SPORT: LONDON 2012 OLYMPIC CLOSING CEREMONY

Chatting briefly about this to three swimming acquaintances in the pool at the Raich Carter Sports Centre this morning, I realised there would be a more divergent view of it than that for the Opening Ceremony. Of the three (all older than me), one went to bed halfway through, the other two liked it.

Me, I thought it was a mess.

Just about every decision they made was the wrong one. I should note that I'm trying not to let the fact that I was unfamiliar with many of the artists and their songs affect my impressions.

I didn't think much of the general design which I found very unappealing. I don't think that having many of the artists riding around on buses, in cars, or on trucks worked. There had to be a much better way of presenting them; even a better way of presenting them on buses, etc.

Even apart from the fact that most, if not all, of it was mimed to pre-recorded tracks, I'm sure the sound was 'off', at least in the beginning, and I was wearing my hearing aids. The arrangement to Waterloo Sunset was overblown and would have been far better accompanied by just an acoustic guitar. It didn't help that Ray Davies looked like a lecherous geriatric and didn't sound much better. The appearance of the Spice Girls confirmed what I always thought about them -overrated (or: just crap). George Michael sang one song too many (or two too many, for my taste). Russell Brand, excruciatingly embarrassing as he sang I Am The Walrus. And, much as I love The Who, they were just as bad a choice to end the show as was Paul McCartney two weeks and two days ago. And much more of which memory currently fails me. The musical montage of songs from the opening ceremony was far far better.

So, what did I like? Anything at all? Well, not a lot. Emeli Sande, Take That (a huge surprise there to people who know me, but compared to a lot of what was on offer their talent and presence just stood out), Jessie J (particularly with the remnants of Queen -I could have done without Brian May's preceding guitar solo and I love guitar solos) who has a powerful voice and enormous stage presence, the choreography to Kate Bush's  beautiful song Running Up The Hill, the visual tribute to John Lennon (an arsehole -cf. I Am The Walrus- as far as I'm concerned) and the playing of Imagine, his finest song with lyrics absolutely appropriate to the occasion and which are completely in tune (ho ho) with my own views.

Ultimately all I can say is that I'm so glad this wasn't the opening ceremony which was as inspirational as this was uninspired.

Thoughts on London Olympics 2012.

Like the opening ceremony, inspirational. It started with bang, stuttered a little for a couple of days, then exploded as everything started going well and medals began rolling in for Team GB. We got the best of British from the athletes, not just in their sporting efforts, but the way they conducted themselves -gracious, humble, proud, acknowledging the parts others played in their achievements (including in one poignant moment, her late mother). And the best of British came from the thousands of volunteers, in public and behind the scenes, unfailing helpful and cheerful, wonderful ambassadors for our country. We got the best of British too from the spectators -in Beijing four years earlier, audiences disappeared when the Chinese weren't on the field- who cheered every nationality and cheered every athlete from first to the last, every winner and every loser.

This is modern Britain and we showed the world why we still deserve to be called Great.

Favourite Heroes.

All the athletes are heroes for their dedication and perseverance but here are some of mine from the games.

Jessica Ennis

Mo Farah

Nicola Adams

Joanna Rowsell (right)

MORRISSEY: MAN OR ARSEHOLE?

Here is Morrissey, the Pope of Pop, with his view of the Olympics:

I am unable to watch the Olympics due to the blustering jingoism that drenches the event. Has England ever been quite so foul with patriotism? The "dazzling royals" have, quite naturally, hi-jacked the Olympics for their own empirical needs, and no oppositional voice is allowed in the free press. It is lethal to witness. As London is suddenly promoted as a super-wealth brand, the England outside London shivers beneath cutbacks, tight circumstances and economic disasters. Meanwhile the British media present 24-hour coverage of the "dazzling royals", laughing as they lavishly spend, as if such coverage is certain to make British society feel fully whole. In 2012, the British public is evidently assumed to be undersized pigmies, scarcely able to formulate thought.

 As I recently drove through Greece I noticed repeated graffiti seemingly everywhere on every available wall. In large blue letters it said WAKE UP WAKE UP. It could almost have been written with the British public in mind, because although the spirit of 1939 Germany now pervades throughout media-brand Britain, the 2013 grotesque inevitability of Lord and Lady Beckham (with Sir Jamie Horrible close at heel) is, believe me, a fate worse than life. WAKE UP WAKE UP.

I think it's safe to say that Morrissey has united the British public even more than the Olympics themselves with his jaded, jaundiced, complete misreading of the national mood and of the Olympics itself. So the answer to the question is-

Yes Morrissey, everyone* in the country thinks you are an arsehole.

*(Except those fans of his who, like the Pope of the Catholics, believe the Pope of Pop is infallible.)

Post Script.

Of course if the spirit of 1939 Germany did pervade this country, his records would be being taken out and publicly smashed. Hundred of his effigies would be strung up and burned. Shortly after that, a member of Her Majesty's Secret Service would go pop pop -two in the head.

But it doesn't. Instead we'll do what we British do best. Hold the idiot up for ridicule and laugh at the pompous git.

And then we'd invade Poland.

PPS

Just a later thought: you'd think that someone in the music business like Morrissey would know the difference between jingoism and celebration.

SPORT: LONDON OLYMPICS 2012 & ME

I'm ill. I have to be. I'm not sure if it's a form of mental illness or physical, but I've come down with it. I can't think of any other reason for my behaviour to have changed so radically.

I, who have virtually no interest in watching sport, have come down with Olympic Fever.

It's Jessica! 

I caught her live last night, powering home to win the 800 metres and simultaneously the gold medal for the heptathlon.

It's 17.00 on Sunday 5th of August and the first thing I did after waking from an afternoon nap was to log on to BBC News Online to look up the latest results which included two more golds, one for sailing, and the other for Andy Murray hammering Federer in the Men's Singles Finals (pity he didn't do that at Wimbledon this year, but let's not carp). It's too early for a full match report but I'll be checking up as soon as I finish writing this post.

I'm still not watching BBC1 for the full live coverage but I am watching BBC News 24 Channel very frequently as it's transformed itself into the London Olympics Highlights channel (emphasis on team GB) for the duration. Occasionally there is also still some real news.

I also surf the net for other sources of information about the Games, particularly other countries views which I find interesting.

Print media not so much as I only buy two papers a week -The Saturday Times and The Times on Sunday. Normally I ignore the Saturday sports reports and only open Sunday's sport supplement if Sunderland have been playing (football in the Premiership, in case you were wondering). This weekend I've read just about every word.

I love reading how friendly not just the volunteers have been to overseas visitors but the audience themselves who cheer on sports persons of other nations and gallant losers like the rower who had never been in a boat until six months ago. One young woman who wore the Dutch flag painted on per face was English and confessed to "feeling a bit Australian yesterday".  Danny Boyle brilliantly portrayed our nation character in the Opening Ceremony (which must be capitalised) and now the general public attending the Games (it too) are doing it just as well. Proud to be British (but English in particular).

The Royal Mail are doing commemorative stamps for all gold medal winners which is a pretty great idea. Above is 29 year old Mo Farah who arrived from Somalia aged 8, could have been a trouble maker but was taken under the wing of a teacher who became a second father to him. Mo is married with a step-daughter and one of his own on the way. That's Britain for you.

Go Team GB!