Heroism of Olympics Tainted by Athletes' Drug Use

As the Olympics come to a close in Sydney this weekend, I will have to admit I am a little heartbroken.

The Olympics are the ultimate in athletic competition, and nothing pumps me up more then seeing a race go to the finish for a gold medal, and hearing the stories behind the athletes' endeavors. However, as I have been watching the games these past few weeks, I couldn't help but feel some sort of doubt about the legitimacy of these athletes' accomplishments.

Most people have heard of the big names in the Olympics this year, whether it be Michael Johnson, Marion Jones or Jenny Thompson, and maybe a good portion of Olympians are competing without the aid of performance enhancing drugs. It is, however, the uncertainty of their performances that raises my suspicion of how pure these games are.

The International Olympic Committee claims that the Sydney Olympics are "the cleanest games ever," due in part to their "tough new tests." But how can these new state-of-the-art laboratories help when there are hundres of steroids in existence, and fewer than a hundred are currently banned? Worse yet, there are a number of popular doping techniques that cannot be detected by the IOC's current testing procedures.

A few forms of performance enhancements that top the list are human growth hormone (hGH) and insulin-like growth factor-1 (IGF-1). Both of these drugs build muscle and are completely undetectable. In Atlanta in 1996, many of the athletes dubbed the games as "the human growth hormone games." Taking into account that a considerable number of athletes must have used this drug in Atlanta, you would think that Sydney officials would make sure that it would be tested for. Much the opposite is true, however, as the International Olympic Committee couldn't find a reliable way to test for human growth hormone. IGF-1 is produced naturally by the body, as well as supplemented artificially, but the present tests can't distinguish between the two.

Another banned substance is erythropoletin (EPO), which has been used by cyclists, runners, and even tennis players. It increases the production of red blood cells, which in return improve endurance. A major problem for athletes who take this drug is it thickens their blood severely, and it has been blamed for the deaths of at least 25 cyclists. If I was a cyclist, it wouldn't take much thought for me to prioritize my life over a gold medal, but I imagine it is very easy to get caught up in the idea of being an Olympic champion.

It seems that with every Olympic Games comes a drug controversy. In 1988's Seoul Games, the center of attention was Canadian sprinter Ben Johnson, who after setting the world record in the 100-meter dash and winning the gold, was stripped of his medal for steroid use. Irish swimmer Michelle Smith swam amidst uncountable allegations of drug use while she tore up the competition in Atlanta four years ago. Although she wasn't caught at the time, in 1998 she was banned from the Olympics for tampering with a surprise drug test. Smith did get to keep her three gold medals from Atlanta, though. Also, in 1998, Atlanta shot-put champion Randy Barnes was banned for life after he tested positive for the steroid androstenedione. Even C.J. Hunter, world champion shot-putter and husband of Olympic standout Marion Jones, has been dogged by drug charges, even though he isn't competing in the games because of an injury.

This year, athletes such as Aleksandr Bagach (Atlanta bronze medalist in shot-put), and Russian synchronized swimmer Maria Kisseleva, who tested positive for steroids and ephedrine, were cleared for competition in Sydney. This leads me to think that the IOC has a rather large tolerance for protecting athletes who have been fingered by drug tests. As a wide-eyed watcher of the Olympics, I wonder if what I'm seeing is more of a battle of who can sneak what drug by, as opposed to clean and pure competition.

There has been some progress, though, evident in the recent crack down on the Chinese swimming team. China has managed to bypass the former East Germany as the country with the worst reputation for state-sponsored drug abuse. The Chinese had argued, with little support, that because Caucasian ethnic groups build muscle easier than North Asians do, they should be able to level the playing field. But since they are vying to hold the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, they have started to conduct random drug testing within their

country to try to clean up their acts.

It is very clear that athletes in Sydney have used substances developed solely for these games. The only rule they must follow is Œas long as the drug is undetectable by the International Olympic Committee, they are clear to compete.'

As an avid lover of the Olympics, I like to look up to athletes as heroes and people I admire. I like to think Michael Johnson, one of the fastest men in the world, is an athlete who follows the rules and wins naturally. But how am I ever going to know? Maybe ten years down the road the IOC will find him, or any other athlete, guilty of doping. Then this man or woman whom I have idealized is nothing more than a cheater, someone who was a great athlete but needed extra help to be the best.

We as a society want heroes. We want to be able to think we can be those people someday. Perhaps this is why athletes continue to break rules to be champions. They know they are looked up to, and the pressure weighing down on them must be intense. For now, in Sydney, we can only speculate as to how reality-based these athlete's glorifications are. Hardly any athlete is going to admit he or she has used steroids to achieve greatness, for what kind of idol would they be then? After all, who wants to watch a cheater?