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The World Swimming Championships are in progress, and 10 years have passed since the Rome edition, the only one I have watched live. The World Championships had already been in Rome in 1994, but at the time I wasn't living there yet, and I wasn't a big enough swimming fan to move. At that time I made another, shorter, sport trip. The 2009 World Championships should also have taken place in Tor Vergata, very close to where I worked at that time, then it was all cancelled and went back to the old Foro Italico venue: in Tor Vergata you can still see the unfinished buildings.
The feeling that I had just after I entered the Swimming Stadium on the first day, or even when I was still approaching, was the one that inspired the title of this blog: that the common spectator, the one who pays for the tickets (and I had spent more than 800 euros), was seen with annoyance. The first few days the works in the entrance area had not yet been completed, and to enter one had to pass through a cordoned area on the street. A wide space was given instead to the VIP areas.
Then there were those who unduly occupied space, and they were the real negative protagonists of the event: the volunteers. In huge numbers, you always found them camping at bars and kiosks, occupying all the tables, or perhaps in the stands (the first week, when there were more free places), where they even complained if you obstructed their view with your flag: almost never working. I also met a stewardess who believed she was at the football Champions' League final: the stands were not more than 5% full, but still she showed my place and told me "if you find it occupied, tell me and we'll free it"
Back to the sport event, the first week, as always, was dedicated to water polo, diving, synchronized swimming and open water swimming. I saw a couple of water polo games, one men's and one women's. I don't remember the teams, I just remember that in one there was Holland. For me they were a novelty: I found them pleasant, so much so that I made the purpose myself to go and see some matches in the next season, which I didn't do. I was particularly struck by the size of the players, which you didn't notice on TV.
I did not see synchronized swimming, but I met some sync swimmers: I remember having a group of Canadian ones next to me. I found also them more robust than they seem on TV. I had planned to watch open water swimming one morning (I think the 25 km race), but I gave up because I didn't feel well.
I saw several diving events, and I certainly didn't regret it. The most exciting was the men's platform, with the challenge between Daley of Britain, the two Chinese and an Australian, won by the first after several lead changes. I could also watch Cagnotto's two medals: silver in the synchro springboard with Dallapé and bronze in the individual springboard. The synchro race was preceded by a qualification made to eliminate just one pair, with Macao acting as a designated victim, presenting a program much easier than the others.
The Chinese were true Martians in synchro, more human in the individual, although there was Gao's one-woman race in springboard: truly impressive. I was also thinking of the sad life of Chinese judges (in Rome there was a lady) who would never judge a final, since a final without Chinese was unthinkable (at the time the springboard finals were 6-people, so one could imagine a final without Americans, Australians or other big countries, but not without Chinese). The downside of diving was the attendance, too biassed, not only pro-Italy, but also anti-China: they never accepted a jury vote.
Towards the end of the first week, I saw a crowd surrounding a man with a sweatshirt, hood and headphones, under which there was not much to see: it was Phelps! A sign that pool swimming was about to begin, but we'll talk about it next time.
The feeling that I had just after I entered the Swimming Stadium on the first day, or even when I was still approaching, was the one that inspired the title of this blog: that the common spectator, the one who pays for the tickets (and I had spent more than 800 euros), was seen with annoyance. The first few days the works in the entrance area had not yet been completed, and to enter one had to pass through a cordoned area on the street. A wide space was given instead to the VIP areas.
Then there were those who unduly occupied space, and they were the real negative protagonists of the event: the volunteers. In huge numbers, you always found them camping at bars and kiosks, occupying all the tables, or perhaps in the stands (the first week, when there were more free places), where they even complained if you obstructed their view with your flag: almost never working. I also met a stewardess who believed she was at the football Champions' League final: the stands were not more than 5% full, but still she showed my place and told me "if you find it occupied, tell me and we'll free it"
Back to the sport event, the first week, as always, was dedicated to water polo, diving, synchronized swimming and open water swimming. I saw a couple of water polo games, one men's and one women's. I don't remember the teams, I just remember that in one there was Holland. For me they were a novelty: I found them pleasant, so much so that I made the purpose myself to go and see some matches in the next season, which I didn't do. I was particularly struck by the size of the players, which you didn't notice on TV.
I did not see synchronized swimming, but I met some sync swimmers: I remember having a group of Canadian ones next to me. I found also them more robust than they seem on TV. I had planned to watch open water swimming one morning (I think the 25 km race), but I gave up because I didn't feel well.
I saw several diving events, and I certainly didn't regret it. The most exciting was the men's platform, with the challenge between Daley of Britain, the two Chinese and an Australian, won by the first after several lead changes. I could also watch Cagnotto's two medals: silver in the synchro springboard with Dallapé and bronze in the individual springboard. The synchro race was preceded by a qualification made to eliminate just one pair, with Macao acting as a designated victim, presenting a program much easier than the others.
The Chinese were true Martians in synchro, more human in the individual, although there was Gao's one-woman race in springboard: truly impressive. I was also thinking of the sad life of Chinese judges (in Rome there was a lady) who would never judge a final, since a final without Chinese was unthinkable (at the time the springboard finals were 6-people, so one could imagine a final without Americans, Australians or other big countries, but not without Chinese). The downside of diving was the attendance, too biassed, not only pro-Italy, but also anti-China: they never accepted a jury vote.
Towards the end of the first week, I saw a crowd surrounding a man with a sweatshirt, hood and headphones, under which there was not much to see: it was Phelps! A sign that pool swimming was about to begin, but we'll talk about it next time.
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