Dave Zirin | The Nation

South Africa’s Oscar Pistorius competes in the 400-meter semifinals heat, Sunday, August 5, 2012. (AP Photo/Matt Slocum)

Call these Olympics “a tale of two Blade Runners.” Blade Runner was of course the classic 1982 Ridley Scott film about a dystopic future in the Los Angeles of 2019. Twenty twelve Olympic London is giving Mr. Scott’s vision a run for it’s money. Away from the high-def cameras and soft panning shots of Big Ben at dusk is a city that’s making Blade Runner look quaint. Not even the fevered minds of Scott and author Philip K. Dick imagined surveillance drones, gunships and surface-to-air missiles in residential neighborhoods.

At every event where the fist-raising, 1968 Olympic protester John Carlos speaks, he always remembers with respect the silver medalist on that platform, the great Australian sprinter Peter Norman. On that fateful day, Norman wore a patch in solidarity with gold medal winner Tommie Smith and Carlos, and he paid a terrible price upon returning home. Even though Norman was white, or maybe because Norman was white, he became a pariah for daring to stand up for human rights. As Carlos says, “Never forget that there was a time that Australia was as bad as South Africa in terms of its racial policies.” He’s right. At the time there were laws explicitly aimed to dehumanize the indigenous Australian—often referred to as the aboriginal—population.

Today, it’s still the third rail of Australian politics to claim pride and solidarity with the nation’s indigenous people. Damien Hooper is finding this out the hard way. Hooper is an Olympic boxer making major waves both in and out of the ring. The light heavyweight is now a threat to win gold after dispatching highly touted US boxer Marcus Browne. He’s also a threat to be sent home by the Australian Olympic Committee. Before fighting Browne, the 20-year-old’s ring attire included a black T-shirt emblazoned with the Aboriginal Flag. Hooper, who is of indigenous ancestry, knew that he was breaking the Olympics “no politics” rule, which states that you can represent only your country or approved corporate sponsors. (Worth noting that these corporate sponsors include politically neutral entities like Dow Chemical, British Petroleum and McDonalds.)

After the bout, Hooper had no regrets saying, “What do you reckon? I’m Aboriginal. I’m representing my culture, not only my country but all my people as well. That’s what I wanted to do and I’m happy I did it. I was just thinking about my family and that’s what really matters to me. Look what it just did—it just made my whole performance a lot better with that whole support behind me. I’m not saying that at all that I don’t care (about a possible sanction), I’m just saying that I’m very proud of what I did.”

So much for that shared “Anglo Saxon heritage.” Mitt Romney is getting roasted across the British press and political establishment for arriving on the shores of the United Kingdom armed with a critique of London’s capacity to host the 2012 Olympic Games. In a moment displaying a political ear made of the finest tin, Romney told NBC’s Brian Williams, “It’s hard to know just how well it will turn out. There are a few things that were disconcerting: the stories about the private security firm not having enough people, supposed strike of the immigration and customs officials, that obviously is not something which is encouraging.”

Now newspapers and politicians from across the political spectrum are making Mitt Romney look less presidential and more like a well-coiffed punching bag. The last time an American has been beaten so badly by Brits, Bob Fitzsimmons was knocking the stuffing out of Jack Dempsey.

Of all the insults he endured in the press, none is quite as memorable as the Daily Mail headline, “’Devoid of charm, offensive and a ‘wazzock’: Romney’s disastrous day in London after saying he didn’t know if Olympics would be a success.” (A “wazzock” is “an idiot” or a “daft person” in Brit-speak.)

At 9 this morning, a crime took place masquerading as a farce. NCAA President Mark Emmert, a man who in 2010 called Joe Paterno “the definitive role model of what it means to be a college coach,” levied a series of unprecedented sanctions against the football program Paterno built, the Penn State Nittany Lions. Emmert determined that the entire program had to suffer because of the role the late Coach Paterno, along with other leading school officials, played in covering the tracks of serial pedophile Jerry Sandusky. That collective suffering will mean a $60 million fine, a four-year post-season ban and the vacating of all wins from 1998–2011. He said piously, “Programs and individuals must not overwhelm the values of higher education.” It’s not “the death penalty,” also known as the end of the football program, but it’s life without the possibility of parole.

Emmert sounds righteous. He’s also dead wrong. His decision will of course gut Penn State athletics. It will also create a siege mentality among PSU alumni causing a rush of donations that, I bet, will make up the difference in a week. It’s a farcical public relations move that distracts the public from actually holding to account those responsible for protecting Sandusky. Former FBI director Louis Freeh had said that the root of the problem was the “culture of reverence” for football. Penn State did more to confront this culture of reverence by taking down their statue of Joe Paterno on Sunday than Mark Emmert did today. If anything, Emmert strengthened that culture of reverence by choosing to grab the spotlight and bathe the NCAA in its saintly glow. But that’s not the only reason Mark Emmert’s decision should be opposed. That’s just the farce. We also have the crime.

Today marked a stomach-turning, precedent-setting and lawless turning point in the history of the NCAA. The punishment levied by Emmert was nothing less than an extra-legal, extrajudicial imposition into the affairs of a publicly funded campus. If allowed to stand, the repercussions will be felt far beyond Happy Valley.