so often…

…it seems like sporting superstars are invulnerable. That their aptitude for their game is translated into every aspect of life, where athletic prowess also somehow unravels into a steely immunity against the trials, tribulations, tragedies, and outright bastardry of general life.

Chris Hoy’s horrific recent announcement shatters this naivety. His announcement that he has only a handful years left of life highlights the surprising susceptibility of even the most fit and brilliant to devastation.

When superhuman sporting heroes make announcements such as Hoy’s, our perceptions of them as bulletproof and superhuman are immediately undermined. News like his acts as the starkest reminders of tragedy’s indifference to fitness or circumstance and of life’s arbitrary cruelty. If this can happen to him, certainly none of us is out of harm’s way; an olympic hero having terminal cancer pointedly highlights the fragility and frailty of life.

But, on the other hand, Hoy’s announcement only serves to reinforce his superhuman image. His stoicism and candour in the face of calamity are qualities as impressive as his sporting prowess (in and of itself monumental - an eleven time world champion and six time olympic champion).

From Sydney, to Athens, to Beijing, to London, he tore up Keirins, team pursuits and time trials. Outside of the velodrome he’s consistently fought the good fight, he’s acted as a UNICEF ambassador, a mental health activist and a staunch fighter against homelessness. His calmness and fortitude despite terminal illness is his latest act of virtue, providing small solace for the other unfortunate souls in his awful position.

Hoy’s announcement is objectively miserable news which reminds us of the absurdity of life, but his reaction to it only reminds us of his decency and brilliance.