Clicca qui per la versione italiana
And the day finally came, for the first time in
my life I saw an Italian win a medal at the Olympics. 12 years ago, in London,
I had seen the medal being prepared and the certainty of winning at least
silver, but I had not seen the final. Thank you, Greg Paltrinieri, even though
for a moment we hoped it would be even better, it is another medal that enriches a fantastic career.
But let's start from the beginning. The day had
started early (way too early) with the rowing session. I arrive at the shuttle
station around 9.15, by which time it was clear that I would see it begun (start was at 9.30). There are, however, a few people arriving at this time.
Among them are the relatives of Nicolas Kohl, of the Italian four,
whom I meet on the shuttle: in all my stay in Paris so far, I had never seen so
many Italians together. When the shuttle arrives, there's still a long way to
go (I'll measure it on the way back: it's about 1250 metres): when I had been
to see whitewater canoeing, I had seen that the flat water basin was further away,
but I didn't think it was that far.
I go in at almost 10 o'clock and it is already very hot, I look at where my seat is and discover... that I don't have a seat: they are standing places! I go back to wondering why I was doing that, after I had already done it when I got up. The fourth quarter-final of the women's sculls is under way: I settle in the first place I find, towards the 1500 m buoy, waiting for them to pass. Finished, I make to move away, but I see that the first quarter-final of the men's sculls is already about to start. The races are practically ontinuous: the starts are every 10 minutes, which means that between the arrival of one and the start of the next there are about 3 minutes, but they are not noticeable: having proclaimed the official result of one race, they begin the presentation of the next.
I go a few metres further towards the start,
and from there I see the first two quarters of the sculls, I notice that the
period when the boats are in sight is about 2 minutes. Then I really have to go
for a drink and to the toilet. On the way back, I look for better
accommodation: I find a less crowded place, where I can also sit when the boats
are far away. However, it has the disadvantage of being far from the screens,
so most of the time you have to rely on the speaker to find out the placings.
From this position the boats are visible from just before the halfway point
until almost the finish, but the stretch where the perspective allows you to
understand the placings is much shorter, no more than 250-300 metres. Around me
only French, further on a Dutch family: after the locals, the nationalities
most present are Dutch and Danish.
We arrive at the first competition for both us
and the French: the first semi-final of the women's doubles. The French are
thrilled with their crew, which is always in a qualifying position (top three)
and at times seems to be able to attack for first place. They celebrate
qualification with ‘who doesn't jump is not French’ (it will be heard again
tonight at swimming). Italy remains last all the time and even loses contact
with the penultimate in the final. After the semifinals of the men's doubles,
with France failing to qualify and Italy absent, the French around me leave and
so I can advance almost to the first row. I see the recoveries of the four, first women's (without Italy) and then men's, where we take revenge on
France: Italy is in the lead the whole time, after it has passed me it seems
that Romania and France are catching up with it, but it's perspective, in
reality we are firmly in the lead and we win over Romania and France, which
therefore remains out (two were passing).
Once the races are over, it's back to the start
of the shuttle,s in a devastating heat. The queue for the shuttles is long, but it
is over in a quarter of an hour: I confirm that it is the most efficient
shuttle service I have ever seen.
In the early afternoon I visit the Parc des
Nations, the village that hosts the ‘houses’ of different countries. I visited
those of Colombia and Mexico, among the few with free entry, i.e., requiring
neither payment nor registration. A good experience, a pity I didn't have more time.
And we come to the evening session, with
swimming. I arrive at La Defense with a good margin, almost an hour, but 10
minutes pass to get from the metro station to the arena and just as many in the
queue at the gates. I am however inside the arena just before 8pm, so I
decide to get some food. It doesn't turn out to be a good idea: we don't
understand each other and instead of the curry toast I had ordered I get two
beers. When I manage to get the toast, I discover that I don't like it and
throw it away.
Eventually the margin is almost over, I
arrive at my front door with 10 minutes to go. I open the door and find myself
in front of the pool, very close, only a few steps down. I can't actually see
much because they are playing a light game, but when the lights come on I can
see better how close it is, and I remain so even as I climb up to my seat. The
seats next to me are already occupied, but in the row there are a few vacant
ones left, then they will fill up, but in other blocks there will be a few empties,
although I think the block with the most empties was the athletes' sector.
Next to me, on one side are French, on the other some Asians, who when they
announce their athlete (in the 200 butterfly) I discover are from Taiwan. In my
row there are also Chinese from the People's Republic and even Colombians
(Colombia was not represented). In the front row, Americans and British,
around, Australians and, it will be seen in the 800 sl, also many Irish. In the
front rows there were also many Italians.
Already when they announce the participants in
the first race, you can see that, after the French, the most numerous are
Americans and British, but there are also numerous Australians and, as I said,
Irish, When they announce Noè Ponti you can see that there is also a good
representation of Swiss. The Chinese are also more than yesterday in archery (I
went to see the team archery yesterday, but due to technical problems with my PC I couldn't write about it). Among the countries with a swimming tradition,
Hungary, Canada and Sweden are underrepresented. The former I think is even the
only country represented, apart from Kyrgyzstan, whose flag I did not see: I
also saw one from the Philippines and a small group from Iceland. But the
strongest cheer is always for home athletes: the French are especially excited about
Marchand, the 400 metres mixed champion, who competes first in the 200
butterfly, winning the semi-final and reaching the final with the second
fastest time, and then also in the 200 breaststroke (and the first time I have
ever seen one compete in the breaststroke and another style), where he will set
the best time. In the breaststroke they will also mark the rhythm of his every
stroke. Sometimes the enthusiasm (not only of the French) is such that it is
hard to get silence for the start.
I soon realise that my position, behind the
pool on the start side, is excellent for watching the swimmers' arrival, their
preparation and the start (I will later discover that it allows me to see them very
closely, after the race, because they have to pass by the table right in front
of my block to get the pass for the mixed zone), but it does not allow me much
to understand how the race is going, especially in the sprint races, where the
gaps are smaller, except a little at the touch. In fact, in the first race, the
semi-finals of the 100 fs, I didn't understand much about how Miressi was
going, who was out of the final by 1/100. In the second, the 200 butterfly, it
goes better: in the second semi-final I see Malek take off. We get to the first
final, the women's 100 backstroke, where looking through binoculars I notice
that the Australian McKeown is the first to touch.
And we come to Paltrinieri's race. After the
first 100, where they're all close together and you can't understand anything,
I realise that he's behind the two in the lanes next to him, the Irish Wiffen
and the American Finke, but at the 400 I see that he's come closer, and in fact
he's moved up from sixth to fourth place. At the 450 he is still behind Finke
and Wiffen, but ahead of everyone else, at the 500 he is second, at the 600 he
is in the lead and at the 700 he has a good margin. In the penultimate length,
however, first Wiffen and then Finke start to catch up. In the last pool my
sector is almost all standing and you can hear the Irish cheering a lot. In the
end they are the ones celebrating and Paltrinieri is third: great race anyway.
The victory ceremony for the 100 backstroke
follows: the podium is on the side opposite mine, while on my side flags are
raised on flagpoles being lowered from the ceiling. The Australian anthem
plays, which to an Italian ear reminds one of an old mountain song in the
attack, and no one can be heard singing it, even though there are many
Australians present (the lyrics exist, I checked). Instead, when the Irish
anthem plays, I hear it sung rather loudly behind me. The break coincided with
the epee final, so I was able to read about Italy's gold and thus the
Fiamingo-Paltrinieri couple's double medal.
After the seimifinals of the women's 100 sl and
men's 200 breaststroke, we close with the final of the 4X200, which i wth 9 teams because of a tie in the heats. There was great involvement of the public, almost all of whom were
on their feet, since, after an attempt by Germany at the start, it soon
resolves itself into a three-way battle between the countries most represented
in the attendance after France: Great Britain, the USA and Australia. In the end
it's the British who celebrate.
Once the relay is over, there would still be a
victory ceremony, but many are heading for the exit. I decide to do it
too, as I have to have dinner, go back to the hotel and write, but no one in my
row does, so I have to make way.
Nessun commento:
Posta un commento