Man has always had a predisposition to record the remarkable, and this is, after all, the highlight generation. But where did this instinct first find a physical imprint for others to follow, and even improve upon?
Let’s remember what life was like for us (well, not exactly us, but you get the drift) thousands of years ago. First, man hunted for survival. They didn’t do sports for entertainment or exercise. They didn’t have television or radio, or even a decent sports section in the Pre-Historic Times. Sports didn’t exist at all. Archery and spear- throwing only existed for practical reasons: to take down some large animal so they could cut it up and eat it.
This was where the transcendent moment came. Some 16,000 years ago, in Lascaux, France (Who would have thought?), a band of hunters encountered what was described as a monster bison. This creature was not the domesticated hunk of beer that Sylvester Stallone slugged in Rocky, or even the Buffalo that they herded in the Wild West. This was a mammoth with horns and an attitude. (And that attitude was "Who’s gonna eat who?")
At any rate, one of these Stone Age hunks, out of icy courage (or monumental idiocy) sliced open the belly of the beast, sending its internal organs trailing to the ground. Incensed (and who wouldn’t be) the King Kong bison gored the gallant dimwit, taking him to Hades at the same time. Nevertheless, the deed was far too large to be ignored. A cave painting was done, in what is now known as "The Shaft of the Dead Man." This was supposedly man’s first attempt to record anything that remotely resembled a sport.
Beyond that, there is really very little clarity about heroics, until you dig into Greek history. There, you will find out about the exploits of Milo (probably as great a justification for an Olympian drink as any), whose daily diet supposedly consisted of 40 pounds of bread and meat and eight quarts of wine. (Now where was that bison?) Milo supposedly hoisted a bull onto his shoulders (there you go, same species) and galloped around the Olympic stadium, showing off his strength. Then, as if things weren’t humiliating enough for the unsuspecting creature, he killed it and ate it. All by himself. That day.
The first woman so mentioned in recorded Greek history (and remember, they thought that men were superior for some strange reason), was a woman named Kallipateira. This widow wanted to watch her son, Poseidoros, compete, but women were banned from watching men compete in sports (which would be unthinkable today). So Kallipateira disguised herself as her son’s coach—just how is unclear—and gained entry. However, she became so excited about his winning that she jumped into the air and "inadvertently exposed herself," a historic version of Connie and Carla. But, to a certain extent, some members of society owe her a debt of gratitude, because, thereafter, it was decreed that all coaches–like all athletes–would be required to strip naked before entering the stadium.
And to think that we fuss about gender testing.
Of course, who can discuss athletic achievement without mentioning Hercules and Theseus? As the first sportswriter, Pindar, writes, King Cercyon was a tyrant who would wrestle and kill any Greek who entered his kingdom. (This was before the United States or England had any secret agents to do that for them.) So, naturally, they sent Theseus after him. Theseus, as was written "lifted him up by the knees and… dashed him headlong into the ground." Needless to say, Cercyon was literally history.
Most American sports, though, did not exist until after the United States’ Civil War more than two hundred years ago. In the 1840’s, a game called "football" was played all over the country, but everyone pretty much made up their own rules. It was only with the advent of the printed page (particularly the newspaper) that a certain uniformity, organization and hence, a solid fan base, started to build.
And then it gets complicated.