INTERVIEW: SONIA O'SULLIVANAs chef de mission for the Irish teams, Sonia O'Sullivan will use her Olympic experience to guide the athletes involved, writes IAN O'RIORDAN

THOSE OF us on duty in London, to protect and to serve, with or without the honour and glory, must first go through Olympic Accreditation, which is not too unlike US Immigration.

You wait your turn in line, until summoned to a half-smiling and slightly nervous-looking woman, who then stares into a small computer screen, trying to work out if it really is you, or if there’s any reason they shouldn’t let you in. Go ahead. (Thank you.)

So you’re sent on your way – accredited! – with a large, laminated name tag attached to a purple and red lanyard, which you proudly put around your neck as if it were actually an Olympic medal. It’s not that you’ve done anything special to deserve it: you just don’t want to come back later and say sorry, mine’s gone missing, any chance of another one?

Last week, Sonia O’Sullivan arrived at Olympic Accreditation and went through the same process. But instead of being eyed-up suspiciously, she was asked if it really was her, as in, wow, the real Sonia O’Sullivan? Really?

She’s been getting a lot of that already, before the show even begins. If for the past two years O’Sullivan hasn’t been entirely sure what it means to be chef de mission for the Irish team she’ll realise it this evening, walking into the Olympic Stadium, the opening ceremony, a few steps behind the flag bearer, her transition from fiery competitor on the track to the official in the suit now complete.

She is, always will be, an official with a difference. The Olympic Accreditation is decorated with little black boxes (the important one being “ALL” – for Access All Venues), yet no amount of little back boxes could access O’Sullivan’s credentials.

Ever since she made that coltish burst for glory in the 3,000 metres in Barcelona, 20 years ago, O’Sullivan has experienced more high and lows on and off the Olympic stage than a small country, single-handedly carrying the hopes of Irish athletics for more than a decade after, before finally waving goodbye, in Athens, in 2004.

Last Sunday, back in London after a few days at home in Cobh, she went out for a bike ride, determined to conquer Box Hill, the steep climb around the Surrey countryside that might define the outcome of tomorrow’s men’s road race. She’d tried it a few times before, either went the wrong way, or was rained out, but this time she nailed it, and now knows exactly what awaits Nicholas Roche and Daniel Martin.

Nothing in the brief for chef de mission required this, and it’s the sort of self-motivated thoroughness that O’Sullivan has brought to the role, to protect and to serve.

Anyone who has so far witnessed her in action has been wholly impressed, at least those who remember the O’Sullivan protecting and serving herself, who once left an old friend waiting outside the front door while she finished her daily stretching and 400 sit-ups.

There’s an openness and intimacy about O’Sullivan too that was often absent in her competitive days, so much so that it now catches you off guard.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she says to me, “after I saw the Irish Times Olympic magazine, the other day. Tell me, what was Usain Bolt doing on the cover? Why not Katie Taylor?”

It’s not immediately apparent whether she’s being mischievous or not, whether her role should be to protect a gold medal favourite such as Taylor from the spotlight, or serve her up for more. Or it could be the idea that if O’Sullivan was the gold medal favourite here, with the attitude she had back in her prime, then she’d want to be on the cover of an Olympic magazine.

Pressure in O’Sullivan’s mind is being asked to do something you’re not capable of doing, which is why she never blamed her collapse in Atlanta in 1996 on pressure. If there was pressure on her going into Sydney in 2000 then she helped lift some of it, she reckons, by walking in the opening ceremony, carrying the Irish flag, and then 10 days later going out and winning her Olympic silver medal. It’s why she has no issue nominating Taylor for that task this evening, knowing she too has a similar wait before her opening bout on August 6th.

“There is that wave of pressure on her,” she says, “but I think her dad is a good wall, holding back a lot of that, and that they are managing it very well. I’ve been to a couple of events with her, and she’s very cautious herself, about talking it up, as I’m sure I would be myself.

“So I can relate to that, in some degree. But at the same time women’s boxing is a new sport, not really established yet. It was like when the women’s pole vault first came in, you could be fairly sure of the winner. She knows everybody that’s going to be there, and has beaten them all.”

O’Sullivan certainly didn’t press Taylor into carrying the flag, just eased her mind, perhaps, recounting how much she enjoyed the experience in Sydney, in 2000, and how it helped burst some of the thinly nervous bubble the Olympics so easily become.

“Obviously there were a few people who just weren’t in the running, because they were competing the next day, or this weekend. But for me, Sydney was great. I think it gives you more reason to go to the opening ceremony. I know a lot of athletes do find themselves debating whether to go or not, and it’s one of those things, very hard to explain unless you’ve actually done it. I think it’s something different to everybody, really.

“In fairness London have tried to make it that bit more athlete friendly, so that they’re not on the feet for too long. The plan is for all the athletes who do take part to stay in the village, until about 9pm, then start heading into the stadium for 10pm. It is quite late, but then again, everyone will stay in the village that night, and can sleep in a bit the next morning. But if they find themselves getting stressed about it in any way then don’t go, and they’ll probably be better off.

“But I also think it’s a good time for athletes to connect with each other. Athletes are always inclined to do their own thing, but it’s nice to get a little bit of team spirit going. And they spend a lot of time hanging around as well, so sometimes the opening ceremony can be a good way to pass the time.”

She will greet Taylor in the Athletes Village this afternoon, walk her through the process, but she will keep it to small talk. O’Sullivan knows her job is to ease any fears, not add to them – to point the way to athletes, not to hold their hands. She’s learning that process as she goes along.

“My first night, in the Village, I slept great. I’m usually up quite early, or by 7, but I actually woke up the first morning at 8.05, and couldn’t believe how late. That first night we went out, to get something to eat, and then couldn’t get back in. They had security guards all over the place, so I don’t know where the shortfall was. They kept sending us to another gate, and we ended up walking a complete outer lap of the Olympic Park, then ended up at the exact same gate we came in.

“It was midnight! But by doing that, I know exactly what way to go, and the wrong way. And I think that’s how it will work in a lot a cases, people finding their own way around, and I have it all worked out for the athletes.

“But my role, really, will change every day. There’ll be a meeting first thing every morning, to discuss whatever might be happening, or might have happened. Then it will all depend on the schedule, where I need to be, or if any one athlete needs talking to.”

She has taken out the highlight pen, and intends on being in Hyde Park next Saturday for the triathlon: “I think because I’ve made a tiny little connection to that event, by doing my first triathlon this summer, that I will appreciate it so much more. I also think it’s one of those events that has really evolved into the Olympics, a real spectacle, in Hyde Park as well.”

If her main role is to manage expectations, she’s so far done everything right. “I really feel everyone has prepared the best they possibly can. What more can we ask for? There’ll always be some illness or injuries, or things not quite right, but hopefully they’ll be inspired to be even better, reach greater heights.”

And perhaps another coltish burst from someone, just like she produced in 1992?

“Yeah, it surprised me a little too. Then when you do come so close, it’s nearly a disappointment. Because you might never get so close again.”

Just some of the many memories sure to be revisited this evening.