The Prodigal Garland

Wow! No. Not again. This year’s Cross Country garland has eloped, riding  off in the cradling handle bars of  a foreigner just like ten of its last twelve siblings. Trust me, not one Belizean is going to be turning the pages of their Simon Quan calendar for the next three hundred and eighty days with any hope that come next year, the cross country trophy will be at an address within walking distance of the Swing Bridge. No. No. No. And no matter how much on Monday night James protests to the contrary, “Jah” seemed to have been only over the wheels of foreigners, pretty much the same way He used to be on the side of the bigger army in Machiavelli’s days.

I mean I felt tricked. It felt exactly the same way, I felt on the morning of Friday, February 8, 2008. Yap, the garland is gone, this time in the same foot beaten path where xateros, menacingly wave over-worked machetes in front of toothless smiles. As the Guatemalan champion rolled over the finish line, he won our contempt by mockingly performing “handless capers” just seconds before descending into a volatile Belizean crowd. I realized then that Perez was really saying: “this was like taking candy from a baby”. I was livid.

I was absolutely furious despite the heavy doses of positive-perspective pills being shoveled down our throats by the forward thinking radio commentators who did their best impression of nation counseling. Some were preaching  the gospel of next year retribution with empty conviction while some unconvincingly glorified preventable mediocrity. Don’t get me wrong, brethren, it was an exciting race and the coverage has gotten better, but as many disappointed Belizeans kicking the Memorial Park dirt said: “dis dah lone simpilniss”.  In fact, Quinton Hamilton gave the “baddis” quote of the 2010 Cross Country Cycling Classic when he said dryly: “I think I did better during the race but nobody wants to hear about during the race, people want to hear about the finish.” Done seh it, big man!

Oh, the trauma of it! Imagine the average Belizean who woke up early on a holiday morning.  This surely is no small feat, save for the performance enhancing inspiration of finally being able to shake off the drug-less goma of Good Friday with an ice cold Belikin.

All our hopes were up. It was propped up higher by the contagious enthusiasm of the commentators; the natural high that the Cross Country induces on our patriotic consciousness; a four year drought and the alien composition of the lead bunch as they plunged into city limits.

Picture perfect: a mouth watering fifteen thousand dollar purse, Belize’s number one and number three ranked riders, the twenty mile pampering of a local boy and a three minute lead on the main peloton. The only other thing missing was a partridge in a pear tree. But as “Bolve” likes to say, it is not reality, it is actuality and in the rabbit hole of actuality a Guatemalan trespasses on what should be the exclusive pride of Belizean heritage, spoils and toil.

No one will dispute that the Annual Cross Country Cycling Classic is the evaporating watering hole for patriotism and national pride. Because of this race, one can argue that cycling is the undisputed national sport. But the race cuts deeper than just a high-spirited Easter conversation topic and entertainment spectacle. No, it is the esteemed extension of Belize’s riding culture.  Truly, like other countries with bicycle cultures such as Denmark, the Netherlands, Germany, China, Bangladesh and Japan, more than thirty seven per cent of our population ride bicycles daily.

For many in Belize riding bikes is equally a compliment to our small geographic size and a burden of our third world restraints. A car is still an expensive luxury in Belize; like it or not. All Belizeans can identify with the challenges of the riders on Holy Saturday. Why? Truth is, most of us still ride, greasing up our pants foot while peddling but cycling is given a noble edge by the Annual Cross Country Cycling Classic.

My fondest childhood memories are connected to bikes,  I would “teck chance” and push off on my Grandfather’s black English Roadster, knowing full well that the old drum brakes would screech so hard, I would be discovered and tambran whipped. But the ride was always worth it because we had no high definition tv’s and Playstation 3s. So the race and its glory are as personal and meaningful as the nostalgia of bugle blowing and shaved ice.

As I listened and watched on Saturday, my bright-eyed childhood expectations, became doused with actuality. I realized we have a huge “truck back posse”. What do I mean? Brandon Cattouse said something that I verified to be the norm with Belizean riders in the Cross Country, even for the over praised Marlon Castillo. Brandon said: “I am not disappointed because this is the fourth Cross Country I’ve ridden and the first I’ve finished..” Huh???? At that rate I understand why we only have a Belizean winning every five or so years. Now I am no Press Cadogan but that percentage is not a good one. What false hope we have when from a total of ninety five riders who started the race only twenty nine Belizeans finish it.

In actuality the true ratio of foreigners to local riders is twenty nine to seventeen.  Yap, only two of the foreigners did not finish the race and if you want to know how they placed, last I checked there were only two Belizeans in the top ten. Now dat dah just shame!!!

There is enough substance, or lack of substance, to have three parts to this discourse but in Belize constructive criticism of athletes has to be sugar coated to diabetic levels of “pet and powdering”. So I will end by asking for three things.

One, will this ditsy government put together a national team. Hey Penny boy, all you need to do is pick up the phone, call Uncle Fidel, ask him to train and host nine riders in Cuba for eight months, and let the Belize Government pay a stipend to the families of these national riders. Look at it this way Penny boy, just don’t buy two of those fancy new trucks that you guys mash up every year.

Two, we need to pressure this moronic government to not build million dollar fences around the Marion Jones Stadium but instead to fix the darn track and bleachers. It is flat out unsafe to have riders sprinting into a crowded street of excited or annoyed spectators. Additionally, finishing the race in the stadium makes it more spectator friendly. Finally on that point, finishing “da Track” allows the Association to generate revenue by charging an admittance fee at the gate.

And three, to my Belizeans, unu stap fight up and mek di farinah dehn win nuh. Belizeans deh wid Belizeans outside of the race, why you guys cannot be united in the race? Belizeans are so passionate about your superstardom and your entitlement to the garland that the private sector, put up over thirty thousand dollars in sponsorship and prizes, unu do a ting no, please? I say this and I say it loudly, no team is bigger than the country. As we patch our wheels and egos for next year remember: Que viva Belize!!!

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