There are moments -- a precious few -- when sport transcends nationalism, when it goes beyond religious, racial or cultural divisions and gives us a true demonstration of its purity and meaning.

Derek Redmond being helped across the finish line by his father at the Barcelona Olympics, is one such example. Only the coldest heart would have been untouched by the sight of one man turning a personal tragedy into a defining image of the Olympic spirit. In the minute or so that it took for Derek and his father to complete the journey, they became the very embodiment of Baron de Coubertin’s ideal.

Eric Moussambani’s torturous 100m swim at the Sydney Olympics did likewise. Here was a man who had overcome tremendous adversity to compete and represent his nation at the highest level. It wasn’t his performance that earned our respect, it was his passion, commitment and courage. The same courage and inner strength that is exhibited by marathon runners, well past the point of exhaustion, painfully fighting off the support of others to finish the race under their own power.

Sadly, these moments are all too rare, and we are left with the more commonplace impact of sport on our daily lives. That is not to say that it doesn’t have the power to unite us, just that it does it on a different scale.

I learnt first hand the unifying properties of sport when I recently penned an article having a bit of a go at cyclists. To me, the article was inoffensive and had a little fun while trying to also deliver a serious road-safety message. I was quite shocked at the response it provoked but, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have been. To Australians in particular, sport is a way of life. We define ourselves as a nation by our performances on the sports field. Our national heroes are as often sports stars as they are from all other walks of life combined.

The intriguing thing about sport supporters is that they rarely hold a grudge. Fans of opposing football clubs who will spit venom at each other all season will later forget their emnity and stand shoulder to shoulder in support of the national cricket team. These same fans will then be at loggerheads again in support of their favourite brand of motor vehicle in touring car racing.

So what is it about sport that evokes these strange and often conflicting responses? Is it that it appeals to our most primitive urges, the desire to belong to a tribe? Is it the security and safety of the group that allows us experience the thrill of battle, another primitive urge, with little chance of harm?

I'm buggered if I know, these are questions for the bean-bag brigade (social workers and psychologists) to ponder. The important thing is that we love our sport and that it remains an essential part of how we, as a society, interact with each other.

As long as there is sport, there is hope for us all.