano down early in the fight during a world heavyweight championship. Archie was 47, Rocky 22.