Something happened to me a few days ago, I can’t quite pinpoint when it
occurred, but something inside me definitely changed; massive excitement for
the Olympics took an unrestrained hold of me, so much so I am now contemplating
buying a union jack for my front garden.
The sailing is held in my neighbouring town and due to the increasingly aging population I seemed to suffer with endless complaints regarding the changes to bus timetables, the disruptions to the roundabouts and the ‘god awful amounts of tourists’. Constantly listening to this was driving me a little bit mental and I grew to resent the Olympics and everything they represented more and more. This was primarily because I thought they represented tasteless sponsorship campaigns, materialistic vulgarity that led people sell their torches online and a forced enthusiasm which made me want to flee the country. Despite my best efforts I had been coerced into an Olympic opening party which was, typically, fancy dress and out of a desire to distance myself from the United Kingdom I donned a sari and went to represent India.
However, come Friday morning I sensed a sort of change growing inside of me, despite being disgusted to say it, I was actually excited. After constantly rejecting anything Olympic related, after such annoyance that an event which hadn’t even started yet already seemed to have lasted five years, I unintentionally contracted a serious case of ‘Olympic-hype’. I don’t know why I felt such a dramatic change, I fear pure reluctance set in – it was a sort if you can’t beat them, join them party.
Somehow I’d gotten into the whole swing of it, I’d bought a lottery ticket and was convinced (along with the majority of the country), that I’d win a million, Tom Daley and Bradley Wiggins were my new heroes and I was eagerly anticipating what the mastermind Danny Boyle would create. If someone told me last week that watching the opening ceremony would actually fill me with pride and happiness I would have laughed at them, for back then I was full of scorn, but no longer. I’ve never really harboured a great affection for my country, but I am embracing and enjoying this change in attitude. I am now 100% team GB.
With a dubious start comprised of maypoles and twee farmers I prayed we
wouldn’t humiliate ourselves in front of the world, however, somewhere in
between Isambard Kingdom Brunel reading out Shakespeare and the banter the
Queen herself provided, I remembered that I love Britain. It was heart-warming
to witness the undiluted praise for the NHS and Great Ormond Street –
coordinating 300 children is no mean feat! This massive celebration dedicated
to the glorious wealth of children’s literature and iconic musical influences
throughout the decades just reminded me how awesome we are. It felt pretty good
to know that one billion other people would be coming to that realisation too. There
was something so spectacular about seeing the Olympic rings being forged, their
merging and culmination only emphasising a sense of union and elegance – this
seemed to be the true spirit of the Olympics - which I’d forgotten a long time
ago. The beauty of the cauldron epitomised Boyle’s celebration of creativity,
of incredible innovation, and the sheer brilliance and pure spectacle of the
event, which was both refreshing and invigorating. The disgusting politics of
the Olympics were forgotten when it wasn’t some gaudy famous face lighting the
cauldron, but young, incredibly talented individuals – literally the future of
the event. This ceremony wasn’t about showing off, it wasn’t Hollywood sparkles
and glitter, but nonetheless it was perfect - it was simply British; it was
done as a gift to us all with in-jokes only we’d understand. It was funny and
clever and beautiful all at the same time. I had pride not only in Britain, but
somehow in the whole world. Incredible, inspirational people filled the stadium
from all over the planet and there was something enormously impressive about the
meeting of that wealth of talent irrespective of socio-political issues. This
year marked a massive development; every country had female participants, this enormous
equality milestone only emphasised the importance of events like this.
So, I’d like to congratulate Boyle on bringing a little bit of magic to England, the whole ceremony felt distinctly ours, so much so that I almost felt protective over it in the face of scorn from other misunderstood countries. If the whole world was watching, I feel we did them proud. Hopefully this festive team spirit will continue for the duration, as I am sure that there will be the need to celebrate GB’s undisputed and endless victories. For someone who is wholly uninterested in sport, Olympic fever has defiantly overcome me – long may it last.
Florence
It''s quite impressive.
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