The Olympics

Only four years to go and counting

It’s hard to keep up with all the Olympic excitement – what with ‘Super Saturday’ followed closely by the imaginatively titled ‘Super Tuesday’, altogether a ‘super’ time was had by one and all. But no matter what the papers call it, there’s no denying Team GB delivered a gleaming pot of gold that we could all get excited about. Cue rousing ‘Chariots of Fire’ music. As pay back for their sporting success these athletic heroes are getting an open-bus victory tour around London – as well as some major sponsorship deals and a pair of Jimmy Choos for that swimmer from Mansfield.

Londoners have been keeping up with all the action and podium news on big screens in Trafalgar Square and Canary Wharf, watching everything from air pistol shooting to synchronised swimming. We’ve lived through the highs: medals in cycling, rowing, sailing; and the lows: 14 year old diver Tom Daley and his partner Blake Alderidge squabbling, Paula sobbing and Andy Murray double faulting.

Even if you’re not normally an avid arm chair sports enthusiast you can’t help but get excited about the Olympics. The worldwide nature of the competition coupled with the fact it only happens once every four years inevitably mean the tension mounts and emotions run high. Flag waving, whooping (the audience) and tears (the competitors) soon follow.

I’ve noticed changes in my sport watching habits, I’ve become strangely gripped by activities I wouldn’t normally bother with. At Athens four years ago weightlifting was the surprise attraction; seriously, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it – well, watching it anyway. This time round it was ping-pong, and not just for the comedy value either. I was glued. It may have funny sounding names like whiff-whaff and flim-flam but table tennis is a serious sport, especially in the host country. Buoyed up by the crowd and struggling to keep up with the fast moving blur of a ball, it didn’t take me long to see ping-pong’s appeal.

But the excitement is not just about Beijing, the four-year build up to London hosting the games in 2012 has already begun. With the end of the closing ceremony in China the official countdown to ‘our turn’ begins. The spectacular opening party at the spaghetti-like Bird’s Nest in Beijing and state of the art staging has set the bar high. Of course we know that 7,000 Morris dancers aren’t going to match up but we’re not going to let that stop us trying.

And we’re trying quite hard. We’ve got a Zaha Hadid designed swimming centre, not to mention the 80,000 seat Olympic stadium and, casting aside concerns about ‘but how much is this going to cost us?', we can even start looking forward to the sporting spectacle. Sure, we’ll have four years of headlines concerned about budgets and targets, plus plenty of Boris bashing but in the end, even if it’s a patch on what we’ve seen this time around, the Olympics in London will be well worth watching.

Fit for a Queen?

Ah, the fourth plinth debate! They do say that all publicity is good publicity so rumours that a statue of the Queen riding a horse (with Corgis?) – she would only be immortalised in cast iron after her death – could topple modern art off its pedestal are just the thing…Some arty type said that that it would be ‘a great shame’ if the art was stopped – next up is Antony Gormley’s plan to have the plinth occupied 24 hours a day by members of the public, who can stand there for an hour ‘being art’ – but I wonder if anyone has asked Liz if she wants to join Nelson and the pigeons in Trafalgar Square.

We're Sooooo Rock 'n' Roll

I thought ‘being a rock star’ had lost its cool in the 60s and 70s; that guitar-thrashing had been long ago replaced by moshing, but even that’s a little bit 80s and perhaps nowadays it’s all about the iPod disco. But apparently rocking still holds some street cred and the particular streets to frequent if you want to bump into an aging rocker or a modern day one having trouble opening his eyes (Pete Doherty) are those around Shepherd’s Bush. Around ‘the Bush’ as the locals call it, there’s one rock star for every 1,222 residents – the highest ratio in the UK – so move over Manchester (some upstarts called Oasis!), London’s rocking.

Boris Takes off his Stabilisers

Oh, worry of worries. There has been some hoo-ha about a Tim Parker standing down from the post of First Deputy Mayor – he was meant to run Transport for London - but what concerns me is not whether he quit because he understandably couldn’t be within a two foot radius of Boris or over some other political wrangling, but that, once again. Boris has sole responsibility for the Tube. He said that being personally involved was ‘crucial to being an effective mayor’ – that may be so but no one said anything about him being effective. Does anyone else see impending disaster down the track as officials jump ship, London grinds to a halt and Boris is left, alone, still smiling and still clueless?

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