Here’s a thing I often wondered about sports. If a competitor is caught using some drug to enhance his performance, he’ll be suspended or kicked out completely because he tried to gain an unfair advantage over the other competitors, and on the face of it, that seems perfectly logical. Yet, there’s apparently no concern about the fact that one athlete can afford to go and live in the mountains of Peru for a year, while another can barely afford the bus fare to his rickety, rat-infested gym. Is that not also an unfair advantage?
What’s the difference between using EPO to increase your red blood cell count and spending a year at high altitude to achieve the same thing? What about if you can afford a hypobaric chamber — does that give you an unfair advantage over someone who doesn’t have the money?
Maybe I should get it, but I don’t.
It’s not that I think performance-enhancing drugs should be permitted. What I’m asking is why athletes who can afford other expensive methods don’t attract the same criticism. But more to the point, what about athletes who rely on a special relationship with an invisible space-hippie — a relationship not available to all competitors?
I refer, of course, to Jesus, who has started to show an unhealthy and deeply unchristian interest in helping some athletes at the expense of others. Jesus has his favourites, and they’re the ones he pushes over the line at the Olympics.
Wouldn’t you imagine that Jesus has more important things on his mind, such as ending famine or putting an end to war? But no. Jesus, apparently, spends a good chunk of his valuable time covertly influencing the results of marathons and boxing matches.
What’s that all about? A space-hippie with super powers who chooses to interfere in every event by helping his friends to hit harder, run faster or jump higher. If you’re a boxer, Jesus is right there with you, giving your fist a little nudge at just the right moment. Take that, other guy! If you’re a sprinter, Jesus is jogging beside you, with his hand on your back, pushing you along and if you happen to be a high jumper, Jesus is invisibly boosting you those vital few inches above all the other competitors that he hates. He even fixes punctures.
It’s one thing for an athlete to be using growth hormones, but something else again to be helped by an invisible, all-powerful zombie. If this goes on, Jesus will have placed his people in all the medal categories and it’s only a matter of time before they take over the International Olympics Committee. What then? A whole raft of new events, like whipping the money changers from the Temple, synchronised transsubstantiation, the 50 km water-walk and rhythmic dead-raising. Casting demons out of high jumpers. Long-distance leper-healing.
It’s religious doping on an epic scale. It needs to be stamped out and while I don’t know if there’s a test for this kind of activity, I think one should be developed urgently, although in reality the chances are slim. It’s looking like a worldwide trend. After all, where are the next Olympics?
Yep. Rio de Janeiro.