Doug Gillon in todays herald

Why ‘asylum-seeker’ philosophy may have a negative impactDOUG GILLON April 25 2007
The world lay at the feet of Liz McColgan when a publisher approached her about writing her autobiography, at the end of 1991. The Dundee woman had by then won successive Commonwealth 10,000 metres titles, and Olympic silver. Less than four months after the birth of her first child, she had won world cross-country bronze that year, then the world 10k track title. She had followed that with the then fastest debut marathon as she won in New York. Weeks later she was voted BBC Sports Personality of the Year.

How about it, asked the publisher?

"Autobiography? What for? I've not achieved anything yet," said Liz.

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She ended her racing career in London on Sunday with the book still unwritten. This prompts the thought: what constitutes sporting greatness? The conclusion is that too much may be happening too soon for today's pampered wannabees.

For years, I was among those who championed a lottery for British sport. Always first with the big idea? No. Every nation in Europe, Albania included, had one before us. Yet its arrival is no panacea. Legions of sportsmen and women, with as little as £2000-£3000 lottery support, believe this constitutes arrival. In reality it's the first slippery stepping stone across a wide torrent.

Some Scottish Institute of Sport inductees seem to regard membership as a sacred anointing. In reality it's sport's equivalent of an asylum-seeker's award of housing and living expenses. SIS inductees get access to lifestyle, coaching, strength-and-conditioning advice, services in nutrition, physiotherapy, and sports medicine and science.

SIS pays for this. The first meeting with sport psychologists throughout the UK Sport system, however, should be a mandatory defusing of the notion that lottery-funding and institute membership is a destination. Rather it is a first step on a 1000-mile journey.

That Confucian notion was evident in Zhou Chunxiu, winner of the Flora London Marathon and first Chinese winner at this distance outside China. Her coach won't let Zhou make the 24-hour journey from his training camp to her parents' home. She accepts this, a regime which demands she run for six hours every day, and a little over two on Sunday, plus surrender 75% of her winnings to the Chinese system with no whisper of dissent.

She considers it a privilege to be in the national team. "You must try hard for good results," said Zhou. "Just as others do in life, you must work hard for the future."

There is little danger of China's media turning Zhou's head. Even Olympic champion Liu Xiang, who took the world hurdles record from Colin Jackson, faces criticism if he steps out of line. He was not allowed to race outside China for money during the World Junior Championships in Beijing last year, because he was wanted at home as a role model.

A football colleague tells me of an Old Firm teenager making his debut some years ago. He'd an inspired match, scoring the winner.

A week earlier he'd been in the youth team.

Perhaps predictably, he succumbed to rave reviews. On the Monday he bought himself a sports car, and on arrival at the ground casually tossed the keys to an erstwhile youth-team colleague, with the instruction to park his motor. Needless to say, he has not lived up to his early promise.

Elsewhere in football, one might surmise that had Charlie Miller (arguably of greater potential than Barry Ferguson) adopted Brian Laudrup as his role model at Ibrox, rather than Paul Gascoigne, he might have flown much higher.

Gavin Henson springs to mind. After an outstanding season in the Welsh grand slam side of 2005, Gav and Charlotte Church were hailed as the Posh and Becks of rugby, but Henson was anonymous on the Lions tour and has slipped into near oblivion.

This week, the Scottish Rugby Union head of player development, Henry Edwards, told fellow correspondent Kevin Ferrie that just 2% of those capped at under-18 level in the past 10 years had gained senior caps. In Ireland it's 5%.

The implicit interpretation is that these kids feel they have made it with a youth cap. Certainly, former national coach Jim Telfer thought there were too many age-group caps who did not put in the work to get to the next level.

In countless Commonwealth and Olympic squads we have witnessed an endemic condition: "I've got the blazer syndrome". Instead of striving for the performance of their lives in the competitive arena, the blazer itself is too-often the intrinsic goal.

One applauds various initiatives, like the Bank of Scotland talented athlete squads. But it's a risk that membership itself becomes the goal.

Suffice to say, since the lottery came on stream, Scotland has not produced one global track champion. In the not-too-distant past, we had Olympic gold from Allan Wells (100m, 1980), 1993 World indoor champions Tom McKean (800m) and Yvonne Murray (3000m), and that world title from McColgan.

There was no lottery support then. At the modest level where it would be conferred today, they were still fighting their way up the food chain. You had to be World or Olympic final calibre to achieve any recognition.

Is pampering hampering?

This article was posted on 25-Apr-2007, 07:18 by Hugh Barrow.