Athletes take a back seat. You've earned enough glory and medals to keep you going for another four years.
There are others who deserve a brief stint in the sun, for they too can run a marathon, jump hurdles, do twists and pikes mid-air and thrill the audience with their brilliance.
I'm referring to the wine industry. Not to the winemakers, however, although they too perform amazing feats, but they already get plenty of accolades.
This time it's a gong for the wine writers, the men and women who taste, rate, define and describe wine day after day, year after year. Sometimes they have to sample hundreds of wines in a day - sniff, sip and spit over and over again.
This may not seem like a chore to the rest of us but, in fact, requires considerable fortitude and is just the beginning of a gruelling regime.
The real challenge is committing that vinous experience to paper, that is, capturing the wine's aromas, bouquets, undertones, overtones, nuances, complexity, mouth feel, palate, nose, grip, balance, weight and body in words. These are all the essential characteristics that determine if you and I will enjoy the wine the next time we pop a cork or unscrew a cap.
Flip through any wine mag and you will be amazed by their prowess.
Take this for example: Somewhat feral on pouring, this had some meaty, sweaty aromas which morphed into mealy, nougat, roast hazelnut and white peach with airing. That's the descriptor for a chardonnay.
What about this one: It opens the batting with mulchy, stemmy, whole-bunch ferment aromas plus leathery oak derived scents evolving into smoky, earthy and dark cherry-plum aromas. That's a pinot noir.
Or this one: A long chalky and particularly elegant wine whose complex meaty, ethereal bouquet of blackberries, blueberries, raspberries and cassis reveals a profound but balanced presence of underbrush and briar, cloves, cinnamon and white pepper. The writer tosses in a few dark plums, bittersweet chocolate, a creamy, chewy mouth feel and leathery, meaty undertones. Without a doubt, a sparkling shiraz.
And then there is sauvignon blanc. It is variously described as cat's piss and sweaty armpit, horse blanket and wet dog, mousy and barnyard, sometimes with slightly more appealing gooseberry, asparagus or cut grass nuances thrown in.
These descriptors are truly an art form. And I am not being flippant, I am mightily impressed.
Being partial to a glass or three myself, I have laboured to detect the flavours in my wine, especially when they are all crammed into one bottle.
I sniff the wine, swirl it around my mouth (rarely do I spit) then swallow it in lingering gulps. But the delights of leather, white pepper, wet dog and sweaty armpit continue to evade me.
In truth, it is a very subjective matter; no two scribes will detect the same combinations in any one wine.
And, anyway, what is one man's milk chocolate may be a woman's buttered toast.
I marvel at their creativity and extreme sensitivity to the wines that I simply drink and enjoy. There's no bronze or silver medal for these contestants; it's a gold medal performance every time.
Jeni Harvie is an escapee from Sydney's media madness. And she couldn't be happier.
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