At the medal ceremony for the men’s javelin on Wednesday, a capacity crowd at the Olympic Stadium heard a tune familiar to their national anthem.But, as the flag was raised, the Finns realised two things — that the Estonian national anthem sounds similar to the Finnish anthem, and that they had failed to win a single medal at javelin. Javelin had fetched them maximum of their medals in the Olympics.The crowd — only a day ago, they were going frantic with ‘Tero is our hero’ chants — did rise to their feet in honour of Estonian Andrus Varnik, the gold winner with an 87.17-metre fourth-round effort, but, they could not come to terms with the fact that Tero Pitkamaki had failed to deliver. He was the last hope after 1999 world champion Aki Parvianinen pulled out after an injury in the ninth round.It could be argued that the 22-year-old Tero, with his best of 91.53 metres this season and a sixth placing in all-time list, could have been bore down by the weight of expectations. After qualifying during Tuesday’s rare dry and warm spell, Pitkamaki had expressed a desire for better weather. “I wish tomorrow the wind would calm down,” he had said ahead of the final. “The wind came from the side and turned the javelin down. Otherwise the throw would have been longer.”He also spoke of the pressure and there was a hint of that in the third round when he struggled to stay in the final after lying low at seventh place. His extended stay was thanks to a 79.64m effort that guaranteed him a place in the finals.To date, they have nine Olympic gold medals at javelin throwing. Occasional hiccups notwithstanding, the sport had been producing champs without fail.The Finnish way of throwing born with Matti Jarvinen, considered the king of javelin in the 1930s, is something unique. The modern-day throwing could be the result of finesse the Finns have achieved, thanks to technology support. But even otherwise, they have had the natural background of endurance honed by years of cross-country skiing. What a champion needs in this event, as a popular Finnish saying goes, is a born talent purified into sense of rhythm, good mobility and explosiveness.The knowledgeable locals attribute this to a remarkable heritage, thanks to a sleepy country town called Pihtipudas. For years on the town had kept the supply line going. Says Kari Ihalainen, former national coach and a thrower: “We are moulded psychologically that way to cope with the two extremes of the climatic conditions. It also suits our character. When we release the spear we do it with emotion.”And Aki Parvianinen, the latest of those coming from that stable, perhaps forgot the emotional part when he threw the spear, and with it a medal. And it is still hurting the locals.
