Dave Riley
If you are among the 4 billion or so of this planet's occupants who hail from the Third World, a moment of fame can be yours if, by some extraordinary good fortune, you take part in the tournament we like to refer to as the Commonwealth Games.
While we would normally be asked to look upon you as a fascinating exotic, nothing delights us more than seeing foreign flesh stepping onto the rostrum to claim a trinket as first, second or third best in some sport that your country is apparently rather good at.
Come to our country to compete in such events and we'll think you are the cat's pyjamas. Too bloody right we will. We honour muscle regardless of colour when it puts on a show like that.
We're human too and if your body can run faster than another one, jump higher or what not, we will give credit where credit is due. That's what the Games are all about — celebrating excellence in sport.
So excuse us if we rely on the medal tally to assure ourselves that what we lose on the swings we gain on the roundabouts. Nice try ... but we make no apology for the fact that our team is better than your team and our country is, of course, the ant's pants. That's what the Games are all about, and especially now that Britannia is no longer in invasion mode. (Other than Iraq of course, but we're there too).
Empire is yesterday's news. Today we aim to get on, you know, with one another — despite our differences.
But that doesn't mean we want to live in each other's pockets. While we'll celebrate diversity, we'd prefer, if you don't mind, to keep such differences at arm's length. We celebrate your country, you celebrate ours. We don't mind what colour the back is we pat. But we'd prefer — well, we'd insist actually — that you stay where you are.
Don't get us wrong. We love it when you visit. That's what the Games are about. Your creme de la creme puts on a real good show and we appreciate, we really appreciate, you coming ... to our games. We'd be lost without your, what shall I say ... colour.
But when the Games are over and you go back home to your Third World — and we get on with our business of being Australian and you get on with yours of being, you know, whatever — don't ever think that it can be like that every other day.
It's nice to have the Third World in town for a visit. Real nice. We must do it again sometime. See you later. Our regards to those at home.
From Green Left Weekly, March 29, 2006.
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