We have survived the Alice Springs Masters Games and I’m now back at my computer. The
Masters Games are kind of like a mini Olympics for old (er) people. Over 5000 athletes over the age of 35 competed at 33 different sports over the past 7 days.
Dave competed in several of the cycling events and I served as a volunteer ambassador. We all need to bloom where we’re planted; he looks very cute in those tight little biking shorts and I’m quite accomplished at smiling, schmoozing and chatting.
The entire town turns into a rocking party for the week but it’s about much more than all night partying, late night karaoke and dancing on the tables (none of which we took part in – really!). Dubbed the “Friendly Games”, there was an inspiring sense of sportsmanship and camaraderie. The phrase “a good time was had by all” can’t begin to describe the last week. Dave met a racing rancher that wanted to know where he got his “Beef it’s what’s for dinner” cycling jersey. We chatted with an 83 year old man that won a silver medal for the half marathon (they have separate age brackets). I talked to someone who was competing in his 12th Alice Springs Masters Games (which are held every other year). I got drenched by a blue haired man with Super Soaker because I didn’t have any money in my pocket to donate to the Breast Cancer Foundation. Each member of that particular soccer team had committed to raising $100 in donations each day before they could drink any beer. It was noon, I had left my purse in the car and they were obviously thirsty because they had resorted to sticking people up with water pistols and demanding donations. Fortunately you dry quickly here in the desert!
As Dave and I left the closing ceremony concert Saturday night we struck up a conversation with a group of not so young ladies that had won enough medals that they clanged as they walked. I was a bit concerned about these little old ladies walking very far in the dark, so asked if they needed a ride to their hotel. They giggled and said no thanks, they were staying just down the block at the youth hostel and were headed back to share a bottle of wine with their new young German friends. The people I met from around Alice and across the country are the true essence of Australia. They had come together in the name of fun and used sports as the excuse. The longer I live here, the more I think my own country could learn from Australia.
Here’s a few pictures taken at the opening ceremonies parade of athletes:
These are the ones that drenched me.
The Senoritas netball team was accused of stealing another teams banner but nothing was ever proven.
Just incase your wondering, the “touch” sign is a reference to touch football
In Australia, the word root is slang for an activity that we only do in private and generally don’t discuss in public.
Now that’s a fair dinkum Aussie!
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