Wednesday 27 June 2012

The Olympic spirit

I don’t do sport. Not only do I not play it, I don’t watch it, talk it or rate it in any way.

This is a big disadvantage when you’re a man, and I’m one all the time. Men are expected to love sport. They’re expected to live it. I loathe it.

This leads to awkward silences when the nice chap on the phone from Mumbai, faithfully following his crib sheet, says ‘It was a great match last night, wasn’t it?’, while I wait for him to fix my internet connection. It limits the banter on those rare occasions I’m allowed out with the boys. And it earns the contempt of my football-mad daughter.

Imagine my delight, then, when I found that the Olympics is going to be on my doorstep next month, almost literally. The time trial and road race cycle events are set to pass one end of my road and, four hours later, return past the other end of it. We will be prisoners for three days, unable to leave our street between 4am and goodness knows when.

I moaned at my friend Dazzle, who hates sport too. But Dazzle is gay, and said that being held prisoner by 100 sweaty men in lycra is his idea of a jolly weekend.

I moaned at my Hungarian neighbour, who can usually be relied upon to express sympathetic outrage at life’s inconveniences. But she has five boys and is glad of something that will get them out of the house without having to hire a bus.

I moaned at my wife, who said that I’d better watch what I say in case the Stasi cart me off for contravening the diktat that we are to embrace the Olympics whole-heartedly.

So I did the only thing I could do, and booked our family holiday for the whole Olympic fortnight. We leave the day before the lycra lock-in begins. And today I realised that I’m missing the most exciting thing to happen in my corner of suburbia since I got chatting to the lady in charge of flowers in Tesco and found that she’s the ex-wife of Gregg Wallace from Masterchef.

At last, the Olympic flame has been kindled in my heart, and it’s too late to rearrange the holiday. 

10 comments:

  1. The Olympics leave me stone cold. Not like the World Cup. I love the World Cup. I can wander empty streets, empty parks and queue-less supermarkets and I can lie across three seats in the rush hour Tube.

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    1. I like the World Cup too. Once I got so into it I had to ring a friend to ask what a penalty shoot-out is.

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  2. You came highly recommended by Anna so I popped over to take a look - welcome to the world of blogging, a great first post!

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    1. Thanks so much for dropping in, and for signing up, like! Funny how Anna's so nice to me online; we're quite horrid to each other in real life.

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  3. Ever since I didn't get tickets for any event I applied for I've lost all interest myself, to be honest, I am now of the opinion the Olympics is for corporate or the rich/famous and the average man matters little. Enjoy your holiday, quality family time is priceless.

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    1. Welcome, kindred spirit! It annoys me that they're always on about the Olympic ideal being above politics and sport for sport's sake etc etc, when it's blindingly obvious it's about politics, self-aggrandisement and venality. And they think we won't notice...

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  4. I'm with you on this. Olympics shmolympics.
    Don't think that worked very well.
    Either way, I couldnae give two flying ones about the whole thing.
    Although I will watch Usain Bolt. Because he's incredible.
    Oh no, now I realise I'll probably be sucked into the whole damn thing!

    Good to have you back senor. X

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    1. Ah, like having an old friend drop in! Welcome to me new pad, and thanks for all your evangelizing about it.

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  5. Hello, that is a very funny post! I think you feelings towards sports mirror my own, but I am a woman. Anyway you don't have to like sports. Either you do or you don't. Great first post, and good luck with the blogging.

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    1. Thank you. I did another blog, but it's quite different; this is a new discipline. Thanks for dropping by.

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