Quotes of the Day

Last week, Joey Cheek was pumped. Over lunch in New York City, I talked to the wide-eyed Olympic champion about his upcoming trip to Beijing, where the ex-speedskater and Darfur activist planned to rally athletes to raise awareness of troubles in Sudan. He wanted to outline the steps that China, which has close ties to the Sudanese government, could take to stop the atrocities in Darfur. I half-jokingly asked him how he managed to get his hands on a visa, since the Chinese government was notoriously begrudging to let potential nuisances step foot in the country during the Olympics. "Man, I really don't know," he said, laughing. "I don't know if I want to say how it might have happened, in case they want to close that loophole."

A week later, Cheek's trip has been shut down. There's nothing to laugh about now.

As the clock ticks down to the August 8 opening ceremonies in Beijing, China doesn't seem to be getting the best eleventh-hour PR advice. Now's the time when swimmers and runners could distract the world from the nation's much-criticized human rights record, and when athletic competition could supersede geopolitical tension for a few short weeks. Instead, in the weeks leading up to the Games Chinese organizers decided to censor websites about Tibet, Falun Gong, and other politically sensitive groups to the foreign media, causing the predictable outcry from international press and human right groups. (Officials have since backed down and opened up the sites). Now comes word that China has banned Cheek to enter the country on the eve of the Games, revoking the visa of an American athletic hero who donated his $40,000 in medal winnings from the 2006 Olympics to Darfurian refugees in Chad.

With the American media descending on Beijing this week and looking for a headline before the sports start, the move almost guarantees that China will take a beating in the foreign press. Those stories will not be about the impressive architecture of the Bird's Nest stadium, or how the new fleet of Olympic buses are running smoothly. Now, headlines will point to how a humanitarian essentially got kicked out of the country. The timing could not be worse.

The image hit is likely to cost China more than any activism Cheek would have done during the Games. Although he's the co-founder of Team Darfur, an international coalition of athletes pushing for reform in the Sudan, he's not exactly rabble-rouser. In our interview, Cheek said he was not planning any organized protests, and he had yet to set up any meetings with government officials. He's extremely sensitive to the fact that many Olympic athletes have trained their whole lives for this brief shining moment, and if taking up the Darfur cause is a distraction, he emphasizes that it's their right to stay out of it. He also knows that with Chinese Olympic officials sensitive to criticism during the Games, many athletes would risk their standing within their home countries if they spoke out. As an ex-Olympian, Cheek certainly wasn't going to steal the spotlight. Now China has given it to him.

After his visa was revoked August 5, Cheek said the Chinese government official who called him said he was "not required to give a reason" for revoking the visa. "The Chinese government's efforts to suppress athletes...who speak about essential human rights is a violation of that core Olympic spirit," Cheek said in a statement (Cheek did not immediately respond to a phone call and email from TIME.) During our pre-trip talk, Cheek has been more optimistic. "Ultimately, the legacy of these Games haven't yet been sealed," he said. "There's still great hope, despite all of the games playing you see behind the scenes. I'm sure there are going to be amazing athletic performances, from all the countries. I'm certain it will be a great spectacle. But I hope there's just more than just the athletic spectacle." It turns out Cheek got his wish, though in way he would have never chosen.

• Sean Gregory / Beijing