Column: The Olympian told he'd never walk again

PARIS — All that stuff about the Olympic ideal, how it's all about taking part, not winning, can often seem like so much hot air, rendered hopelessly quaint and outdated by the ultra-competitive and mercenary world of modern sport. Until, that is, you speak to Kieran Behan.

Ireland's first gymnast to qualify for an Olympic Games is a vaulting, somersaulting advertisement for believing in the bright side of life, for picking yourself up, dusting yourself off and starting all over again.

Should headliners like Michael Phelps or Usain Bolt spot his tousled, reddish hair and size XXL grin at breakfast in the Olympic village this July, they'd be well advised to pull up a chair, because Behan has an amazing story.

Had the 22-year-old listened to his doctors, he might still be in a wheelchair, unable to walk, not training 30 hours a week on the acrobatic routines he'll perform at the London Games. Behan has no illusions: He's not a favorite for gold. But his tale of triumph over adversity is tough to beat.

It starts with what should have been a routine operation to remove a benign, golf ball-sized tumor from Behan's left thigh when he was aged 10. The surgical staff, he explains patiently, didn't regularly check the tourniquet on his leg while he was anesthetized, leaving him with "severe nerve damage" that caused "excruciating pain" if someone so much as brushed against the damaged limb.

Not for the last time, Behan confounded doctors who "told me I was never going to walk again, let alone do gymnastics."

"It was a long old road," he says matter-of-factly of the 15 months he took to recover.

Then, back to the gym. As a kid, glued to the 2000 Sydney Games, Behan had told his dad, Philip, and mum, Bernie, that he wanted to become an Olympian.

"To get some energy out of me, stop me climbing the curtains and the door frame," they steered their bouncing ball of a boy toward gymnastics. The variety of moves — "there's hundreds of skills that you can learn" — instantly appealed.

"I loved it as soon as I did it," he says. "It's very thrill-seeking, as well. I mean, I just love to fly around, really, and jump about."

But, at age 12, came what Behan calls his "freak accident." Doing handstands on the high bar, he slipped off and whacked his head.

"Took a hell of a hit," he says. "It knocked everything silly."