Introduction to Non-Fiction Texts

English and Media Faculty
Text 1: An article from The Telegraph (online)
Olympic lessons from when we really were running
on empty
The London Games of 1948 demonstrate how austerity can be turned into a sporting
triumph, writes Boris Johnson.
Austerity Olympics: the 1948 London games cost just £600,000 to stage
So we lurch liverishly towards our Olympic Year. Gloomily we ponder the global economy, and now — just
as we are wondering how we can afford it all — is exactly the moment to look at the astonishing
achievements of this country. Let us peer back to the last time London welcomed the world to the Olympic
Games. You only have to read Janie Hampton’s delightful account of the Austerity Olympics to see that all
this talk of post-war “decline” is utter tosh. When the world came to London in 1948, they not only found a
bombed-out capital, with weeds still sprouting in the rubble. We were so poor that British athletes were
asked to make their own shorts and to train on the beach at Butlins. We couldn’t even afford to build the
venues on our own. The Swiss donated the gymnastic equipment; Finland contributed timber for the
basketball court; and the Canadians gave two Douglas firs for the diving boards at the Empire Pool.
Olympic village? You must be joking. The world’s athletes were told to bring their own towels and bunk up
in makeshift dorms in school classrooms. The London organising committee of the day took money from
any sponsor it could find, including Brylcreem, Guinness and Craven A cigarettes. Somehow we ferried
4,000 athletes between 36 venues with nothing but a fleet of clapped-out pre-Routemaster buses, and the
entire logistics of the Games was done from a Roman Catholic Church hall in Wembley with the help of
three blackboards headed “Today”, “Tomorrow” and “The Day After Tomorrow”. We weren’t just poor: we
were half-starved. Our athletes were so badly nourished that they sometimes conked out during training –
and no wonder, when their rations were restricted to 13oz of meat, 6oz butter, 8oz sugar and one egg a
week.
The British were eating less in 1948 than in 1945, and a pitying world sent food parcels to the Games. The
Danes contributed 160,000 eggs; China sent oiled bamboo shoots; the Mexicans sent kidneys, liver and
tripe. The Americans insisted on supplementing their diet with daily flights from Los Angeles to Uxbridge,
bringing fresh supplies of white flour and fruit. The French were so appalled by food in London that they
sent a special refrigerated train from Paris, laden with steaks and supplies of Mouton-Rothschild – in fact,
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they despatched so much wine that the suspicious British customs officials impounded it on the grounds
that it could not be for personal consumption.
As a country, we felt so destitute as to be embarrassed, ashamed to be the object of global scrutiny. When
the Olympic year dawned, London’s Evening Standard commented bitterly: “The average range of
enthusiasm for the Games stretches from lukewarm to dislike. It is not too late for the invitations to be
politely withdrawn.” A magazine called London Calling asked: “Are the Olympic Games of today
worthwhile?… Are they more of a headache than a pleasure to all concerned?” This mood lasted right the
way through the preparations, and when visitors began to arrive they were struck by the doleful absence
of razzmatazz. A few flags hung limply in Piccadilly Circus. There was a general welcome sign in three
languages at Paddington Station, while another in the Harrow Road announced bleakly: “Welcome to the
Olympic Games. This road is a danger zone.”
And if you are under the impression that we were all much nicer and better behaved in those days, you
should think again. The 1948 London Olympics were deeply sexist – partly because the authorities were
still convinced that women would succumb to premature senility if they ran more than 200 yards. Trying to
sum up what was great about Fanny Blankers-Koen, who won four golds in spite of being a 30-year-old
mother of two, the Daily Graphic said: “She darns with artistry. Her greatest love next to racing is
housework.” British society was much more class-ridden than it is today: take the case of Olympic hurdler
Joseph Birrell, who was turned down twice for Sandhurst for having a northern accent. Nor were we
notably more honest. When the Australian team arrived after a hellish boat trip, they found a dock strike in
progress. Their luggage was stranded on the quay and all their tracksuits were nicked. The French concert
pianist Micheline Ostermeyer amazed the world by winning both the shot put and the discus – only to have
someone steal her medals.
As for old-fashioned sportsmanship – do me a favour. The boxing was halted by angry demonstrations, the
rowers had a huge punch-up at Henley and when one Italian dropped the baton in the 4 x 400 hurdles the
next Italian hit him on the head. As for the weather, it was so hot during the opening ceremony that
several athletes fainted, and thereafter it rained so torrentially that the track was flooded.
To cap it all, we did rather feebly – taking only three gold medals (compared with 84 for America) and
coming 12th in the table. We were thrashed by the French, the Swedes, the Dutch – and the Germans and
Russians didn’t even come. And in spite of it all, the 1948 London Games were a fantastic triumph. Huge
crowds went to watch such extraordinary athletes as Blankers-Koen and Emil Zatopek. The nation was
united in excitement and pride and the world’s press returned a rapturous verdict on the general
jollification.
In the words of the Wembley chairman, Sir Arthur Elvin, “the dismal johnnies who prophesied failure have
been put to rout”. And guess what – it made money! There was a profit of £29,000, some of which was
demanded by the taxman.
Look at us today. We are incomparably richer and better fed. Our equipment and training are the best in
the world. We are, as a nation, faster, taller and stronger than we were in the era of our grandparents. We
have almost completed the Olympic venues, on time and on budget. Team GB is now working hard to
ensure that we repeat our amazing success of 2008, and come fourth in the table of Olympic medals. If
there are any dismal johnnies who worry about whether Britain should be putting on the Games in this
new age of austerity, I have no doubt they will be routed again.
English and Media Faculty
Text 2: An article from The Telegraph (online)
Ennis, Europe’s finest female athlete
Jessica Ennis has been voted European female athlete of the year following her runaway
heptathlon triumph at the London 2012 Olympics.
By Simon Hart
The 26-year-old, who broke her own British record when she amassed a winning points total of 6,955, is
the first British woman to receive the accolade since Dame Kelly Holmes was honoured for her double
Olympic triumph in 2004.
The only other previous British winner was Sally Gunnell in 1993.
Ennis, who was voted the continent’s top performer by a panel of experts, finished ahead of Russia’s Anna
Chicherova, the Olympic high jump gold medallist, and Barbora Spotakova, who retained her Olympic
javelin title.
The Sheffield athlete will receive her award at a ceremony in Malta on Oct 13, which is likely to be double
celebration for British athletics with Mo Farah expected to be named as male European athlete of the year
on Friday.
Earlier this week, world junior 100 metres champion Adam Gemili and world junior long jump gold
medallist Katarina Johnson-Thompson were both named runners-up in the European Rising Star of the Year
polls.
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Text 3: In this extract of his memoir, My Story, Tom Daley talks about his approach to diving.
Standing on top of the 10m board I have butterflies and feel a rush of adrenalin. No matter how many times I’ve
dived from this platform, it scares me. It’s like taking a leap into the unknown because every dive is different.
The 10m platform at the pool in Plymouth where I train every day is considered one of the hardest boards to dive off
in the world. The domed, concrete ceiling is low, so it feels like it is caving in on you, and the board is almost half the
size of ordinary 10m platforms and wobbles when you stand on it.
Looking out, I can see miniature people doing front crawl up and down the regular pool, women bobbing up and
down at aqua-aerobics or mothers making their way to a baby session with their youngsters in tow. A dozen sunken
hair bands sit lifeless on the bottom of the pool beneath me, along with a white, human sized dummy, for the lifesaving classes. I am immune to the sweet and sticky chlorine; to me, the pool smells as familiar as home.
There are always echoing noises – children laughing, music playing and people talking, but when I stand up there, I
am in my own bubble of silence. There is so much space around me it’s almost like I’m standing on a concrete block
that is suspended in mid-air.
By the time I have reached the top, via a chain of worn wooden ladders, I have already visualized the dive in my head
a number of times. I go through every movement in my mind and the way my body will coil, tuck, whirl and twist,
like elastic. I don’t think about the landing, I concentrate on the process. I am totally focused. I dry myself with my
soft chamois cloth so my hands do not slip when I bend into a tuck or pike position. It’s also very, very hot and
clammy and moisture starts to seep back into your skin so you have to wipe it away. Before I start a training session
or competition, I also rub Palmolive soap on my arms and legs because it helps me grip. If you slip out of a dive, it’s a
disaster.
I try to breathe slowly and steadily and not think too hard about what I’m about to do. If you think too much the
demons start crawling into your head and you imagine all the things that could go wrong: What if I land badly? What
if I lose myself in the air? What if I miss my hands? I have to focus on each step at a time.
The hardest dive on my list is the front four and a half somersaults with tuck – sometimes called ‘The Big Front’ – and
it is so technically and physically challenging that people in the once thought it was impossible. But with a difficulty
rating of 3.7, it will be key to me doing well at the Olympics. It’s a make-or-break dive: do it well and the competition
could be yours, perform it badly and you may end up throwing a medal away.
For ‘The Big Front’, I take a run-up from the back of the board. I make sure my shoulders are relaxed, so I don’t look
anxious, but every other muscle is tense and feels solid and strong. I count myself in, to urge myself to run, say
aloud, ‘One, two, three…’, take a deep breath and go. I run on my toes – it’s almost like a hop, skip and a jump – four
steps to give me power and momentum as I take off and launch myself into the air.
Immediately I snap into a tuck, clutching my knees to my chest. I don’t know how I do, it’s like my brain just knows.
As I spin round, it feels like I am going in slow motion and on some occasions, it even feels like I have lots of time. I
have to use my eyes. If I close them I could land flat on the water. The force is so hard, it’s like a car crash. You bruise
immediately, and can split open or cough up blood. I can tell if I’ve done a good dive because as I strike the water
and split my hands apart it creates a vacuum, so I immediately get sucked under – in a ‘rip’ entry – and water pulls
me down, perfectly straight, like an arrow. The immediate feeling is a sense of relief that I haven’t hurt myself.
English and Media Faculty
Wider reading: An article from the BBC website
Sports Personality of the Year
Sports Personality's dynamic dozen: the champions up close and
personal
Friends, relatives and team-mates of the 12 shortlisted athletes explain why they should win Sports
Personality of the Year
Jessica Ennis with her coach, Tony Minichiello, at the London 2012 Olympic Games. 'She blew away the competition,' he says. Photograph:
Tom Jenkins for the Observer
Nicola Adams, by Rob McCracken, GB Boxing performance director
There have been so many superb performances from British athletes this year that you could make a
decent case for all of them to win Sports Personality. But Nicola didn't just win a gold medal, she did it in
style. Her performance in the final was outstanding and she comprehensively out-boxed her closest rival,
Ren Cancan, in one of the best performances of any boxer at the Games.
In becoming the first woman to win an Olympic boxing gold Nicola made history, achieving something that
no one can ever take away from her. In the gym we joke that she is now the answer to a quiz question, but
the scale of her achievement should not be underestimated. Not only has she finally put an end to the
debate about whether or not women should box, she has emerged as a fantastic ambassador and is going
to attract a whole new generation to the sport. For a Games where legacy was such an important issue, I
believe Nicola's achievement will deliver a legacy – and have no doubt that in years to come we will have
lots of female boxers that say they got into the sport after seeing Nicola Adams win a gold medal in
London.
Ben Ainslie, by Stephen Park, Royal Yachting Association's Olympic manager
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Ben has taken part in five Olympic Games. At the last four he's won a gold medal – and that's in a sport
where you have one chance each Games to win a medal. Only Sir Steve Redgrave can match that. Ben
displays huge passion about his sport, but he's not one to spend a lot of time courting public favour. He
focuses his life on sporting achievement.
This year was a classic example. He finished the Olympics and, while many of the medallists are probably
still enjoying a few months' wining and dining and attending sponsor meetings and presentations, within a
few days Ben was on the plane going to San Francisco concentrating on the next sporting challenge –
representing Britain in the America's Cup, the oldest sporting trophy never to be won by Great Britain. In
an environment that is often about personal celebrity, he is a great role model.
Jessica Ennis, by Toni Minichiello, coach
I would say Jess is the only person on the list for whom a silver medal would have been considered a failure
at London 2012. That's a huge amount of pressure. But she dealt with it, emphatically, and blew away the
competition in London; hers was the third-biggest winning margin in Olympic heptathlon history, setting
two British records. Her 12.54sec hurdles victory was so fast it would have won her Olympic gold in Beijing.
It takes a very special athlete to have achieved what Jess has done, not just in London but over the past
four years: missing the Beijing Olympic Games with a career-threatening injury, bouncing back to top the
world rankings in three out of the last four years – Britain's most competitive athlete – before losing both
her world titles in the buildup to London 2012 and having to fight back to take gold on her Olympic debut.
Jess really is that girl-next-door type personality; people inevitably looked for stories to write about her in
the weeks leading up to the London Games, but there was nothing. With Jess, what you see is always what
you get.
Mo Farah, by Alan Watkinson, former PE teacher
When Mo arrived at our school, aged 11, the outlook for his future was pretty bleak. When he came from
Somalia at nine, he was a very underprivileged child, his language skills were poor, and he kept getting into
trouble. In his first year with us one colleague said: "The way things are going there's a real possibility he
could be facing permanent exclusion." To come from that and go on to achieve two Olympic gold medals,
with all the discipline and commitment that requires, is phenomenal.
Mo's victories seemed to unite the nation: everyone has a story about what they were doing when Mo
won his gold medals. I met Eddie Izzard and he said he was doing a gig in French in a basement in Covent
Garden when he heard this crescendo of noise coming from upstairs. He stopped the gig, got out his
iPhone and asked the French to watch it with him while Mo won the 5k.
As a personality Mo is very humble, he gets on with anybody and everybody and has a great sense of
humour. It speaks volumes that when he became world champion the next thing he did was to start his
foundation.
Katherine Grainger, by Anna Watkins, rowing partner
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Katherine not only reached the pinnacle of her sport, she achieved it in a way that has inspired a lot of
people. Within the sport itself she has done so much, winning the world championships six times, a gold or
silver medal at every major regatta for 10 years on the trot, becoming the first British woman to win four
consecutive medals at four Olympic Games, and receiving championship medals in her five different
rowing events. That's pretty rare.
Katherine has been there through all the journey of women's rowing from its first Olympic medal. There
was as much pressure on us as you could possibly want – we had been named a year before [by
the Guardian] as Great Britain's most likely gold medal across all sports. We were committed to gold or
bust and we had an unbeaten run for three years. But it was always about winning a gold medal in front of
a home crowd on that particular day. The extra media interest was just putting a few pebbles on top of a
huge mountain and we dealt with it by keeping professional, keeping it about the training and doing very
few interviews. When we got to the Olympics the race we had was easier than the ones at the training
camps. They were brilliant preparation. Since the Olympics there have been more glasses of champagne
than there were in our whole lives up to that point.
Katherine is so passionate and such an instinctive racer. I really struggled with self-belief but she helped
me to make that leap to believe in myself. Her story is a microcosm of what the nation has been through.
We all doubt ourselves and we all have our hard times and our difficulties. This summer Britain turned that
around and showed the best of ourselves; Katherine showed the best of herself too. If there is one story
that exemplifies the Olympic spirit and how the summer was for us as a nation, then it's Katherine's. We
should all celebrate that.
Sir Chris Hoy, by Craig MacLean, former team-mate
It's difficult to set anybody apart on the list. For me it's about consistency, and the pride Chris has had over
the years. He had everything to lose in London, going in as triple Olympic champion at a home Games. He's
a remarkable competitor.
Chris has never allowed himself to get really unfit. He's maybe had one or two weeks off the bike in all the
time I've known him. Whereas by the end of the season a lot of riders have just had enough and do not
want to see a bike for a few months, Chris will always carry on. He has always maintained a very high level
of fitness, and that's been the key. If your fitness has slipped it is when you start building up again that
injuries occur, and it'll hold you back over the years.
Mark Cavendish won it last year and it's good to maintain that profile for cycling. For Chris, I'm sure it
would mean the world to him. He's been Sports Personality of the Year already. I think it's only three
people have won it twice: Damon Hill, Nigel Mansell and Henry Cooper, so he would be up there with a few
British sporting legends.
Rory McIlroy, by Paul Gray, general manager at Holywood Golf Club
Rory has just had an unbelievable year, even more so when you consider people were writing him off
towards the beginning of it. He was told he should change caddie and that his girlfriend was a distraction; it
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says it all about his character that he recovered from that to have his best year ever with all those things
still in place. He kept going and earned his reward.
Rory remains the same boy he always was. He is only too willing to help people from the area and he
comes back to help out at the club, despite the fact time has become increasingly precious to him. That is
on top of the other charity work he does. Rory's progression has been inspiring; young children believe
such success is possible when they see him achieving it. It basically offers belief.
Andy Murray, by Jez Green, trainer and conditioner
All of them are winners – that's why they've been nominated. But I can only talk about what I've witnessed
first-hand over many years. Andy is the most dedicated guy I know. He trains like nobody I've ever trained
before and he is continually looking for that extra edge. He's definitely one of the finest athletes around.
Having seen all the hard work that's gone in behind the scenes over the years, the ups and downs, it was
amazing seeing him win gold at the Olympics, where he beat Roger Federer, and in New York, where he
beat Novak Djokovic. So he defeated the alternating world No1 and No2 for the biggest wins of his career.
But, knowing Andy like I do, he won't rest. He'll keep on pushing, hungry for more success – and he
deserves every bit of it that comes his way.
Ellie Simmonds, by Charlotte Henshaw, team-mate
There was a lot of pressure on Ellie going into the Games, but she took a step back and knuckled down and
it paid off. She swam amazingly well. To deal with that at 18 is pretty incredible and it's quite scary. She's
done all this and she's still in her teens – if she wants to carry on, she's got so much potential and she's
already got six Paralympic medals.
She has been a great ambassador for Paralympic swimming and she's done a lot of promotion, which has
been brilliant for the rest of the team, but she's also known when to draw the line and say: "You know
what, I need to put my head down and do the job I have to do." Once the Games started the home crowd
really helped, but Ellie was the one everyone recognised, and there was so much pressure to perform.
To cope with that was impressive, but nothing seems to faze her – we were on a training camp in Mallorca
in May and she was going off and taking AS-level exams with some other team-mates at a Spanish school.
To be able to do her exams and then still come to the Games and perform the way she did was pretty
special.
It's an amazing step forward to have three Paralympians on the shortlist. Before this year we didn't get
much media attention and I don't think people really understood that the Paralympics was as elite as it is.
Ellie has been a great spokesperson and figurehead for the team as a whole, and has really helped speed
that process along.
Sarah Storey, by Barney Storey, husband
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She's one of those people who can turn her hand to anything and go and get it. I don't know how she does
it, to be honest. She's just announced that she's pregnant, and after that she'll get straight back into racing.
The baby is due at the end of June so she'll look at end-of-season races and pick up where she left off. No
rest really, it's just back into training.
Apart from the Games, Sarah's had an amazing year in road-racing as well. You almost forget the early
parts of the year when she was dominating national series road races. It's been a good, really consistent
year for her across the board. But being inside that velodrome was something else. It was something we
will struggle to experience again in our lifetimes.
For the first time at a Paralympics – and I've seen it evolve over the past three Games – London 2012 was
all about ability rather than disability. People just saw the races for what they were: a race. It wasn't about
the level of impairment, it was just about people racing, whether it was Jonnie Peacock lighting up the
stadium in that 100m final, or Sarah in the velodrome, there were thousands of fans screaming and for
that reason it was a massive change in the Paralympic Games.
David Weir, by Jackie Weir, mother
He's been doing it since he was nine years old and he's never been recognised as an athlete – that's all he
ever wanted. He was never quite recognised coming back from Beijing with the two gold medals, the
bronze and the silver. But this year when he won the marathon I said to him: "We've done it, they know
you're an athlete now."
He's won the London Marathon six times. Nobody has ever won it more than twice. He goes out in all
weathers, like they all do. He does up to 100 miles a week. But he never thinks he's going to win anything,
that's his attitude. That's why he's admired, I think. He knows that the athletes behind him are world class
and he takes nothing for granted. He's quite humble about what he's achieved and he's never been full of
himself. As a child he used to come home from places and I'd ask him: "Who was there?" He'd just say:
"Princess Diana" – no screaming and shouting like most kids do.
I'd like him to win just to acknowledge he's an athlete. We've always known that, but we'd like everyone
else to know that. Wouldn't it be great just for a disabled person to get it? Wouldn't it be good to win the
marathon, win all the medals, win the sports personality and get an MBE from the Queen in the same
year? When he races he does it for Queen and country as well as family, he always says that. It would be
wonderful. I'd just love to see it happen.
Bradley Wiggins, by Cath Wiggins, wife
Just to be on that list this year, and to be talked about as a favourite for the Sports Personality is an
achievement. Just look at the cyclists who aren't there – Jason Kenny, Laura Trott, Vicky Pendleton. I hope
he wins, but it won't be a catastrophic disappointment if he doesn't, because of the calibre of the list. It's
probably the best shortlist ever, and some of the best people are not even on it.
As to why he deserves to win, I can't say that Brad works harder than anyone else; all those champions
work hard and make sacrifices in their lives. But what makes the difference for me, on top of the year that
Brad has had, is that some of the stuff he's done before – the Olympic gold medals, the podium in the Tour
– has gone unrecognised.
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I can honestly say I've never known anyone like him in terms of the focus he can put into a single goal. But
it's not easy living with someone like that – you feel inadequate, constantly.
Most people just aren't that focused, not over the long term at least. And then there's the things you miss
as a family: parents' evenings, the kids' Christmas concerts, just going for a walk with the dogs in the
woods – he does as little walking as he can in the season. It all impacts on us as a family, but that's no
different from how it is with any other athlete.
He came back from the Tour de France with his head in the clouds and then 10 days later went to Hampton
Court and did it all again. That he managed to hold it together is a big one for me, because I have personal
experience of the state he's been in before after finishing a three-week Tour. For me as a cycling fan as
well, I'd say look at the other races he won this year: Paris-Nice, the Tour of Romandie, the Dauphiné for
the second year. You have to say the stars have really aligned for him. So, of course I want him to win. I
always do.