Daily Times

Two weeks into the Paris Olympics, China is leading the medals table, having scored gold 22 times already. The mighty US is close behind with 21, unwilling to give up on the glory long after the Cold War has ended. In our part of the world, however, all hopes rest with a 27-year-old javelin thrower, Arshad Nadeem, who, on Tuesday, stood out of the seven-member contingent. All others have already bowed out. A solid 86.59-metre throw reestablished his mettle in front of players from across the world.

His path to the Olympics is a truly inspiring narrative and needs no introduction. Having realised early on in the game that failure was not an option, Nadeem has surmounted numerous hurdles to reach the global stage. May it be stepping out of his modest setting in a small village, his humble malleability to make do with what he has in terms of training equipment or an unwavering determination to give his nation a few moments of fleeting euphoria, he knows how to deliver. Quite expectedly, his technique, precision, and unwavering focus earned accolades from critics and fans alike, showcasing his exceptional skill and resolve on the grandest stage of them all.

However, can a 240-million-strong nation really rely on the personal crusade of one young man to compensate for decades of neglect and institutional breakdown? To pray for the gold and subsequent glory to head back home is one thing but to expect sheer grit to perform against athletes whose countries own them as their most precious assets, supporting them in every manner possible so that they can solely focus on their training is, for the lack of a better word, unfair.

Even if the Olympic gold medal appears tantalizingly within reach, would anything change for Nadeem if he manages to script history for Pakistan? His unyielding dedication, hard work, and innate talent have brought him to this defining moment, but no matter how grandly he performs, he would have to return to the same rustic gym; a measly support from patrons and little to no training equipment. At a time when his competitors are free to spend a fortune acclimatising themselves to their competition conditions, he not only needs to fight a battle on the ground but also deal with a cumbersome bureaucracy, resistant society, and an indifferent audience. Some miracle may illuminate the future of sports in Pakistan (at some point), but unfortunately, right now, it’s bleak at best. *