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For
the third consecutive year, Hermann Maier has taken over the World Cup
well ahead of time. In skiing, more than in other disciplines, numbers,
seconds and hundredths have a great importance. However, the Austrian
champion does not even seem to have to resort to decimal fractions to
outdistance his opponents. The reason for this is embarrassing for the
sporting practice in which the St. Anton phenomenon reigns supreme.
There is not a minimum distance, but a gulf between “Herrminator” and
the rest of the “white circus”. For him this year the triplet involves
matching the record of another unperishing ski hero, the Swedish Ingemar
Stenmark. There seems to be only one way of beating him in the points
race, that is to change the rules. Indeed, the World Cup history is
full of eclectic champions. Only Tomba is left with just one trophy,
because he chose not to go and scrape up points in other disciplines,
except for Slalom and Giant Slalom. The penalising factor for the Italian
champion is in fact the feather in the Austrian giant’s cap. Maier is
the prototype of the multitalented champion, the bionic athlete who
some people have attempted to describe as a laboratory product, made
up with the aid of substances that need not be entirely lawful. It all
started before 1997, when Hermann, with the assistance of a trusted
doctor, decided it was time to do something to improve the situation
in terms of centimetres. Not hundredths but centimetres, which he acquired
just before the beginning of the agonistic season, thanks to a stiff
dose of muscle-building exercises. From one day to the next, as malicious
rumour has it, he changed from a failure into an unbeatable champion,
and grasped, as mentioned, three world cups, seven speciality titles,
two olympic titles in Nagano and two world titles in Vail. Setting aside
the comments, rumours and doubts about those muscles breaking out all
of a sudden, the fact is that, unless an alternative comes out quickly,
alpine ski racing runs the risk of being strangled by his overwhelming
superiority. The strength of the Austrian star mainly lies in his ability
to adapt his motory gestures to the various situations that the course
sets before him each time. Determination combined with extraordinary
effectiveness represent the successful strategy which also used to underlie
Tomba’s victories, and which now Maier applies more broadly, by extending
it also to downhill and supergiant racing. Whereas Italy’s Albertone
was the last exponent of a skiing culture which regarded slalom as the
pedigree of the real champion, the Austrian hero on the other hand represents
a new approach which increasingly combines speed and technique. However,
both champions seem to have, not one, but two weak points. From a technical
point of view, this is the obvious inability to sometimes husband the
extra muscular power, which ends up by overrunning the mechanism and
throwing the racer off the track. However, it is in an other field,
that is that of public relations, mainly on the domestic level, that
they would both need to substantially improve. For Maier, as for Tomba
in his time, it is not easy to live under the pressure exercised by
an entire nation. Recently, during the St. Anton’s world championship,
Hermann declared that he could not move without being surrounded by
about a thousand people, overwhelmed by his obligations towards the
sponsors and other pressing factors. So much so that, instead of having
the world championship in the place where he had been born (not only
as a sportsman) he wished it were held in New Zealand. Apart from this
first “gaffe” - which mother Genti tried to make up for by offering
herself as the daily biographer for her son’s extra-agonistic life -
Maier made a very bad gesture at the end of the Supergiant. The USA
Rahlves had just stolen the gold from his fellow countryman Eberharter,
who was also a teammate of his. And what was the reaction of the man
whom everybody in Austria looked on as the undisputed leader? He exulted,
embarrassingly clenching his fist at his rivals defeat. An absolutely
childish thing, which not even an extreme rivalry could justify. But
even more odd and funny was Tomba’s blunt comment in referring to this
incident: “He cannot be my successor, he’s unpleasant and irritating;
I wouldn’t have dreamt of making such a gesture...” The least you can
say when hearing these words spoken by somebody who was bold enough
to throw a cup at a photographer and who has stood trial for having
overtaken a tailback of cars with flashing lights and a signal stick,
taking advantage of his reputation as a jolly person, is: “Look who’s
talking!” (traduzione Interpres sas-Giussano)
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