Missing the Olympics

I don't know about you, but I'm suffering from POST, or Post Olympic Stress Trauma.  I'll be absolutely honest and admit that, although I was quite looking forward to the sport-fest, I wasn't counting the minutes or anything.  Then, when than blow-you-away opening ceremony was followed by all sorts of sturdy souls rowing, biking, swimming, shooting and fencing and so on, I couldn't move from in front of the telly.

When I did move, it was with the radio glued to my ear to catch the latest from Eton Dorney or the Equestrian events at Greenwich.  The true weirdness of sports such as handball (a walkover for the Argentines, you'd think - they can always be relied on to put a ball in the back of the net using their hands) and the unconfined hilarity of the Olympic Walk where everyone looks like Donald Duck were revealed.

Now it's all over, I feel like putting up hula-hoops in the form of olympic rings, in the hope they'll be tempted back, like some Greater Manchester version of a cargo cult, but reason tells me that the only thing to do is to sit it out until the para-Olympics.

Apart from anything else, it was brilliant to see everyone looking so cheerful all the time. Even - get this - Andy Murray.  Come to think about it, we were all ,ore than a bit cheerful about that one.  In his 28 Days Later thriller, Murray bit back. Wow.

There's been an awful lot said about the Olympics "inspiring a generation".  All I was really inspired to do was to Velcro myself to the sofa for a fortnight, but I get the point. It was like a shop window for all sorts of sports that look soooo much fun.   Anyone for Beach Volleyball?

When I did move, it was with the radio glued to my ear to catch the latest from Eton Dorney or the Equestrian events at Greenwich.  The true weirdness of sports such as handball (a walkover for the Argentines, you'd think - they can always be relied on to put a ball in the back of the net using their hands) and the unconfined hilarity of the Olympic Walk where everyone looks like Donald Duck were revealed.

Now it's all over, I feel like putting up hula-hoops in the form of olympic rings, in the hope they'll be tempted back, like some Greater Manchester version of a cargo cult, but reason tells me that the only thing to do is to sit it out until the para-Olympics.

Apart from anything else, it was brilliant to see everyone looking so cheerful all the time. Even - get this - Andy Murray.  Come to think about it, we were all ,ore than a bit cheerful about that one.  In his 28 Days Later thriller, Murray bit back. Wow.

There's been an awful lot said about the Olympics "inspiring a generation".  All I was really inspired to do was to Velcro myself to the sofa for a fortnight, but I get the point. It was like a shop window for all sorts of sports that look soooo much fun.   Anyone for Beach Volleyball?