China turns the Games into its own gold factory

Take a left out of the Main Press Center, walk down the street and watch the gold flow to China.

Walk into the National Indoor Stadium two blocks away and see the tiniest, youngest-looking group of Olympic athletes ever beat the more-experienced Americans in the women's team-gymnastics final.

Stroll next door to the Water Cube, during the non-Michael Phelps portion of the program, and see the phenomenal Chinese men's 3-meter springboard synchronized-diving pair of Wang Feng and Qin Kai rout the field.
They could have done matching cannonballs on their sixth and final dives and still won easily.

China is winning.

Its athletes are following the script written seven years ago, as if this were Broadway, not Beijing.

China is hoarding gold. It had won 17 gold medals entering the late men's individual gymnastics, almost halfway to its golden goal of 40.

Seven years ago, when it was awarded the Games, China targeted sports such as weightlifting, shooting, diving and gymnastics, sports where mining gold might be easier. It found the athletes and began intensive training.

Four years ago, the plan already was working. China won the second-most golds at the 2004 Athens Games, finishing ahead of Russia.

I've never been a fan of medal counts. The Games, to me, are as much about the journey of Tacoma breaststroker Megan Jendrick, finding a way to qualify for another final in 2008 after missing the Olympics in 2004.

The Games are about an Iraqi sprinter, Dana Hussein Abdul-Razzaq, earning the opportunity to escape the horror in her country, crouch into the starting blocks and run one race against the world.

But China has staked its honor on these Games. It seems as if so much of its self-esteem is tied up in gold.

Not silver. Not bronze. Just gold.

The Chinese government will pay its athletes bonuses for gold medals. It has been reported that gold-medal winners on the table-tennis team will make $25,000 in bonuses.

Still, you have to wonder about the price China is paying."The Chinese women's gymnastic team made history today," coach Lu Shanzhen said, "showing the world that China's women's gymnastics is the greatest."

It's also the youngest and the tiniest. The average size of the Chinese gymnasts is 4 foot 9 and 77 pounds. The average American women's gymnast is 3 ½ inches taller and 30 pounds heavier.

"We have no proof," U.S. coach Martha Karolyi said sarcastically of the Chinese gymnasts, "but one of the little girls has a missing tooth."

There is almost a Cold War feel to China's pursuit of gold. For this country, these are the turn-back-the-clock Games, reminiscent of the big Soviet bear of the 1960s and '70s. There are the same successes and the same suspicions, the same factorylike sports-training institutes.

To answer critics who say their gymnasts are too young, China has produced passports proving each is at least 16, the required minimum age.

But the secretive nature of Chinese sports makes coaches like Karolyi justifiably suspicious.

It has been raining gold for China. Take away the amazing Phelps' five, and China has a 12-gold-medal lead over the United States after five-plus days of competition.
At the Water Cube, Wang and Qin were spectacular. Except for the different hairstyles, it was like watching one man diving alongside a mirror. They were that perfect. After their final dive, they wrapped each other in a long embrace on the pool deck as another sellout crowd screamed its appreciation.

"We performed very well today," Wang said. "We've coordinated for more than 20 months. That's all for this event. This gold is so important to my life."
It's now a world where silver is considered failure.

Chinese swimmer Zhang Li won a silver earlier this week in an impressive race in the 400-meter freestyle, but reacted without joy. He never smiled during the medal ceremony.

And when the winner, Korean Taehwan Park, pulled him into the pictures that the photographers demanded after the medal ceremony, Zhang sadly stared at their lenses with his disappointment.

Silver doesn't spend.

What happens to Zhang after the Games?
China has staked its reputation on success in these Olympics. This is its chance to slake the insecurities built during the isolationist years of the Cultural Revolution.

Instead of wilting under this enormous pressure, many of the Chinese have embraced it, and made it their home-court advantage.

In the National Indoor Stadium Wednesday morning, the fans chanted, "Chi-na. Chi-na. Chi-na." When veteran Cheng Fei fell off the balance beam, the crowd gasped as if it were watching a Wallenda walk across a canyon.

It erupted lustily on every Chinese dismount.

Finally, after American Alicia Sacramone's second tragic mistake — falling at the end of a tumbling run — practically assured the Chinese the gold, Deng Linlin, Jiang Yuyuan and Cheng put on a tumbling show for the home folks that had fans shrieking their approval. Their floor exercises almost felt like an end-zone dance.
China is chasing gold in Beijing and celebrating like it's the arrival of a great new era.