By Roberto Vega Andersen
The Olympic Games in Paris are the focus of media interest at the time of writing these lines. More than fourteen thousand athletes and a constellation of satellites that brings together technicians and other assistants, referees, managers, security guards, personnel for the most diverse functions, journalists, photographers, politicians, an enormous legion of spectators and more security -much more-, attentive to the serious risk that France has assumed in a historical situation full of conflicts.
Such a spectacle is the ideal stage for the most varied protests, and France knows it. Even so, and in the face of the greatest precautions, just days before the start of the competitions, a young Australian woman reported a gang rape in Montmartre, steps from the Mouline Rouge. An episode that triggers the most diverse judgments about the security ring that surrounds the City of Light.
I am writing this editorial by recalling with humor my beginnings in athletics as a child, a village passion matured on a dirt track and intense daily training. Those competitions fueled the enthusiasm of the entire community, there was no money at stake, the image of a country was not mortgaged on a result. It was just sport, and it was enjoyed with successes and defeats. From a distance I imagine that it was the same amateur spirit that inspired Baron de Coubertin to struggle for years until March 24, 1896, when King George of Greece pronounced those unforgettable words: "I declare open the First International Olympic Games of Athens."
Putting both facts on the same level reminds me of the lyrics of that chacarera that proclaims “Casas más, casas menos, igual a mi Santiago”, placing on the same level the cosmopolitan New York and Buenos Aires, with the provincial homeland, or the rivers of Santiago, the Dulce and the Salado, with the Euphrates and the Tigris, or Marilyn Monroe with “my Juana”, who lives near Mailín…
May Pierre de Coubertin’s dream strengthen the bonds of brotherhood and hope.
