Medals . . . no medals . . . why should it make that much difference? An average participating athlete would do anything to get one, and an average bunch of rapturous rooting spectators would jump out of their skins to see the victory of their hero materialize. 

On the surface, winning a medal, especially the Gold one may look like a sincere childlike joy, demonstrated with radiance of smile, purity of tears and gullibility of an infant, which is OK, but in post-medal period of actual life of an athlete medals are working with tremendous efficiency on every further development of their lives. A medal (functioning in a clearly hierarchical mode – gold, silver, bronze) has a quality of turning a previously obscure person into an instant star – not for just fifteen minutes of fame but for the rest of the remaining years. The warmth of the Olympic medal limelight fondles the medal winner’s body better than any ultra-violate effect for a long time after the lucky event. Medal means to have one’s name written in stone for good in big, medium and small letters — depending on metal value — which absolutely means to be part of history. An Olympic medal is an unequivocal glory out there in the world and a cherished position of a darling of the nation at home. A medal might easily mean a good job and of course the inevitable increase of a winner’s pecuniary power. It could even generate a better chance for a matrimonial luck. Medals win hearts and minds and friendships. They open doors and pave the ways. Medals serve good services! Medals last, not easily getting rusty if at all. They show the winners off and make them magic story tellers for their grand-kids, definitely worthy of emulation. Medals put the owners right into the public eye, leaving them there nestled comfortably forever. To cut it short, an Olympic medal is one of the biggest human dreams coming true — or not coming at all — every four years and changing the life of hundreds of expectant athletes all over the world, having turned themselves into a bundle of nerves, balanced with physical strength and stamina, enough to endure the strain, suggested by a contest. But wait! An Olympic medal also means tons of inevitable sweat and pain, refusal from the delights of one’s personal life, saying No to many secular pleasures and pastime, permanent self-denial and a bitterly earned triumph of will-power over trivial human weaknesses. And mind it, anything short of this forces the medal dreams up into the thick smoke, never to be turned into reality. Medal is not only about God-given talents and gifts. It is more about relentless efforts and unbending perseverance, tireless nonstop work and strong mind, adamant will and readiness to sacrifice, unabated desire of fight to overpower the adversary, getting black-and-blue all over for Motherland’s glory. Am I being read correctly? If yes, then here goes the question, put forward not rhetorically, but with piercing deliberation: How many Georgian athletes have come to the London Olympic Games bearing all that in mind?