Bolt of Lightning

A rather intriguing trivia says that the average human takes about 9 odd seconds to tie his shoelaces. In those few seconds, Usain Bolt canters past his fellow racers in the 100 meters. He is the king of cool, the fastest man on the planet. He has danced, waved, jogged and smiled to the finish line on many breathtaking occasions. At times, you wonder how he covers the shortest distance with the longest of gaps with such effortless ease.

At the Beijing Olympics, Bolt was ahead of the silver medallist by 2 impossible meters. He could have cracked open a bottle of champagne and lit a cigar on his way to the finish line. Today, he is not as fast as he used to be in 2008-9. But he’s still faster than the rest. And that’s the mastery he exhibits over his art.

Unlike other sport stars, Bolt doesn’t hog your screen time throughout the year. A mere 9 seconds is all he offers you in twelve months. And the impact he has – on your imagination and your dropped jaws – for the rest of the year, are legendary. At 29, with six Olympic gold medals behind him, Bolt is ready for Rio. This could be his swansong. A blisteringly inspiring sonnet on speed, only he could compose.

Agassi, a Rockstar among Champions!

Circa 1988. “He’s the tonic that America needs!” screamed a billboard in the US. Well, he sure was. At the French Open that year, the wily Mats Wilander got a taste of Agassi’s talent – rare and precocious to the core. Andre Agassi, with his streaked long hair, bright tees and denim shorts, was an anomaly in the tennis pantheon. A prodigious talent and a phenomenal entertainer, Agassi was a sort of psychedelic adrenaline that a jaded tennis world needed. 

While he rode the crest of a wave, winning the major Slams in the early 90s, his career slumped to the shore between the mid to late 90s. And who would have thought he would come back so powerfully once again. Between ’99 and ’03, he was back in business, winning a slew of Slams.

Watching him play was like watching the mercurial Jimi Hendrix at work. Each of those shots seemed effortlessly pure, polished for hours and delivered with raw precision. A magical offspring of faultless timing and pitch-perfect technique. And like Hendrix’s Voodoo Child, Agassi was a wild one - a man with a rocker soul who struck an intimate chord with the fans of his generation.