From the desk of Roland Rocchiccioli – 22 August

We used to believe it mattered not whether you won or lost, but how you played the game. Certainly, it was the credo of my childhood.

SADLY, there has been a seismic attitudinal shift.

I hesitated when the Australian Olympic discus thrower, Matthew Denny, commented that first, second and third are fantastic, but “forth sucks!” I could not disagree more passionately. I am in awe of his capacity, regardless of his placing.

Once, when interviewing Olympic swimmer, Daniel Kowalski, I said, in jest, “Do you feel like a failure being number two in the world?” He laughed. We went on to discuss, at length, the concept of being so gifted; the best in the world at what you do – an impossible notion which boggles, absolutely, my powers of reasoning. It is too extraordinary to contemplate.

Winning is not all. ‘Tis better to have played and lost, than never to have played at all.

Unquestionably, the exaggerated emphasis on winning exacerbates the anguish of the child who lacks eye/hand/ball co-ordination; or is afraid of the water; is slightly plump, and always the last to be picked for a team, despite the irrepressible enthusiasm; and most importantly, lacks the confidence to participate.

Nene King, the former editor-in-chief of Woman’s Day and Women’s Weekly, and who now lives in Ballarat, was obsessed, totally, with winning. Nothing else mattered in her life. Eventually dubbed ‘the magazine Queen’, it took her four-years to achieve her feat, but achieve it she did! So great was her financial success, the late Kerry Packer referred to her as his ‘cash-cow’.

A dear, departed friend, Rosie Van Egmond, was exceedingly competitive. She played to win, regardless. As a student at St Catherine’s, Toorak, if she was coming second in a running race she would fall down. “I had no interest in coming second,” she said, unashamedly. In later life it became a joke!

As a child and a teenager, I enjoyed a degree of success at tennis. At boarding school, I played most days after school, and all weekend in one tournament, or another.

I recall a tennis tournament in Gwalia. There were about 20 children playing on the red, anthill courts of the State Hotel. When Beria learned I was playing against Michael Weston, she said, without hesitation, “Why don’t you let Michael win? The poor bugger, he doesn’t have anything. You’re always winning. Let him have a go. You don’t have to win all the time, you know.”  I accepted her suggestion with alacrity. I hit the ball into the net; long to the baseline; and wide into the tram lines. Michael’s joy was palpable. He had no inkling I played to let him win. Curiously, Beria said not a word to me about his victory, or about my willing to carry-out her scheme. For her, it was, simply, sharing the joy of participating. As I child, I shared without hesitation. It was what Beria expected. If I paused, she shot a telling look; an imperceptible nod to banish my fleeting selfishness.

Success is when preparation meets with opportunity. It is elusive. Winning comes at a price. It takes grit to scale the summit; to push-on through the barrier. To hold the dream. To test your ambition; to run the course; to stumble at the final hurdle. To battle the anguish; and to wipe away the tears of frustration. To try, time and again, to perfect the endeavour.

We watched the Olympic Games in awe. Inspired by their ability.

Triumph should not be measured in gold, silver, and bronze, however exhilarating it might be to win. The medal tally board should not determine success, or otherwise. The road leading to the destination is equally important.  Qatar’s, Mutaz-Essa Barshim, and Italy’s, Gianmarco Tamberi, are friends and competitors. They chose to share the high jump gold medal.

That is the real meaning and spirit of winning!

Roland can be heard with Brett Macdonald each Monday at 10.45am Radio 3BA and contacted via [email protected].