The Olympic Games, where hard working cyclist Curuchet finally saw glimmering gold

     Juan Esteban Curuchet is a young-old bike magician who, at 43 years of age, has an olympic gold medal hanging happily from his sinuous neck. He is shouting inside whispers of sheer joy and amazement at his deed, achieved alongside fellow Argentine Walter Pérez. For years Juan had been dreaming of this moment, but had practically given way to fate, destiny or age. At 43 a gold medal at the Olympic games in China? Who would have imagined such a feat?

      You can think what you want to about these games, but situations like this burst ideologies and stereotypes and backslapping and charges of this and charges of that: in the background, merging to the foreground are men and women from all over the world displaying their love for their sport, the exuberance of their bodies and the patience that has embued them and carried them to feats of unexpected achievement.

    Juan had tried in the Los Angeles Olympic games of 1984 (fifth place), then again in South Korea 1988 (fifth place), still again in Atlanta 1996 (16th) and in Sidney 2000 (nineth). Wasn’t it time to give up? NO! He said and decided to go for the medal, for the last time before retirement in the Beijing games. At first it didn’t seem his dream would come true. But at least he was giving it all he could.

    Then, somehow, who knows how, a spark seemed to light inside him and in his brain a message seemed to ring, saying: "you can do it! You can do it." And he did it. The final stretch was a neck to neck race with Spain. It was a beautiful sight. The body enmeshed with the bycycle, as if it were one, like a gaucho merged with his horse. A sprint here, a sprint there. You could almost hear the breathing as the wheels burned down the pavement.

    Victory came, almost unexpectedly, almost as a surprise, but as the result of long years of dedication and believe in the impossible. There they were, Curuchet and Pérez, their bikes together, weaving and waving in the midst of the victory celebration. Alongside the light blue and white Argentine flags waving...and then the loud speakers booming out the Argentine national anthem...Juan’s hands covered the tears rolling down his face with his hands when he stepped forward to receive the sparkling gold medal: his tears only ceased to the tune of his country’s national anthem.