TV VIEW:DAY . . . DAY . . . (how many days of Olympics have there been now?) . . . a few days into the Olympics and by mid-afternoon our neighbours were dripping in gold, our palms sore from sportingly and graciously applauding – no, seriously – just as they were beginning to wonder if God Save the Queen would ever get an airing at London 2012, apart from during the ceremonies bookending the festivities.
“It’s a gold rush,” Sue Barker beamed, Jake Humphrey beaming back, after the one and possibly only Bradley Wiggins had done his thing – not a whole lot long after Heather Stanning and Helen Glover had done theirs in the women’s pair rowing.
The collective sigh of golden relief from the BBC studio measured in or around gale force eight, causing quite a blustery gust in the living rooms of Ireland, Sue and Jake exhaling joyously, and sensing, the golden duck having been broken, a heap more golden times were to come.
Stanning and Glover were, understandably enough, a bit on the emotional side after their triumph, the tears flowed, although their elation paled next to that of commentators Garry Herbert and Dan Topolski. Garry, in particular, so ecstatic in those closing inches the Waterford Glass beside the telly almost shattered.
John Inverdale and Steve “Sir” Redgrave were a bit chuffed too, although Inverdale put a bit of dampener on proceedings by telling us that soldier Stanning, her Olympic work done, would now probably be sent back to Afghanistan. Redgrave didn’t know quite what to say to that – although his face said “hmm, unlucky” – a dose of non-Olympic reality that reminded him that for some, the war on terror has to be combined with the quest for gold. Gas auld world all the same.
Still, Stanning and Glover’s success was a lovely thing, a contrast to the complete and utter dejection over Britain’s men’s eight only taking bronze.
You know, there’s only so much more we, as a medal-hungry nation, can take of people regarding silver and bronze as calamitous, it’s a little like a Lotto winner complaining that the previous jackpot was €126,372 higher than theirs.
As Roy would say, “get over it, like”, and be grateful for small-ish mercies.
Wiggins, of course, raised Britain’s spirits again after the shame that was that rowing bronze, the Beeb’s Hugh Porter sensing gold might be in the offing when he noted that the fella has “wings on his wheels”.
Mind you, Wiggins had seemed confident enough ahead of the race, telling us that after the Tour de France “this is going be a piece of piss . . . an hour time-trial to make history should be a doddle.”
Some folk were aghast, detecting that there was just a hint of cockiness in his remarks, but much as you might try, it’s tremendously hard not to love the divil. And the sideburns. They’re magnificent.
“I’m not sure how aerodynamic they are, luckily they fit under his helmet,” said Chris Boardman.
Once Wiggins had clinched gold, the BBC sent Reggie Yates out and about through the crowd. Is Reggie from children’s telly? Just wondering. He spoke to everyone like they were still in nappies. One lady who – and no offence is meant here at all – seemed slightly barking bonkers, looked like she was about to kidnap Reggie and tie up him up in her basement, grabbing his arm and telling him he’d look gorgeous with red sideburns.
Meanwhile, over on Twitter, cycling experts were howling abuse at the BBC commentary team, alleging they had spent the entire event mis-identifying the competitors, suggesting it was a repeat of that earlier Olympic cycling fiasco, but not knowing a pedal from a turnip it was hard for some of us to back up their allegations.
Never mind, it was a doddle for Wiggins, and that was the main thing, much as it was for our very own John Joe Nevin.
“The crowd are shouting ‘John Joe’ – the name he goes by at the Olympic Games,” Jimmy Magee told us, not explaining what other name he might go by when his name is John Joe.
No worries, John Joe eased on through, “when he has a good day, it’s a reeeeeEEEeeeeeeal good day” said Jimmy, sounding disconcertingly like Barry White in uber-wooing mode.
It was a less good day for those embroiled in Shuttlegate, the badminton players chucked out of the Olympics because did their damndest not to win their final group matches, in the hope of meeting less good opponents in the knockout phase of the competition.
The International Olympic Committee was appalled, the same IOC that sanctioned the group phase thingie in badminton that made this lark nigh on inevitable.
Granted, some of us were horrified, the same some of us who said “ah sure, what harm?” when Ireland played out that draw with the Dutch in Italia 90.
Funny old game, badminton.
