The Fox of France - Chapter 385: The Olympics

The competitions of the Olympics officially commenced from the second day onwards. Unlike the tightly scheduled modern Olympics, due to the limited number of events and participants, the schedule was quite relaxed. For instance, on the first day at the main stadium, only the heats for the 100 meters and 200 meters were scheduled.

As all athletes were self-funded amateurs, relying entirely on their own finances to participate, the number of foreign participants was not significant. However, French athletes, especially those from Paris, could easily travel by train just before the competition and return home immediately afterward, thanks to railway companies offering participating athletes free tickets. This even extended to some lower-class workers, provided their factories approved their leave. Whether the factories approved was hardly a question; the agreement made between the worker-athlete and the factory stipulated that the athlete must compete wearing clothing with the factory’s advertisements.

Initially, Napoleon had entertained the idea of restoring the ancient Olympic tradition of athletes competing in the nude. This was before Pauline raised the request to compete. However, this notion was swiftly rebuked by Lucien. He exclaimed, “Do you have any idea why premium tickets, especially the box seats, sell so well? Because many who buy these tickets do so in pairs! How much ticket revenue would be lost by doing that? Also, the athletes’ attire is merchandise, you know? Pauline has her eyes set on that! And there’s advertising on the clothing, that’s more money… Good Lord, the amount of money involved here, I can’t even keep track! You want to let go of these money-making opportunities for the sake of tradition? Tradition means nothing compared to these lovely coins!”

In the past, Napoleon would have surely retorted, but this time, after hearing Lucien’s opposition, he paused and, surprisingly, admitted to himself that Lucien did have a point.

“Lucien, it was just a passing comment, a joke,” Napoleon remarked.

“Good thing you didn’t go directly to Joseph with such jokes,” retorted Lucien.

Napoleon shivered at that. “Darn it, Joseph! He’s fine with any other jests, but when it comes to money matters, not a bit of humor!”

“Who says so?” countered Lucien. “The same goes for math assignments too, doesn’t it?” Though it had been a while since Joseph assigned any math work, just thinking about it made Lucien feel a chill down his spine.

Of course, the significance of advertising on the athletes’ clothing during the competition was limited since there were no television broadcasts or even photography technology available yet. (In some experimental labs, there had been some research, and even the first photograph had been taken, but the process required around half an hour of exposure time for a single picture. Apart from landscapes, it was almost impractical for anything else.) However, winning a competition allowed these advertisements on their attire to be highlighted through newspaper coverage. Taking a few days off for such an opportunity was undoubtedly profitable.

As a result, the number of Parisian athletes was notably high, almost occupying two-thirds of the entire French delegation, which in turn accounted for two-thirds of the total athletes.

Marie-Henri Beyle signed up for the equestrian event but lacked the funds to purchase expensive purebred horses or spend time practicing on the official course. Like most contestants, he could only use his own horse—”Little Trickster,” which he acquired as it was also nearing retirement, having served in the cavalry. This gray horse was as spry as its name suggested, but it was aging, and it wasn’t known for its speed. Marie-Henri Beyle understood that he and his old horse wouldn’t make it past the heats. Even a mixed Arabian horse used by his classmate’s family for carriage pulling could easily outrun his “Little Trickster” in speed races. Hence, Marie-Henri Beyle opted for the hurdles event. Though “Little Trickster” couldn’t sprint, it was clever enough to complete the hurdles. For an amateur enthusiast like Marie-Henri Beyle, that was more than enough.

However, since the equestrian event hadn’t commenced, Marie-Henri Beyle had time to chat with his classmate, well, the guy named Bousaion, whose family owned the Arabian horse used for carriage pulling. Surprisingly, this guy aspired to become a journalist. Marie-Henri Beyle teased him, “My friend, your dream is good, but journalists need to run exceptionally fast, especially if you aim to interview those social butterflies at the Moulin Rouge. You need to train more!”

Bousaion took his words seriously and earnestly practiced running every day. This time, he signed up for all running events and successfully passed the heats for the 100 meters and 200 meters. So today, Marie-Henri Beyle was at the main venue, seated (having only acquired tickets for that spot), watching his friend’s race.

Today’s event was the heats for the 100 meters. As stopwatches weren’t available yet, the rules for the heats were somewhat different from future norms. Firstly, the groups were drawn by lot, with eight runners in each group, and the top two from each group would advance to the next round. In this scenario, luck in the draw was crucial to advancing to the next stage, unlike the timed competitions of the future.

Bousaion was scheduled later in the day, so he hadn’t run yet. Marie-Henri Beyle watched other races somewhat boredly. Races in this era were markedly different from future Olympics. Firstly, all participants were Caucasian, unlike later times where non-Caucasian athletes were prevalent. Additionally, these participants were truly amateur; many didn’t even have proper sports attire. Several ran in long-sleeved shirts and trousers, leading Marie-Henri Beyle to grow increasingly confident about his potential performance if he were to compete. He believed his friend, Bousaion, watching from the athlete’s rest area, likely shared similar thoughts. Of course, provided he didn’t act foolishly by wearing trousers or high heels for the race.

After two rounds, Marie-Henri Beyle finally heard Bousaion’s name announced over the loudspeaker. He raised his telescope and scanned the starting line, locating his friend in the third lane. He was also in long attire, not the intricate trousers, and certainly no high heels.

However, another runner beside him drew more attention. This individual wore a vest, displaying muscular arms, and a large sun emblem on the chest—clearly, a journalist from the Sun Newspaper. Below, he wore minimal clothing, just a pair of shorts, leaving his robust thighs exposed.

“Oh… why isn’t he wearing anything?” a girl next to Marie-Henri Beyle exclaimed, covering her eyes with one hand while holding a brass telescope in the other.

Marie-Henri Beyle glanced at the girl. She wasn’t particularly pretty and had quite a few freckles on her face. Thus, Marie-Henri Beyle decided to focus his energy on cheering for his friend. Simultaneously, he couldn’t help but think, “From her voice alone, one could have mistaken her for a princess.”

Not only was the Sun Newspaper fellow’s attire odd, but his pre-race rituals were also peculiar. He half-knelt on the track, making Marie-H

enri Beyle think he might start drawing a cross on his chest. However, instead of doing so, he stood up and vigorously dug the ground, swiftly creating two small holes in the coal-dust track.

“What’s he doing? What is this?” the melodious voice sounded again, and Marie-Henri Beyle saw the girl, who had earlier covered her eyes, lifting her telescope once more.

The fellow knelt again, placing both feet into the holes he had dug. This time, Marie-Henri Beyle noticed his shoes were different from everyone else’s. The soles seemed to be made of rubber.

In France at that time, rubber wheels were already in extensive use, and many were making shoe soles from discarded tires. However, these shoes were more refined than the homemade tire soles.

After exchanging gestures with the starting and finishing points, the race was about to start. The referee raised the starting gun, and Marie-Henri Beyle saw a puff of smoke rise from the referee’s hand. Simultaneously, everyone rushed forward.

The Sun Newspaper journalist sprinted the fastest. He shot off like a bullet from a slingshot, instantly pulling ahead by a considerable margin right from the start, leaving everyone a couple of places behind.

“Truly deserving of the Sun Newspaper!” someone nearby shouted, waving a fist in the air.