Change the record

It's perhaps only natural that my propensity for pedantry should be heightened during Olympic coverage, given that I watch television more intently than usual during this particular sporting showcase. But the gaffes made by BBC commentators are just cringeworthy.

The first slip-up came during the opening ceremony. After the Greek athletes had been led out around the track (as is usual), the commentator remarked that the subsequent order of teams was awry. It was alphabetical — albeit not alphabetical in English. Maybe since London 2012 someone has forgotten that, just like the Olympics, the alphabet is not just for speakers of English! For example, in other languages, say, Portuguese and French, South Africa (África do Sul and Afrique du Sud in Portuguese and French, respectively) comes before Andorra in the list of countries.

Other infuriating commentator calamities come when, as if the achievements of athletes are insufficient in and of themselves; the jingoistic journalists change the record to reflect some kind of first gained in addition to the gold medal. One widely reported example came when John Inverdale, claimed that Andy Murray was the first tennis player to win two Olympic golds — a claim immediately corrected by Murray himself, as he rightly highlighted the achievements of Venus and Serena Williams (who have won four golds each). Murray is merely the first person to be a double Olympic champion in the tennis singles discipline. Oops!

Inverdale inadvertently ignoring the achievements of women in the immediate afterglow of Andy's triumph only serves to demonstrate the sensitivity needed when reporting the firsts or "first gold medal since ..." stories. We've now had Laura Trott and Jason Kenny winning golds to become the "first British woman to win four gold medals" and "winner of six gold medals to equal the tally of Sir Chris Hoy," respectively. As the golden couple are getting married next month, perhaps at the 2020 Olympics in Tokyo, if they successfully defend their 2016 gold medals; they'll become the first married couple ever to win gold medals at consecutive Olympics held in host cities that both end with the letter 'o'! How great would that be?

My point here is that the media spin to change the record for the sake of a new 'first' often detracts from or even trivialises the sporting feats being celebrated — as first female African-American to win gold in swimming, Simone Manuel, indicates:

"The title 'black swimmer' makes it seem like I'm not supposed to be able to win a gold medal or I'm not supposed to be able to break records and that's not true because I work just as hard as anybody else. I want to win just like everybody else.''

Athletes, like everyone else, just want a level playing field, literally. Anything that stands in the way of that fairness, such as an award, distinction or epithet seen to refer to the kind of inequality we should be striving to eradicate, is unhelpful. 

This includes the infuriating phrase "away Games". Rio has already been Team GB's best ever 'away Games'. The event has been held here four times in its 120-year history. Most Olympic Games are 'away games' for most of the participants! When and how did not hosting the Olympics on British territory become such a disadvantage? Were we expecting the host nation to win the lion's share of the medals in Rio? This distinction is a huge insult to any country without the means or luck to have been allowed to host the Olympic Games as often or at all! I wonder if reporters in other countries display the same sporting imperialism to create new records and statistics in this way. 

I understand that competition is fierce — and rightly so. But journalists and content writers have an important role to play in reporting achievements accurately and respectfully, so that the public see athletes not pigeon-holed by gender, ethnicity or nationality; but rather as heroes for all humanity.       

Dedication, that's what you need

When I was 16 and struggling with Maths at school, I had private tuition for eight weeks prior to the final exam. I worked hard and passed the exam with a B grade. But more than any vital life-skills of decoding simultaneous quadratic equations or working out how high a window cleaner's ladder extended up the outside wall of a house, it was the Latin aphorism that the tutor – a retired headmaster – had displayed in calligraphic letters in his study that stayed with me:

Meret qui laborat (He is deserving who is industrious).

Now as a teacher myself, I recently taught two students – both aged 16 – for a year on a course to prepare them for the Cambridge First Certificate exam in English. They both also passed their exam with very good B grades. The course wasn't a breeze, and the two of them had to work hard over many months. One of them is now beginning an apprenticeship to become a watchmaker. I'm sure he'll be excellent at it.  

All of this set me thinking about how we measure success. It seems to me that in the UK over the last 15 years or so, from an educational perspective, people have been preoccupied with quantifying achievement. Former UK prime minister Tony Blair famously wanted 50% of young people to go to university. This policy has proven to be a damaging experiment in social engineering which, in our tougher economic times, is confirmed by the lack of appropriate career opportunities for thousands of graduates. Secondly, tuition fees, debt and the resulting market in tertiary education really are causing many young people to consider whether a degree is worth it. Factor in the recent worrying stories concerning vocational training and employment schemes and you might begin to wonder who actually cares about young people and their potential.

Yet over the past fortnight, we have marvelled at people's potential and achievement in London. Some media outlets have looked into the backgrounds and/or education of Team GB athletes (55% of them are currently at university or are graduates). Others prefer to draw up a medals table of the UK further education and higher education institutions attended by athletes. I could understand if people were using such statistics to highlight potential problems concerning the equality of opportunity for athletes, though in the case of the medals table at least, this doesn't appear to be the motivation.

So what about the medalists from more modest backgrounds? Jade Jones is 19 years old. Is her Olympic gold medal worth less because she left school at 16 to take up taekwondo full time? Is 20-year-old Laura Trott less deserving of her two Olympic golds because she also left school (a specialist sports college) and seemingly went straight into cycling? We need to focus more on people's individual achievements rather than where they came from. For me, the lasting legacy of London 2012 is simply that in spite of their backgrounds, in sport or elsewhere, young people can achieve anything if they have the support of their families, friends and communities – and if they have the desire and determination to succeed.