Telling the time is a really easy skill to learn

Imust have been about five years old when my parents taught me to tie my own shoelaces. They also taught me to tell time. It’s a crucial skill, being able to tell what time it is. Fortunately for most of us, it’s not a difficult skill to learn.

Once we’ve grasped it, timing becomes crucial. We use it all day, every day.

Without it, the day wouldn’t even exist. We’d all just wonder about hoping to bump into each other at random intervals, watching the sun rise and set with no linear meaning.

Without time, we would have no reference for the start of anything. We would have no idea when anything would end.

We would also have no form of measurement in the most popu- lar of Olympic sports. We’d have no reference for comparison, and we’d be left to watch a group of people splashing about and running in circles. It would all be a bit pointless.

Fortunately, by the start of our primary school careers, most of us can tell time.

Two years ago, in the build-up to the Rio Olympics, Wayde van Niekerk stunned the world with a season-opening sub-44 second effort over 400m at the SA Open Championships in Bloemfontein, but the hype faded somewhat when it was revealed the electronic clock in the stadium had been attached to a hand-timing device and his official time was 44.11.

Last year, again at the Free State Stadium, Ruan de Vries clocked 13.23 in the men’s 110m hurdles, with the 31-year-old athlete shattering @wesbotton his personal best by 0.36 to set a new national record.

It took officials some time to admit they had flopped on that one, and ultimately the company that calibrated the timing system was blamed for the error.

At the inaugural CitySurfRun later last year, it initially seemed Ugandan athlete Julius Cheptegei had become only the second man to dip under 27 minutes over 10km on the road.

His official time was later adjusted by around half-a-minute, and an historic effort by international standards turned out to be “just” an SA Open best of 27:29. A great performance, no doubt, but nowhere near the magnitude initially suggested by the clock on the finish line.

This week, at the final leg of the Athletix Grand Prix, the clock was again faulty, and while technicians were fiddling with it, spectators were forced to rely on the clock on the big screen, which was roughly four seconds out. That’s a lifetime in some track races.

According to the electronic clock, which again seemed to be connected to a hand-timing device, three national records were set. In reality, once official times were signed off, it was revealed that none had been achieved.

Aside from the confusion it causes, timing errors at local athletics meetings and races leave a question mark hovering above track and field performances in SA. If we can’t get the timing right, what else are we doing wrong?

There is no more crucial aspect in some sports, particularly in the era of social media which requires information at live events to be both rapid and correct.

And it’s standard at international events for the stadium clock to be up to 0.02 out. That’s acceptable.

But it’s becoming the norm for local officials to sweep aside the importance of timing. That’s not acceptable.

Fortunately, for most of us, basic skills like tying shoelaces and telling time are not difficult to learn.

Unfortunately most of us are not athletics officials.