The Role of sport in society
What role, if any, does sport have in this brave new world where our priorities are staying healthy, finding food on shop shelves and having enough to pay the bills? The sporting events calendar is rapidly emptying of familiar fixtures like football, rugby and even the Olympics, while others like the Tour de France desperately try to find a way to carry on. Should this even matter?
As an athlete competing in a sport that only a few die-hard fans follow, this question has been much on my mind. I sail for a living – often solo across oceans – and am in the middle of pulling together a campaign to race non-stop, single-handed around the world. Just getting to the start line has taken a life time of training and competition. To get place on the start line has been a ten year focus; running the campaign is a more than full time job, it’s my entire life really – looking for sponsorship, preparing the boat, getting myself in shape, regular training and competition. I’m not on any key worker list, and nor should I be.
But the loss of great sporting clashes and competitions this summer is somehow shocking. The familiar rhythm of home and away, TV fixtures and world cup races has gone, leaving us adrift in a sea of alarming news and social distancing. Even in normal life (how far away that seems) sport gave us an outlet for our anger and joy, our pride and despair, the mundane and the serious.
Sport is more than an individual proving their own prowess. It unites families, towns and countries – we share victory and defeat. We all perch on the edge of our seats, collectively punch the air or hold our heads in disbelief. It’s a national emblem, a matter of pride, a rallying point. And all of these we need right now, maybe more than ever.
Our corner stones of the sporting year have rightly, over the past few weeks been cancelled one by one – competitors’ and spectator’s health must always come first. So the question that plays on my mind is could a sport like mine – taking place far offshore with no risk of infection, and largely viewed through internet streaming –take on the mantle of Saturday football matches or velodrome world records.
Solo ocean racing offers the unique opportunity to stream the coverage from on board our yachts as they hurtle around the globe. Each athlete shares their own story, while the fleet can be collectively tracked online with comment and coverage from the Race management team.
I race my 60-foot yacht across great stretches of sea, on my own, against a group of world class international male and female sailors. I face gales and towering waves, fear windless days and icebergs, and endure months of sleep deprivation, physical and mental challenges and all in total isolation. Right now, I’m preparing for the Vendee Globe – the most famous sailing race of them all, and perhaps the only major race of any sort left this year.
For all that it may be unfamiliar, the core is the same – it’s the story of being pushed to the limit mentally and physically, to achieve a goal other’s dream about. It’s about someone (me), often an underdog (definitely me), striving to beat the elements and other competitors to the finish line.
But maybe a more important question isn’t could it, but should I still be working towards this sporting goal? Of course, I have a vested interest. The uncertain economic environment created by coronavirus means investment has disappeared. I still need to raise significant funding to ensure my boat is well prepared to do battle with some of the world’s toughest environments, and I am conflicted about how to proceed when others face hardship and tragedy.
But maybe my role in all this is to try and be the thing that gives people relief from a stark world, that brings back pride and ambition beyond just fighting for survival, that gives people something to follow together that has nothing to do with viruses or pandemics. If that’s the case then I will do everything to get to the start line off France in November and sail as hard as I can with the nation’s hope filling my sails.