The Antifan Reviews: The Olympics

Kyle Mulholland
By Kyle Mulholland
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After letting him loose on Wrestlemania and The Masters, the Antifan Kyle Mulholland is back to give us his unique take on the Rio Olympics

 

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The Rio Olympic Games are essentially a massive version of your old school’s sports day. They feature all sports conceivable like running, running further, running whilst being a man, running whilst being a woman, swimming then cycling and after that running some more.

It even features some non-sports, like ping pong and golf.

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One of the most anticipated parts of the Olympics is the opening ceremony, which is a kind of technicolour fever dream that’s equal parts frightening and dull.

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I personally found it slightly traumatic, in a way similar to watching a children's TV show with a bad hangover; all colour and noise and forced cheeriness. The entire thing ended with an earnest fellow starting a big fire with his novelty lighter while everyone cheered.
It was weird.

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Athletes from all across the world come together to compete in the Olympics as inspirations to thousands of people who are in no position physically, economically, or psychologically to ever follow in their footsteps and probably won't get off the couch anyway.
One of these physically perfect paragons of humanity is Michael Phelps; a man who is so ripped yet approachable that he looks like the vitruvian man with the face of a benign oaf photoshopped over the head.

Phelps has amassed more Olympic gold medals than any other human in existence, his trophy room must look like that big shit CGI dragon’s den from the end of The Hobbit.

He caused a stir by turning up to compete covered in huge, round hickeys. Apparently they were magic chinese hickeys that made him faster or something. Honestly, it just looked like he had gotten amourous with a giant squid. Maybe he did, he swims the best so maybe the only woman worthy of him is a creature of the Stygian depths. I’m not here to judge.

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Another superhuman was American, Simone Biles, who competed in the gymnastics for america. She was a marvel to behold, performing Crash-Bandicoot-when-he-gets-all-3-masks-and-becomes-invincible levels of jump and spin skill.

I'll admit that gymnastics makes me feel somewhat self conscious, they can deftly defy gravity and I have trouble getting up from the couch after a Dominoes. I can console myself with the fact that Gymnasts have incredibly short careers, Simone may be retired by the time she's 23, where as I'll be able to continue being mediocre right into my 60s.

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Ireland wasn’t short of inspirational figures either.

The O’Donovan brothers brought joy to the nation not only by performing well, but also through their intensely Corkonian mannerisms.
The spoke to the hearts and minds of the nation with stirring remarks like, ‘At least we beat the Brits’ and ‘Tiocfaidh ár lá’.
This masterful oratory, combined with the silver medal they won, netted them a huge level of national praise; the only way they could have gotten more is if they sang ‘Come Out Ye Black and Tans’ while abolishing the duty rates on pints.

In a similarly nautical vein is Annalise Murphy who won a silver medal in sailing. In my opinion she should have gotten more credit than the Cork lads, she was smart enough to use the wind to propel her boat which is far more efficient than rowing.

Then there was Thomas Barr, a Waterford hurdler who astonished the nation by shattering his own national high score by running and hopping over all the bits of fence in his path in under 50 seconds.

Sadly Barr didn’t win a medal in the final, but everyone was still proud of him because he seemed sound.

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As befits an event of such geopolitical significance, the Olympics have had more intrigue and controversy than a crossover episode between Game of Thrones, House of Cards and Coronation Street.

One maddening incident involved Michael Conlan, a boxer who had arrived at the Olympics with more hype around him than a Star Wars teaser trailer. He lost his match to Vladimir Nikitin from Russia, and people were outraged to find that they had totally misunderstood the rules of boxing.
Many people assumed that in boxing, the competitor who fights the hardest and dominates their opponent is the one who wins. However it looks like in reality the winner is chosen by judges who favour the fighter who collects the most bruises on their big, stupid face. By this metric Vlad was the clear winner, because his mug looked like lumpy borscht by the end of the fight.

Conlan wasn’t happy with this interpretation of the rules, he was so outraged he didn’t give a fuck that he was swearing on TV ‘I don’t give a fuck. I’m swearing on TV’, he said in an interview.

In a less sporting note was the controversy featuring OCI President Pat Hickey, a man who looks like sort of cross between Mr Burns and a wizened otter. He leapt into the headlines after he was arrested by the Brazilian police on charges of ticket scalping.
After rumours of dressing gown-clad attempted escapes, he was eventually captured and could face seven years in prison if found guilty for the same thing that prick on Gumtree does with his stack of overpriced Justin Bieber tickets.

Finally there’s Ryan Lochte, the badass US swimmer who shrugs in the face of danger. When confronted by ruthless muggers who put a cocked gun to his head Ryan Lochte simply shrugs and says ‘Whatever’.
The Rio police would have you believe that he lost all his money because he had to pay for kicking down a bog-room door and pissing in a corner like a giant toddler. They’re just jealous because they’ll never strike as much fear into the heart of the criminal underground as Ryan ‘Motherfucking’ Lochte.

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After all the controversy and trouble, all the victories and defeats, the tears and the smiles, and the muggins and vandalised restrooms, there’s one thing we should all take away from The Rio Olympics: The mental image of the Tongan flag-bearer's oiled and taught pectoral muscles.

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