Rugby cheer on Monday night, in the form of the Laureus Team of the Year Award going the way of the Springboks — welcome news for those of us who weren?t able to make the actual awards, and inspiration to sports teams across the planet, striving for better performances. Teams such as Bermuda?s women?s cricket team, all out for 13 on Monday in a Women?s World Cup qualifier in Stellenbosch (ten extras in that total), a target that was hauled in in four deliveries. Definitely scope for Most Improved in the near future, if not best overall team?

The Laureus Awards inspire all sporting individuals, though, myself very much included, and I?ve been trying for some time to at least slip onto the shortlist for Sportsman of the Year. But last week sealed my disillusioned acceptance that I simply won?t make it. An eagle two on the par-four seventh at the Vodacom Championship (after challenging the pro to a closest to the pin for two competition) failed to gain me an entry into the tournament proper, and thus provide me with a platform from which to challenge Tiger; and despite an unbeaten 52 against Gardens Old Boys on Sunday, followed by figures of 5-6 in five overs, the Zimbabwean selectors remain stubbornly incommunicado.

(The more cynical observer may point to the rest of my round at Pretoria Country Club having amounted to a succession of double bogeys and lost balls. Similarly, my modest cricket success may be attributed by similar cynics, to the presence of an aging left-arm spinner bowling straight into the wind while I was at the crease, or to my fifer only the result of pairing Shaoib Akhtar?s run-up with Paul Collingwood?s raw pace. Such conjecture merely underlines the jaded nature of a sporting world where my Laureus Sportsman of the Year aspirations are cruelly struck down before I?ve even hit 30.)

But while Sportsman of the Year is sadly beyond me, Laureus recognition is most certainly not. Making the Bermudan women?s cricket side requires both a new passport and an operation, so I?ll pass, and the other categories offer little solace — with one glaring, sun off the snow exception: Alternative Sportsman of the Year. And my path to glory? Skiing, and the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver.

Of all my favourite sports movies, Cool Runnings, the improbable tale of the Jamaican bobsled team heading to the Winter Olympics, is the one I can watch time and again. It may not have the raw drama of ?Any Given Sunday?, perhaps, or the sporting poetry of ?Fever Pitch? (Hornby?s football original, not the American baseball knock-off), but it?s simple, feelgood sporting triumph on an everyman scale, something we can all identify with. And draw inspiration from?

As I understand it (and my Olympic lore is rustier than it should be with Beijing not far away), every country can send a handful of competitors to the Games, summer or winter, which opens up my opportunity: the Zimbabwean Winter Olympics team. Getting a spot shouldn?t be too hard — the Mashonaland luge squad is in disarray, and Harare has produced criminally few professional ice hockey players — which means all I need to do is master a Winter Olympic sport, and the path to Laureus glory will unfold before me. And as I just happen to be off on my maiden skiing trip in a fortnight, the cosmos is falling into line at just the right time.

I?ve been practicing standing in the slightly constipated stoop that appears to make for polished skiing posture. I?ve been reading tips on Olympic skiing from Eddie the Eagle online. I?ve bought a book on dealing with polar bear attacks (more and more of them are holidaying in the Alps, it appears, and they can get quite temperamental after a couple of beers). And I?ve been sleeping in the kitchen with the fridge open to prepare for conditions. It works for Lewis Pugh, apparently.

All told, then, with that sort of preparation, Olympic motivation, and the fame, fortune and access to the world of celebrity reality television that my Laureus recognition will provide, I?m two weeks in Les Gets away from mastering skiing, and preparing my assault on Vancouver in 2010. And it?s got to work, ?cos it?s that or the Bermudan women?s cricket team, and I really don?t want to have to go under the knife.

  • Big night for golf this Monday past, Compleat Golfer and the South African PGA hosting the annual South African Golf Awards. Richard Sterne nailed Golfer of the Year ahead of Rory Sabbatini (odds on to crack the nod as godfather to Tiger?s next kid), James Kingston officially received the Order of Merit title that guarantees him a spot at Sun City in December, and John Bland received a special thumbs up for playing on Tour for the better part of the 20th century. There?s more golf to come, though: as well as the Telkom PGA Championship, which has a cracking field lined up, the Festival of Golf takes place at Vodaworld. New clubs, new equipment, beer — it?s one big toy shop, and golfing heaven. Open Friday through Sunday — seriously don?t-miss event.

  • If you were tuned in to etv last night for the Liverpool-Inter game, you?ll have noticed Mark Fish as my new studio guest, a stellar addition to the world of punditry. (?Does this now mean that Barnsley are better than Inter Milan?? being the Big Fish?s line of the night.) What you won?t have seen was my producer, Paul Snodgrass (think a diminutive version of Tim Allen?s assistant Al in ?Home Improvement?), cartwheeling round etv HQ is celebration. Being a Liverpool supporter is one of sport?s more arduous tasks these days, hence last night?s jubilation; they may be the most unpredictable lot in the game at the moment, but you can?t fault them for entertainment value. Snodgrass is still a heart attack waiting to happen, though?

  • Contact Dan at dan@metropolis.co.za