It was moments before the eagerly anticipated 200m sprint race. The air was charged with expectation and fear. We had never won the women’s 200m sprint. Deon Hemmings had given us gold in the 400m hurdles, Merlene Ottey had come close in the 200m sprints, copping a silver medal, but that was it.

The entire family had gathered in the living room, the TV was on, at top volume, almost deafening - but who cared. I began wishing that I was in Athens with my Jamaican flag and my own personal cheerleaders – my family – they would be enough.

Mary, my sister, was nearest to the TV, her big eyes looking even bigger. It was as if she was the only one in the room. My nephew Ravon, only eleven, was grinning from ear to ear; it was as though he truly understood the significance of the event.
“We are going to win!” he shouted, repeatedly. Jumping up, moving his legs and arms, pretending to run.

And now the athletes were at their starting blocks, flexing their muscles. She was in lane four and we watched as she moved her head from side to side, forward, backward, shaking hands and legs, a picture of sheer concentration. Finally, poised in their blocks, all eyes were glued to this young woman, Veronica Campbell.

The gun went off, silence descended on the living room as the athletes flew out of their starting blocks. My mouth went dry; for a split second my heart stopped and then immediately took off running again.

My nephew began jumping … “Go Veronica go!” he shouted over and over.

Mary moved closer to the TV, stomping her feet on the floor as if willing Veronica on. My brother, not changing his usual cool demeanour, leaned back on the chair, the corner of his mouth tilted in a half smile.

My eyes went again to the TV not wanting to miss anything. The commentator’s voice was choked with excitement, which only served to heighten our expectations.

Veronica had shown her class early when she powered out of the blocks but now this became more evident as she came off the curve and went into the straight. The American, Allison Felix was on her heels, I could sense the fear in the room, but there was no need, Veronica was unyielding. She was in front heading for home, and then her eyes closed moments before she crossed the line, at 22.05 seconds the clock stopped.

As if on cue, there was uproar throughout the entire community. The anticipation was gone, there were smiles all around the living room, a tight grip on my arm loosened – it was Mary. I could hear the shouts resounding in the community. We expected but could not believe, Veronica had won gold… Jamaica had won gold!