THE sporting achievements over at the recently concluded Sukma (Sukan Malaysia or Malaysian Games) games may not scale the heights of global achievements but the bedroom romps and sexual shenanigans it has unearthed would have been enough to make Zeus blush.
The Greek God in whose name the first Olympic competition was held long before even our venerable Mandela was born would be turning in his grave when Malaysians, yet again etched another notch in what is already a crowded bedpost.
I am referring of course to the trio of handball athletes who are now facing the prospect of being charged with the heinous crime of rape.
Indeed, if there was a stage where hungry young men and nubile younger women are cooped together for something more than some sporty stimulation, it has to be the Sukma stage – for some apparently, just one big bacchanalian boudoir.
This trio of handball players must have had too much time on their hands – literally; that they decided to indulge in some extra time off court activity. Either they were eliminated too early and failed to make progress beyond the early rounds or simply they were not stretched enough by their opponents in the real field of play. A superfluous overflow of testosterone supply, you might suggest.
Either way, they directed their excess energies on a female team member – who by all accounts was not a fellow competitor but an integral part of the team entourage – and proceeded to have their way with her.
BOOZY BAIT
What made their act despicably premeditated and wantonly reckless was the fact they had plied her with booze to ensure her compliance through mental and physical incapacity and therefore unable to put up any resistance.
Their dastardly deeds was uncovered when the victim regained enough of her faculties to realise that she had been physically and sexually mauled. It was left to Sports Minister Khairy Jamaludin to face the media and announce the deed was done and that no stone will be left unturned in bringing the culprits to book.
And the culprits? They are lucky as under Malaysian law, at 19 and under, they are still considered minors. If this were big bad U S of A, they’d be considered fully adult to be hauled before the courts in bright orange straightjackets and have all four limbs shackled in ball and chain. Bring me this bit of Americanism anytime.
This sporting aberration however is not the first and definitely not be the last in the transgressions linking sports and sex; here in Malaysia or out there in bad foreign lands.
I blame it on the promoters. Just look at boxing or wrestling. It is still indelibly imprinted in my brain the sight of skimpily-clad leggy models sashaying and swinging their derriere while prancing about in the boxing ring holding up oversized placards indicating which round the fight was at. As if the boozy spectators wanted to be reminded of where they were; or even cared!
SPORTS TROPHY GALS
How about motorsport – what do kebaya-clad local lasses got by way of any meaningful contribution to make towards the in-car performance of the over-revved drivers? Holding up umbrellas or pulling out the Kleenex to wipe their sweaty brows could easily be left to Jean or even Bernie when absolutely necessary!
On the world stage, there have been instances where coaches and trainers abused their power and position of trust by taking advantage of the vulnerability of their charges. Many swimming coaches have been caught sexually abusing their young protégés. Their constant presence gives them a hold that is at times even more intimate than that of a parent.
Then again, every successful sportsman almost always has a trophy girlfriend coquettishly trailing behind in outsized designer shades complemented by the obligatory Birkin bag. Their role? Certainly not as sparring partners on some tennis courts, more like some dutiful bolster in the Jock’s giant bed!
While we are on the subject of sports and sex, perhaps there can be no stage more fertile than the brash flash stage of American in-field or on-court endeavour. This is the land where pom pom girls are as professional as the armour-clad gladiators in centre field. Watch how the cheerleaders stretch, wiggle or kick in perfect unison, their faces light up in a perpetual white-teeth smile.
Perhaps then it would be wrong to lump such sideshows as mere eye-candy as no one who watches their subsidiary performance will go away doubting the degree of skill, stamina energy and training that went into the slick showy performance. Personally, I love it.
It is the men on court however whose chest beating, fist-pumping and wild celebrations become feats that their legions of ardent followers consume and copy. Women look to bulging biceps and tingling triceps on show as a measure of manly prowess promising untold hedonistic pleasures. NBA star Magic Johnson memorably said he was obligated to make his female fans happy – he simply could not disappoint the legions of shrieking girls who literally throw themselves at his size 14 sponsored sneakers!
Where America goes, others follow. We have our fair share of sporty sexual scandals and certainly cannot claim to hold the moral high ground. There were cases that went all the way to court and verdicts delivered – albeit some overturned on appeal.
So perhaps until the time when we find a happy compromise – a Sex Olympics? Maybe then the randy handball exponents now sweating it out in some remand facility will then find a suitable stage for their prodigious peccadilloes.
RAZAK Chik finds it hard to believe that for some, their sporting idea of sexy sport stars are pot-bellied darts players, albeit with the supreme ability to execute a 9-dart finish.
The Greek God in whose name the first Olympic competition was held long before even our venerable Mandela was born would be turning in his grave when Malaysians, yet again etched another notch in what is already a crowded bedpost.
I am referring of course to the trio of handball athletes who are now facing the prospect of being charged with the heinous crime of rape.
Indeed, if there was a stage where hungry young men and nubile younger women are cooped together for something more than some sporty stimulation, it has to be the Sukma stage – for some apparently, just one big bacchanalian boudoir.
This trio of handball players must have had too much time on their hands – literally; that they decided to indulge in some extra time off court activity. Either they were eliminated too early and failed to make progress beyond the early rounds or simply they were not stretched enough by their opponents in the real field of play. A superfluous overflow of testosterone supply, you might suggest.
Either way, they directed their excess energies on a female team member – who by all accounts was not a fellow competitor but an integral part of the team entourage – and proceeded to have their way with her.
BOOZY BAIT
What made their act despicably premeditated and wantonly reckless was the fact they had plied her with booze to ensure her compliance through mental and physical incapacity and therefore unable to put up any resistance.
Their dastardly deeds was uncovered when the victim regained enough of her faculties to realise that she had been physically and sexually mauled. It was left to Sports Minister Khairy Jamaludin to face the media and announce the deed was done and that no stone will be left unturned in bringing the culprits to book.
And the culprits? They are lucky as under Malaysian law, at 19 and under, they are still considered minors. If this were big bad U S of A, they’d be considered fully adult to be hauled before the courts in bright orange straightjackets and have all four limbs shackled in ball and chain. Bring me this bit of Americanism anytime.
This sporting aberration however is not the first and definitely not be the last in the transgressions linking sports and sex; here in Malaysia or out there in bad foreign lands.
I blame it on the promoters. Just look at boxing or wrestling. It is still indelibly imprinted in my brain the sight of skimpily-clad leggy models sashaying and swinging their derriere while prancing about in the boxing ring holding up oversized placards indicating which round the fight was at. As if the boozy spectators wanted to be reminded of where they were; or even cared!
SPORTS TROPHY GALS
How about motorsport – what do kebaya-clad local lasses got by way of any meaningful contribution to make towards the in-car performance of the over-revved drivers? Holding up umbrellas or pulling out the Kleenex to wipe their sweaty brows could easily be left to Jean or even Bernie when absolutely necessary!
On the world stage, there have been instances where coaches and trainers abused their power and position of trust by taking advantage of the vulnerability of their charges. Many swimming coaches have been caught sexually abusing their young protégés. Their constant presence gives them a hold that is at times even more intimate than that of a parent.
Then again, every successful sportsman almost always has a trophy girlfriend coquettishly trailing behind in outsized designer shades complemented by the obligatory Birkin bag. Their role? Certainly not as sparring partners on some tennis courts, more like some dutiful bolster in the Jock’s giant bed!
While we are on the subject of sports and sex, perhaps there can be no stage more fertile than the brash flash stage of American in-field or on-court endeavour. This is the land where pom pom girls are as professional as the armour-clad gladiators in centre field. Watch how the cheerleaders stretch, wiggle or kick in perfect unison, their faces light up in a perpetual white-teeth smile.
Perhaps then it would be wrong to lump such sideshows as mere eye-candy as no one who watches their subsidiary performance will go away doubting the degree of skill, stamina energy and training that went into the slick showy performance. Personally, I love it.
It is the men on court however whose chest beating, fist-pumping and wild celebrations become feats that their legions of ardent followers consume and copy. Women look to bulging biceps and tingling triceps on show as a measure of manly prowess promising untold hedonistic pleasures. NBA star Magic Johnson memorably said he was obligated to make his female fans happy – he simply could not disappoint the legions of shrieking girls who literally throw themselves at his size 14 sponsored sneakers!
Where America goes, others follow. We have our fair share of sporty sexual scandals and certainly cannot claim to hold the moral high ground. There were cases that went all the way to court and verdicts delivered – albeit some overturned on appeal.
So perhaps until the time when we find a happy compromise – a Sex Olympics? Maybe then the randy handball exponents now sweating it out in some remand facility will then find a suitable stage for their prodigious peccadilloes.
RAZAK Chik finds it hard to believe that for some, their sporting idea of sexy sport stars are pot-bellied darts players, albeit with the supreme ability to execute a 9-dart finish.
