Patriot Games
How 'bout these Olympics then? Despite all the prognostications of organisational disasters and transport armageddon, it appears that everything is going terribly smoothly - almost as if the media's sensationalist pre-Games focusing on the negatives was not entirely helpful or relevant. Imagine that.
Even G4S's textbook demonstration of the ultimate consequences of unfettered privatisation was saved by the wasteful old public sector in the form of Our Brave Boys (and Girls) (TM), thereby providing the Daily Mail with a properly perplexing paradox.
Empty Seats-Gate is the one thing to have really riled a lot of people, but even that has taken a backseat now that the medals have started rolling in for Team GB. For a hardcore sports fan it's a strange situation to have what feels like the whole country as enthused for a couple of weeks as you are for the rest of the year. Naturally our loved ones will return to being pissed off once we're back to watching the Capital One Cup first round, so we're enjoying this free sporting pass while we can.
The BBC has gone particularly Olympics crazy, and although this is to be expected I think they may be dedicating a wee bit too much time and resources thereto. Even Huw Edwards is at it, the 10pm bulletin in the first week consisting of 25-minutes of:
LONDON! MEDALS! TEAM GB! Oh, and there's been a couple more major atrocities in Syria :-( MORE SPORT! Goodnight :-D[Thankfully things have improved somewhat this week.]
Anyway, enough people are discussing the telly coverage and other big issues in grisly detail already. More importantly, what have I been upto?
Sunday: Women's Cycling - Road Race (Box Hill)
Getting up early on a Sunday morning to get a train into Surrey, walking for an hour uphill before checking into a holding area and waiting another couple of hours for a pack of ladies on bikes to whizz past us a couple of times, in the pissing rain? It could only be the Olympics.
Considering the speeds involved, cycling is not the ideal spectator sport unless perhaps you're watching a time trial (see below) or are halfway up an alpine pass and several drinks to the good. Box Hill sure ain't Alpe D'Huez, but it did provide an attractive backdrop to proceedings and in fairness we had been forewarned of the appalling weather.
We could hear commentary from roadside loudspeakers as the race progressed towards our position, the crowd's excitement brewing with each mention of a British rider getting to the front. Then came an endless entourage of police bikes and support cars before the riders powered past, and again 15 minutes later, and that was it for seeing the race in the flesh.
Everyone then trooped up to the big screen to watch the conclusion of the race, with Lizzie Armitstead being roared home to a brave silver in the wet (although being a Northerner she seemed fairly inured to the miserable conditions).
Everyone then trooped up to the big screen to watch the conclusion of the race, with Lizzie Armitstead being roared home to a brave silver in the wet (although being a Northerner she seemed fairly inured to the miserable conditions).
It really did add a lot to proceedings to be sharing in the excitement with a crowd of like-minded folk. Less pleasing was that a large majority of them, having chosen not to bother with any kind of suitable clothing or footwear and thus causing massive bottlenecks on the slightly muddy exit slopes, appeared to be idiots.
Monday: Beach Volleyball (Horse Guards Parade)
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| Dancers on the right (I know, my phone camera doesn't do zoom. Sorry.) |
Olympic beach volleyball has basically forgone all pretence that it's a sport - as if the governing body, on the basis that they are one of the easiest targets for the most obvious nudge, nudge, wink, wink-style prurience, have admitted defeat and embraced tackiness and razzmattazz.
The result is eerily reminiscent of The X Factor, right down to the drafting in of Peter Dickson to do voiceovers during timeouts, for pity's sake. I worry about that man. Does the voice have any other settings? "DARLING, I'M AFRAID I HAVE SOME... BAD NEWS!" I imagine it could get very off-putting.
The result is eerily reminiscent of The X Factor, right down to the drafting in of Peter Dickson to do voiceovers during timeouts, for pity's sake. I worry about that man. Does the voice have any other settings? "DARLING, I'M AFRAID I HAVE SOME... BAD NEWS!" I imagine it could get very off-putting.
Most of the music between points (and it was between every single point) was selected purely on the basis of singa/clapalong potential - the crowd constantly being urged by the MC to show just how prepared we were to Rock You or Walk 500 Miles (and 500 more) - with some modern beat combos like your Skrillexes and Rizzle Kickers rounding out the mix.
Four nubile athletes on court wearing revealing gear not being enough, there were troupes of scantily-clad dancers too during the timeouts to avert the danger of us quietly pondering exactly what the rules regarding timeouts actually were.
There were beer snakes, and congas. The venue itself, with much of London's iconic skyline visible from the stands, is a triumph. The sport, which from where I was sitting looks like it requires plenty of athleticism and certainly merits its place in the Games, sadly was more of an afterthought.
Wednesday: Shooting (Woolwich Barracks) and Cycling - Men's Time Trial (Strawberry Hill)
Other marksmen (markspersons?) were out practicing on the various ranges, and we managed to see eventual gold-winner Peter Wilson doing his trap-shooting thing - that's clay pigeons to you and I. Shooting is emphatically not a spectator sport and nor is it designed to be, but staff and facilities at the venue were all fine and it was nice to have it take place in the host city rather than on a farm somewhere out in the sticks.
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| Poor photo of a cyclist, possibly that rascal Vinokourov |
A swift dash across the capital was then made in order to take up a place on the roadside barriers at Strawberry Hill for the contre la montre, as the French delightfully call it. Time trials are far more fun to watch as, although you still only get to see riders for a few seconds as they come tearing along, you at least get to see this happen a great many times.
Mind you, the field for this TT was only about 40-strong, which suggests that a lot of riders were either knackered after Saturday's road race or were scared of being THRASHED by heroic Brits Wiggo and Froomedog.
This was something of an extended coronation for the surely soon-to-be Sir Bradley of Wiggins, as although his and Team Sky's exploits in the Tour de France did generate far more column inches for the race than usual, the majority of people in this country probably wouldn't have seen him racing to win on roads before (in the road race he was merely Mark Cavendish's domestique). And indeed the streets of Strawberry Hill were packed with mildly curious middle-class folk anxious to catch a glimpse of our latest sporting hero, whether they understood what on earth was going on or not.
Knowledge levels may have been best illustrated by the "Go Cavendish!" banner held proudly next to a "Go Wiggins" one across the way. Bonhomie and cameraderie, however, were very much in abundance. A lovely way to spend an afternoon.
Knowledge levels may have been best illustrated by the "Go Cavendish!" banner held proudly next to a "Go Wiggins" one across the way. Bonhomie and cameraderie, however, were very much in abundance. A lovely way to spend an afternoon.
Friday - Basketball (Olympic Park)
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| Half-time light show shenanigans |
Sometimes, mind, it's better not to know every single sporting rule. Watching Team GB's female basketballers playing France, we were a point up with the ball in our possession and a mere 20-odd seconds left. Surely our plucky ladies would run out the clock and secure an elusive win?
As it turned out, the dastardly French committed a foul, thereby forcing us to make two penalty throws and increase our lead to 3, which unfortunately enabled them to get the ball back, bomb down the court and nab a 3-pointer to tie the scores at the death.
Naturally, they then went on to win the match in overtime - a defeat snatched from the jaws of victory that was warily familar to seasoned British sports fans. But at least our lack of familiarity with the game made things that bit more exciting, as opposed, say, to the crushing inevitability of us limping out of the men's football with a now-standard penalty-based whimper.
The other match we saw was the USA ladies pulverising the poor old Czech Republic, which served to highlight the vast gulf in class between the elite and the rest that exists even at the highest Olympic level. As the host nation, GB has entered teams into every sport in 2012, even stuff like handball which we manifestly don't care about. The chances of most of them still being around in Rio are slim at best, but I guess that's not the point. At least this way the crowds always have someone to get behind.
And if they don't, there's always the seemingly ubiquitous MCs and their frightening enthusiasm and pounding sounds systems to keep us awake. Music and dancing was de rigeur in the basketball arena too, as is apparently the case at the volleyball, handball and most other places, but the sport:light entertainment ratio here was at least more balanced.
The Olympic Park was all very nice too, but I'll be going back there on Friday for the athletics so will be providing a full report next week. Plus I'll hopefully be taking a camera with an actual zoom function, so there may be some half-decent photos too. Can't wait.
As it turned out, the dastardly French committed a foul, thereby forcing us to make two penalty throws and increase our lead to 3, which unfortunately enabled them to get the ball back, bomb down the court and nab a 3-pointer to tie the scores at the death.
Naturally, they then went on to win the match in overtime - a defeat snatched from the jaws of victory that was warily familar to seasoned British sports fans. But at least our lack of familiarity with the game made things that bit more exciting, as opposed, say, to the crushing inevitability of us limping out of the men's football with a now-standard penalty-based whimper.
The other match we saw was the USA ladies pulverising the poor old Czech Republic, which served to highlight the vast gulf in class between the elite and the rest that exists even at the highest Olympic level. As the host nation, GB has entered teams into every sport in 2012, even stuff like handball which we manifestly don't care about. The chances of most of them still being around in Rio are slim at best, but I guess that's not the point. At least this way the crowds always have someone to get behind.
And if they don't, there's always the seemingly ubiquitous MCs and their frightening enthusiasm and pounding sounds systems to keep us awake. Music and dancing was de rigeur in the basketball arena too, as is apparently the case at the volleyball, handball and most other places, but the sport:light entertainment ratio here was at least more balanced.
The Olympic Park was all very nice too, but I'll be going back there on Friday for the athletics so will be providing a full report next week. Plus I'll hopefully be taking a camera with an actual zoom function, so there may be some half-decent photos too. Can't wait.
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