It is always too early to start losing and to give up. Both these eternal truths of sporting life were exhibited to perfection by Georgina Harland yesterday in the most beautiful absurdity of the Olympic Games, the modern pentathlon4.
Harland was last in the early stages of the first event, the shooting, but she clawed her way back through the disciplines to win the most extraordinary bronze of the Games.
Harlandfinished behind Zsuzsanna Voros5 , of Hungary, with Jelena Rublevs-ka6 , of Latvia. She finished the shoot in 30th position out of 32. And, to be accurate, it is not true that she can't shoot. Her final nine shots were respectable. She just started horribly cold, horribly nervous.
It all depends how these things take you: some people find an inner calm in tension, some find a rage, Harland finds the shakes7.
And be sure that if you have a weakness of technique or of temperament, the Olympic Games will find it out. That, in a way, is what the Games are for.
Harland brought her competitive nightmares to life. A row of nines and tens is what you aim for: Harland's opening 11 shots included a six, two fives and a three.
Bye-bye medal8. Or so it seemed; for that was reckoning without Harland's massive powers of recuperation, her refusal to take mere failure as an answer.
It is not as if things started going right for Harland as soon as she had shaken off the dawn yips9 .
In the fencing, the next event, she finished twelfth, with 16 victories to 15 de-feats in a format in which every athlete fights every other for one hit.
She went on to a great swim , but it was not a thing that you gave a great deal of thought to back then , just glad that the poor thing had salvaged a bit of consolation from the wreckage of an Olympic adventure10.
Baron De Coubertin's" gallant12 Napoleonic and now unquestionably female soldier, supposedly trapped behind enemy lines, had already shot her enemies to bits13 with a pistol , duelled with scores of them with her sword andswum a river.
Now she must take a strange horse and ride it, as a prelude14 to the final event when she has nothing left but her own legs to run on.
A strange mixture of disciplines, indeed. And yet they merge in an astonishingly pleasing way, mixing, in sequence, serenity, speed, power, sympathy and endurance. Noble virtues indeed.
Harland got an altogether less grudging15 individual and rode him very sweet¬ly. So, by the time the run started, she had lifted herself up to fourteenth. But, I thought at the time, so what?
In the run, the results from the previous four disciplines are computed into minutes and seconds; the leader starts first, the rest set off in pursuit at their al¬lotted16 time.
Harland was 1 min 31 sec behind Voros but only 49 seconds behind the third. And yet Harland set off with the rage of disappointment to inspire her. And as the three kilometres unwound17 , Harland began to pass runner after runner.
Serenity is not her long suit18, no. But when it came to power, to sympathy and finally to endurance-to the great and glorious quality of ungiveupability19-she showed us her kind of greatness.
She did not show much of a winner's temperament, but she showed that she is seriously good at not losing. If a bronze can ever be called great, this was a great bronze.