Tim Sullivan, an Australian Paralympian with cerebral palsy, had this interchange with reporters after his victory in the 200m dash Sunday night.

“So, Tim, when did you know you had the race won?”

“I won!” Tim exulted, nodding and smiling broadly.

“Yes, Tim, but when did you know they wouldn’t be able to catch you?”

“They couldn’t catch me!” he agreed, still nodding.

“Err, yes, but Tim, how did you do it? Why couldn’t they beat you?”

“They couldn’t beat me!”

It was absolutely, marvelously, crystal-clear joy. It’s the kind of scene that is common at the Paralympics, and it’s the kind of scene that makes you ask yourself why you ever bothered watching regular sports at all.

However, before going to sports for the disabled, I think a lot of people probably expect to feel sorry for the participants. They might attend out of a sense of duty or sympathy to support unfortunate people doing their best, awkwardly, but admirably. The act is seen almost as charity.

Personally, people tend to expect to get little more from the athletes’ struggles than a sense of their own good fortune at having a high IQ and four fully functional limbs.

Gladly though — and this is the magic of the Paralympics people who come patronizing, leave humbled.

The “para” in Paralympics stands for “parallel to” and, truly, it is easy to make a case that sports for the disabled are every bit as good as traditional athletics. Sports are all about performing to the utmost within a given set of restrictions or rules.

The Paralympics merely make sure those restrictions include having a certain physical or mental disability.

And surely, Paralympic events are wholly different types of competition, not just inferior knock-offs of other sports. Well it may be true that the best wheelchair tennis player could never beat Pete Sampras, nor could the Olympic’s best marathon runner come close to the wheelchair marathon world record time of 1:24:55.

The athletes in both types of sports have different abilities and different disabilities and comparing the two is a case of apples and oranges. But pitching the Paralympics as merely separate but equal sells it far short. It is so much more amazing, so much more inspirational, and more purely fun than standard sports.

Take the case of Gabriel Vellejos, a Chilean swimmer I had the good fortune to see compete last week in the 50m backstroke. He competed in the S3 division, which consists primarily of athletes missing a limb or a portion of a limb.

But, because of birth defects, Vellejos’ has not even one fully developed limb. His arms are little more than six-inch stumps, one of his legs is entirely missing, and the other is very short and underdeveloped.

As he rode up to pool with the aid of a small bicycle, I wondered how he’d swim at all, let alone compete with the rest of his field.

But when the race started, Vellejos’ tiny arms exploded in a flurry of rotational motion.

The spectators were awestruck. The speed at which he churned the water was such that it appeared like Vellejos had wheels attached to his shoulders, instead of arms.

When he finished fifth, he received a thunderous ovation and another one as he left the arena beaming a smile across the venue and waving to the crowd on his bike.

He later penned these words which he shared with reporters:

“Ladies and gentleman, I came here with the hope and aspiration, perhaps a little ambitious, of winning a medal. I wanted to do it. But, with the love you have given me, it has made me feel I am a triumph. I will always carry you in my heart.

“If there is a paradise, this is it.” I know that embroiled in the day to day of life it can be difficult to take feel-good fests like the Paralympics very seriously. Hearing again about the “true meaning of sport” and the “triumph of the human spirit” is unimpressive in a world full of platitudes.

But events like this are exactly what we need more of in our lives.

Speaking from my experience here in Sydney, I can attest that the Paralympics does for cynicism what hell does for snowballs. It just melts away.

The Paralympics won’t come around again until the Athens games in 2004, but the Special Olympics are held every summer.

Do yourself a favor and check them out, or, even better, if you have the free time, get involved (www.specialolympics.org).

After all, when was the last time you were lucky enough to hang out with someone as happy as Tim Sullivan?

Luke Thompson is currently studying abroad in Sydney.