London Olympics 2012

Proud to be British

Taking immense amounts of pride in being English or British is not something I am known for generally - I'm not saying that I dislike my country or roots in any way, I just don't really feel a sense of superiority or awesomeness in the fact that I am British. A country is just a geographical place. But what elicits pride are the people of the country you come from, as they stand as real-life heroes and aspirational beings that have the power to inspire other countrymen to do something spectacular with their life.  Never is this more the case than when the Olympics roles around; the fact that this time round it is being held in Great Britain is just an added bonus. Sure, I will be rooting for the Brits or Englanders in the World Cups, Grand Slams, Gran Prix, and various other world events, but the Olympics is always something special. The chance for athletes to truly show that literally years (in most cases) of work have finally rewarded them with the recognition that they deserve in proving that they are the best in the world. In the world. Whether gold, silver, bronze or medal-less, the fact that athletes are even at this prestigious event is something that they should forever take pride in and can never be taken away from them. 

But hell, let's talk about winning, shall we? I just finished watching Great Britain's Jessica Ennis and Mo Farah win gold in the heptathlon and 10,000m respectively, and couldn't help but shout at my television in an obviously fruitless effort to urge them on. Ennis thrashed her opposition and will be forever remembered as the Sheffield-sweetheart, and Mo Farah seemed in complete control throughout his event before a thrilling thundering finish in the last few laps. And they weren't the only golds; rowing events, long-jump, cycling pursuits - all adding to our tally of Brits that have achieved the pinnacle symbol of their athletic careers. he sound of the crowds at the Olympic Stadium in Stratford was immense, I cannot begin to imagine how that must have felt to have an entire nation screaming for you to succeed and loving you come what may. That is what makes me proud, not the fact that Britain is an island on the edges of Europe, but that the British people will band together to support our own no matter what. The emotional investment in supporting our athletes is always evident - especially when we see success but even more so when our athletes 'fail' to live up to expectations and our presenters and crowd show such love and affection to let them know that we will never see them as a failure, and will always believe that they are the best in the world. You might be able to tell that I am in a bit of an Olympic fever at the moment, most of what I am saying is probably jibberish, but I think this may be the first Olympics that I have experienced where I really care about the athletes and feel pride in knowing that they are representing me, the country I was raised in and the people that I have known since living here. I was way too young for the Sydney Games in 2000, too teenage for Athens, too busy drinking for Beijing (though I was starting to feel the buzz), and now at the age where I start welling up at family dramas, I think London 2012 will stick with me for a very long time. So, goddamnit, go Team GB and congratulations to all the athletes who have achieved their dreams so far this summer.

In other Olympic related news, I had a very strange event today while out with my lovely ex-housemate. We happened upon a mobile phone on a bench-type-thing whilst wandering around central London. Luckily it was a phone that was a few versions prior to the invention of password-locks, so I was able to phone one of the most recent dialed numbers to try and find the owner. No, this isn't just me trying to come across really saintly - I genuinely think most people would do the same - the story gets interesting (for me) from here. The voice that answered the other end was a lovely American accent, and as I explained why I was calling it was revealed to me that the phone belonged to an American athlete by the name of Gia Lewis-Smallwood and I was speaking to one of the American head-coaches! Cue a trip across London with my equally excited companion to return this phone to its rightful owner, all the while secretly harbouring the hope that some other American athletes would ring young Gia up so that I could brag even more to my friends. This didn't happen, but I was able to meet the lovely Mike Turk (I really hope I've remembered that right, I will feel like such a douche if I've got that wrong) who vowed to return the athletes only means of contacting the outside world while in the UK for me and even spared the time for a photo. So, if there's a lesson in this for anyone - always try to return lost items because, you never know, you might have a interesting story to tell! And of course, I'm sure when Gia wins her next medal she will dedicate it to me...right? If only!