Loose Translation: “Until the Dawn Rises”. Shachar (Shahar) meaning Dawn in Hebrew.
Last year, we were reading in the paper about Shachar missing out on Dubai, and the debate started. This year, they let Shachar in, so on our side of the dinner table, the debate subsided.
Now that Shachar’s not only in, but playing the tournament of her life, its time to talk about it a little bit more.
One of the reasons for my conversion into diehard sports fan was because of the beauty of its simple reliance on physical skills and brute strength. No focus on culture or knowledge or beauty or anything other than the same skills that every other human being with a physical body possesses. Then we say that it comes down to the socioeconomic factors leading to world class coaching facilities versus Eric the Eel’s African ten foot long swimming pool. Then we counter with the idea that nothing beats raw talent, and see it happen over and over as new kids come to shock us.
The aim of sport is always to unite and reunite, not to divide. The Olympic Games, which everyone in the universe is following at the moment except me who is Australian and doesn’t believe in winter sports other than trying to avoid slipping on ice and breaking any bones, were initiated with the ideology of uniting nations with no considerations.
It’s a crying shame some have forgotten what sport is all about, as the Shachar situation began to escalate.
Our Lady is now playing the tournament of her life because she’s a woman with a goal far beyond that glistening trophy, those always-appreciated ranking points or dare I mention it, that tempting pile of cash at the end. This time, Shachar is doing it for Am Yisrael.
I am debating whether to stay awake for another hour and a half til the match begins and then see if I need to eat my words in case Venus turns up with a secret potion in the tank.
But all I can say now is Shachar will do it – and at this stage, I will be awake Ad Alot HaShachar.
YALLA SHACHAR! KADIMA!