The Djokovic case is not the first when politics interferes with sport. A while ago, without much bothering me, other famous examples came to mind.
The 1936 Berlin Olympics, for example. Olympics organized by Nazi Germany. An opportunity to glorify the tyrannical state in front of a hypnotic ecstatic people. The moment Lenny Riefenstahl sang one of her most controversial poems of praise for the state and for giant and collective rights, the Aryan body, and symbolic violence, it quickly became physical violence.
But even the moment Jesse Owens (pictured below) dares to come from the States, no! , I’m also afraid to mention his race and the color of his body, lest the Nazis shut him off from political correctness today, they dared to win everything, even over the illustrious Aryans, and faced the giant on the podium.
He dared, but he dared in vain, because you do not know the whole story. You only know the right part, which is when he laughed Hitler’s nose. Well, after he became a great hero, America dealt with Owens. We laugh, we joke, you’re a hero, you joke about Hitler, but you see that you still have a certain skin tone, wild, heroes, wild.
As a result, in the hotel in New York, they forced him to enter through the back door, where the servants of color entered at that time, and they were not allowed to enter the front door. The president of America treated him with racism, did not want to meet him, and did not affect his popularity in front of a predominantly racist audience.
Do you like history you should kind of read, and find out how history becomes present.
Also in the Olympics, later, in 1968, the year of maximum hippies, also some athletes of a certain skin color, glorified to be our stupid, gullible, local arbiter of football who doesn’t know that just saying color means demonizing the public and need Mandatory for autodafé, you know, that color in the light intensity spectrum at the other end of white, very dark, how can I tell you my understanding, very, very dark gray, I can say its name, I’m not allowed, well, in the 1968 Olympics, Some very dark gray-skinned athletes climbed onto the podium, being skilled athletes and defeating everything that got in their way. Awakening on the platform, they boldly raised their fists to the sky, like beasts, like extremely dark gray leopards. In the name of Tefelism in those days, challenging conventions and gaining their place in the controversial political rights arrangement.
Do you like history it’s a pity you do not read.
At the Olympic Games, too, in 1980, politics again broke into sports. Good Americans, some Democrats, and some neat people, what do you think? To turn sports into an ideological club. They formed an alliance with other countries and persuaded them not to participate in the 1980 Olympics, which were held in Moscow, the capital of the then ideological enemy, the Soviet Union. sports? Try it. Politics is more important than sports.
There was a big scandal, a big shock. The sport suffered greatly. We, a small but prosperous country, had something to gain in return. The large number of medals we won at that time was due to the special efforts of our athletes, and the fact that a large part of the “free world” abstained from the Olympics.
Do you like history drink slowly, because it contains politics.
Wait, I’m not done. History never ends. Immediately after the 1984 Olympics, which were held on the other side of the Iron Curtain, at the other ideological leaders, in the Americans, in Los Angeles, this time the communist Soviet bloc said step by step. Did not want to come. Didn’t you come to us then, damn you, we won’t come to you either. We stay at home and drink vodka.
what do you see? We were the only ones from the opposing ideological bloc who dared go to the Americans, to compete for territory with the imperialist bastards. It was bad for sports. And that was good for us. And signed into the medal records, because of this political situation. Obviously, I also had legendary athletes, who are not such tender breasts from now on. But we also had a very narrow gap in historical opportunities that we slipped through like a weasel. It was good, not bad. But it was clearly bad for the sport.
Wait, I’m not done. Likewise, from memory, without forcing myself.
At that time, in the 1980s, there was a harsh but severe boycott of the apartheid regime in South Africa. Part of this international pressure was the fact that South African rugby teams were banned from playing with their “Free World” teammates. Including the famous South African rugby team, especially at the national level, among the best in the world, then as well as now. The Boks News, glorified their name of perfect snobs, because they no longer play anyone’s rugby.
Then politics trampled on sports. what do you see? Like these days, when Djokovic slapped the Nazis on the cheeks of Australians, then there were rebels flirting with rules, holdouts, officials, fascists, and political correctness.
New Zealand rugby players, other perfections, and other arrogant ones, the Boksks’ main symbolic opponents, provided necessary arrogance. Are we not allowed to play with Pokoy, even though they eat us badly to carry on our tradition of annual matches with them? Damn your politics. We still do it. They took off their official insignia, and traveled as such, on a whim, and more clandestinely in South Africa, without knowing much about their national federation. They faced the boycott and played alongside South Africa.
A national team without the official emblem of that country. But the shirts were still black, because they were all black, actually. Which is why the All Blacks tell them they have black shirts everywhere. Some monsters, some primitives, some medieval monsters. So, a black team in a shorts played with a team that did not receive any blacks in their ranks – that’s not what I said, I said that forbidden word. black, black, black. Unfortunately, what a shame.
The scandal broke out again. These little blacks from New Zealand rolled well. The world, as usual, was divided into two irreconcilable camps, condensed in the head and for life. Some praised the rebels. Unfortunately, to what extent they succeeded, the sport won, and rugby does not have to know politics. Others shook in the sky. Alas, what harm they have caused, they have ridiculed any principle of human rights. They have legitimized through their irresponsible behavior a criminal system that divides people into persons and some of whom should not be recognized as persons.
This team came to be said in rugby history The New Zealand Cavaliers. This means irresponsible knights and knights. Because that’s what the Knights were like: a kind of fairy.
I was telling you to read history. Not so you can prevent bastards from going into this world. This is not possible, no matter how hard you try. But simply to suffer knowingly, with a sad smile on your face. He who does not know history is doomed to repeat it. Who knows, he is doomed to the same odious fate of watching the hordes that do not know history and helplessly repeat history.
Okay. Wait, I’m not done.
Also in rugby, also with South Africa, right after that. It was already done in 1995. Apertheid canceled. Nelson Mandela was released from prison. From the national hero he became a national, international and world champion. He became a head of state on the brink of civil war. Big scandal, iureș, secretly sharp swords. How do we calm the crazy?
Also through rugby, because those in South Africa think only of that, my dears: just rugby. Just rugby.
The 1995 Rugby World Cup was one of the most symbolic events in our contemporary history. A legendary event in which politics inevitably overlapped with sports once again. This time not in the contested way like the others I’ve told you about. This time it was good. this time Benelli beats.
At that time, the prize South Africa received from the international community for leaving apartheid was, among other things, the right to organize for the first time, after many years of such extreme isolation, a huge sporting event. In this case, the Rugby World Championship.
Not only did they organize it, but they also won it with great fanfare. That’s right, some mischievous mouths say that with a little laxative help they crept into the food of their eternal rivals, all-black New Zealanders. This is how gossip works.
Let’s not be bad. Bockers played tremendously. In order not to give him another chance to gossip and not criticize the rest of the “free world”, they also added a black seed to the team, winger Chester Williams, who came to train in Romania a few years ago. Before. distance. But the rest are white, Afrikaans, descendants of Dutch settlers by blood, tall, blond, and Aryan.
Skin color does not matter. It is important how well they played rugby. They played brilliantly. They overcame everything, and reached the final. In the final, they inevitably met the All Blacks, a perfect team beast, with, among many other legendary names, the first marketed rugby star, the incomparable Jonah Lomo, may God have mercy on him.
They got it in vain. Stransky’s diamond ice covered the shiny All Blacks area. The robots won — perhaps with a little diuretic help. Captain Francois Pienaar, No. 6, received the trophy from the hands of Nelson Mandela, who was wearing the No. Six jersey.
It was great. It was a dream. It was like a fairy tale. It was the culmination of a skillfully and tenaciously managed political effort, bolstered by tireless marketing. win over. T-shirt. Mandela. picture. Number six. One of the enemies, black and white, shook hands with a rainbow and pacified an entire country. Tribune in ecstasy. The world is in ecstasy.
It was severe. It is one of the most famous images in sports and politics. They also made a movie after this memorable event.
God loves rugby. God, I love telling you about rugby. God loves history. Oh God, how I would love to tell you about history knowing that you would not take into account any of its teachings.
Come on, keep up with Djokovic. Like me. Or be against Djokovic. So, like the others. Come, let politics taint sport, and turn it into something else, into an uproar, into an arena. To have sporty handles, to use as an advertising tool.
Did I mention that All Blacks wear black, that color we’re not allowed to tell? Did I tell you Lomo was cool? Did I tell you that it was wonderful in vain that Stransky transformed everything that could turn out to be the legendary final of 1995?
Did I tell you that rugby is the most perfect sport in this world full of more than perfect sports?
That’s it, I’ll stop. Let’s leave rugby, let’s go back to the foolish relationship between sports and politics.
Don’t be thin. Politics is inevitable. Politics is involved in everything. Wherever there is power, there is already politics. And in sports, and in art, and in bakeries, and in coffee, and in fashion, and in the manner of laying a nappy on a child.
Politics is everywhere. When you learn this painful lesson, with a little wisdom, with a little stoicism, you will bear all the twists and turns of this world full of twists, injustice, corruption, stupid nonsense and villains.
Did I tell you how many articles Lomo gave in the match with the English? Did I tell you how the English insulted their arrogant imperialists? Did I tell you that even that wonderful moment is full of politics? Mom, how she put her hands on Joscott’s mouth. Mom, what a stamp stamp on Dallaglio. Fabulous…
I didn’t tell you. I don’t even tell you. Anyway, I tell you in vain.
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