A sporting chance in a win-at-all-costs world

A sporting chance in a win-at-all-costs world

It was Feb. 13th, the last day of the nine-round chess
competition at the National Journalists Games (Porwanas) in
Pekanbaru, Riau.

Although I had no chance of winning a medal in the individual
competition, my teammate Rela Ginting, a National Master, was
hopeful of bringing Jakarta gold in the team event in his last
match.

We set out from the hotel in high spirits. It was a 20-minute
drive to the venue, along a new two-lane highway and past an
almost completed mall, concrete symbols of the oil-rich
province's desire to stamp its identity in the age of autonomy.

As we drove, my mind could not help wander to what a gold
medal would mean. Usually limited to reporting on the sporting
exploits of others, I would now get to bask in the moment of
being the hero, applauded for bringing Jakarta a rare medal.

A bonus? Well, why not? Bonuses are something to hope for, or
even to fight for (case in point in badminton player Taufik
Hidayat and official Icuk Sugiarto almost coming to blows on
Tuesday over its distribution).

But it was a passing hope; a contingent official had told us
we were lucky to make it to the event, with several corporations
that earlier pledged funds withdrawing them after the terrible
Dec. 26 tsunami.

Even with the calls for the games to be scrapped altogether
and the money contributed to rebuilding Aceh, Porwanas, in
conjunction with National Press Day on Feb. 10, had gone ahead.

A medal around my neck, I thought, would be the final,
crowning glory on my hiatus spent freed from newsroom deadlines
and enjoying the trappings of an athlete competing for his team.

It began upon arrival, as I was quickly ushered through the
security checkpoint in my red-and-white jersey, my luggage taken
care of and safely deposited in my hotel.

I was one of 1,800 representatives from 32 contingents
competing in 12 sports: athletics, chess, badminton, billiards,
bowling, bridge, rowing, swimming, soccer, tennis, table tennis
and volleyball.

The opening ceremony, with a mass dance by 1,000 students and
a skydiving performance, heightened the mood. In our official
team uniforms, we walked past the honorary podium, taking off our
hats to acknowledge the dignitaries.

"Good luck, and uphold sportsmanship," declared a chairman of
the organizing committee.

Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that the second part of
his message was in short supply on the courts, pitches and
stadiums where the competitions played out.

For many of the supposed "journalists" were nothing of the
sort. Instead, some contingents had recruited skilled amateurs to
compete in their win-at-all-costs quest for medals.

Real journalists were competing against opponents who were way
out of their league.

It appeared the host team was especially guilty of this
practice, perhaps seeking to justify the Rp 6 billion expenditure
to its people with a bumper haul of medals.

A Papuan volleyball team, finding itself up against the host
team allegedly fielding six nonjournalists, played for a few
seconds, and then gave up in mock surrender.

In the soccer final between Riau and Jakarta, the visitors,
trailing 1-2, refused to play the last 15 minutes because, they
said, the referee was partial.

Even locals were disgusted by the sham.

"I really deplore this act. We all know we have been fighting
against bogus journalists ... but how can it happen that we
accommodate them to play in this event?" said a caller to a TV
talk show.

On that final day, we experienced the dodgy practices for
ourselves.

The match, with Rela taking on a local favorite, began 30
minutes earlier than scheduled, with nobody bothering to inform
us.

With Rela racing against time to avoid being defaulted, we
arrived. Then fans swirling above came to a halt. "The
electricity cut out," an official said.

Rela was in a winning position but ran out of time. To our
surprise -- like magic, or perhaps conforming to a carefully
devised "game plan" -- the fans suddenly went on again.

Still, our team took the bronze.

Back in Jakarta a few days later, I met Rela's conqueror in a
qualifying tournament for the 2005 SEA Games in Manila.

"What a tight competition it is here," he said. "But I'll try
to do my best, in order to keep my bosses back at the freight
shipment company smiling."

Winning and losing is not all the same, after all. Others can
have their gold medals, but I have my own taking pride of place
in my home.

And I won it fair and square. -- Musthofid