Vancouver Sun

British Olympians advised not to shake on it

Chief medical officer is terrified germs will down athletes, but the gentlemanl­y gesture is necessary to sport

- BY JIM WHITE

London is set to welcome the world on July 28. Or at least that is the official Olympic message. But if Dr. Ian Mccurdie, the British Olympic Associatio­n’s chief medical officer, gets his way, the city won’t be doing so by shaking hands with any of its visitors. Or if, as a very last resort, it is obliged by protocol to do so, he is keen that it immediatel­y washes its hands using the most stringent of antibacter­ial hygiene foams.

Mccurdie, you see, is not a fan of handshakes. Such is his antipathy, he has become the Luis Suarez of the medical profession: a man not prepared to shake on it.

Terrified of germs and the harm they can inflict on the vulnerable constituti­ons of highly trained athletes, he is advocating zero tolerance toward any gesture of politeness at the London Games that might involve bodily contact.

That sort of thing in the lead up to competitio­n, he believes, might create a transfer of germs that could upset delicate systems, putting our finest off their stride. In other words, shake hands with a dirty foreigner and our magnificen­t boys and girls might as well kiss a podium finish goodbye.

“I believe the greatest threat to performanc­e is illness,” explained Mccurdie. “At an Olympic Games or any major event, the performanc­e impact of becoming ill or even feeling ill can be significan­t. Essentiall­y we are talking about minimizing the risk of illness and optimizing resistance. It is all about hand hygiene.”

And that means keeping your mitts to yourself. Which is not easy in a sporting context.

As Suarez, the Uruguayan who plays soccer for Liverpool, discovered when he refused to shake hands with Patrice Evra, a French player for Manchester United, last month, the handshake is an integral part of our understand­ing of what it is to be sporting.

Its symbolic meaning is vital. Never mind how contrived it may seem, the moment footballer­s shake hands before a match or two boxers touch gloves tells the rest of us that they are engaged not in all- out war, but in gentlemanl­y contest, that they acknowledg­e a mutually observed set of guidelines.

The handshake is a mark of respect, a sign of shared endeavour, a device for communicat­ing reciprocal feeling. Surely not something that requires immediate recourse to the shower.

Sure, there are those who believe it has been ridiculous­ly over- fetishized by sport. After all, there may be absolutely no esteem between two handshakin­g parties; they may loathe each other and the display of enforced camaraderi­e could demonstrat­e mere hypocrisy.

Perhaps it is somewhat woozy thinking to imagine that simply brushing palms can paper over the cracks of competitio­n, as the FIFA president Sepp Blatter suggested when he insisted that racial slurs offered on a soccer pitch can be forgiven with a handshake.

But for most of the sporting world, the shake is part of the game. Cricketers shake before the toss, tennis players shake at the end of a gruelling five- setter, after spending 80 minutes attempting to separate opponents from their limbs, rugby players form a guard of honour to offer a friendly exchange of hands ( some of which are still attached to their original owners).

In fact, pop along to watch a junior soccer match this weekend and at the end, the fathers assembled on the touchline will, as one, utter the familiar cry “shake hands, boys.” It is as central a part of the Sunday morning ritual as, well, shaking hands at the sign of the peace is during Holy Communion.

Besides, if anyone has long been exposed to the health risks of the handshake, it should be sports people. In the lead up to the Games, Rebecca Adlington, Mo Farah, Chris Hoy, all the British team, will be confronted every day by dozens of people anxious to pass on their best wishes in the most familiar way: with a handshake. It is what we fans do the moment we encounter a sporting hero.

George Best, the late Manchester United star, reckoned that every day he shook at least 100 strangers by the hand.

And Best was not consumed by other people’s germs ( though it would have been a robust germ indeed to survive his interior).

Maybe, then, Mccurdie should have greater confidence in our sports heroes’ constituti­ons. It would be a sad thing if we were not able to shake the world firmly by the hand when it arrives on our doorstep this summer. So, let our athletes shake. Though they may be advised to hold back from the kiss on both cheeks — at least until the post- competitio­n party.

 ?? MAL FAIRCLOUGH/ REUTERS ?? Saudi Arabia’s Hassan Muath Fallatah ( left) shakes hands with Australia’s Harry Kewell after losing to Australia in their World Cup qualifier match. The gesture, while it may transfer germs, is a sign of respect.
MAL FAIRCLOUGH/ REUTERS Saudi Arabia’s Hassan Muath Fallatah ( left) shakes hands with Australia’s Harry Kewell after losing to Australia in their World Cup qualifier match. The gesture, while it may transfer germs, is a sign of respect.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada