We were born too late to see dinosaurs and too early for flying cars.
But how lucky are we to live in the era of now, the age of ‘The Athlete’?
Faster, higher, stronger: Olympic Games fever is real and it has gripped my household.
News feeds have taken on a sporting flavour and our conversations turn endlessly to schedules and updates.
Dawn breaks every day like Christmas, with golden gifts from Paris waiting to be unwrapped and enjoyed together.
I have always loved the biggest sports competition in the world: the pomp, the ceremony, the modern-day gladiators and fierce competition between nations.
For me, it transcends the petty discussions, politicking and hand-wringing.
The goal of the Olympic movement is to contribute to building a peaceful and better world.
Colour, creed, religion, political systems are set aside as athletes engage in what George Orwell said was “war, minus the shooting”.
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Competition can and should be fierce, make no mistake.
This is no giant group hug and the stakes are high as each nation pits its best against the others.
There is no doubting the goal of every athlete at the Olympics is to win a medal.
And medals are made of more than gold, silver and bronze: they are made of sweat, dedication, talent and that increasingly rare alloy – courage.
No nation officially wins the Olympics, but that doesn’t stop media and government bean-counters from keeping score by counting gold, silver and bronze medals.
Unfortunately, the two main approaches are equally flawed: the raw medal count favours populous nations, while ranking nations by medals per capita favours small nations that win one or two medals.
The tally is not a true measure of success anyway and nations should be ranked, not measured, because how can you measure the soaring rush of an underdog snatching a victory or the seasoned champion who cements themselves as invincible?
Cynics be damned, I say.
There is simple joy in engaging with the stories behind the world’s finest athletes, and acknowledging the goosebumps that erupt, unbidden, as a victor weeps on the podium.
Just for a couple of weeks every four years, we should suspend cynicism and revel in the fabulousness of it all.
What a time to be alive.
Dr Jane Stephens is a UniSC journalism lecturer, media commentator and writer.
