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by
Chris Wodskou
CBC Sports Online
Canadian
spirits soared early on Day Two of the 2000 Summer Olympics
in Sydney when Simon Whitfield's uncorked a brilliant finishing
kick to run away with a spirited upset win in the men's triathlon.
Whitfield's inspired performance was just the sort of thing
that would buoy his compatriots competing in Sydney, but things
somehow fell apart for the Canadian contingent. Whitfield's
heroics were pretty much as good as it got for Canada until
Daniel Igali's memorable freestyle wrestling gold in the waning
moments of the Games.
As the number of subpar Canadian performances steadily grew,
"disappointment" became the Canadian watchword of the Sydney
Games. There was a clearly a massive disconnect between the
reality of Canada's competitiveness in elite global competition
and the heady expectations that Canada would better its haul
of 22 medals at the Atlanta Olympics.
| "At
the 2004 Summer Olympics, we will see the products of
our lack of attention in the '90s coming through." |
| Mark
Lowry, COA director of sport |
Before
long, it was a ritual of CBC's Olympic coverage to ask athletes,
coaches and commentators what was going wrong. The answers
came quickly from athletes like swimmer Marianne Limpert,
a silver medallist in 1996: an abject lack of funding for
athletes, especially compared to other countries; lack of
access to topnotch training and facilities; questionable use
of resources and disarray in the nation's sports federations
and governing bodies, beginning with the Canadian Olympic
Association; and a lack of vision guiding Canadian amateur
sports, period.
Even when Canadians seemed to get bad breaks, such as Bruny
Surin's untimely hamstring injury at the Canadian track and
field trials a month before the Games, the thinking was that
had as much to do with bad management as bad luck.
Most tellingly, Mark Lowry, the COA's director of sport, said,
"Many of the results in Sydney were predictable. We could
see in terms of world championships and events in 1998 and
'99 that many of the countries we are competitive with were
simply moving to another level.
"At
the 2004 Summer Olympics," Lowry added darkly, "we will see
the products of our lack of attention in the '90s coming through.
The Superbowl of amateur sports
Being the principled Canadians that we are, most of us would
be loath to publicly declare that our athletes let us down
in Sydney. And by any measure other than medals, it was a
banner Olympics for Canada. The 14 medals Canadians brought
back from Sydney may have been many fewer Atlanta, but Canada
also registered more top-eight placings (and even then, the
14 medals were the fourth-most ever for Canada). Canadians
may have won only one swimming medal in Sydney, but a host
of Canadian records and personal bests were set in the pool.
So we were close to the best and surely competitive, but do
close and competitive cut it? Or do we require medals as proof
of our sporting prowess and competitive spirit?
David Ford would be one of those Canadian athletes who rated
as "disappointing" in Sydney. The first North American to
become the whitewater kayaking world champion, Ford has never
excelled at the Olympics and had his worst showing yet at
Sydney, finishing second-last.
"Obviously,
going to three Olympics as a medal hopeful and coming away
with nothing is a disappointment on a personal level," says
Ford.
| "...
we also need to make sure that Canadians hear about whenever
a Canadian athlete wins a medal anywhere." |
| David
Ford, Canadian world champion kayaker |
"On
the one hand, the Canadian way is to say, 'You did your best,
and we're proud of you,' but then you see how Canadians rallied
around Daniel Igali and Simon Whitfield, and you see how important
it is to a country to have its athletes excel and to feel
proud of their athletes. I think it makes it a lot easier
to identify with amateur athletes when they win medals."
Canadians still have plenty of reasons to be proud of Ford's
exploits as a world champion and perennial World Cup kayaking
medallist, but those achievements tend to be lost on Canadians,
who get interested in amateur sports like kayaking only during
the Olympics.
"The
Olympics should be the biggest deal," says Ford, "because
it's the Superbowl of amateur sports. But we also need to
make sure that Canadians hear about whenever a Canadian athlete
wins a medal anywhere."
A tale of two countries
The media's hue and cry over Canada's medal shortfall might
have been quieter were it not for the stunning success of
the host Australians. With only about two-thirds the population
of Canada, Australians won 58 medals. The inevitable accompanying
statistic was that Australia spends $280 million annually
on amateur sport, about four-and-a-half times as much as Canada's
current budget of $62 million - a figure $24 million lower
than the spending level of 1988.
It wasn't so long ago when Canada was outperforming Australia.
At the 1976 Montreal Olympics, Australia won just five medals,
but Canada won only 11 and suffered the distinction of being
the only host country ever to fail to win a gold medal. Both
countries responded by undertaking ambitious programs to overhaul
their amateur sports programs.
Alex Baumann was a beneficiary of the improved Canadian system,
one that helped him win two gold medals, including a world-record
performance in the 400-metre individual medley, as perhaps
the greatest Canadian swim team of all time at the 1984 Los
Angeles Games.
"At
that point," says Baumann, "the carding system in Canada was
probably ahead of other countries. The system also really
supported the clubs, so the smaller clubs that had some good
swimmers had a good deal of support, meaning that small programs
were able to develop good athletes. It was also critical that
we had the right coaches in the right places."
Baumann is now at the end of his tenure at the CEO of Queensland
Swimming, which develops swimming in the Australian state
from the grassroots to the Olympic level of competition. The
organization oversees some 300 clubs and over 25,000 members,
and its talent identification program has paid huge dividends,
producing such Olympic medallists as Susie O'Neill, Kieran
Perkins and Grant Hackett.
Queensland Swimming is part of Australia's enviable network
of amateur sports development, and it's proof that along with
adequate funding, organizational excellence is essential.
In addition to nurturing their own athletes, Australia aggressively
recruited athletes from other countries (including an attempt
to recruit Canadian swimmer Joanne Malar). Most important,
perhaps, the Australians have created an atmosphere where
amateur sports is at least as popular as pro sports, and that's
in stark contrast with Canada.
"You
look at the two countries after 1976, and they're very similar,"
explains Baumann. "Both had a dismal Olympics, but they put
in different plans. A lot of people thought that the Australian
Institute of Sport would divert money to a few athletes at
the expense of the grassroots, but it did raise the bar. It
forced coaches to try to develop their athletes if they were
going to make it to the national, elite sport centre in Canberra.
It also fosters a healthy rivalry between different clubs,
and the state institutes really complement the larger national
program. This has been critical, and it's what Australia has
done better than just about anyone in the world."
Where the money goes
Canada's amateur sports spending goes to fund Canada's 38
sports federations, maintaining facilities, hosting competitions
and sending Canadian athletes to international meets like
the Olympics. About $14.5 million a year goes directly to
amateur athletes. The top carding level of $1,100 a month
goes to 799 elite athletes, and 464 others receive $500 a
month.
| "...
there's also a lot of frustration that they can't focus
on the training necessary to compete with the rest of
the world when they have to look after making ends meet." |
| CBC
host Nancy Wilson |
It's
not enough. For a lot of athletes unable to supplement their
income with corporate sponsorships or endorsement deals, being
an elite amateur athletes amounts to an extended vow of poverty,
living off maxed-out credit cards and the indulgence and understanding
of supportive friends and family. Either that or they get
jobs, which interferes with the training needed to keep up
with rival athletes from countries that spend more on their
athletes.
Sami Jo Small is a stalwart with the Canadian women's hockey
team. She's one of the world's top goalies in women's hockey,
and still, as the CBC's documentary team for The Summit On
Sports found out, she's living on the edge, excelling as an
athlete while dealing with awful living conditions.
While making the documentary, CBC journalist Nancy Wilson
also found that Small's predicament was hardly isolated.
"One
of the most striking things in talking to the athletes is
that you hear the same sentiments," says Wilson. "These are
people who understand that they have chosen this path, and
they're grateful for support, but there's also a lot of frustration
that they can't focus on the training necessary to compete
with the rest of the world when they have to look after making
ends meet.
"When
they get to the defining moment of their lives at the Olympics,
they need to be physically and mentally prepared. They want
to live up to expectations, but they're frustrated because
they wonder whether the sports federations and bureaucracies
truly understands their needs and whether the money that exists
is being spent in the best possible way. There's a feeling
that the COA doesn't represent them in the best possible way."
Frederick Andrade is the Toronto-based coach of Canadian Olympic
sprinters Naabiama Salifu and Martha Adusei, and he also has
concerns about the way money is spent.
"Everybody's
looking for money, but where's the money going?" Andrade asks.
"There's too much bureaucracy and a cycle of waste, and there's
not enough purposeful spending of money. There's nothing left
for the athletes. We need a total paradigm shift so we're
not spending money on study after study and then another study
on the study until none of makes it way to the athletes."
The organizational problems plaguing Canadian track athletes
in Sydney were evident to Andrade from the start.
"Looking
at my accessibility to my athletes, looking at the decisions
of the medical staff, looking at the personnel, I was worried
for the athletes. The team bonded very well, but a number
of things negated the spirit. There was no really good training
plan for the women's relay team, to give you an example. It
was my first real experience with Canadian track, and when
I was there, I was just aghast, not just from the perspective
of Athletics Canada, but for what the COA did for them. I
didn't think the athletes could hope to accomplish a lot under
these conditions."
Andrade has a bigger gripe with the Canadian public. He had
to do his own fundraising to pay his way there, but found
that his efforts at raising funds where rebuffed with hostility
by a lot of the people he approached for help. Ultimately,
it was the support of family and friends that got him to Sydney.
Not everyone complains. Daniel Igali makes it clear that he
has it a lot better as an amateur athlete in Canada than the
Nigeria where he grew up. But Canada is a rich country in
the bigger scheme of things. Funding amateur sports is not
much an issue of feasibility as where it fits in the list
of priorities and how much Canadians are willing to pay for
taking pride in their athletes and role models - after all,
most would consider Igali a better role model than, say, Allen
Iverson.
"Some
see Sydney as a blessing in surprise," says Wilson. "It showed
what happens when the resources, the money and the planning
wasn't really there. It's opened the debate over how badly
we want more medals - and if we want them, we have to create
an environment that will produce them."
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