The Olympic Files: Day One.

I love the Olympic Games. Ever since the little fat eleven-year-old me watched my distant relative Sally race to a place in history, as one those rarest of breeds; a British Gold medallist, the event has stayed etched deep in my heart. Back in 1992, viewing the Barcelona Games through a 10 inch black and white television, in a literal airing cupboard I called my bedroom, and watching the world unify in sporting competition, it began to teach me the beauty of both the limitless boundaries of the physical body, and how much I needed a bigger bedroom.

Two decades on, and the summer games arrive once more; in living colour, a few short miles from my new, much larger bedroom, ready to show the world how the Brits manage to host an event of this magnitude in the 21st century. And going on the incredible showcase of Danny Boyle’s genius; otherwise known as the Opening Ceremony, there is plenty to look forward to – even if little more than seeking a pervy thrill or two off the Beach Volleyball. So, after the first full day of competition, here are a few thoughts on the 30th Olympiad; live from my home-town of jolly old London, England. 

Team Great Britain: In typical xenophobic nature, the media and advertising have once again proudly proclaimed how us British are going to dominate the entire games, win 94 medals, top the final table, win shock Golds in ludicrous events we are generally shit at; such as Handball and Beach Volleyball – simply because it is upon our land. It seems everyone believes this – except for the other competing 204 nations, that is. Day one is over, and our current tally of medals is a grand total of… zero. Oh dear. I am hoping the ridiculous weight of expectation placed upon our athletes does not hinder them, but if you are going to succeed in the elements, seriously, respect the other nations aspirations. On the flip side, the BBC’s overload of excuses crack me up with each new delusion; my favourite today, blaming the Chinese fans over exuberance, for causing the British to win fuck all in the pools - I guess ability is an irrelevant factor.

Female Basketball
: women over 6 feet tall are scary. Women over 6 feet tall who play professional Basketball, are even scarier. I guess beyond wrestler, shelf stacker for a shop too tight to buy ladders, or replacement may pole, career options are limited for 6 feet 8 inch females. Today, Australia hammered the British team; excuses fly through the mouths of the commentators - I am certain one of them claimed the Aussies were wearing flubber.

Weightlifting: 48 Kilo sized women, lifting the equivalent of a whole me carrying a microwave from 1990 high above their heads, is seriously impressive. Most are oriental – which is a good advert for staunch conservatism and rice, I suppose. This event must carry the highest ratio of injuries, and shortest ratio of ectomorphs.

Swimming: As usual, Britain loses, America wins, Sharron Davies presents the action and mentions her Silver of 1980, and the Queen turns up. Swimmers have strange yet impressive physiques, and remind me of lean human sharks. I am looking forward to a streaker diving in the pool – hopefully, after discovering her new found sense of humour, maybe Her Majesty.

Road Cycling: British Gold hopeful Mark Cavendish rides for almost six hours, forgets to close in on the chasing pack, finishes miles behind the medallists, then blames the Australian team for doing so. If whinging was an Olympic event, Britain would win the Gold, Silver, and Bronze. On another note, I never realised how beautifully green England is; though I spend a lot of time in Harrow, so why would I.

Shooting: So there is no Sumo Wrestling, Cricket, Karate, or Pie Throwing here in the Olympics – but there is shooting. Where men and women who resemble power rangers, fire guns into squares with numbered circles inside them. Nope, I just don’t get it. Also, if there is Archery, where is Darts? Beyond the distance in direction, what’s the difference? Who wouldn't want to see three Brits standing proud upon a Darting medal podium; beer bellies and ugly shirts blazed around global images, under the banner of three Union Jacks.

Football: Team GB Women – hard working, technical, organised, and dedicated. Team GB Men – a glorified charity side. Why is Football here? It just doesn't feel right. Maybe for the women, but these guys have their own events of Olympic magnitude within their sports anyway; much like Tennis, or Golf (due to begin in 2016). They should make it five-a-side.

Female Volleyball: Women come to London after years of honing their craft, in order to become champions of the world. Men come to London after an hour on the tube, in order to oogle their arses. They do say sport is somewhat primal.

So this is day one. I will continue to blog about the Olympics, and hope to attend an event or two. This is all somewhat tongue in cheek; In the end, every athlete here is an exceptional human being - and making the Olympic Games in any capacity, wins my instant respect. As far as matters at home are concerned, I believe us Brits are doing a wonderful job in hosting - now just need to catch up when it comes to winning; we are currently behind Kazakhstan, for Sir Roger Bannisters sake! Until the next time...

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