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A culture of 'sus' Rumored Olympic drug use has its own slang term
Probably you are not familiar with the term "sus," as in "She's very sus," or "What he did is really sus." Sus is a shortened version of the word "suspicious," and so far as I know, sus is only used in Olympic circles. Indeed, it's a fascinating commentary on how much cynicism there is amongst Olympians that a short slang version of a three-syllable word has naturally developed. No one knows how much drug use there is in the Olympics, except, of course, that "everybody does it except me." Surely it is common in most marquee sports -- virtually all those that involve strength or endurance. So overwhelming is the perception that drugs sustain most Olympic athletes, that it really doesn't matter how much the well is poisoned. Almost every record and every winner is sus. You cannot imagine how depressing it is to be in the Olympic press box after some magnificent performance, only to have half the journalists stand up and laugh that, well, of course, what did you expect, the winner's doped. But, among the cognoscenti, that is the prevailing thought. Ultimately, two widely held assumptions about drug enforcement in the Olympics have grown up. First: under Juan Antonio Samaranch, the International Olympic Committee does not really want to crack down on drugs. If no one is caught, then maybe blissfully ignorant fans, like those watching on NBC, will assume there is no problem. My job is to keep away the elephants. But there are no elephants around here. See, I'm doing a great job. The overseer of the failed IOC drug program has been --unbelievably -- for 33 years, the same man: Prince Alexandre de Merode -- a preening Belgian cipher who is the best ambulatory advertisement we have for the abolishment of royalty. Ah, but the second assumption is that it doesn't really matter whether Prince de Merode or Inspector Clouseau is in charge, because -- wise up -- nothing effective can ever be done to curb doping among athletes. It grows harder and harder to detect the sophisticated new drugs, such as a synthetic version of the kidney-produced hormone EPO, which is the current stimulant of fashion. The IOC says it now has an effective test for EPO that it will use in Sydney. Maybe. But perhaps more significant: How can you expect to penalize drug users when there is a great deal of evidence that a preponderance of people in Olympic sports are quite comfortable being part of the drug culture? Everybody just winks at the extraordinary number of proclaimed asthmatics participating in the Olympics -- because, of course, asthmatics are allowed to take special drugs. Then, on those rare occasions when a prominent athlete somehow screws up his or her drug detection program and actually gets caught, immediately, the athlete's country bemoans the injustice of the system that denies their maligned hero the right to compete. Don't smugly think, either, that this only means small, backwater nations. The United States' own former drug-control administrator, Dr. Wade Exum, has charged that we have regularly ignored positive test results. We may, sooner than we think, have to conclude that we can't force Olympic athletes to be drug-free any more than we could force them to remain amateurs. Never forget a survey taken in 1995, when U.S. athletes were asked: If we could give you a drug that would guarantee you a gold medal, would you take it even if you understood it would kill you within five years? More than half of America's swiftest and strongest said, "Gimme the drug." These commentaries, which appear each Wednesday on National Public Radio's Morning Edition, are posted weekly by CNNSI.com. The opinions expressed here are solely those of the writer.
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