Where will you watch the Opening Ceremony?

It’s July and that can only mean one thing. The surreal prospect of a home games is very nearly here. And like the mind-bending feeling of carrying a baby in your tummy one day and then holding the very same baby in your arms the next, I just can’t get my head around that fact. In just a few weeks, I’ll be sitting in my living room getting goose bumps like I always do on any Opening Ceremony night. Only this time, the goose bumps will have goose bumps.

The excitement I always feel since experiencing Sydney 2000 at firsthand comes rushing back to me. But this time, it will be special again. This time will be just as important to me as being on the ground surrounded by world-class athletes, watched by the eyes of the world. My sense of national pride and achievement will be off the podium. I expect my other half may decide to hide in another room.

So what I’d like to know from others is how you’ll be watching the Opening Ceremony? Now that Eurovision parties and Big Brother parties have become the norm, I wonder if Brits will embrace the London 2012 Opening Ceremony in the same way they braved the grim Diamond Jubilee weather back in early June. And will they make fancy dress compulsory? Will the streets of London be witness to gaggles of ‘sporting stars’ spilling out of Fitzrovia and Soho pubs long into the night? I like to think so.

Most people I know have very young children and babies these days, so I expect the event will be low key for them. I personally plan to buy a sofa picnic made up of all my favourite food and drink from around the world. Then I’ll have my union jack at the ready (recycled from Queenie’s street party) and a big box of tissues on hand to cope with the only house guests I’ll be having that evening: a grand mix of nostalgia, excitement and hormones. Bring it on!

Mad dogs, Englishmen, women and children

It’s good to see it’s not just me with the crazy hormones coursing round my body at the moment. It seems that towns and villages across the UK are gearing up for their very own Torch Relays, in protest that the real thing won’t be visiting them. They clearly used to watch a lot of Blue Peter as their torch designs are inspired.

The other curious news is that Stuart Pearce, Team GB’s football coach is heading the LA to check out Beckham’s fitness for selection to the Olympic team. He could save a bob or two by listening to ex-England forward Gary Lineker on the subject. After all, he’s the Simon Cowell of football. If he doesn’t know talent when he sees it, I’m a twelve year old girl singing about getting my swag on.

On another note, it was great to see the capital showcased for the London Marathon on Sunday. Well done to all those who’ve worked so hard to get us looking our best. Sydney was gleaming in the months leading up to the 2000 games. Upon my return in 2006 however, shops were empty, buildings gone and you could no longer see your face in the pavements. Make the most of it London, now’s the time to see your city as never before.

And if you’ve been too busy celebrating the amazing fact that Chelsea got through to the Champions League Final with just ten men (breathe), the 30-year-old woman, Claire Squires, who collapsed and died during the London Marathon, has now posthumously raised over half a million pounds for The Samaritans. Our thoughts are with her family – may they be comforted by this amazing tribute. See more here.

Trenton, the oxymoron

I had an interesting conversation with my dad this weekend. He lives in Australia’s Perth, the most remote city on Earth I believe it’s called. He hadn’t yet heard about the ‘Trenton!’ incident that took place this weekend on the River Thames. It’s a stretch of the river we used to live near. I’ve never rowed it as I don’t have a death wish, but I did feel privileged (and not elitist at all) to live around there. The only thing I know is that no one goes swimming in the Thames because it is so dangerous. Just ask the London whale that ended up in Battersea that time when he took a wrong turn by Graves End.

So it was a no-brainer that the guy in a wetsuit swimming in the middle of the river as Oxford and Cambridge’s boats came through was clearly unhinged and/or a protester of sorts. I don’t want to name him as he’s had his five minutes of fame, but it does seem he has created more anxiety about protesters turning up to the Olympics and putting an end to years of preparation and desire in the blink of an eye. He was protesting about ‘elitism’ – although it probably came across as more of a dislike of Oxbridge and ‘posh’ people. Which is curious, not least because there is no money in rowing, unlike football for example. See more >

Anyway, so turns out, ‘big T’ as I shall call him, is in fact a privately educated chappie from Sydney, who has swapped ‘classless’ Australia for ye olde England. An oxymoron if ever there was one. The Cambridge captain was interviewed about their ‘win’ and he was also Australian. Apparently the crew included oarsmen of six different nationalities in total. I’m not sure who else was English, apart from the umpire maybe, who, in my humble opinion, should have stopped the race when an Oxford rower’s oar broke and made the race unfair, resulting in an ambulance being called for one of the team at the finish line. Dr Woods is now thankfully out of the woods – hope you’re feeling better.

It was the most eventful boat races in years, but with one eye on the Olympics, I think we should all be thankful no one ended up like that poor whale.

See also Trenton/Fenton mash-up as reported in Australia.

Diary entry from Sydney 2000 Opening Ceremony

Well, from where we were in the Olympic stadium, we could see a giant TV screen (Pete from Aylesbury, my housemate, actually helped to install them as part of his job). So we saw all the action, from Olivia John and John Barnes singing, Tina Arena with ‘The Flame’ song and Amorosis ‘Heroes Live Forever’, which is the bit when a giant white sheet dropped over the south stand and covered the audience, making its way to the field of play and images were projected over on to it, including athletes’ images and the dove of peace. Everyone was excited by this point to see who was going to carry the flame. The torchbearers are always kept top secret so no one knows who is going to do the biggie of lighting the cauldron until the last possible moment.

By this time, we found it hard to keep the athletes contained in their ‘pen’, with lots wanting to get out and go off to the loo. It was a long time for them to wait, some 2.5 hours on their feet and they did get restless. Then the moment came when Herb Elliott ran the torch to the stadium and five of the Aussie great athletes took turns to run it on its final lap of glory. These were all women and mainly swimmers, including Betty Cuthbert and Dawn Fraser. This was because it was 100 years of women at the games. Go girls!

And then the moment of moments came… and there was Cathy Freeman standing in a white flame resistant bodysuit – she appeared as if by magic holding the torch and she took it up to the steps of the cauldron and stood in the middle of a circle of water. I watched her live, over the athletes’ heads and my God. You could see the emotion surging over her face on the screens. Anyone who was not affected by that is not alive, but having been here since April 2000 and followed the news, politics etc, the march for reconciliation etc, I think I appreciated it all the more. For this was a statement about Australians for Australians. It will have gone over a lot of viewers’ heads. ‘Who is Cathy Freeman?’ ‘Only a silver medalist’ etc etc. Simon, a lad I work with in the Athletes’ village, said the only reason she did it was because she was Aboriginee. I said, ‘And?’ Australian politics have come a long way in just one year; people’s attitudes are changing and they need to. The backlash with the press at home (in the UK) is that the whole Opening Ceremony was more about political correctness than anything; no kangaroos on bicycles like at the handover at Atlanta which caused an uproar.

At the end I had my photo taken in the stadium and I hope they came out OK. I got separated from the girls I was stood with and ended up walking out behind Matt Shrivington (Aussie athletics hopeful), the Aussie team and then past the US Dream Team (Basketball) who were signing autographs. Apparently they are very famous! I couldn’t help thinking, is some of this wasted on me?! Anyway, I was buzzing, and got home and had to go to the pub/beach to celebrate. Didn’t get home til 6am in the morning. Who could sleep after that?! What a fantastic day!

Note from blogger:
(I should note the rest of these diary entries are recorded further back in this blog, and written by my eager 21 year old self. I’m not sure what you’ll make of it, but there’s nothing like the enthusiasm of youth, that's for sure.)

Diary entry from Sydney 2000 Opening Ceremony

Well, the crowd was huge: 100,000 people and 3.7 billion watching on TV. The biggest peacetime event. But in our little corner, you only saw the media boxes and VIP bit in front of us and it was easy to relax and it wasn’t until you looked over your shoulder that you realised what was behind; a sea of people, torches glowing. And when they cheered, you couldn’t help but be affected. The defining moment for me was when Australia came on: the roar from the crowd pricked your senses, you watched and admired the huge team as they took in the view walking past you. I could smell the athletes they were so close; body cologne and aftershaves from all around the world. Wow. Not to mention the third time I’ve seen Pat Rafter this week – I swear he’s stalking me! (Sorry, got distracted, a couple of Coogee lifeguards just walked past…!)

Anyway, when Team GB walked past, I don’t think I recognised one of them! The track and field team weren’t there and it was kind of disappointing. They were all dressed in tracksuit tops; men in blue, women in white, and all mashed in together. Not particularly eye catching at all. Not smart and chic like some of the other teams. Notably, Italy in navy blue blazers and each athlete had a different colour of trousers on – red, yellow, green and blue – it was great. The Dutch looked good too in their orange blazers and so did the African countries. Swaziland was cool as they did an African dance on their way round. Mongolia had what looked like a sumo wrestler carrying their flag and he was dressed like one too! Japan was wearing coloured kite/cape type things on their backs. Canada looked good in their beach hats. Yep, it was lovely. So then India and Italy were behind us and the atmosphere was wicked. Golly, my hand is hurting from writing; I’ve got to stop for a bit!!! All too exciting for words.

The toughest crowd

A familiar face loomed out of the pages of yesterday’s London Evening Standard. At first, I couldn’t place her, but then I read the caption: Suzie O’Neill, hides her pain after getting silver in Sydney. Of course! Suzie O’Neill the swimmer was Australia’s equivalent of London’s Jessica Ennis or Chris Hoy. She had the hopes of the nation piled high on her shoulders and in her star event, the 200 metres butterfly, she was cruelly pipped at the post by American Misty Hyman.

She’s now in town talking to London’s athletes about the pressure of performing at a Home Games. For me, the hardest part of her story was the fact it has taken 10 years for her to properly process her loss. She was devastated and couldn’t even look at any footage surrounding the Games for many years.

It’s an interesting read, particularly when you realise how much extra energy she spent doing things like signing autographs and talking to people wherever she went. This sounds simple, but actually, for a focused athlete, it must be trying at times. All in all, Suzie’s interview outlines just how precious the chance to compete at an Olympics is for athletes. And while the rest of us can only begin to imagine what they go through to get there, it’s often what happens afterwards that gives us their full story.

Diary entry from Sydney 2000 Opening Ceremony

Well, the crowd was huge: 100,000 people and 3.7 billion watching on TV. The biggest peacetime event. But in our little corner, you only saw the media boxes and VIP bit in front of us and it was easy to relax and it wasn’t until you looked over your shoulder that you realised what was behind; a sea of people, torches glowing. And when they cheered, you couldn’t help but be affected. The defining moment for me was when Australia came on: the roar from the crowd pricked your senses, you watched and admired the huge team as they took in the view walking past you. I could smell the athletes they were so close; body cologne and aftershaves from all around the world. Wow. Not to mention the third time I’ve seen Pat Rafter this week – I swear he’s stalking me! (Sorry, got distracted, a couple of Coogee lifeguards just walked past…!)

Anyway, when Team GB walked past, I don’t think I recognised one of them! The track and field team weren’t there and it was kind of disappointing. They were all dressed in tracksuit tops; men in blue, women in white, and all mashed in together. Not particularly eye catching at all. Not smart and chic like some of the other teams. Notably, Italy in navy blue blazers and each athlete had a different colour of trousers on – red, yellow, green and blue – it was great. The Dutch looked good too in their orange blazers and so did the African countries. Swaziland was cool as they did an African dance on their way round. Mongolia had what looked like a sumo wrestler carrying their flag and he was dressed like one too! Japan was wearing coloured kite/cape type things on their backs. Canada looked good in their beach hats. Yep, it was lovely. So then India and Italy were behind us and the atmosphere was wicked. Golly, my hand is hurting from writing; I’ve got to stop for a bit!!! All too exciting for words.