Page: C1 / FRONT

Section: Sports

Byline: Rob Vanstone

Dateline: BEIJING

Source: The Leader-Post

 

BEIJING -- Sasha Mehmedovic is not a big name, except when you consider the expanse of his surname.

 

Despite a lack of widespread acclaim, Mehmedovic is responsible for my Olympic moment ... so far.

 

Mehmedovic, for the uninitiated, is a 23-year-old judo athlete from North York, Ont. He had his heart ripped out Sunday afternoon at the Beijing Olympics. And, admittedly, I was responsible for inducing some of the tears.

 

We met, under excruciating circumstances, after Mehmedovic was eliminated from medal contention in the men's 66-kilogram division. Mehmedovic was seven seconds away from winning a match that would have vaulted him into the bronze-medal final, only to commit a tactical error (called a false attack) that necessitated the judo equivalent of sudden-death overtime, in which he lost.

 

In the sombre aftermath of defeat, Mehmedovic sat on the mat, looking crushed. He stared vacantly at his Russian opponent, Alim Gadanov, before they adhered to the sport's protocol by bowing at one another. Then it was time for Mehmedovic to enter the mixed zone, where athletes experience the indescribable thrill that is interacting with the media.

 

Mehmedovic was shaken when he emerged. He took a few seconds to compose himself before being interviewed by CBC -- which, as a rights-holder, gets the first shot at interviewing Canadian athletes. Then he approached this scribbler and Brad Kelly of the Metroland newspaper in Oshawa, Ont.

 

Try to imagine his situation. You have been training for this day for so many years. Then your dreams are shattered, just when you can taste a shot at a medal. Seven seconds away . . .

 

The last thing you want is to have complete strangers, who could not compete in the Olympics unless the IOC sanctioned the bellyflop, attempt to tap your emotions. But that is precisely what I strived to do.

 

It must have worked. I made him cry.

 

Part of me felt satisfied for having presented a question that delivered a poignant lead quote for a story. The other half of me (the other 108 pounds) continues to feel guilty, because the question hit him like a dagger.

 

Judo is an especially unforgiving sport, in that each weight class is decided in one whirlwind day. To quote that noted judo aficionado, Carol Burnett: "Seems we just get started and before you know it, comes the time we have to say, 'So long.' ''

 

Mehmedovic had four matches (including two victories) within four hours, and that was it. Instead of attempting to become Canada's first medallist in Beijing, he descended to ninth in the standings, and was much lower emotionally.

 

On behalf of Canwest News Service, I asked him what it was like to see everything evaporate so quickly. The question was barely enunciated when the tears started flowing.

 

"Four years, that's on the mat,'' he said, before pausing to compose himself. "It was pretty much four years gone, right there. The thing is, I don't know if I can get another chance to go to the Olympics, so we'll see.''

 

By then, he was unravelling. Neither of us had an appetite for any more questions at that juncture. End of interview.

 

Since that conversation, I have marvelled at the decency of this young man, of whom I had not heard until Sunday. We didn't have any history. I would not have blamed him for declining interviews. He isn't a millionaire, nor is he a well-known athlete.

 

Yes, I am aware that our Olympians are partially taxpayer-funded, so there is some degree of accountability, but Canadians are not clamouring to hear from the likes of Mehmedovic. This is not akin to grilling Eric Tillman, Ken Miller, Marcus Crandell or Brent Parker, from whom fans rightfully demand answers.

 

Mehmedovic is just an ordinary guy in a low-profile sport -- someone who aspires to become a physical education teacher, get into coaching, and live a good life. Athletically, he is still among the elite. How many of us are ninth-best in the world at anything? How many of us ever compete, let alone earn two victories, on such a stage? But he is not a medallist, so nobody knows his name.

 

It's Sasha Mehmedovic.

 

His loved ones were in the crowd, chanting his name -- one I will not forget.