That the Olympics serve to unite peoples is in the DNA of the Games. But if Pierre de Coubertin, the baron father of the modern Olympics who died in 1937, could reopen his eyes and watch the competitions – not being a pay-TV subscriber – only through public television, he would at least be thrilled to see how the spirit of "games without borders" prevails over the Olympic spirit, rampant in the world.
The manifestation that more than any other has a sharp planetary ends up being also the one that unleashes an organized orgy of patriotism as soon as its own athlete is in the race. Let's leave De Coubertin alone, but if a foreigner in Italy sees the Olympics on Rai, he has to put up with hours and hours of broadcasts all concentrated on the triumphs (of foil) and the blue flops (of swimming), forced to follow a frenzied zapping between one race and the other of the Italians in the competition. The same happens to an Italian abroad: just go from Ventimiglia to Nice, and TV and newspapers talk only about Muffat, Lefert and Agnel, the golds of transalpine swimming. To the others crumbs and little more. Yesterday evening I watched the women's 200m freestyle final: for the France2 commentators, in the throes of hysterical grandeur, there was only “la merveilleuse Camille” (that's Muffat's name). It matters little that she was beaten, albeit by a hair's breadth, by the American Allison Schmitt and she didn't repeat the success of the 400. Muffat always Muffat: Pellegrini a nod to the presentation and nothing more. A patriotic vein which in the case of English equestrianism infects the royal family taking turns in the stands to support Princess Anne's daughter, Zara Phillips, a passionate horsewoman. Patience if an obstacle knocked down by the queen's young niece effectively deprived Great Britain of its first gold medal, in an Olympics in which half the world is doing better than the hosts. So that if a certain correlation were true between the medal standings and the state of the economy, the pound should be worth less than an old Macau coin.
Fortunately for the Olympics, among the participating athletes – there are over 10 in London – there have always been some demigods who, while wearing the colors of a nation, belong to all humanity, for their records and their history: yesterday evening in the Olympic swimming pool in London, among many excellent champions and champions, there was one of these very rare demigods: Michael Phelps. With the gold conquered in the 4×200m freestyle relay and the silver in the 200m butterfly, he crowned an unparalleled career: he is the most successful athlete in the history of the Games with 19 medals, 15 of which are gold. A demigod in front of which everyone lays down their weapons and bell tower ardor, to comment, enraptured and admired in unison, on the unique feat of man.
