This song of triumph is soothing and moving, why don't we sing as beautifully, all the time?

A great sporting week for the nation, when TV sets momentarily switched from those noisy channels transmitting largely from rural England, to pay attention to something more dignified like athletics.

I do not exclude Gor Mahia and AFC's recent action at the Nyayo Stadium; they, too, displayed their best, and tested first-hand the possibilities of Nairobi governor's famous grass surviving a serious trampling from well-fed men, or his stony kerbs being yanked free.

While still at it, let's salute the devotion of Gor and AFC fans in ensuring their teams win, to invoke Malcom X's much-vaunted phrase, by any means necessary, even if that means a well-aimed stone hurled at an opponent.

After all, football is just a game, and the actual triumph lies in seriously whelming opponents to utter surrender.

At the last check, I heard the city fathers were exploring the prospects of banning the two teams from holding their future matches here, which would prove futile since they are bound to fight wherever they meet.

In any case, what would be the point of exporting a problem elsewhere?

But that's not my problem.

I'm more fascinated by the unanimous support extended to our athletes in Beijing, where we scored a few firsts: Julius Yego earned the country its first gold in javelin; minnow Nicholas Bett brought the country's first gold in 400m hurdles, and "King David" Rudisha returned to his winning ways after a three-year hiatus.

I need not mention Ezekiel Kemboi and other greats whose simple runs always end up in gold; we have become so accustomed to their successful runs, it is when they miss out that they make the headlines.

And Kemboi did not disappoint; he still did his silent jig, without any discernible music, perhaps because he has music ringing in his head.

I recall the British boxer Lennox Lewis claiming his movement in the ring responded to the imaginary reggae beats playing in his mind, so Kemboi's marvellous dance makes a lot of sense.

But that's not my point.

The dance I'm most curious about is the collective sigh, as well as shouts of joy from all Kenyans, as our athletes triumphed.

Why are we able to sing in unison when other things are happening in our great land?

Yego will not win gold every day, but his life struggles is a song worth singing.

He always wanted to throw javelin, but opportunities for him to learn were not easy to find. He used a phone to watch others perform on YouTube, and learnt enough to make him confident that he, too, could excel.

And he did, ultimately, representing the country in the sport for the past couple of years, honing his skills along the way until he struck gold this week.

His throw, I hear it's being called a monster throw, but I don't know what that means, at over 92 metres, is reportedly the third longest ever recorded since the games began.

Let's pause there for a moment and consider those facts.

A self-taught athlete now ranks among the best that the world has ever produced. What's to stop us from dreaming to be the best in all our endeavours, regardless of circumstance?

It doesn't end there: Yego had actually wanted to be a runner, but sports coaches rejected him.

Yego did not let their verdict define his abilities, so he defied them and urged on.

Nicholas Bett, who sprinted to victory in the 400m hurdles, is another sensation.

The obvious lament that we do not have proper infrastructure to support certain activities did not stop him from practising, and winning. And we are all proud of him.

Hence the question: why don't we collectively and spontaneously rally behind fellow Kenyans in other realms, away from the field?

Why do we cease to be patriots who judge others by the actions, rather than their places of origin? When do we cease to be sensible citizens and return to ethnic enclaves?

And since the latter is our default setting, would it be fair to accept, admit our hypocrisy and commit to change?