Be Very Proud

Your heart is frantically trying to pump blood to your body at a rate of
over 200 beats per minute. Oxygen demand and oxygen supply are at
dramatic discrepancy. Your lungs are about to explode as they fight for
every little molecule of O2 in the barely available air. Metabolic
breakdown stops with the glycolitic chain: there is no oxygen for the
Kreb's Cycle to occur. This of course causes for a ridiculous buildup of
lactic acid in your muscles sending them into an ocean of pain. Your
body is about to shut down. You have a few more seconds before the
inevitable collapse. No, it's not the gas chamber: it's the 100 meter
dash! The crown jewel discipline of what we in Europe call " Track and
Field - The Queen of Sports". Across the ocean, no one gets more respect
than the fastest human. For the precious few years of dominance, he is
the most celebrated athlete in the world ( USA excluded?! ). Mark
Mcgwire? He'd be more popular in Europe if he was playing the washboard
for a Romanian zydeco band. John Ellway? Yeah, they know who he is: in
all of the American Army bases, anyway. When it comes to the world
champion in the 100 meters, though, even the little children in Slovenia
will tell you his name, birthplace, and best time. His movements and
words are recorded, replayed and analyzed on a daily basis. Heck, he
can't even close his bathroom door because of all the cameras and
microphones. Every each year Mobil Grand Prix takes place in Europe:
it's the equivalent of an NBA or an NFL season. Only the most amazing
track and field athletes participate and the events take place in the
most beautiful and rich cities in Europe. The entire continent watches
as records fall and millions of dollars are being made. In case
somebody doubts it, I can guarantee you that the fastest human is a very
very rich man, despite the amusing lack of attention in his own country.
I saw him run in Lawrence just a few months ago. He was shorter and
smaller then the rest of the runners. Yet, his presence was enormous. It
got unnaturally quiet just before the dash. You could actually hear
somebody drop a pin...in Nebraska! Then he just took off: the way only
he can. Very low to the track. Very powerful. The last to raise his
upper body, as his fantastic legs keep pounding the ground and pump
mercilessly like those pistons they make in Stuttgart. For a second or
two it felt as he wasn't really moving but was manipulating the space in
front of him , twisting it and warping it to his liking. His opponents
appeared frozen as they actually ran like the wind! Right at this moment
there were about two thousand people in Anschultz Pavilion and
approximately 10 million goose bumps. I find no reason to forget this
experience for the rest of my life. Roy Williams watched close by. He
was shaking his head. I saw his eyes: he is not forgetting either! Speed
is not acquired. Muscle mass, lung capacity, and technique amount for
10% of it. Uniquely fast sequence of electrical currents in the cortex
of the brain is responsible for the best performances in sprint. In
other words : you are born with it! It's a gift! Sprinters are different
from the rest of us. They are radical exceptions. They are not born
equal. They are exclusive and should be treasured! Well, twenty
something years ago Nature or God (don't want to mess with the Kansas
Board of Education) decided that such person should be born in Kansas
City. I've been here for a long time but managed to stay in touch with
my roots, since I have been an NBA, NFL analyst and an American events
correspondent for the Bulgarian national TV for the last nine years. Do
you know what they call him in Bulgaria and the European media? They
call him "The Wizard from Kansas". Why don't you lift your head, and be
proud, be very proud, Kansas City, with your own son, the fastest man in
the world: Maurice Greene!!!