Somewhere deep inside Stadium Australia, a mobile phone rings.
It is one of those stirring digital tango tunes. Normally it makes 10 innocent bystanders recoil in horror. Today there are 100,000 recoiling people watching the 3000-metre steeplechase at the Olympic Games at Homebush in Sydney.
GORDIE DOUGALL [agitated]: "Hello ... what is it? I'm very busy."
CALLER [more agitated AND sarcastic]: "It's Bill Grumbleguts here. Remember me? The sports editor of The unAustralian, your employer?"
DOUGALL [taken aback]: "Ah, yes, Mr Grumbleguts. I'm just tied up at the moment. Can I get back to you?"
BILL GRUMBLEGUTS [furious]: "No, you bloody-well can't get back to me. I've been trying to get you all day! Your cell phone was switched off. Where have you been? What event are you at now?"
DOUGALL [matter of fact]: "The 3000-metre steeplechase, sir."
GRUMBLEGUTS [in rage]: "The steeplechase! You're supposed to be covering the long jump.
Australian long-jumper Jai Taurima very recently claimed that black athletes could not win in Sydney because of the cooler climate. He also called his rivals "dribblers".
Why he would say this is anyone's guess?
His comments certainly seemed to stir up American Savante Stringfellow who beat Taurima by .1m to win a pre-Olympic meet in only 17 degree celsius temperatures in Brisbane on September 3.
Then he added salt to Taurima's wounds by saying, "I want it even colder. I've even jumped in Boise (Idaho) - that's colder than this."
Both Stringfellow and Taurima have superman tattoos on their bodies.
The unAustralian, along with 100,000 spectators, wanted to know which superman was going to fly today.
DOUGALL [apologetic]: Er, I got waylaid, sir.
GRUMBLEGUTS [white with rage]: Waylaid! We don't pay you to get waylaid. We pay you to write stories. Get your arse over to the jump immediately.
DOUGALL [pleading]: But I can't. My race isn't finished yet.
GRUMBLEGUTS [red hot with white rage]: Gordie, no one gives a stuff about those dribblers. There are no Australians in that race.
DOUGALL [pleading more]: That's where you're wrong, sir. I am. And I am winning. It's the final lap and I'm in front.
GRUMBLEGUTS [confused]: What ARE you talking about?
DOUGALL [puffing]: Er, well, I was walking over to the long jump area, sir, like you requested, and someone asked me if I was the Australian. I said yes, and he hands me a number. Next thing I know, I'm lining up in the 3000-metre steeplechase.
The 3000-metre steeplechase is one of the more eccentric running events in the Olympic stadium.
The contest covers seven laps of the track. On the journey, the runners must leap 28 three-foot high hurdles and seven water jumps.
The water jump, the fourth jump of each lap, gently slopes from 27.5 inches deep to track level at the farthest end. Oh, and there's a hurdle at the start too.
A runner may clear any hurdle in one of three ways: jumping, hand vaulting over or, as they favour with the water jump, landing with a foot on the top bar and pushing off being extra careful not to castrate themselves.
However, they must go over the bar - not under it, limbo style. And flippers and goggles are not allowed in the water jump.
GRUMBLEGUTS [blue with rage]: Fuck, you're not allowed to race! You're an accredited journo!
DOUGALL [puffing more]: Hang on sir, just coming up to the last water jump. Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, splassssh.
GRUMBLEGUTS [struggling with the new technology; they didn't have cell phones when he covered the Mexico Games in 1968]: You still there, Gordie? I'm losing you. Hello, hello ...
DOUGALL [back in stride, albeit wet]: Yes, sir, over the final water jump and still in front, Mr Grumbleguts.
The Australian Olympic Committee prohibits athletes from giving interviews on their cell phones to non-accredited athletes while in the Olympic village.
If a journalist is accredited, their security pass could be taken away.
Australian athletes are also not permitted to act as journalists during the Games, and that includes writing daily diaries for newspapers and giving reports on radio or on the Internet.
GRUMBLEGUTS [on red alert]: Did you hear what I said? Stop! Stop! Don't you dare win that race. You are allowed to race. You're an accredited journo.
DOUGALL [crossing the finish line first and suddenly rethinking his future]: I couldn't find anything in the rules against journos competing, only competitors being journalists. I'm not sure you should be talking to me at the moment, though. That IS against the rules. I'm an Olympic champion and you're just a DRIBBLER!
©2000 John Martin. All Rights Reserved
If you liked this short column perhaps you'll like my new comic fiction novel, which has nearly 250 pages of laughs. Check out the first chapter here free