Chapter 2*
Athens,
Capital City of
the Olympic Games 2004
GREECE, SUMMER OF 2004
Welcome to the capital of the XXVIII
Olympic Games!
After 108 years, the Hellenic republic
is once again the host of the most important sport games in the world. Every
Athenian is very attentive on the details settled by the government to serve
all the international guests.
In
the Olympic Village, the organizers are having little setbacks to finish the
last details for the welcome. Some of the stadiums are about to be finished and
the competitions start in a few days. There is an atmosphere full of
expectations, joyful but tense feeling in all the corners of the Hellenic city,
together with the superhuman efforts put in having everything ready for the inaugural
day.
There
is around Athens an air of encountered feelings of glory, enthusiasm, and
stress. People of all ages follow the events, mindful of the opening ceremony.
Businessmen, storekeepers, restaurateurs, and sellers wait anxiously the
beginning of the celebration to start their labor of providing services to the
millions of tourists who are starting to crowd the city.
Banners and sing with the inscription “υποδοχή
πάλι στο σπίτ” (“Welcome home again!”) are spread through Athens. Despite the
summer heat, wind gusts coming through the coast refresh its inhabitants and
wave briskly the flags of Greece with the welcome message on them.
In
this euphoria, three days before the opening ceremony that will take place in
the Olympic stadium, Athens is the most vibrant and cosmopolitan city, completely
crowded. Tourist, sportsmen, millionaires, politicians, celebrities from the
show business and art coincide in one activity: The Olympic Games Greece 2004.
At
the airport “Eleftherios Venizelos”, a chaos of people tries to organize
themselves at the customs box-offices. It can be appreciate a huge diversity of
contrasts and tourist that arrive from all parts of the world to this amazing
celebration with the highest level sport. The different nations, represented by
their corresponding sporty delegations arrive to the welcome platform, dressed
up with their different and impeccable uniforms dyed with the autochthone
colors corresponding to each country. Everybody looked busy while picking their
baggage along the customs anteroom.
The triathlon team this year is
formed by a great diversity of participant from all around the world. All of
them where tested in elimination competitions each time more demanding, product
of a rigorous training of years and even decades to see their dreams
crystalized in this event.
The American delegation in the most
numerous of all; among their competitors it is John Sueseht, accompanied by his
best friend, Paul Ootirip, from the Canadian delegation. Although they compete
in different delegations, they are friends from childhood and both of them
represent one of the most viewed disciplines nowadays, triathlon. Their only
goal is winning and to have fun in the biggest competition, Vouliagmeni.
Different
from the rest of their respective delegations, John and Paul decided to rent a
car when they arrived at the airport, so they could drive to the Titania Hotel,
in downtown of the city, where they had already booked a luxurious suite that
had also been confirmed by Miss Amy, the efficient secretary of Mr. Sueseht
Dukatris, John’s father.
While
they were waiting to check in, Grigoriadis Poimenidis approached to them, he
was a cheerful and informal Greek and touristic guide who attracted tourist
with all kind of stories to impress and enroll them in one of his schedule
visits.
“Good
morning! I see you are Olympic champions” –said Poimenidis in a flattering tone,
trying to be ice-breaker.
“Not
yet,” –answered Paul, “but we’ll be soon.”
“What
noble discipline do you two represent?” Poimenidis continued to empathize with
them.
“Paul,
don’t waste time. We need to pick the keys of the suite.” –exclaimed John,
without taking into account the speaker.
Grigoriadis
Poimenidis spoke first:
“You
must be a great marathoner. According to the tradition, this honorable sport
started in the well-known homonymous city. Its origin goes back to the story of
Plutarch about Pheidippides, an Athenian soldier who ran barefoot over the plain
of Marathon from the south to the city of Athens to announce the victory of the
Athenians over the Persians during the Greco-Persian wars, in the year 490 B.C.
He ran a distance of about 42 kilometers, although according to some authors,
it was of 40.8. When this hero arrived to the city, he yelled: “Νενικήκαμεν!” (We have won),
he felt exhausted and died at that very moment.”
Paul
got interested in the story; John interrupted him:
“Dude,
at any other moment we hear your story; but now, we must check in.”
Poimenidis
signed the big line they have in front.
“Don’t
worry, we are in Greece. The line is huge. There is always time for talking,
and if you’re lucky, I could find someone who could help you.”
Paul
looked at John, and agreed saying:
“In
that case you may continue and do not forget your promise of avoiding us to
stand this line.”
Poimenidis
picked up the thread of his story with the same passion he used to put on this:
“Another
version says that Pheidippides dies after running three times in a row the path
between Athens and Marathon, which is probably the reason of another
discipline: the triathlon. The first journey was to Athens to call for
reinforcements. The second trip was to the battle field, with the message that
the troops would go whenever they were ready. The third and lethal path, when
he arrived to Marathon and discovered that the battle had been won, he was sent
to stop the Athenian army before they departed; that was when he died. The
thing is that thanks to Pheidippides, all the women and their descendants did
not die, since all of these have sworn they will commit suicide before being
captured by the Persians and it was thanks to Pheidippides they knew about
their victory. It was not necessary they keep their word anymore. This permits
their progeny reached our days.”
Paul
finished the story:
“Okay!
You’re hired! We’ll meet you tomorrow at the lobby for a sightseeing tour.”
*Translation SP>En. Novel Thyke by Frank Cogun.
