Thoughts of a couch potato

Sisters are doing it for themselves

David Rudisha - athlete of the games

Well, that's that then. Seventeen glorious days to enjoy the best of the Olympics, well served up with generous crowds and the bonus of more Team GB medals than I had anticipated. If Danny Boyle's opening pageant was creative and studded with humour, good stories and better values; then the closing ceremony was an over-elaborate pastiche of pop celebrity, patriotic pomp with a playlist that failed to reflect either the best of British music or the  Olympic ideals. It was delivered by a cast that must have emptied the Priory. The duped athletes, arriving in a fabulous phalanx of flags and oozing energy, were assigned to mosh pits that must have made them wish that they had gone real clubbing; and where was Usain?

An extra £41million had been sanctioned by the PM and the Culture Secretary, Jeremy Hunt, in addition to the £40million set aside by LOCOG to stage the ceremonies. According to the Daily Telegraph, the Prime Minister after being presented with a range of possible options had personally insisted on including the elaborate elements of the closing ceremony in order to maximise and promote London for the global television audience. Kim Gavin, the artistic director, used his windfall on extravagant set designs that sampled the very worst of the culture we are supposedly trying to escape from - all flash and no substance. Jessie J in a white Rolls Royce is the opposite of the 'Price Tag' sentiment; there were many over the hill performers including catwalk models and the playlist sadly missed the moment.

After truly spectacular games, where were the Stones with 'It's All Over Now', Dire Straits with 'Love over Gold', Pink Floyd with 'Time' and why did Annie Lennox not celebrate the success of women at the London Olympics with 'Sisters are doing it for themselves' instead of an underwhelming version of 'Little Bird'? The only A-listers were John Lennon, Freddie Mercury and the Spice Girls, the first two dead and the Spice Girls miming badly. John Lennon's 'Imagine ... there's no countries' was an interesting message for the assembled nations. Kate Bush's 'Running up that Hill' has long been a favourite on my running playlist but she at least wisely refused to perform. Oasis are no more and neither is Wonderwall when left to Liam - 'by now you should've somehow realized what you're not to do'; I bet Noel has a beady eye on that take. It might as well have been done by the Kaiser Chiefs who seemed to be the standby band for most other absent groups on the night. Elbow kept it going for a while and Eric Idle proved that humour is timeless. The press had by this time lost their critical faculties and were in total gushing overload, although it was notable that Hugh Edwards, the lead presenter, hardly said a word, what was he thinking?

The games themselves were a triumph for the selection or building of venues that worked. If only the ticketing had been as good, the locals in Newham seem to have no more luck than the rest of us in getting tickets. Meanwhile, David Cameron, the PM and fat cats played musical chairs around the venues with the army and volunteers keeping their seats warm whilst they sped round London in the fast lanes. The spec for the games seemed as much for elite chauffeured spectators as elite athletes. 

The most inspiring shots came from the velodrome, athletics, gymnastics and then events such as handball and the triathlon. Football, at last, got its comeuppance - people couldn't be bothered with summer football, the stadiums were difficult to fill. There was something very unolympian about overpaid footballers competing on the same programme as athletes who have given up jobs and careers to be at the games with little or no financial reward. There are too many sports now at the games and men's football would be top of my list for eviction, although the women's game probably deserves its place. And archery, fencing, table tennis, BMX cycling and golf (an Olympic Sport in 2016) could also be evicted without any loss to the spectacle. I would prefer darts to any of these if only as a tribute to the late great sid waddell.

Another assertion that needs knocking on the head is the rant by Lord Monaghan, the BOA chairman, who claimed that the high proportion of privately-educated Team GB medallists was "unacceptable". He said that "just 7 per cent of the population go to independent schools – but more than half of Britain’s golds in the 2008 Beijing Games were won by former private school pupils." Well this proportion dropped sharply in these games to less than 30%. If you were to exclude the two sports of rowing, a sport hosted in the grounds of Eton, and equestrian events from which the vast majority of the privately educated medallists are found, then the state schools provided almost all UK's medals. 

Yes, we need a curriculum that provides all youngsters with the opportunity to sample sports but the collapse of school sports came in the mid 1980s when the Thatcher government went head to head with the teaching unions, presumably with one objective being to increase the number of pupils at private schools. And then the present coalition government refused to fund the two hours of compulsory PE that the previous government had introduced. It is this sort of instinctive elitism that has been the cause of poor performances in previous games.  What has happened over the past ten years is that state funding has provided the support for athletes from less wealthy backgrounds to train with top coaches and excellent facilities. This has made the difference and is in danger of being lost in the raft of austerity measures that the government are intent on delivering. We should also recognise that whilst cycling and running are universal activities that take place in almost all countries, rowing and equestrian events are minority sports even in the UK.  Few other countries participate in these top-end activities which means that it is far easier to win medals in these sports.

The National Audit Office had identified that there was virtually no contingency fund set aside for the games. Fortunately, the volunteers played their part big time responding to any crisis with a flexibility that G4S had omitted from their business plan. So did the army and if things got tricky then Boris Johnson became an emergency clown: seats empty - rotate blundering Boris and the army around the venues; no medals after two days, stick Boris on the zip wire to divert the press; crap closing ceremony - get him to dance to the Spice Girls. Meanwhile, the PM continued to be accident-prone. After his first two years when he seemed to have the knack of coming out smelling of roses every time he fell in the shit, he has become a Frank Spencer figure - accident-prone and the guarantor of plucky British losers every time he turned up at an event.  His tendency to make policy on the hoof shows no sign of abating and meanwhile the economy just gets shafted by George, no not the one performing at the closing ceremony, the two Georges are a double whammy of disasters.

My athlete of the games has to be David Rudisha of Kenya for the way he took the race on and with consummate ease destroyed a class field and broke the world record as well. Lord Coe was right to highlight this but then he has been on the ball on most things, as even Steve Ovett graciously acknowledged. The American female sprinters Alyson Felix and Sanya Richards Ross were all elegance and grace in winning the 200m and 400m respectively and then the 4x 400 metres relay. The Brownlie brothers were superb in the Triathlon, Alistair even having to install a hot tub in his front garden to keep his training going during a stress fracture. 

Gabby Douglas, the flying squirrel, was sublime in gymnastics. The 15-year-old Latvian swimmer, Ruta Meilutyte, trained in Britain did what none of the British swimmers could manage and was a surprise gold medallist. She showed that the innocence of youth is no deterrent. I was pleased for Kath Grainger winning gold on the fourth attempt, I remember meeting her after the Sydney games and being impressed by her determination. And on the BBC website that allowed you to put in your height and weight to find your competitor nearest in size, she emerged as my match. And then the cycling, Laura Trott was the outstanding performer - all humility and bubbling fun and a role model for girls in sport. Bradley was the supreme professional and only Victoria Pendleton could lose her last race and still be a winner.

The BBC coverage was exceptional and, as well as the superbly professional Claire Balding, Michael Johnson, Hazel Irving, Chris Boardman and Gabby Logan we also had some new knowledgable and engaging presenters emerging as Mark Cavendish and Mark Foster took to the mike. Only the terminally smug Gary Lineker dropped the baton for the BBC proving once again that ... it's not about the money, money, money.

Rūta Meilutytė

Brownlee Brothers in Triathalon

Gabby Douglas in full flow

Bradley Wiggins

Victoria Pendleton and Anna Meares

Alyson Felix

Sanya Richards Ross

Kath Grainger and Anna Watkins

Forlorn Mayor of London stuck on Zip wire

Inspiring an older generation

Q4 cyclist

Herb Elliot

King Bradley

Yes the Olympics have worked for me as they always have done since watching the Rome Olympics in 1960 and being inspired by middle distance runner Herb Elliot to take up running which has continued for over 50 years. Yesterday I switched allegiance to cycling in homage to Bradley Wiggins and took the road bike for a spin for the first time since April. I have recently fitted a cycle computer to measure distance and speed. The gears needed adjustment so I decided to take a flatter route rather than trust my workmanship over the Duke's pass and around Loch Katrine which is my usual route. 

A couple of miles out, having negotiated the potholes and jetpatcher drumlins leaving the village, I hit a rare section of smooth tarmac and I was cycling at 20mph with no discomfort. I was wearing a helmet and shades as well as cycle shorts and a cycling jersey for the first time, although it was a mars bar in my rear patch pocket not a gel (whatever that is!). A club cyclist acknowledged me and I overtook a tractor. My route included a road that was closed for bridge work but I pressed on thinking that I could carry the bike through the road works. There was no need the road men waved me through and then the district nurse pulled in to let me pass and she apologised for slowing me down. Cyclists are now the kings of the road thanks to Bradley and co. 

On the long smooth section of road into Arnprior I was pedalling at 23mph and it seemed easy, there was probably a tail wind. I had intended to stop after 10 or 12 miles and have a drink and my mars bar but that seemed a bit wimpish so I drank as I rode and replaced the bottle in the cage rather than throwing it to the passing crowds. There was no drop of pace over the 21 miles which I completed in a respectable 70 minutes, my mars bar had melted.  

Why had I not become a cyclist like Bradley? When I was 32 I had better sideburns, enough hair to not need a crash helmet and my right leg was reinforced with 5 titanium screws. 

Olympic Illusions

A captive audience of Topdog Millionaires

Drumming nirvana - all night long

  Why wasn't Industrial Disease on the playlist?

So that's where all the NHS beds have gone

Queen drops in

Wow, the opening ceremony was a surreal pageant that defied comparison with anything that had gone before. China had set a standard so high that Danny Boyle's creative riposte was a games changer. He even managed to exclude the corporate sponsors from the visuals of the ceremony and substituted royalty instead. As well as poking fun at British ways, he celebrated the talent and diversity in Britain by involving 10,000 energised volunteers as a guarantor of quality and dedication that is never achieved by ruthless low wage contractors who have threatened to derail the games in recent weeks. There were all sorts of subtle references including a flying pig over the Battersea Power station just like the one on the Pink Floyd Animals album. There was still too much of the "who's like us" sentiment but it came from Lord Coe, Jaque Rogge, President of the International Olympic Committee, the BBC and the Locog panjandrums.

The first day of the Olympics resulted in no medals and shattered the expectations of an overly nationalistic media that we were going to collect medals by the drumful. UK Sport is aiming for 48 medals and 19 golds and has said that less than 40 would be a failure. Yesterday's paper predicted how we could win 84 and 25 respectively. I doubt that we will win this many and even 19 golds would be a real success.

We should know from all those disappointing world cups for Scotland and England that we are nowhere near as good as the media hacks and sports administrators would have us believe in most sports. We win our medals at minority sports such as sailing, rowing, cycling which require facilities and equipment beyond the reach of all but the wealthiest nations. Eric the eel was a totem for undertrained athletes from developing countries who lack facilities or sports science and coaching. Britain used to be the same and as recently as the 1980's we had Eddie the eagle as our plucky British loser. There is nothing wrong with this; sport is more than anything about being inclusive, every elite athlete has to start at the local level and it is the opportunity to try that matters.

Far more disturbing for the success of the games were the empty seats for many events including swimming, basketball and beach volleyball. For Jeremy Hunt of all people to complain that it is the fault of the sponsors is hypocritical as well as invidious. But this government is imperious and has no shame when it comes to dumping on others when it will shift the blame from the government and Locog. If 5% 0f the seats went to the 'Olympic family' and 8% to the sponsors, why were more than 50% of the seats empty?

I think Locog and the usually accomplished Lord Coe are being economical with the ticket fiasco. Could it be that they are the ones that tried (and failed) to tout tickets at £1000 plus? Even the bankers would struggle these days to buy at those prices. The Olympic Games are certainly helping pump up the public distaste for rampant corporatism and greed. Which, if any, of the following products or services, have gone up in your esteem over recent weeks: McDonald's, Visa, G4S, Coca-Cola, Atos, Samsung, Panasonic and Dow?

Like millions of others, I have tried to get tickets without any success, and it is galling that the freeloaders who have been gifted tickets by the international sporting federations and sponsors fail to turn up for early rounds or morning sessions. It would make a lot of sense if all empty seats at the start of sessions were sold at a realistic price (say £20) to the real fans who are prepared to queue and who create the atmosphere at the games. The massive crowds and support for the cycling event have epitomised the type of enthusiasm that real fans can bring to the games.

The games will not be a failure if we win fewer medals provided that we nurture friendships and help unify all nations through celebrating sporting excellence and participation in sport. This applies not just to the athletes but all those watching who see the world competing, celebrating and laughing in unison. 

The biggest problem is as always the arrival of the fat cats. Zil lanes, zealous sponsors, £1000+ tickets are all symbolic of the type of games that Danny Boyle's opening reviled. I only hope that Locog gets the message and salvages the real spirit of the Olympics from the corporate domination and influence that is the biggest threat to its success. I would bring back Siobhan Sharpe from  Twenty Twelve to defuse the chaos of ticketing. Perhaps they have, who else could have persuaded Bradley Wiggins to ring a big bell just 10 hours before he had to cycle 155miles in 'that road race thing'.

Cyclist rings a bell - an old British custom

Siobhan Sharpe and Ian Fletcher - let them sort it out

Authentic Marketing

https://visitcoll.co.uk/

The visit to Coll prompted a search of websites to obtain information and what stood out was the glorious honesty of the visitcoll website which is designed and maintained by the local community.'Coll has, for example, no visitor points; no tourist information; no interpretation panels to ruin the landscape; no theme parks; next to no signposts; no mobile phone coverage (except a few spots, and then only sometimes); no public transport of any sort; no McDonald's, TESCO or Apple Store etc. (and long may it remain that way); no policeman; no traffic lights; no street lights; no parking meters; the worst road surfaces you are likely to find in the UK; the most expensive diesel and petrol in the UK; and often - nowhere to go whilst it rains.' Yep, Coll was all these things and as such a wonderful escape from the avalanche of guidance and urgings of corporate Britain.

Compare this to the vacuous blurb found on the visitscotland website, the Scottish Government-funded website that is supposed to promote tourism. It does not appear on the first 20 pages of a Google search for Coll and then is found yoked together with Tiree, it's a very different neighbouring isle.
'The fish-shaped rocky island of Coll lies less than 7 miles off the coast of Mull. The CalMac ferry drops off at Coll's only real village, Arinagour, whose whitewashed cottages line the western shore of Loch Eatharna, a popular safe anchorage for boats. The village also hosts most of the island's services and facilities. Coll offers a range of accommodation options, but bed spaces are inevitably limited, so advance booking is always recommended.

If you were looking for evidence of small communities providing a reliable witness and the 'top-down' voice of a centralised quango's empty rhetoric you couldn't find a better comparison. The brutal truth of the visitcoll site has an authentic voice; VisitScotland is full of marketing clichés that generate instant boredom but no trust.

Olympic Sponsors

The Olympic torch has also provided some fine examples of the absurdity of modern marketing. Not only are a large proportion of the torch bearers nominated by the sponsoring companies but local businesses are being excluded from getting any coverage on the torch route. It has become a rolling billboard for the sponsors and an exclusion zone for any advertising that conflicts with sponsors - Coca-Cola, Samsung and the Bank of Scotland among them.

In a Borders town last week, the dais for the torch bearers' handover with the Provost and a group of young people was abandoned because local shop signs were visible behind it. Without the platform, the assembled crowd were unable to watch an Olympic hero, Allan Wells, the Moscow 100m gold medallist, hand over the torch. The feedback from several sources suggests that the marketing juggernauts of Coca Cola etc. aided by overzealous Metropolitan Police Officers were riding roughshod over carefully planned local activities. Across the country, local heroes who have served the community or overcome adversity were sacrificed as torch-bearers to create opportunities for wealthy wannabes who paid to carry the torch. What a sad nation we are becoming.

Alan Wells in Selkirk

Hampden Park, which is to host some group football games, is unable to sell tickets - this is not an anti-London Olympics stance, it is so that the crowd will only be able to drink Coca-Cola instead of Irn Bru, Scotland's indigenous fizzy drink. An argument is still raging about what drink and food can be consumed and the size of the exclusion zone around Hampden.

But not at Hampden for the Olympics

This sort of top-down corporate marketing is anathema to an increasingly savvy public and will hopefully resurrect the sale of more local food and drink around the country. It does raise the question of whether companies realise the adverse effects of their totalitarian marketing. 'Boycott Global, Buy Local' would be a good response to the big brand exclusion zones that Lord Coe and co. are trying to impose on us.