'Legacy' has replaced 'sustainability' as the buzzword of choice for those in thrall to jargon, while the rest of us are simply astonished at the sporting endeavour, writes MIRIAM LORDin London
IN YEARS to come, when old-timers are asked what it was like during the Great London Olympics of 2012, they will smile and sigh and recall the spirit of the medal blitz.
That weekend when gold, silver and bronze rained down upon a surprised and grateful nation.
The Metal of Britain – hard fought and hard won by old and new athletic heroes – has united this country in an unbridled celebration of happy patriotism and a wild explosion of red, white and blue.
It’s cheesy, big-city stuff, yet true: people are smiling more here and strangers are talking to one another. They drift towards the screens set up in public squares, pausing to see the action then staying to watch the medal ceremonies.
Walk down a street and you hear cheers and applause from around the corner. It might be from one of those London 2012 viewing points, with their benches and canvas awnings. But more likely, it’s coming from a thronged pavement outside a pub, where delighted drinkers watch television through the windows, raising their beer in the air after another hometown success.
It took a while, however. The natural pessimism which characterised the lead-up to, and early days of, these games gave merry way on Saturday to a pent-up release of national pride.
So when the skies opened yesterday morning on the women’s marathon, it didn’t deter the crowds from turning out in their tens of thousands to cheer on the sodden runners. Andy Murray in the tennis sent the sentiment stratospheric.
London has claimed ownership of its Olympics now.
The change in mood began with the rowers, was primed by a wry cyclist with Cockney street cred, and detonated with a hat-trick of athletics golds.
Saturday night was extra special at Olympic Park.
Huge crowds swarmed towards the main stadium and aquatic centre for what would be a massive night of sport. More made their way through the wildflower meadows to picnic on the grass banks of the river and watch the drama unfold on the big screen.
At the weekend, the start of the track and field programme – the undoubted glamour end of the Olympic equation in these parts – cranked up excitement considerably around the campus.
There is just no comparison between the buzz in the Stratford complex last week and the crackling sense of anticipation in the air now.
For starters on Saturday, the world of competitive swimming would witness the final Olympic race of one of the greatest Olympians of all time: Michael Phelps bidding to win his 18th gold and take his clanking haul of swag to an amazing 22 medals.
It also marked the last night of a remarkable and raucous week in the pool.
If that wasn’t enough, the home crowd streaming into the main arena nursed reasonable expectation of at least one gold medal. They were the lucky ones with the golden tickets, the envy of their peers, carefully holding their long rectangular strips of card, keeping them crease-free and pristine for posterity.
Those tickets will be trotted out when the time comes to tell of the part they played in encouraging the giddy spirit of Saturday’s track medal blitz.
Back in the Aquatic Centre, with its flaring manta ray exterior and curved wooden ceiling, the crowd was oblivious to the heroics beyond in the stadium.
Their seats rose high into the winged sides of the building – temporary extensions to be removed later, leaving the building intended by the architect, “in legacy”.
“Legacy” is the buzzword of these Olympics. It’s knocked “sustainability” off the podium as the organisers run the legacies off themselves insisting all the expensive infrastructure will be put to permanent use when the spectacle is over.
Just four races to round off the Olympic gala. The first, a women’s sprint, was over in seconds. The next, a men’s metric mile, over in four minutes.
Then, the grand finale, and for Michael Phelps, one last sprint down those soon to become memory lanes.
He took gold along with his team-mates in the 400m medley, shouldering his share of the burden to become the most decorated Olympian in history.
Phelps likes the decoration aspect. Afterwards, he reflected on the sweetest night of his unrivalled swimming career.
“I was able to really put the final cherry on top tonight; put [on] all the whipped cream I wanted . . . and sprinkles. I was able to top off the sundae.”
It had just passed 9pm when a smiling Phelps walked on to the deck for his last medal ceremony.
The crowd in the steamy stands cheered him to the rafters when he was got his knickerbocker glory. Many in the wings seated high above the bulging ribbed ceiling, which curves and tapers at both ends to resemble a whale.
Phelps cried when the enormity of the moment hit him, looking to the stands for his mother, family and trainer. He took his time leaving the winners’ podium, lingered to chat to fans and a photographer on his victory parade around the deck.
Then one more trophy, the International Swimming Federation making a special presentation to “the greatest swimmer in history”. It gave the beaming American more time to soak in the atmosphere and the camera crews further opportunity to film him.
Phelps and his fellow swimmers unfurled a large banner and stood behind it. “Thank You, London” it read.
“Thank you Michael!” roared back his besotted fans.
Finally, the peerless Phelps walked under the whale and bowed out to the sound of Bruce Springteen’s Born in the USA. “I’ve been able to do everything I wanted,” he said.
After the men’s relay race, the medals were awarded for the women’s relay medley. As Phelps made his way back to the warm-down pool, 17-year-old Missy Franklin collected another gold. The old master giving way to the little Missy.
And so on it goes . . .
The synchronised swimming is next.