THE VERTIGINOUS rise of Robiel Yankiel Sol in the long jump (category T47) will have to be analyzed as a great achievement, especially after winning the title in the VII Parapan American Games with a world record included.
Talking about a world and Paralympic champion may seem like a success story with no more transcendence than the tremendous merit of achieving it.
But if we consider the fact that the event took place when he was only 20 years old, it adds epic nuances to what many are beginning to see as a feat.
Robiel is seen as an established player when he should still be on the list of promising players. Otherwise… How is it possible that the surprise is that he does not count for victories in each of his competitions?
The extraordinary charisma he has been born with, together with his ability to stretch himself further than everyone else, envelopes whoever is watching his entertaining show.
With what nerve he stands at the end of the track to take off! He asks for applause which he gladly receives, as if that means feeling honored with gratitude. It is a fact, that being there to support him is the payment and not the offering.
He dances on the side of the tent as if he is not facing hardship after two failed attempts. He cheers himself up with a Parapan American record of 7.49 meters as if it were an appetizer. The audacity to give away 20 centimeters on the board and go as far as anyone else is a burden for his rivals who do not compete with him, they admire him.
With that authority, he prepares the master stroke, pushes himself, and risks the tip of his left foot on the razor’s edge… He rises and falls beyond the eight meters marked by the fence behind the pit, opens his hands and the red flag cuts short the celebration. He smiles. He is ready to try again.
At this point, he has only one purpose: to keep jumping. He has set two world records this year and came here to collect another one.
He comes to the fifth jump with overwhelming conviction. He performs the parsimonious rite, expressing for himself the esoteric and mystical discourse of self-motivation with his finger pointing forward. There is not only the sand where he will land, there awaits the future.
It soars like a fragile bird that mocks the 3.2 meters per second of air against it. It challenges it. It evades gravity and moves its legs as if it were running suspended. He has no wings, but if he did, they would help him glide no more than his contortions. He flies.
When he falls he shouts with euphoria, he looks at the marks in a place in the sand that no one else stepped on, as if he knew an uninhabited place. There remains the Parnassus to make poetry with his feet and only he knows how to find it.
He runs with desperation and kneels distantly. He does not share this moment with the public, at least not for now, it is not dedicated to someone who remains in this world. «Grandma I love you» is painted on his face, he blows a kiss between his hands and sends it to heaven for her, where he wants to believe she is jumping for joy looking at him.
Luis Bueno, his blood trainer, his father by adoption, goes and hugs him. This moment is as much his as hers and he acknowledges it.
Then the euphoria and the shock passes and the same smiling and approachable boy leaves the stadium. He converses with the press that besieges him, he also speaks with a champion’s attitude, and he explains the technical ins and outs of the feat.
«I was missing a medal in the Parapan American Games, I am very satisfied because I have achieved it, I am as happy as the record», he says as happy as when he walked the flag through the Mario Recordón Athletic Center, in Ñuñoa.
Then he points to where he knows: «Yes, it is time to say it now, my goal is the eight meters and I am not going to stop until I achieve it», he confesses announcing another jump to the future, that maybe he does not need, because this day he flew to immortality.
