Raise your hands to the sky and scream "hallelujah". Praise the lord for I have seen the light and I BELIEVE.
I. Love. The. Olympics.
There, I've said it. I have gone from hatred through to ambivalence and all the way into wide-eyed adoring love.
I used to despise the Olympics. When I was living in London I worked at a law firm and the Olympics was one headache after another. We weren't the only law firm in the city working on things, far from it, I think almost every office in the capital must have had some kind of case.
My dad is a plant manager at one of the construction companies that built the stadium in Stratford. He lives in Bournemouth with my mum but back then in the early days of building, the plan was for the company to put him up in a hotel during the week and he'd return home at the weekends. This NEVER happened. I think at one point there was a period of almost 6 weeks that my parents didn't see each other. He'd have to go to another office or plant because a lorry hadn't shown up or supplies weren't sent out on time. Since I was living in London and my dad was staying there too, my mum was completely on her own. She'd always say how worried she was that she'd trip in the shower or fall down the stairs and nobody would know. Her colleagues were under strict instructions that if she didn't show up on a Monday morning they were to go round to the house to check she was ok. I'm not kidding.
I laughed at everyone scrambling to buy tickets in the bizarre ballot system. It was the most pathetic system ever created in the history of the universe. How some people could end up completely empty handed while others were faced with bills of hundreds, if not thousands, of pounds was ridiculous. There was a flurry of people handing back their tickets and then the madness started all over again.
I saw the mascots, Wenlock and Mandeville, and their story of creation as a cynical ploy to involve the north of the country in the games. Despite my change of heart, I'm still not convinced about these guys and I think they'll haunt us forevermore.
My initial scorn turned into a 'couldn't care less' attitude. I didn't go and see the torch relay because my car was at the garage having an MOT and getting on a mobile asylum (my name for buses) was not an option. I do not mix well with the lunatics who frequent public transport. I am rather unfortunate in that I must have what others see as a 'kind face'. Old people talk to me, local nutjobs think I want to listen to their conspiracy theories and children think I want to play. This also translates to being asked for directions, venue information and advice on local services whenever I'm out and about.
I had no reason to like the Olympics. I'm not sporty, I had no intention of going to watch any of the games and if still lived in London I would certainly have made arrangements to flee the city for the entirety of the 16 days.
Somehow by the middle of last week I'd started to get a little bit interested about the Olympics. It came from nowhere really. Then I watched the opening ceremony and everything changed. The only Danny Boyle film I've ever seen is Trainspotting so I had no expectations about the event. I'm yet to meet someone able to put into words quite what he achieved. For me, he erased years of ill-feeling and replaced it with a fire of excitement. I didn't realise I could feel such pride about something I wasn't involved in. I knew that a billion people around the world had their eyes on Great Britain and I was thrilled at what they were shown. I laughed. I cried. I cheered.
Since then I have been glued to the tv. I've watched gymnastics, sailing, weightlifting, judo, swimming, cycling and I'm getting ready to watch some diving in a minute. I've also caught snippets of badminton, water polo, volleyball and football. I have seen more sport in the last 48 hours than I have in the whole of my 27 years on the planet. When I heard Team GB won their first medal yesterday I cried. I actually cried. I had been watching our girls put in an outstanding gymnastics performance and all the pride and emotion got the better of me. Later on that evening I hurt myself cheering for Rebecca Adlington. The diving today starts at 3pm. I should be heading over to the hospital for blood tests but I'm putting them off until tomorrow because I want to watch Tom Daley.
I know the games have cost us a fortune and I know there is a scandal over the empty seats. But I don't actually care. The fact that I have been inspired to cheer for our athletes means that to me, the Olympics are a triumph.
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