Fairy Tale 5 - A Sporting Chance

Some of the animals were having a dispute about next summer’s sporting calendar.  One of the smaller ones – no-one was quite sure what kind of animal he was, he said he was a rare calvino, but no-one had ever heard of that, they all thought he looked a bit like a quark, but someone else said no-one had ever seen one of those either – anyway, the little calvino thought it would be a good idea if all the different species could each have their own sporting event rather than everyone participating in the same one.  He argued that it was a bit unfair on the smaller animals when – say – the bigger ones were simply bigger and stronger and could easily throw things further or jump higher or whatever.

Someone else – was it one of the giant airas? – said that this was a ridiculous argument because everything evened out in the end.  Did not the smaller animals always win the crawling and creeping events?  The bigger animals never won the manual dexterity events, did they?

The little calvino – dressed in his customary mix of Italian folklore, Greek myth and post-modern fancy – persisted, suggesting that there should be – for example – a ‘squirrelympics’ for the sciuridae (by which he meant the red squirrels, the grey squirrels, chipmunks, marmots and so on).  He conceded that, yes, perhaps a wider variety of rodents could be allowed to participate.  The point was – he continued – that it should be distinct from, say, the sparra’lympics, which would be open to little brown birds, and possibly other small birds, but it would clearly exclude both other types of animal and larger birds, especially the carnivorous ones.

Other possibilities no doubt existed, the calvino insisted.

There was much harrumphing and hubbub, with some creatures trying to formulate arguments against what sounded, actually, like a really good idea, and others wondering what other nifty naming strategies they could come up with that would have some sort of vowel sound followed by ‘-lympics’.

Suddenly there was a crashing of branches and a tearing of undergrowth and the ancient and venerable edgarallen barged its way to the middle of the assembly.

“Enough!” it roared.

Had we all forgotten our history?  This sort of division was the very opposite of good, it said.  Once upon a time - it began explained, once a satisfactory hush has descended and spread – once upon a time the animals had all competed in a single event, and it was the first such event, and it had been labelled ‘A’.

But not everything about that event had been good, so there were some revisions and refinements and much discussion and eventually an agreement.  And that gave rise to event ‘B’.

Yet B, too, needed work!  Is it not impossible, asked the glowering edgarallen, sweeping its haughty and ironic gaze across the assembled menagerie, is it not impossible for the complex to be fully realised in the imagination?  Is it not only through the tempering vicissitudes of trial and error that the truly great can be revealed?

There was a smattering of slightly bewildered but broadly affirmative grumbling at this point.

Only when we reached ‘C’ – the edgarallen resumed – only when we reached C did we retrospectively introduce the –lympics.  A-lympics, B-lympics, C-lympics, he enunciated slowly for those at risk of falling behind.

AND HOW MANY VERSIONS DID WE NEED BEFORE WE ACHIEVED PERFECTION? it roared. HOW MANY?

The cowering beasties began mumbling.  I DIDN’T HEAR YOU.  Their replies became a little louder.  WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? Fifteen, they said.  Fifteen.  THAT’S RIGHT, it yelled.  FIFTEEN.

Only when the animals reached ‘O’, the edgarallen continued, now in a more emollient tone, only then were they satisfied that they had reached the acme, the zenith, the very peak of possibility.

(Yes, yes, a localised fitness peak - it murmured parenthetically, before some smart-arse neo-Darwinian mammal could say it first - but a peak all the same.)

And now – NOW! – it bellowed, now you are thinking that such great work can be undone, fractured, splintered, rent asunder?  No no no no no!! The world may have moved on from those Homeric times when first we reached the mighty and flawless O, but the animal condition is unchanged.  In our genes and in our souls – and at this point it made a point of gazing slowly and carefully into the tiny innards of each and every creature gathered in that fabled enclosure (a process that one can readily appreciate would have taken a not inconsiderable period of time, given the sheer numbers that were there assembled) – in our genes and in our very souls, it re-emphasised, we know the truth, and the truth is that it is only together that we are strong.  We must stay together.

What must we do?  We must stay together, came the mumbled reply.

WHAT MUST WE DO?, it repeated.  We must stay together.

That’s right, the edgarallen concluded.

It gazed at the little calvino, and then at the giant aira.  And then at the little calvino again.  It slowly raised a single eyebrow.

The little calvino nodded, and it was silently and collectively agreed that it was time for tea.

So off they all went.