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International Scene
By Raymond Canon
THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1993. PAGE 5.
Arthur Black
Bound like
an ostrich,
run like
a deer, eh?
Are you a sports fan?
I'm a semi-fan, I guess. I don't much care
who's in front in the National League West
(Hell, I don't know which teams are even in
the National League West) — but I kind of
like the characters that professional sport
throws up every once in a while.
Canada's provided its share of sports
characters: sprinter Harry Herome, swimmer
Victor Davis, hockey clown Eddie Shack.
Then there are the legendary characters
who transcend borders. Tennis brats John
McEnroe and Jimmy Connors...Golf loons
like Chi Chi Rodriguez...Not to mention
Vince Lombardi, Casey Stengel, Yogi Berra.
Even the owners of sports franchises
sometimes make it in the Great Characters
Hall of Fame. Toronto Maple Leaf fans will
not soon forget — or forgive — what a gross
buffoon named Harold Ballard did to their
team.
And then there's George Steinbrenner —
the New York Yankees' answer to Harold
Ballard.
But they're all going to have to shift over
and make room for a newcomer. It won't be
long before the sports world will be abuzz
What's in
a name?
Most of us manage to make our name do a
life-time but there are enough exceptions to
this to make for some very interesting
reading. I must confess that there have been
times when I wished that I had any other
name than the one I did. When I came to
Canada as a boy, one of the things I had to
put up with on the part of the dirty, rotten
Canadian kids with whom I came in contact,
was the incessant making fun of my name.
Confusing it with the double n spelling,
these kids thought up every permutation
possible to torment me and frequently
succeeded.
In later years I had a bit of sympathy for a
man by the name of Joseph Dzhugeshvili.
He wanted very much to be leader of his
country but one of the things that disturbed
him was how difficult people would fmd it
to pronounce his name. Somehow he could
not imagine them standing in a square
shouting out ''Long Live Dzhugeshvili."
Before he even got to that stage, he decided
to change his last name into something that
would not only be easier to pronounce but
would mean something in the eyes of his
followers. Thus Dzhugeshvili became
"Stalin - literally "man of steel" and, as
anybody who has read their history knows,
he was the person who took over the Soviet
Union when the first leader, Vladimir Lenin,
died.
You may wonder just where a man would
come from to have a long name like that.
Now that you have asked, I can tell you that
he came from that part of the Soviet Union
that we know today as Georgia. Georgians
have a penchant for long names, it seems,
with the doings and sayings of Ma Junren.
Ma Junren?
You read right. It's an odd name, but you
might as well get used to it, because come
the 1996 Olympics, chances are Ma Junren's
name will be on the front page, never mind
the sports page.
Ma is a sports coach in Liaoning Province
which is way out in the boondocks of
northeastern China. He coaches a team of
female runners there and chances are
exceedingly good that nobody would ever
have heard of Ma Junren in Beijing much
less in Canada, except for one small thing.
Ma's girls keep winning races.
And not just winning — blowing them wide
open.
Just last month one of Ma's runners by the
name of Wang Junxia broke the world
record for women in the 10,000 metre run.
Mostly when records topple, they are shaved
by only 10ths or even 100ths of a second.
Wang Junxia sliced an incredible 42
seconds off the record. The same week,
another Liaoning team member set a world
record in the women's 1500 meter race, and
a half second behind her was Wang Junxia.
How come? China's never been a
powerhouse in world sport outside of ping
pong. Why the sudden surge? Suspicious
outsiders are beginning to whisper the
dreaded s-word that blindsided Ben
Johnson's sprinting career.
But they want to be very careful talking
about steroids around coach Ma. He doesn't
take kindly to such talk.
since one of Stalin's best friends was
someone by the name of Orzhonikidje. He
never had to change his name but Stalin did
name a large warship after him, a very large
warship so that they could get the whole
name on it.
At any rate Stalin never had any trouble
from then on with people remembering his
name or pronouncing it either. You could
say "Long Live Stalin" without choking on
the name.
But then Stalin was not the only man to go
down in history who changed a long name
into a short one. There was once an Austrian
named Adolf Schildgruber whose name was
a bit of a problem even for German speaking
people who are used to long names with
umlauts and plenty of consonants. You can
imagine that the Austrians and the Germans
would have a bad time getting "Heil
Schicklgruber" out with any degree of
consistency and so Adolf decided to follow
Stalin's example and shorten it to Hitler. The
rest, as they say, is history.
There is another bit of irony in all this.
Stalin and Hitler turned out to be two of the
most feared men of our century but neither
was a native of the country that they ended
up leading. Georgians do not even speak a
Russian dialect; they have a completely
separate language. Austrians do speak
German but with an accent that the Germans
frequently make fun of as they do Swiss
German. Can you imagine someone from,
say, Louisiana or any other place in the deep
south coming to Canada and leading the
country? Hardly, but stranger things have
happened.
I can report that the Americans are in for a
bit of trouble these days as they witness the
name of the successor to Gen. Colin Powell,
the Chief of Staff of the American military,
who has just retired. Naturally there was a
long search for a successor and they did find
one but, whatever his military qualities, his
Ma is kind of an oriental Don Cherry —
small but very mouthy. And he dresses in a
fashion that makes Cherry look like a
wallflower. Ma favours neon-coloured
jackets, heavy on the orange and black
checks. And he gets very annoyed when
anyone suggests "his girls' " performances
are chemically enhanced a la muscle-bound
amazons that used to represent East
Germany. "We don't want any East German
instruction" he shouts. "We don't want to
walk using a foreign walking stick."
So how do the members of Ma's team
manage to run so fast? Ma swears the secret
is a drink made from "dong qicmg sya cao".
Before you rush out to buy some, you
might want to know that it's basically a
potion made out of crushed worm. A rare
and costly worm to be sure, but a worm.
That's not the whole secret of course. Ma
says brutally hard work is the rest of the
prescription. His runners run at least a
marathon (26 miles) every single day. And
they are expected to run Ma's way — by
applying the running 'technology' of animals.
"I studied the sika deer and the ostrich to
understand the principles of running" says
Ma, who is quite happy to tootle his own
horn. "My...technique is the most advanced
in the world."
Bound like an ostrich, run like a deer, eh?
Sounds familiar — sort of like: "Float like a
butterfly, sting like a bee."
Which if memory serves, was the motto of
another sports phenomenon not known for
his modesty. A chap called Cassius Clay.
name is going to give the Clinton regime a
hard time. Even the president got tongue-tied
when he introduced the new appointee to the
public. His name is Gen. Shalikashvili and
the name was too much for Clinton. He
finally decided to cut his losses and
introduced him as Gen. Shali.
Shali is an American, of course, but he
was born in Poland (Powell has Jamaica at
his birth place.) He did not speak English as
a child but when he got around to learning it,
he went to a number of John Wayne movies.
I have not been able to ascertain whether or
not he walks like Wayne but when he talks
you can see the resemblance.
It goes without saying that the profession
with the greatest number of name changes is
to be found in Hollywood. I would not even
hazard a guess as to how many of the actors
and actresses with whose names I am
familiar have names that are different from
the one they acquired at birth. Perhaps the
younger generation of performers are
content with the name they have but the
majority of the older ones all saw fit to
acquire a name that would stick with the
public.
Joseph Dzhugeshvili, see what you
started!
The
Short
of it
By Bonnie Gropp
Listen well so we
don't forget what
we can't remember
When you ask young people today the
meaning of Remembrance Day the answers
can be enlightening. Despite its important
signifcance, what does the history mean to
someone not yet born when it happened?
How do they remember what they have no
recollection of?
The other day a friend was telling me a
story about her five-year-old son. The
youngster had asked his mother if he could
wear the colourful red poppy on his jacket.
Mom was quite pleased and while pinning it
on his coat told him that this was a symbol
to help him remember the people who died
in the war.
"But what are their names, Mom?" he
asked? "Who are they?"
Who are they? They are the brave, the
daring, the forever young, who gave their
lives for the nameless generations that
followed. Their memory is sustained by the
families and comrades who survive them.
I was born almost 10 years after the
second world war. None of my family had
fought overseas and their experiences were
limited to the war's effects on their life at
home. But later, as a student, Remembrance
Day services were very active ways of
reminding or informing of what had gone
before. I recall all the kids from both schools
gathering in a local church for the service
which included accounts from veterans,
whose very real stories became pictures for
our imaginations.
Unfortunately, the passage of time has
taken away many of the storytellers. Of
those remaining, there is a sizable number
for whom the sharing of these memories is
unacceptable; they are too personal, too
difficult. Some don't want to talk, others
don't want to remember.
Many are modest; they don't believe
anyone would find what they have to say
interesting.
But last week, as I contacted various local
people to see if they would talk to us about
their war time experiences I was touched by
their generosity in discussing with us such
personal memories and deeply affected by
their significance. I was reminded, too, of
how special the conversations with older
people can be and how too easily we take
them for granted.
Talking to and reading about the people
involved brings home to those of us so far
removed from that era, a much more vivid
picture of what happened. It was a time of
broken hearts and romance. It was a time of
triumph and tragedy, of winners and losers.
But most importantly it was a time that
deserves recognition, that should be
commemorated. Whether you are activist or
pacifist you can not ignore, though you may
regret, the sacrifice of one human life for
another.
Lest we forget.
In 1993 these three words are perhaps a bit
of an oxymoron because for an increasing
number of us today the reality of war is
something we can not literally remember;
the faces and names are unfamiliar to us.
Our memories of the war are those we learn
from the people who were part of it and as
time passes on their numbers are decreasing.
Sadly, without their personal experiences
it will be difficult to keep the reality of
Remembrance Day alive. That is why it's
important now that we listen well to those
stories in the hope that if the rest of us can't
really remember we won't really ever forget.