 |
| The hostess with the mostess and I on a Sunday stroll |
This was a day I had to push through after 16 flat out days of Olympic action.
But managed to take in the last remnants of the men's marathon through the streets of the inner city before running into a market and wandering over Tower Bridge.
Then it was on to the closing ceremony, well what I managed to take in anyway.
Here is the London Eye article I wrote for the Maitland Mercury about this very experience and the beauty of a four-year Olympic cycle...
 |
| The rings walking along Tower Bridge |
"I didn’t know if I had it in me.
It was late in the afternoon on the final
day of London 2012 and the closing ceremony was fast approaching, but I was
absolutely out on my feet.
My eyes were literally hanging out of my
head, every part of my body was aching to the core and I was staggering all
over the pathway, not from drunkenness (possibly still from the night before
after partying at Australia House, however, that is another story) but rather
from the disorientation that comes with a lack of sleep caused by a four-yearly
disease called “Games Fever”.
It felt like I had been on the same path as
Stephen Kiprotich and the Kenyan runners during the 42 kilometre men’s
marathon, but only after going 10 back-to-back rounds in boxing, judo and
Greco-Roman wrestling.
Now don’t get me wrong, there was a buzz
about the spectacle to come, especially following the success of the opening
ceremony.
The Spice Girls (picture below courtesy of Mel B's Twitter page) were to be reunited on
stage, the final tickets had been released that morning and as I made my way
from Balham Bed and Breakfast 2 (my new residence in London without a
television) to Balham Bed and Breakfast 1 (my initial residence in London with
a television) to watch it all unfold there were streams of light peering out of
each house along the street with family and friends gathered to watch the show
from their lounge rooms.
 |
| The girls spice it up with Oasis post closing ceremony |
I was about to do the same and take in the
final event on the jam-packed Olympic schedule but there was one slight problem
– I was spent.
Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe my
state of being and it was at this point that it struck me – no wonder the
Olympic Games are only held every four years.
Some theories date this back to the Greek
gods and the various mythical battles they won, others to heightening the sense
of anticipation for competitors to rise to the occasion, while a few more take
the practical line of thinking about nations organising the logistics of
actually hosting such a large-scale event.
But I beg to differ completely and can only
see one logical explanation – you need that much time in between Olympic Games
just to recover from the last one.
 |
| Father of the modern Olympics |
I bet when Zeus put on his first she-bang
in Athens there was one almighty hangover from the copious amounts of Greek
wine they drank from those oversized jugs; I can only imagine the sense of
relief felt by Pierre de Coubertin (picture from Wikipedia) after the 1896 Games had been completed and
he had until the turn of the century to get ready for the next one; and even
the Queen struggled to keep pace at London 2012 following her show-stopping
performance at the opener with the head of state failing to make an appearance
at the grand finale.
This thing moves so frenetically that it’s
frightening.
One minute Michael Phelps is claiming gold
for being first in the tuck shop line and the next Usain Bolt is putting on a
stage show more at home in the West End than Olympic Park.
In between times the world’s best exponents
of badminton forget how to hit a shuttlecock over a net, Bulgarian athlete
Vania Stambolova lives up to her name and crashes out of the 400 metre hurdles
while the Great Brits enter so many events that they actually won a few medals.
If you even consider blinking at any stage
throughout the 16 days of competition you will miss it.
Basically, and almost simultaneously, there
are virtually 30 sports to take in, more than 2100 medals to claim and in
excess of 10,000 athlete profiles to read.
It is almost easier being an athlete, even
if you are like Jess Ennis and need to do seven things at once, rather than a
spectator absorbing the media saturation of each and every golden moment in
super slow-motion replays.
Okay, maybe not exactly, but I think you
catch my drift as I take in the last few scenes of the closing ceremony from
the back of my eye lids.
 |
| Gone... |
So well done London and bring on Rio 2016,
but thanks for the appropriate interlude in between."
No comments:
Post a Comment