Anybody who follows Scottish sport knows they can expect a roller-coaster ride of experiences and emotions, ranging from triumph to tristesse.
And, when it comes to the current Commonwealth Games in Birmingham, this can happen in the space of a few minutes, given the packed programme of events at different venues, with parasports thrown into the mix until they finish next Monday.
In some respects, the programme is a nonsense and there seems no good reason why the Games couldn’t have been extended to a fortnight to accommodate the intense schedule of qualifying heats, finals and medal ceremonies before yet another high-profile clash on the track, in the pool, at the velodrome and myriad other venues.
Duncan Scott was on the receiving end of that on Saturday when he barely had time to power his way to golden success in the 200m freestyle before he was collecting his medal, listening to the national anthem and getting ready for the 400m individual medley final, where he collected a bronze to add to his tally.
The pundits were naturally impressed by his stamina, effervescence and willingness to put his body through the wringer – and he gained revenge over his English rival Tom Dean for his defeat at the Tokyo Olympics in the process – but it was hardly surprising that many of the athletes were looking frazzled by the close of the weekend’s action.
They had just come off a treadmill and, while it offered a feast of terrific entertainment for those of us with the luxury of sitting and watching at our ease, it left me wondering whether the organisers had spent less time thinking about the stresses being placed on the competitors than satisfying the voracious demands of broadcasters.
And yet, whatever reservations there might be about shoehorning so many different sports, including women’s T20 cricket and Sevens rugby into the programme, I love the Commonwealth Games – the camaraderie between the different teams and the fact that Scots of all ages and backgrounds have joined forces to strive for success and orchestrate a situation where, in the space of 48 hours, we could cheer on Neil Fachie, Aileen McGlynn, Beth Potter, Ross Murdoch, Sean Frame, Toni Shaw, Jack Carlin, Katie Shanahan, Neah Evans, Stephen Clegg and, of course, Scott.
The patriotic stirrings had begun during the opening ceremony when Fife-born Dame Louise Martin, the first-ever female president of the Commonwealth Games Federation, launched a stirring defence of why this festival is still important in 2022, a little matter of 60 years after she herself participated in the swimming pool in Australia in 1962.
As she told her global audience: “We are one family. Our 72 nations, we all speak the same languages. We’re all in this together. If you go into the village and see the athletes together, it’s family, that’s how we speak and how we see each other.
“Some people talk about colonialism and all the different breakdowns. Yes, people want independence, but people still want to be a part of the Commonwealth Games. We’re unique because we are holding everyone together.”
She was right. And it was such a tonic to witness Aberdeen parasport legend Neil Fachie transcending illness to claim a record-equalling fifth Commonwealth Games gold.
The cyclist had been struggling with a cold right up to the competition on Friday and had lost his voice by the time it came to the tandem B 1km time trial But, undaunted by the expectations heaped on his shoulders, he and his compatriot, Lewis Stewart, produced a blistering performance to add another gold to his abundance of prizes.
Fachie’s pride as he stood with his medal while the anthem resounded was a delight to behold for this resilient, engaging character.
And, so too was the unalloyed joy on Ross Murdoch’s face as the swimmer, who “retired” last year, seized an against-the-odds bronze in the 200m breaststroke and subsequently celebrated Scott’s victory the following evening with a rendition of Flower of Scotland, which suggests that Lewis Capaldi and Paolo Nutini have nothing to worry about in the vocal talent stakes.
Yet that was one of the best aspects of the action; the regular spontaneous exhibitions of delight from athletes who rarely get the opportunity to shine in the limelight.
The whole concept of Team GB at various events including the Olympics and Winter Olympics has been a stroke of corporate genius, but too many commentators talk about them as being “English or “British”.
Here, in Birmingham, our representatives are proudly Scottish and, whether they win or lose, they are pushing themselves to the limit.
The Saltires which were draped around Fachie and Scott – hopefully with others to follow as the week progresses – weren’t the only positive note.
While I’m no great fan of Flower of Scotland, at least it and Jerusalem and Land of My Fathers are an improvement on God Save the Queen, which is so closely associated with Team GB.
Some may deride these Games as being an anachronism in the modern age. They’re nothing of the sort. On the contrary, with the Americans, Chinese and Russians absent, there’s something life-affirming about the friendly rivalry between the contenders.
Egos have been parked at the door. These people are in Birmingham to chase honours, but also to enjoy themselves. A philosophy which other sports could heed.
