研究生英语泛读翻译第九单元.doc

A place of legends: the Olympic Games proves its capacity for greatness again Simon Barnes in Beijing There are three ways of enjoying sport, and they form a hierarchy. The three categories can mingle and merge, any two together or all three at once. But they still form three easily separated categories and there is no question as to which is the highest. I have spent the past 16 days in remorseless, painstaking and thrilling search for the sport of the third kind, and I encountered it on at least four occasions. The lowest of these categories is partisanship: us lot beating them lot, our bloke beating their bloke - and its the most wonderful fun, especially when you win. Partisanship is the bread and butter of the sports industry: loyalty, identification, cheering for your team, your man, feeling absurdly glad when you win and suffering the most ridiculous pain when you lose. One world, one dream, and that dream is to beat the crap out of everybody else. Partisanship is Tim Henman at Wimbledon: agonising desperation for a mere result, glorious and painful to experience because of the extreme identification of audience and athlete. This has been a great Games for British partisanship, but I havent been around many British medals. I managed only a single gold and that was more by luck than judgment. I had gone to the Water Cube for quite other reasons when I watched the superb Rebecca Adlington win her first gold medal, in the 400 metres freestyle. It was the first British swimming gold for women for 48 years and it was a moment to savour. The middle category is drama. Drama effortlessly sheds the chains of partisanship. In Wimbledon terms, this was the Goran Ivanisevic final, in which Ivanisevic kept double faulting on match point, kissing tennis balls, calling to the heavens and, eventually, won. It was an amazing match, but sport can still do better than this. The mens super-heavyweight weightlifting supplies drama at every Olympic Games and the event is a real fa