'Please pay attention to Chinese track and field. I think we Chinese can unleash a yellow tornado on the world.' This illustrious line, engraved in the annals of sporting history, was spoken at the 2004 Athens Games by a jubilant Liu Xiang after he became the first Chinese man to win an Olympic gold in the 110-metres hurdles.
Chinese sport had not only stood up, it had out-sprinted and out-jumped the powerhouse athletes and nations of the day. His win ushered in a new era for Chinese sport and whispered promises about China's second coming in four years times at the 2008 Beijing Games were heard on the winds that swirled in the wake of his Greek trail blaze.
Liu, the son of a truck driver and a pastry cook, was suddenly cast as a portent of a nation awaking and growing powerful. He was China, and China owned him.
But then came a bitter blow - a cruel twist to the story line that only sport can deliver. In front of a bewitched home crowd in the Bird's Nest, the boy who would be king pulled up short during China's golden summer of sport, writhing in agony.
All of us in the Nest gasped. Seconds earlier, the stadium was a hive of cheering and worship - and then it fell momentarily silent, paralysed by shock before issuing a huge groan as Liu limped down the tunnel. But he trained and trained and learned from his experiences, intent on making amends on another Summer Olympic day. 'I feel more relaxed in London than I did in Athens or Beijing ... I have been through so many major races, I know how to adjust myself mentally and how to deal with distractions from outside. I'm now enjoying the Olympics,' Liu said, tempting fate.
The curse of Achilles struck again. He crashed on to the London 2012 track after striking the first hurdle and watched helplessly as his historic career came to a halt.