A lot of people seem to have surprised themselves this summer by getting heavily involved in watching the Olympic Games. I am among this number, and ever since the hilariously bonkers Opening Ceremony was broadcast we have hardly turned the television off (apart from when the boxing or judo was on. I don't know why, but I just can't find it in myself to get excited about boxing and judo).
Team GB won 65 medals in total. Andy Murray beat Roger Federer and took the gold home. Tom Daley and Beth Tweddle became Olympic medallists for the first time. Jessica Ennis, Greg Rutherford and Mo Farah provided a gripping hour of television on Super Saturday which I entirely missed because I was out for dinner with three university friends, and which Ben insisted I watched on catch-up TV immediately I arrived home despite the fact that it was almost midnight. It has been an amazing fortnight, and I'm so sorry it's over.
But since it is over, this seems a good moment to muse briefly upon a few post-Olympian thoughts. Clearly, I won't be saying anything here that hasn't already been said in a far more articulate and profound manner elsewhere, but not to worry. Press coverage in the UK has, since London's successful bid to host the Games all the way back in 2005, been a mixture of the wildly enthusiastic and the Eeyorishly cynical, so it doesn't hurt to add one more positive voice to the crowd, does it?
My boys have liked watching the Olympics, and have learned to applaud and cheer for their fellow Brits. Joshua was especially taken with the diving, announcing "Splash!" every time someone entered the water and providing a helpful running commentary regarding the colour of each participant's budgie smugglers (which, I'm not sorry to admit, is my new favourite phrase, replacing "colossal asshat" which was the previous postholder). This means he has been far more inclined to go swimming ("I go in the water!"), which we've decided to do every weekend from now on as a direct result of watching the Olympics. I expect many other people have responded in the same way. The athletes have been an inspiration to many, and for several reasons.
They're such great role models, aren't they? A poster has been doing the rounds on Facebook, asking the British media to refrain from upholding the usual collection of reality TV stars and WAGs and X-Factor contestants in favour of Team GB and their pleasingly healthy approach to body image, self-discipline and team spirit. I'd like my boys to look up to such people. I'd rather they took notice of this lot than the majority of English footballers, with their swearing and arguing and diving and all the rest. I want them to learn about the importance of taking part and working hard and behaving graciously whatever the outcome.
The hard work, in particular, is something which has stood out a mile during the past fortnight. Mo Farah, who won two gold medals for distance running, has described the unbelievable amount of training he's completed and put his achievements down to "grafting". As with everything in life, it can be very easy to look at these elite sportspeople and underestimate how much time and effort it's cost them to get to the Olympics in the first place. But their hard work is such an encouragement. Nothing worthwhile in life is easily or quickly achieved. I'm reminded of this every day when I try to push myself a bit further along in the business of writing, or continue with the uphill climb - albeit with beautifully spectacular views during the ascent - that constitutes so many aspects of childrearing, or wrestle with what it means to be a musician. All of these things demand a lot of private graft. A lot of sessions spent going round the track and over hurdles and off the diving board with no one watching or encouraging or supporting or cheering. That's everyday life, for Olympians as well as for everyone else.
It's also occurred to me that I'd like a slice of the energy that seems to overflow from each and every athlete as they race and row and fight their way to the finishing line. There's no room for lethargy in the Olympics. And I forget very easily that eating properly and doing a bit of exercise and not slobbing about in a pathetic manner makes a big difference to my energy levels, which are catastrophically low at present. And cake is a false friend, is it not, when kept as a constant companion? I do love muffins, but am less keen on the resultant muffin-top. Time to stop wallowing in fat and to get off my backside, and there's no better time than in these post-Olympic days. Although let's not get carried away here; there are two packets of Chocolate Fingers in the fridge, nestling alongside some Chocolate Digestives and three bags of Chocolate Buttons which I am virtuously pretending are For The Children but which are Clearly Also For Me.
Instead, I shall distract myself with other treats, namely Boris Johnson, Bert le Clos and Her Majesty the Queen. Boris, the exuberant Mayor of London, has been a delight to behold since well before the Olympics but has surpassed his previous levels of entertainment during the past fortnight. He has got himself inadvertently stuck on a zip wire whilst waving a pair of Union Jack flags, danced along to the Spice Girls, performed the Mobot at a press conference and still found time to knock out a few newspaper columns praising everything Olympian: 20 Jolly Good Reasons To Feel Cheerful About The Games and More Reasons To Raise A Cheer ought to put a smile on anyone's face. Similarly Bert le Clos, father of South African swimming champion Chad who somehow managed to beat the mighty Michael Phelps in the 200m butterfly, is a gentleman that everyone should get to know. He was interviewed by Clare Balding immediately after his son's victory and was such an immediate success that they asked him back a few days later. Unbelievable! What a guy. And can we just discuss the Queen, a Bond Girl at the age of 86, purring "Good evening, Mr Bond," before (okay, not really) parachuting casually from a helicopter into the Opening Ceremony? Sheer brilliance. She's a legend.
Clichéd and sentimental this may be, but the Olympics has made me prouder to be British than I was previously. I hope the buzz continues. It's been fantastic. And London 2012 isn't over - the Paralympics is about to begin. I've got a feeling that these athletes are going to showcase the very definition of the word inspirational, just as their peers have done over the past two weeks. Hasn't it been amazing? And if you're feeling a little bereft, as I am, and are resorting to catch-up TV in a bid to hold on to the memories for just a little longer, may I direct you to Activity Village, where you can download and print out free colouring sheets of Olympic heroes? Enjoy!
Interesting. I am pleased that the Olympics went well (especially after Mitt Romney's brick-dropping), I am pleased for the athletes who won medals, and I agree that they make much better role models than many others who are presented as such - *but* I don't see why this should make me proud to be British, or proud at all. After all, their achievements have nothing to do with me; nothing I did or could have done would have made the slightest difference. What is it about the whole thing that makes you proud to be British?
ReplyDeleteThe Olympics are so much more than just the achievements of the competitors. I feel that the Olympics have been a fabulous opportunity for a bit of the much missed feel-good factor. The Olympic venues and village were built under budget and on time, a perfect worldwide advertisement for the struggling British construction industry. The Opening and Closing Ceremonies were eccentric in the extreme but, oh so British. It showed how Britain has positively influenced the world over the years and the inclusion of Tim Berners-Lee was very fitting as the British inventor of the Internet. I'll bet most Brits hadn't heard of him, let alone the rest of the world. It was also a chance to show how beautiful a city London is. The major landmarks like Buckinham Palace and St Pauls were included in one event or another. However, the thing about the Olympics that really did make me proud was the positive reaction of the British public. 70,000 people gave up their time to volunteer for the Games, with no financial reward - they simply wanted to be involved and meet some of the visitors from all over the world. The torch relay was a great example showing that as a nation there is still community spirit and people are keen to be involved in things if given half a chance. The torchbearers came from all backgrounds, locations, ages and abilities and often an inspiration to those cheering them on. The torch passed within 5 minutes of our house. Sadly I was unable to go but my parents in law went and said the road was lined several deep, despite the fact it was pouring down. We live several hundred miles from London yet I feel part of the spectacle. I was one of the lucky ones to get tickets to the badminton but in the end could not attend and my parents went instead. They couldn't praise the games enough. The tickets came with a travelcard covering the entire tube network making it easy to get around, the volunteer gamesmakers were fantastic and the sport was thrilling (and no, they didn't see anyone from GB). As a nation, we are very quick to criticize ourselves, until recently you were considered to be bordering on racist to wave the Union Jack! So why do the London Games make me proud to be British? I've always been proud to be part of this country but when you see families together, ten deep in places, cheering and encouraging the athletes regardless of where they were from it does put a smile on your face. In some cases the underdog from the far side of who knows where got the biggest cheers! After WWII, everyone remembers the 'Dunkirk and Blitz Spirit'. I'm not suggesting the Olympics could be compared to the effects of the war, but this is possibly the nearest thing we've seen since, where all parts of the country have come together to get behind something.
DeleteAnd finishing third in the medals table was pretty good too... :-)
Thanks so much, dearest HB, for articulating my thoughts so clearly! That's exactly it for me, Rosie, and the only thing I'd add is that it's also partly to do with identity - I'm proud of how well it all went in the same way I'd be proud if the school I went to achieved something or set an excellent example to others. The Games was bigger than London - the athletes came from far and wide, as did the spectators - and received a fantastic and warm welcome as well as encouragement and support. It felt for me as if everyone was in it together.
DeleteFair enough! I didn't have that feeling at all, but then I had other things on my mind ...
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