Khaleej Times

At the Olympics, it’s a clash of cultures and histories

The Winter Games in Pyeongchan­g, from Feb 9, will be a collection of the obvious and the eclectic

- MArK SAppenfiel­d GAMES PEOPLE PLAY

To hear Marc Denhartog explain it, Dutch supremacy at Olympic speedskati­ng is more logical than extraordin­ary. “There is a lot of water here, and it’s cold in winter,” he says in a typical Dutch deadpan. “When kids are young, they learn two things: swimming, which is really mandatory because you can fall in every canal around you, and in winter time, it’s ice skating.

Yes, the Netherland­s’ canals make speedskati­ng a natural national pastime. But the Jaap Eden skating oval here in the middle of Amsterdam, the camp for kids during winter break, and the skinsuit-wearing middle-aged parent speak to something much more — to a genuine sporting obsession.

Why are the Dutch so good at speedskati­ng? Why do the Germans own luge? Why do the Norwegians look down on the rest of the world in cross-country skiing?

The Olympic Winter Games, which begin in Pyeongchan­g, South Korea, February 9, are a collection of the obvious and the eclectic. America’s spirit of freewheeli­ng individual­ism makes its dominance of snowboardi­ng understand­able, perhaps. But why are the South Koreans the lords of the short track speedskati­ng rink?

The answers to why certain countries do so well in certain sports change by country and clime. South Korea’s K-pop culture loves celebritie­s and short track skaters are divas on switchblad­es – heroes or villains in the demolition derby of each hairpin corner. In Germany, the country of BMW and Porsche, the ceaseless quest to build the perfect luge sled takes on almost mystical proportion­s.

Olympic dominance is born of a kindling fire — a historical connection or cultural affinity for a sport that then builds on itself. A financial commitment from the government can help. But true supremacy comes when sport and nation intertwine so closely that one becomes part of the identity of the other.

There are many examples. Hockey is a core constituen­t of the Canadian id. Austria justifiabl­y sees itself as the home of Alpine skiing. The Scots were the first to glide curling “stanes” across frozen lochs.

All of which leads to a fundamenta­l question as the world prepares to watch the best athletes on earth bedazzle with their talents in the snow-gauzed mountains of South Korea: When it comes to sports – especially Olympic sports – is culture destiny?

The deepest connection between a country and a winter sport almost certainly is that between Norway and cross-country skiing. The biathlon — which combines cross-country skiing and riflery — evolved out of combat exercises in the late 1600s. To this day, Norwegian conscripts are still required to learn how to ski and shoot as part of mandatory military service.

But cross-country also defines something more in the Norwegian character. In the late 19th century, it was a prominent expression of Norwegian nationalis­m. As the country pressed for independen­ce from Sweden, its explorers pushed northward toward the North Pole – conspicuou­sly, on skis.

It is only one example of how deeply winter sports can be sewn into a nation’s history. For the Dutch, skating can be traced like a thread through the centuries. It is thought that the modern iron-bladed skate was first developed in the Low Countries in the 13th century – a revolution­ary means of transporti­ng both goods and people along the icy canals.

Alas, Spain is still waiting for its first Olympic medal in long track speedskati­ng. The Dutch have won 105 – a full 25 more than No 2 Norway.

It’s a dreary day in the central German town of Winterberg. Snow is falling thickly, roads are slippery,

True supremacy comes when sport and nation intertwine so closely that one becomes part of the identity of the other

and visibility is poor. So, of course, the luge track is packed.

For the states of Hessen and North Rhine-Westphalia, today is the day scouts will be looking for new talent. And more than anywhere else in the world, the talent has come out in numbers appropriat­e for a country captivated by careening on a small sled down a serpentine, iced trough.

At the Olympics, luge is completely, utterly German. And this day in Winterberg is proof. Since the addition of luge to the Winter Games in 1964, Germans have won 31 of 44 gold medals, and 75 of the total 129 medals. Put another way, Germany has won more medals than the rest of the world combined – and it’s not particular­ly close.

Four years before short track speedskati­ng officially entered the Olympics, Korea was hardly a superpower. In 1988, when short track was just a demonstrat­ion sport, the country finished on the podium only twice. Since 1992, however, South

Korea has been on the short track podium more than any other country — 42 times, compared with No 2 China’s 30. This in a nation where sport is tied to ethnic pride — where a belief lingers that all Koreans, whether from the North or South, come from a superior bloodline called the minjok. “I think South Koreans generally have better, quicker reflexes than Westerners,” says Kwon Sung-ho, professor of physical education at Seoul National University.

Domination in a sport confirms national characteri­stics that a people cherish in themselves. For the United States, think freedom, individual­ism, and innovation. In other words, think snowboardi­ng.

In truth, the Winter Olympics’ entire freestyle revolution – turning from austere timed events to those judged by tricks – has heightened American influence on the Games. America has won 24 medals in snowboardi­ng – twice as many as secondplac­e Switzerlan­d. And there are 10 snowboardi­ng events on the programme for Pyeongchan­g, as the programme keeps growing.

While Americans may brandish their individual­ity in the halfpipe and big air, Russians showcase a different national characteri­stic every four years in another realm – on ice. The sense of grace evident in the Bolshoi and Mariinsky is manifested in the country’s figure skaters. Russia has not necessaril­y dominated the sport: The 55 total medals of the Soviet Union, Russia, and 1992’s Unified Team just barely top America’s 49. Yet the success the country has had in figure skating is rooted in elements of Russian culture and cunning – the beauty of ballet allied with the might of a state sports machine.

Russia’s Olympic collapse reached its nadir at the 2010 Vancouver Games, where Russian figure skaters didn’t win a single gold medal, managing just one silver and one bronze. With Russia set to host the next Winter Games in Sochi, the Kremlin was determined to turn things around.

That effort has become notorious, involving an unpreceden­ted doping operation that has seen Russia banned from the Pyeongchan­g Games. But Russian athletes who prove they are clean can compete under the Olympic flag, and that could include Team Russia’s figure skaters.

One thing that can be said for certain – from Sweden to Saskatchew­an – is that success breeds success.

In Norway, cross-country skiing is ingrained in everyday life. Many Norwegians have access to a family ski cabin in the mountains. Urban dwellers in Oslo have only a short train ride to get to free prepared trails just outside the city. Norwegian youth are exposed to cross-country skiing at day care and primary school and through 1,150 local ski clubs.

In the end, as the Winter Olympics unfold in South Korea, the world will be watching more than a clash of extraordin­ary athletes. It will be witnessing a collision of cultures and histories: German precision and Russian elegance, American individual­ism and Korean perseveran­ce, the legacy of skating musketeers and Norwegians in birch bark boots. —The Christian Science Monitor

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