Emotions are what draw us to sport

THE aftermath of a race is a blur. A haze of emotions, a whirl of colour, a cacophony of noise.

Each race is marked with its unique scent, its own, distinct flavour. The sweet, intoxicating taste of victory. The bitter, biting tang of disappointment.

As the results on the scoreboard become official, and the whistle blows, heralding the athletes to exit the pool, lungs still screaming, legs still shaking, you make your way over the media mixed zone, either desolate and dejected or ecstatic and beaming.

Before you’ve had a chance to catch your breath, gather your thoughts or regain composure, there is a reporter waiting for you, a microphone is shoved in your face, and a camera hungrily broadcasting your every move, your every word to millions of people.

I have lived through every variation of this scenario since I was 16. It is strange, in the aftermath of life-defining moments, often the first person you talk to about the experience is a reporter.

Some of the best and worst moments of my life have been shared with a kind-eyed journalist smiling at me while extending a microphone, and therefore by extension, with the millions of people watching from loungerooms all around Australia.

The best reporters make the good moments better and the bad moments bearable. The bad reporters can sour even the sweet taste of victory. I have experienced both.

As a sports fan, the postrace, post-match, post-game interview is my favourite thing to watch. I respect and admire the athletes who allow us to share in moments of unbridled joy and are brave enough to show us the heartbreaking pain of disappointment.

Emotions are ultimately what draw us to sport, and the post-race interview is when we get to share those emotions with the athlete. Being on the other side of the microphone excites and terrifies me. I know how one question can make or break an athlete.