Time and again, I have asked Profs Steve Jones and Richard Dawkins and other
experts this: if heredity really is all powerful, how the hell did we go
from the founder of psychoanalysis Sigmund, via Pedigree Chum salesman Sir
Clement, to Chipping Norton Set fixer Matthew in just the three generations?
The obvious and exceedingly grave doubts raised by the family Freud may,
assuming sport is a proxy for all human existence, be dismissed as nothing
more than an admittedly glaring anomaly.
As last Sunday confirmed, top-level sport is not the meritocratic stronghold
some imagine. It is the ultimate expression of elitism, with long-term
chances of success determined the moment sperm and ova meet. You either
inherit the right genes or you do not, and there is next to nothing to be
done about that.
Some will cleave stubbornly to the belief that environment is king, and that
being raised in the household of a sports star means being encouraged and
expertly tutored in a game almost from infancy. This doubtless plays a part.
But without necessarily being a qualified actuary, I will categorically
state that the odds against five participants in one Test match having
sprung from international cricketing loins are astronomical enough to remove
any doubt that the gene pool is
guv’nor.
We see this clearly across the sporting spectrum. While you may very well cite
as the textbook case the darts player Aaron Monk, son of affable arrowsman
Colin, there are more obscure examples than that. Muhammad Ali’s daughter,
Laila, was a fine boxer, and in 2001 beat Smokin’ Joe Frazier’s girl, Jackie
Frazier-Lyde, by way of majority decision.
Golf boasts Old Tom Morris and his confusingly nicknamed son, Young Tom
Morris, and more recently Masters champion Craig Stadler and his son Kevin.
The highlight among so many moments to treasure in England’s glorious
Wembley draw with Ireland on Wednesday, meanwhile, was Frank Lampard Jnr’s
deft equaliser.
For some reason, the primacy of genetics is less apparent in tennis, but this
may soon change. The son and daughter of Steffi Graf and Andre Agassi are 11
and nine respectively, and their parents – winners between them of 30 grand
slam singles titles – claim to be discouraging them from following their
path.
Give the kids a while for adolescent rebelliousness to set in, and we may
expect the most fearsome mixed doubles team of all time at Wimbledon in
2020.
So unfair would their inherent advantage be that the Association of Tennis
Professionals must start thinking about introducing a rule to enable the
umpire – either the versatile Vernon Kay, or the late Robert Robinson from Ask
The Family – to intone “Code violation. Indecently superior DNA. Warning
Mr and Miss Agassi”, while they are knocking up before their first-round
match.