Final Set of Rings

I was just reading a great column about the stories of the games on ESPN, and wanted to draw up my own little list.  So, one last set of Olympic rings, one for each of my top five stories of London 2012:

Blue - Bert Le Clos, a man more proud of his son than anyone I've ever seen

Black - Manteo Mitchell, the American runner who finished his leg of a 400 metre relay heat on a broken leg for the good of his team-mates.  The story of the team from the Bahamas beating the USA in the final was great, but sad if only for that fact that Mitchell had to settle for a silver medal after his extraordinary effort.

Red - Mo Farah.  Of course.  You'll remember I was quite keen for people to support him.  Being in the stadium, with a perfect view of the finish line no less, when Mo won his first gold and capped that insane 47 minutes of British athletics was the best moment of my life so far.  Nothing less.

Gold - Kath Grainger.  Three times a silver medal heartbreak and then back for gold, in front of a home crowd.  The Scot has laid down a definitive example for every athlete who fell short at these games.

Green - The Games Makers.  The great legacies of the second London Olympics, in 1948, was the volunteer programme.  This idea has been used by every host city since, but few can have seen quite such a collective effort as 2012.  Seeing a young volunteer standing half an hour away from a venue armed only with a pink hand, smiling and joking with twice the enjoyment of someone who actually had a seat for the games was one of the most inspirational sights of the whole fortnight.  Full marks to whoever let them write their own scripts too - the inventiveness and wit was an absolute joy.  How can we start a 'buy a Games Maker a pint' campaign?

My absolute favourite Games Maker story is that of 78 year-old Keith Parkinson, who volunteered as a schoolboy in 1948 and was back in uniform again this year in Greenwich Park.

Imagine

I can't begin to imagine what the world's athletes must be feeling now.  How do you deal with the morning after four years' work?  A lifetime's dreaming?  I've just been a spectator and I'm struggling to fill the Olympics-shaped gap.  I've been watching montages and reading articles all morning.  This is the sports fan equivalent of re-reading old love letters the morning after a break-up.  Soon I worry I'll graduate to Facebook stalking the IOC to see how it's getting on with its new city, Rio.  She's got better legs but will she make them laugh?

On July 18th, 2002 I read an article on the front page of the Telegraph's sport pullout with the headline 'London Must Bid'.  David Welch, the then sports editor of the paper, made the case that London would never have a better chance of hosting the Olympic Games than in 2012.  Welch's prediction looks reasonable ten years on, with the next games in Rio likely to be followed by visits to Japan and the USA.  I don't believe Europe will see another Summer Olympics before 2028.

"...it is not just about the regeneration of East London, laudable though that is. Nor just about the projected financial benefits that might accrue from investment and tourism. Nor the potential feel-good factor. It is also about sport... Why? Because sport matters in people's lives. Much more than some like to accept."

Welch sadly died last year, just missing the glorious festival of sport which through his paper's sustained campaign he did more than most to bring about.  I remember reading those lines of his as if it were five minutes ago, however.  From that moment on, for a decade, I have been imagining what these two weeks could be like.  The odds were long and lengthening before Seb Coe took over the failing bid.  Then, on July 6th 2005, I got to watch IOC President Jacques Rogge open an envelope and announce that I could start imagining what they would be like.

I spent that day sitting in Trafalgar Square imagining.  I remember that a TV crew from Asia pointed a camera at me and asked me whether I thought the games would be a success here.  I told them that it would because of the fanatical British love of sport.  Sport matters in people's lives.  I was confident that would be enough to overcome any obstacle.  I took home a massive plastic banner reading 'London 2012 - Candidate City', which one day I'll find a use for, I swear.

Now I don't get to imagine any more.  I suppose that's one of the reasons I feel a bit sad.  For ten years and twenty five days I've been able to imagine what all or part of a London Olympics would be like.  It's hit every one of my expectations (including being less than perfect, but honest about it).  It's not coming back now, there won't be another one in my lifetime.  I made the mistake of agreeing to be out of the country during the Paralympics.  That future tense, with its unlimited possibilities, just became memory.  But what a memory.

On the first morning of the games, I made a decision that since I was only ever going to get one Olympics in my home city, I was going to make the most of every second, and I was going to write down every memory so that I'd have something to look back on when there wasn't any more imagining to be done.  The problem was finding time to to both, to witness and record.  Trying not to view every event through a viewfinder or over the top of a laptop.

So in the past three days I've let this blog lapse, and just looked on.

I saw a handball semi final where a stadium of Norwiegans celebrated their comprehensive victory over South Korea, reminding me that for every curious Brit discovering a new sport there are a hundred dedicated followers worldwide who've been living and breathing it for decades.

Then I watched home favourite Lutalo Muhammad overcome his selection controversy to win bronze in the Taekwondo arena.  I saw a beautiful moment that didn't make the montages where a bronze medalist from Italy put his arm around his opponent from Afghanistan to help him across the mat when the Afghan literally couldn't stand the disappointment.

Yesterday I watched the last silver medal of London 2012 won for Britain by Samantha Murray in the Modern Pentathlon, after an often surreal afternoon of horse riding, shooting and cross-country running.  I saw a Mexican woman jump a fence while hanging underneath her horse, an overenthusiastic ride jump clean out of the arena rather than wait for their gate to be opened and an Egyptian athlete taking a baby who couldn't have been more than a few months old on her lap of honour (I've not been able to find out the baby's age, but I discovered instead that the athlete is Aya Medany, and that her father won a Nobel Peace Prize alongside Al Gore for his work on climate change).  I'm worried that in years to come I'll be sad not to have better memories of those days, but maybe that'll leave some room for that lost imagination.

32 years after his death, John Lennon managed to steal the show at last night's closing ceremony with a song about the power of the imagination.  The BBC used it to end their coverage of the games, and if you can watch it without a lump in your throat you should check your pulse.  Perhaps my favourite response to the end of the games is a piece in the Guardian asking whether we can imagine a Britain that retains the magic of the past fortnight.  Even getting ready to move back abroad next week, I can save a little imagination for the Paralympic games, which are going to be the best attended and supported in history.

So thanks, London 2012.  Thanks for a fortnight of unmatchable memories.  Perhaps thanks even more for a decade of imagination... though I could not, ever, have imagined 29 British golds.  Or the sound 80,000 people can make when they will a man down a final straight.  Or this.

The London Olympics:  Sometimes even your imagination can't go far enough.

Hoop Dreams

Broadcasters in America want the US men's basketball team playing late at night here, so that's exactly what broadcasters in America get.  This is bad news for the fans who had bought tickets for the afternoon session at the North Greenwich Arena (the O2 to everyone outside the Olympics) hoping to see the stars of the US 'Dream Team'.  Also affected are fans of every one of the other seven teams who suddenly find their nations competing in the other session.  Broadcasters in America can do one.

We flash a home-made sign about for a bit, hoping to find a French or Spanish fan who wants to make a trade, but the Americans are the hottest ticket in town, and eventually it's time to give best and accept our new double-bill of Russia against Lithuania and France versus Spain.  The seats are almost in the back row, but have as good a view as you could ever hope for in a venue of this size.  There's the full American-style razzle dazzle, trampolining slam-dunkers at half time and the strange use of a noise that sounds as though Sonic the Hedgehog has collected a magic crystal every time baskets are scored.  These are also, incidentally, the most comfortable seats at the games.  Really depressingly, lots of US fans with premium seats seem to have decided not to bother.

The Russia and Lithuania game starts with a painful lack of quality.  The Russians make handling errors, the Lithuanians are woeful shooters, and the only man who looks like he belongs on a top level court is Russian forward Andrei Kirilenko, the former NBA all-star.  He dominates the paint, collecting rebounds and racking up points for Russia, who build a 14 point lead, to the anger of the huge Lithuanian support in the arena.

After half time, though, the Russians embark on a run of the least adept ball handling this side of the school bike sheds, and Lithuania pull their lead back to a single point.  Eventually the Russian advantage in size and strength pays off though, and they move into the semi finals.

The main event is a local derby between France and Spain.  Both teams have multiple NBA-quality players in their teams, and there's great technique on show throughout.  France run a skilful screen offense, while the Spanish can work through some genuinely talented big men on the inside.  MVP for most of the game is French superstar Tony Parker.  Both teams play great defense, and the final aggregate score ends up lower than the Americans rack up on their own against Australia later on.

Best moment of the session is at the end of the match, where everything turns heated as the Spaniards pull away.  A US - Spain final still looks like an inevitability.  I hope they don't suddenly decide to reschedule it... 

Canoe Redux

Back in Windsor this morning for the finals of the Canoe Sprints. It's a muggy morning that feels as though could turn stormy, and the storm comes in the shape of a huge Hungarian contingent determined to blow their countrymen - and women - to glory.

We're here to support defending champion Tim Brabants in his K1 class, but more so for the four British girls in the K4. Brabants can only manage eight in his final, before  we see a German and then a Hungarian pair delight their fans with a couple of golds.

The final race of the day is the K4. It's only as the British team race past me that it hits me that this is the most impressive thing I've seen done by anyone I've actually met.

The Brits' final result is a fifth place, behind a quartet of extremely strong boats. The Polish team qualified for the final with a world best time which would have won them gold today, but finish fourth. Victory in front of a home crowd would have been sensational, but with one of the youngest crews in the race, GB have laid some exciting foundations for Rio. Huge congratulations to Louisa and the rest of her team.

Wrestling, Greco-Roman style

"Mrs Simpson, this is the most blatant case of false advertising since my suit against the movie The Neverending Story"

Greco-Roman Wrestling is not Greek.  Or Roman.  It was actually invented by the French, who presumably thought that French Wrestling sounded too much like a Blackadder punchline to be a credible sport.  It differs from its freestyle counterpart in that all the holds must be above the waist.  You win points by chucking your opponent out of the ring, pinning their shoulders to the ground, or by escaping this situation:

'Oh - THAT's where the Greek part comes from...'

The wrestling arena is a real bear pit.  Hardcore groups of supporters from places like Georgia and Armenia cluster around massive flags and get some serious vocal support generated.  The Iranians are out in force too, and having won two gold medals in two days here, they are all here to see their man make it a hat-trick in the final of the under 96kg competition.  The towel used to mop the men between rounds is then flicked to dry them, producing billowing clouds of sweat.  It's macho, very loud, and, oh, 'I kissed a girl' is on the PA system.  Perhaps this is to enrage the competitors.  

These are men built like brick walls, and fight like brick walls would fight if there were an Olympic medal at stake.  A Georgian showboats momentarily on his way to a bronze medal, but that's the only moment of anything less than complete respect for the competition.  It's an awesome sight to see men literally fighting for medals - even the winners emerge bruised, patched-up, exhausted.  For those who can't claim the final victory there's nothing but complete exhaustion.  An Armenian bronze medalist, even in victory, is too tired to celebrate.  When a Korean and Hungarian face off in the final of a lighter weight class, the Korean throws his opponent for a victory and suddenly finds the reserves to jump around the arena.  

The last fight of the day is a heavyweight clash between Iran and Russia.  As the giant Iranian triumphs, his coach jumps onto the stage and celebrates by flinging his man over his head onto the mat.  We've come a long way from the beach volleyball.

Hockey at the Riverbank Arena

When China lose 1-0 to Japan yesterday afternoon, the British and Dutch women's hockey teams are assured of a place in the semi finals of the tournament.  They meet in the evening to play for the top spot in their group, however, and the atmosphere is one of the best I've seen at these games.  The Dutch turn up on a grand scale, almost outnumbering the home support, and sing throughout.  By some amazing luck we've got incredible seats in the accessible walkway, where we can choose our own spot and move chairs around to the end the British are attacking in each half.  There's nothing between us and the team benches except the walkway to the changing rooms.  Best seats in the house.

There's some great skill on show in the first half, and the GB fans get a boost when their side take the lead from a penalty corner.  Immediately afterwards the Dutch win one of their own, but Reading's Beth Storry produces the first of a trio of brilliant saves to ensure Britain lead at half time.  When the away team set up to take a penalty, the sound system plays tension-mounting music and the opportunity is squandered.  In the second, however, the top-ranked Dutch really show their class.  They win an early penalty - this time accompanied by something far more uplifting - and respond in kind by levelling the scores.  Sadly for GB the play is all Dutch from here, the Brits reduced to long ball attacks and unable to build any possession.  The Netherlands score again and finish 2-1 winners, but GB can look forward to a semi final on Wednesday.

At the end of the contest both teams walk right around the crowd, clapping their support and taking their own applause.  This is just one of the many touches that make me feel a lot of people who don't think they like sport would have a fantastic evening here.  There's none of the cynicism of football, for instance, and the pace of play is kept up with quickly taken free hits and restarts.  Unlike footballers, hockey players can take a free hit to themselves, choosing to dribble the ball forward rather than playing a pass, and this immediately speeds up play.

In the second game of the night, Australia and Argentina face off for the right to meet Team GB on Wednesday.  The sport is huge in these countries, and the players can achieve real celebrity status.  the Australians attack and defend in packs, the Argentinians make quick breaks from defence to attack.  Neither team looks particularly used to the wet, chilly conditions which have developed, but there's total commitment and some great dribbling skill on show, particularly from the Argentinian attackers.

The match is goalless with five minutes to play, and Australia need a win to qualify.  In another great moment, the Aussies substitute their goalkeeper for an outfield player in a desperate final push, but they can't break down their South American opponents, and the 1996 and 2000 winners bow out at the group stage.

Eton Success

The Duke of Wellington is famously claimed to have said that the Battle of Waterloo 'was won on the playing fields of Eton'.  While this may or may not be the case, twenty six gold medals will be won on the boating lake of Eton this summer.  Dorney Lake, host to the rowing and canoe sprint events, is, astonishingly, completely owned by the college and hired by the games this summer.  At least there's no issue over legacy here.

Getting crowds of twenty thousand people out to the Windsor venue is a massive logistical challenge, but an army of shuttle busses from local stations manage to deliver nearly a capacity crowd for the very start of the morning's racing.  They've come to see Tim Brabants, gold medal winner in Beijing, start the defence of his K1 100m title in the first heat of the day.  Brabants, now 35, took eighteen months out of the sport to pursue his career as an Accident & Emergency doctor after winning gold.  He's a youngster compared to the oldest competitor in the regatta, mind - the astonishing Josefa Idem of Italy is competing in her eighth olympics, having won a bronze medal her debut in Los Angeles in 1983 (and has qualified for the K1 final again this year)!

The powerhouses in Canoe Sprint are Hungary and Germany, but while European nations dominate alongside a few paddlers from North America and Australia, there are also representatives from countries as diverse as Samoa and Angola racing this morning.  The crowd give them great support, encouraged by the sound system which has shunned the usual Olympic soundtrack for a light helping of dance tunes and even some drum'n'bass.

Surprisingly, several racers use the 1000m event as race practice for the 200m competition, working hard for that distance and then cruising the rest of the way.  There is even one bizarre heat in which five boats compete for five qualifying spots.  Unsurprisingly, a couple take it very easy indeed.  In an Olympics where we've seen competitors disqualified from both Badminton and Athletics for taking tactical decisions not to give their full effort, I have to say I don't like this, and find it very strange that the Canoe Sprint authorities allow it to continue.

When the racing is good though, it's compelling.  The precise coordination needed by pairs and quartets to match each others timing and technique is shaded only by the balance of the 'C' class racers, who kneel in their canoe and manage to keep themselves upright while pushing back water with incredible force.

Brabants makes his final, and the British K4 team (powered on by Louisa Sawers, who I spoke to yesterday) only just miss out on automatic qualification.  They look good in their semi final though, and the crowd was delighted to see them into their final in the very last action of the day.  Massive congratulations to the girls, who race after Brabants tomorrow morning.

Inside Team GB - Louisa Sawers

Last week at Lee Valley, to the North of London, British canoeing delighted in a fantastic gold and silver in the men's C2 race. On the other side of town GB's rowers were topping their medal table with nine medals, four of which were gold. In the second week of the games the spotlight will fall on the sprint canoe team, whose sport lies somewhere between the two. I spoke to Louisa Sawers, who will race for Great Britain in the K2 and K4 boats, about the long wait for the start of competition.

'The slalom guys did an awesome job', she begins. 'We have different training programmes and train in different locations, but we know them all and they came to our apartment before we went into the opening ceremony. They are all such lovely lads and we were so happy when we found out they had got gold and silver!'. A double triumph worth celebrating.

Then there's the rowers, who have been staying at the same hotel in Windsor. 'It was so cool seeing Katherine Grainger at breakfast!' Grainger, the 36 year old team captain who won gold on Friday after three Olympic silvers is one of Louisa's sporting heroes and has had great advice to offer: 'She told us the crowds are there to support you and the number of GB flags is incredible, so use it as it will only come round once in our sporting careers!'

Louisa sat in the grandstand at Dorney on Friday, watching first hand as Grainger finally strike gold. 'It was so emotional being in the crowds at the medal ceremony. You could see how much it meant to her'. That must whet the appetite for next week? 'I can't wait to race', Louisa says. Having gone as a team to get a feel for what that home roar will really sound like, you can feel their hunger for the start line.

The K4 (a kayak, as opposed to a canoe, has racers seated and propelling the boat with a double-ended paddle, while the number denotes how many are in the boat) is Louisa's main event. With Rachel Cawthorn and Jess Walker she won European Championship bronze, and the trio are joined this year by Angela Hannah. The boat took fourth place in the last World Championships in Hungary, and missed a silver medal by less than half a second. They were the first British boat to qualify for the Olympics, and hopes are high this time round.

Since winning the World Junior Championship with Walker, Louisa has seldom raced in the two-woman event, the K2, but relishes the chance to take on a second event in London. 'It's a good opportunity to get out there and do what we do...RACE! We have nothing to lose as we have no international ranking...  watching other Team GB athlete achieve medals and some amazing results just makes you believe anything is possible'.

It's great to know our girls are so looking forward to getting out on the water, and they must be champing at the bit having been made to wait so long since the games opened last Friday night. Louisa and her team-mates were in the Olympic Stadium to witness Danny Boyle's spectacular... or some of it, at least. 'I can't believe I missed Mr Bean! I love him!' Still, the night was once-in-a-lifetime stuff. 'Everyone behind the barriers leading into stadium was British and just shouting at us wishing us good luck'. That theme of home support again. It makes a real differnce, and Louisa wants to keep hold of the feeling - 'I have now downloaded David Bowie, Heroes on iTunes as it reminds me of walking into stadium feeling massively proud to be British and seeing all the flags waving at us!'

After the ceremony the team set up camp in Oakley Court, a hotel just two miles upriver from the competition lake. No special Olympic lane is needed here - the team paddle to work. 'The facilities are brilliant. The athlete's lounge is very comfy with TV covering the action of the other sports. The food here is very good and healthy with lots of flavours'. Louisa, a true foodie, has been spending some of her free time helping out Oakley's top class pastry chef.

'Rooms have had the Team GB stamp with mugs, drinks bottles, flags, the GB lion and we got a gift - a dog tag with our individual number of when you got selected.' Hers is 238/542; number 1 is owned by the now four-time gold medalist Ben Ainslie.

For all the facilities and activites, the last week has been a long wait for the young star. While Grainger and the rest of the GB team have been competing - her housemate Nicola White scored for our table-topping hockey team in their 5-3 win over Korea - the canoers have been training, though at this point the work is down to one session a day on the water as they prepare for competition.  Sometimes there will be another session of some core work, or stretching to keep their bodies in peak condition, but the hard yards have been put in already this year, at training camps in the heat of Seville and South Africa. The aim of every session now is 'to get off the water feeling good and ready to race'.

That aim will be realised this morning, as the K4 girls start their competition at 10.39 this morning. They've been drawn in middle of the first heat next to World Champions Hungary, and will be hoping to show the Hungarians what home advantage - and years of hard work - can achieve.  Good luck to them, and the rest of team GB's canoers!

Anyone for (Table) Tennis?

Last night was always going to be a hard one to follow.  Headed to ExCel for a team quarter final in the sport which Boris Johnson memorably announced to the world was invented by the British under the name of Whiff Waff.

The men's team competition has the national teams playing out a doubles match and a maximum of four singles ties.  Players enter the arena to a showbiz sound and light show which reminds me of a darts competition.  I wonder whether an enterprising publicist could make a big-time spectacle of the game created on the dining tables of Victorian England?  It could hardly be a stranger hit than darts, which pulled the same trick with some intro music and a few well-placed nicknames.  The umpire signals which player has won a point with some kind of clenched fist salute, which is... odd.

Game, Venezuela.  ALL the games, Venezuela.

The unquestioned powerhouse of the sport is China, who claimed gold and silver in both individual competitions, but this afternoon's crowd favourites are Germany.  They line up against an Austria team who fold like cheap lederhosen on the table nearest us.  At the far end of the arena is a fascinating clash between Portugal and South Korea - who came through a politically delicate clash with North Korea in the first round.  No Portuguese player is ranked inside the world's top thirty while four Koreans are in that club, so they start as strong favourites.

Top level table tennis is played with an extreme range of styles.  Some players rely on paddle speed and accuracy, others exert a whole range of vicious spins on the ball.  At one point a ball lands on the floor and, instead of bouncing, rolls in an arc around a table leg.  There are some players who crowd the table, others like the Korean Joo Saehyuk make an art out of defensive play, throwing themselves around the arena and giving themselves time to reach every ball, forcing their opponent to make mistakes.

Saehyuk takes on crowd favourite Marcos Freitas, who stands firm at the table and smashes the ball about for Saehyuk to chase. It makes for a dynamic contest.  Later, with the scores level at 2-2, Freitas is set to take on the Korean number one for a place in the semi finals.  Sneak downstairs to get a totally different view - from behind the players you can see just how much the ball moves in the air.  Favouring the underdogs, we manage to get the whole crowd chanting 'Marcos, Marcos', and he goes on a run of six straight points.  Result.  Sadly that's as good as it gets, and the Portuguese are out.  Korea will meet Hong Kong for a place in Wednesday's final, while the Germans will face a massive task against China.

About Last Night...

I'm trying to put this in some sort of context, and it isn't easy.  For sport in this country I can think of only two nights better, and each ended with a world cup being lifted.  Both were won in the name of England, though.  For Britain?  Individual achievement, Sir Steve Redgrave.  Team success, there was the night in the Laoshan velodrome when Britain won three gold medals (and a silver and a bronze!) in the men's sprint, women's sprint and team sprint.  But those dramas played out on foreign fields, witnessed in person by only a lucky few of their fellow countrymen.  Roger Bannister's iconic mile gripped the nation, but the stage was many times smaller than this.  Eighty thousand were privileged - honoured - to share this night with their trio of heroes.  Seventeen million more looked on at home.

"It's been one hundred and four years since a British competitor last won an athletics gold medal in London.  Tonight you might even see two."


The American stadium announcer began the evening with what sounded like a hopeful statement but ended up looking like pessimism.  I remember thinking 'hang on, what about the boys in the long jump?' but knew they had qualified only fourth and fifth.

Then the evening got off to the worst possible start.  When the stories of tonight are told, few will include the semi finals of the 400 metres hurdles, when World, European and Commonwealth champion Dai Greene appeared to miss the final of his event by finishing fourth in his semi final (there were three).  Greene lay motionless in horror on the track two full minutes.  The next British runner hit the third hurdle and collapsed injured.  A third struggled home well out of the places.  I was watching from behind a block of approximately one thousand empty seats.  Then things changed.

We heard that Greene's time had been enough for him to make the final after all.  The crowd trapped behind the empty seats were brought down into prime viewing position.  The long jump finalists were introduced, with double British hopes.  Christine Ohurugou looked strong in her 400m semi final.  The giant laughing Pole who won last night's shot put competition came out for his medal ceremony looking like a roadie for Pantera.  Greg Rutherford took the lead in the long jump, with fellow Brit Chris Tomlinson in third place.  Everything started to roll.

When Jessica Ennis stepped out onto the track for the final event of the heptathlon, she needed only to finish within ten seconds of her challengers.  She went out strong and led until 600 metres, when a couple of her rivals passed her.  That was when the first roar happened.  It didn't seem to come from outside my head.  The entire crowd turned a force of will into a sea of sound, and Ennis kicked for home.  She didn't need to cross the line first, but she did.  The heptathletes took their wonderful group lap of honour, and Jess Ennis took the hearts of the nation.  Rutherford took to the runway almost immediately and the crowd made that noise again.  Carried by 80,000 pleas, he extended his lead to a decisive 8.31.

Photo: Alistair Scott

At the moment Mo Farah was introduced to the crowd I actually pinched myself.  It sounds absurd, but it was the only response my mind could find.  The ovation for the start of the men's 10,000 metres was so great that, sadly, Tomlinson was called away from the runway where he had been preparing to make his last attempt in the long jump.  It cost him his composure, and a final effort at a medal.

With five laps remaining in the race, the roar began again.  Farah was being followed around the track by the world's slowest Mexican wave, every spectator rising to their feet as the men kicked past.  Then, on the last bend of the last lap, they took it to a level I have never heard.  I was screaming in a voice I never knew I had.  'Please, Mo.  Please'.

When the stadium had roared for Ennis, they did so in celebration.  Her position before the last race made victory a near certainty.  For Rutherford they roared in surprise and delight.  When Mo Farah kicked onto the back straight of the most important race of his life, the crowd roared to help him. Farah was shadowed by the fastest sprinters in distance running, the outcome was in very real doubt.  They roared and they roared, begging him down the straight.  That was what made that moment the most special thing I have ever seen.

After the race the show was stolen by Farah's family, his wife two months removed from giving birth to twins, and his daughter dancing around the stadium.  When it was time for her to leave the track, she ran fifty metres in a single lane, imitating her dad and the rest of the athletes she saw tonight.  'Inspiring a Generation', the games promised.  This was like the first raindrop of a monsoon.

Once this dreamlike hour had passed, we watched the final of the women's 100m final, and the medal ceremony for the women's discus, after which the gold medalist threw her bouquet of flowers into the crowd with such force that she missed the entire first section.  Old habits die hard.  The stadium announcer terrified us with the news that the result of the heptathlon was under protest and appeal, then brought the house down with the explanation that Ennis' position was not in question.  Paul McCartney appeared and led the stadium in a singalong of 'All You Need Is Love'.  Seb Coe himself put the medal around Jess' neck.  Are you kidding me?  This night cannot really be happening.  Am I really there?  The next morning I find a photo that I have no memory of posing for.  Seems I really was.

How I got an top athletics ticket last night (and you can, too)

If this page had a sound effect, it would be the sound of a million computers destroying a million windows

I want to share this, because I'd tickets to go to the people who want them most and not just the ones who happen to get lucky.  It does take a bit of time and effort, but it can work.  I first tried it late last night, and almost immediately scored a category C (under £100) ticket for tonight's athletics finals, one of the sessions I wanted to see most out of the entire games.

All credit has to go to a guy called Ben Marsh who wrote the site I'm about to link to.


It's basically a case of technological advantage. In the hunt for games tickets this site - http://checker.benmarshinteractive.com/ - was my first friend. You give it five sessions to look for, and it scans the LOCOG site every minute and lets you know when that changes. That was brilliant for a while back in July, but then the whole internet jumped on the bandwagon and suddenly the competitive advantage was gone. The problem was that you'd find out about tickets and go there, but have to log in and do the silly security capture thing, and in that time they were gone again. SO...

What you need is a way to stay logged into the site, rather than getting timed out after ten minutes of inactivity. Ben's site recommended installing a firefox add-on called 'Check4Change'. That lets you select a bit of text on a page and refresh the whole page on a regular basis. If that text has changed, you get an alert. That part's not so important right now - BUT to check it it refreshes the site.  That tells the site you're still active, so you never have to log in or enter a security phrase.

If you make an order (any order, can be one ticket for a football match if that's all that's onsale) and when you get taken to the 'cart' page, select some of the text (again, doesn't matter what) and ask it to Check4Change (once the add-on's installed, you just select text and right click it, the check4change option will be there) every five minutes. In effect, you're placing an order every five minutes (not buying anything at that stage) so you're always logged in. Result.

Now the next bit is even cleverer. On Ben's ticket checker site (the link above) when you add a session to the list that's being checked you get a link to the event's page on the ticket website.  If there are none on sale, the 'Session ticket limit' there reads 0. So if you do that in a new tab (keeping the one that's logging you in all the time open) and select the '0', Check4Change will tell you as soon as that becomes '4'. I have that refreshing every 15 seconds.

So I get an alert within 15 seconds of tickets becoming available, and I'm already logged in. All I have to do it get there and hope they're not the crazily expensive ones. As I say, I did all this for the first time late last night and had a result on that athletics within half an hour. Now I'm checking the 100m final session, the last night in the stadium and one of the cycling ones.

If anyone reading abut this is concerned about the legitimacy of some of this stuff, LOCOG has confirmed that it's fine with the tracker page, and Check4Change isn't doing anything you couldn't do yourself with the F5 key. It's all totally above board. I can't guarantee it'll keep working this well, but it might for a bit. I got all this originally via twitter from #2012tweeps and a guy called @volshy, if that's any use to the twitterate amongst you. The Check4Change info and some other good tips are on the bottom of the tracker page (again, http://checker.benmarshinteractive.com/).

Good luck to all of you who haven't given up on the ticket hunt.  And if you do manage to bag a pair of £50 tickets for the 100m final, I make an excellent date...

[I've been told that Check4Change doesn't work as well with some macs.  This has been recommended to me as an alternative.  http://agriffindesign.com/downloads/autorefresh/]

To read about my night at the stadium, take a look here!  Or for more Olympic news and features, including an interview with one of our medal chasers, see what's new today.

Chariots of Farah

If you like underdog stories, you should stop what you're doing at 9.15 this evening, and support this man.


If you like British champions breaking new ground, you should support him.

If you have ever been frustrated by a generalisation about immigrants, asylum seekers, or kids who arrive in the English school system without being able to speak a word of English; if you were angered by the Daily Mail's insane claim that it would be "a challenge for the organisers [of the opening ceremony] to find an educated white middle-aged mother and black father living together with a happy family"; if you believe that nationality can be about more than the accident of birth, you need to watch Mo Farah race in the men's 10,000m tonight.

Born in Somalia in the mid eighties, Farah arrived in London in 1992 via Djibouti, granted residence by virtue of his father's joint English/Somali citizenship.  He was not, as has been reported, a refugee - that story belongs to Great Britain basketball captain Luol Deng, and is certainly worth reading, if you're looking for it.  He struggled at school in London, though, because of his lack of English.


"Kids would wind him up by getting him to try out English words that maybe he shouldn’t have been saying in lessons.  It was also a fairly combative school and, being Mo, he would never back down so he got himself into a couple of fights in his first year. So he did test the patience of one or two members of staff.” - Mo's best friend and best man gave an interview about the track star's early years in this country to the Telegraph last year.


Thanks to the observant eye and perseverance of his PE teacher at Felton Academy, he was persuaded to channel that competitive instinct into sport.  He wanted to become a footballer, but was coaxed into trying cross-country running and the fit was perfect.  Mo rose quickly through the ranks of schoolboy success to the verge of an international team, winning five national schoolboy championships against boys as many as five years older than him.  As his young career progressed, though, he struggled to make training sessions at his club in Windsor, but world champion Paula Radcliffe believed in his talent and paid for him to have driving lessons so that he could eventually get himself there.  Paula's own dream of competing in a home Olympics may have been derailed by injury, but her mentoring influence on Mo's young career means that her presence will be felt on the track after all.


Mo and his wife Tania are expecting twins this September.  She will be in the stadium tonight - Farah jokes that if his race triggers an early labour she would at least be in a stadium full of doctors.  Tania is well used to the impact of her husband's career.  Farah ran every day of their honeymoon in Zanzibar.


A recent song about Mo became a hit in Somalia, with the lyric "You are English, but we are proud to be a part of you. England is proud of you, and we are proud of you too”.  The games are partly about the joy of representing your country, but the real Olympic spirit goes beyond that.


In Sebastian Coe's address to the IOC in 2005, when he persuaded them to entrust their games to London, he promised that the most multicultural city in the would could offer home support to every athlete taking part.  This is the real joy of the London games, and there are no better symbols of this than Farah and Deng, While the basketball star is likely to find his chances of success limited by a struggling home tam, Mo Farah has a real chance to write his name into the record books and become the poster boy for a diverse, integrated Britain either this evening, or next weekend when he goes in the 5,000m.  Last year in Daegu he won that event to become the first British man ever to win a long-distance gold at a world championship.


If you can see why this story matters, why sport can change a life, why education can't exist without empathy, why Farah can be an example for a generation and a demographic that stretches far beyond the lucky few with athletic ability, then you should make sure you watch him run tonight.  And you should cheer him to the rooftops.

Big Screen Action

After the Water Polo, we head for the giant viewing screens placed to one end of the Olympic Park.  Fantastic idea, but poorly executed, to be honest, as I noted a week ago.  In the pre-athletics hours, when the park is at capacity, there are queues to get onto the slivers of grass that offer an angled view of the screen on the West side of the river.  The trick is to go over to the basketball arena in the East, where there are no queues and a far better angle from which to view the screen.

The massive crowd, obviously, love all the British success stories.  I find it interesting that Becky Adlington is the most popular of all, even in defeat.  I think we have to let Adlington off her ill-judged claim that swimming medals are harder to win than those in other sports, understanding the pressure of a post-race interview, and the gathered crowd certainly don't notice.

There's also great support for Michael Phelps.  Real respect for what he's done in his career.  I think there's a sense of pride that London will now always be associated with the great American's record-breaking exploits.  On a side note, Michael Phelps is a phenomenal swimmer, and a lovely guy, but there's something undeniably geeky about him too.  In an alternate universe where competitive swimming is banned, alternate universe Phelps is wearing a bow tie and winning more gold medals for chess than anyone has done before.

Adlington's race is remarkable.  When her fifteen year-old opponent first breaks away from the field, the first reaction is to stay calm, because fifteen year olds can't sustain world record pace for 800m.  Then at some point we all start to realise that the thing about fifteen year olds - one in their first ever international meet - is that nobody's got a clue what they can do.  And Katie Ledecky can, it turns out.  There's not as much dishonour in losing to such a wonderful swim as Adlington seems to worry that we all think.  I hope that the huge crowds gathered outside the broadcast centre as she gives the BBC an interview for their late show start to convince her that we're not going to disown her over this.

I Hope They Give The Horses Snorkels

My first experience of water polo comes right on the back of that once-in-a-lifetime day at the athletics track, so it takes a while to come back to earth.  It's a great time to start though, Spain are playing Hungary for a place in the women's semi finals.  There are similarities to handball, superficially, though it's hard to have the same connection to the swimmers when yo can only see fourteen covered heads in the pool.

The tactics have much in common though.  The choice is either a slow passing build-up or a fast break offence.  The latter is more dramatic, and with enough speed in the side, very effective.    Players are under pressure not to slow the game too much from a 30 second shot clock, and coaches must also manage rolling substitutions, constant sin-binnings, and trying not to get sent off themselves - as happened to Spain's fiery young coach Miki Oca.

The Spanish win their game with a great work ethic, then Australia beat Russia with an athletic counter-attacking game based on unsettling their opponents.  The Australians take 16 player ejections to Russia's 5, but run out winners despite playing several minutes short-handed.  Only three girls on the Aussie squad escape the sin bin - and two of those are goalkeepers!  Some great shooting from distance makes the difference for them however.  When the ball is pinging around, this is a great spectator sport, when the play breaks down and the action is mostly taking place under the surface of the water in the form of holds, kicks and shoves, it's harder to follow.  The race from both ends of the pool to the ball at a restart is a great mini-game too.

Home Advantage

I enter the sunken bowl of the Olympic Stadium on the first morning of track and field competition to the slightly unexpected sight of Joanna Lumley on the big screens, telling us that she would make speed knitting an Olympic event, given the choice. My seat looks like the last one added in the whole stadium – a lone one tacked onto the end of an accessible seating section where another wheelchair couldn't be accommodated. Feel over the moon at that tiny design fault.

Meanwhile, the shot putters are warming up at my end of the Stadium (the North). They are vast men. I have to say that the build-up and commentary here is excellent, streets ahead of what I've seen at any other venue. I still don't like that Muse song, mind. Sit replaying some of my favourite Olympics track and field memories in my head. Linford in Barcelona. Jonathan Edwards in Sydney. That magical 4x100metre relay gold for Britain in Athens. The is the seat I've wanted since I was seven.

At 9.55 we're led in a countdown. To what? Nothing happens. Events start five minutes later. Oh well, it woke the crowd up. Then at five past 10, we have the start of the women's heptathlon (the title is tautological, in fact, since the men compete in a decathlon). The crowd makes an incredible noise when Jess Ennis wins her heat in a heptathlon record, national record time – one which would have won the gold medal in Beijing, astoundingly. For a multi-event girl to have that standard of performance in a single event is almost unprecedented. Top runners are setting personal bests in early heats – this is potentially a very quick track. How fast can Usain go on it? The Americans are in an all red strip, which I love. It reminds me of the kit Carl Lewis wore when he equalled Jesse Owen's record of four golds in Los Angeles 28 years ago.

There is a new round in the women's 100m, a preliminary where athletes from smaller nations compete against one another for the right to take on the big guns later on. One from Yemen races in a headscarf. Later in the 400m we see the lone female athlete at the games from Somalia, ZamZam Farah, who shares her name with another runner born in Somalia, Mo. I'm reminded that it's been almost fifteen minutes since I pictured the naturalised Englishman taking gold in one of the long-distance races next week, and shredding every prejudiced generalisation about asylum seekers in Britain. More of this later.

There crowd gives a big roar to every home athlete, and it seems to visibly lift several. Yamile Aldama races through her triple jump qualifier to become the second finalist. After World, European and Commonwealth champion 400m hurdler Dai Greene opens his bid for a full set with a comfortable win, his near namesake Jack Green is pulled from from sixth to second place down the final straight by a mighty ovation. Christine Ohurugou is defending an Olympic title in the home borough of her home city. Could she ever have dreamed this as a young athlete?

The failures are even more affecting than the successes. A young girl pulls up barely twenty metres into her games in the 100m. A Japanese hurdler finishes a race while painfully injured, reminding me of Derek Redmond's inspiring moment in Barcelona. The back-marker in a steeplechase heat is given a tremendous cheer as he clears the final water jump, but he falls at the final hurdle and lies injured 50 metres from the end of his race. As he leaves the track on a wheelchair, it's impossible not to feel devastated for the man.

Suddenly the skies open and a very British summer monsoon arrives. Those top price seats aren't so desirable now – they're exposed and flooded. People take refuge behind in cheap seats at the back.

The heptathlon high jump is at the far South of the stadium. It's miles away, but the South grandstand make sure we know exactly how the three Brits are progressing. The men are also throwing the hammer from that end. One of the most technically and physically demanding field events, it's totally different seeing it from underneath the flight of the hammer rather than the TV view. The best job of any volunteer at the games might be to drive the remote control cars that shuttle across the stadium, collecting hammers and bringing them back to the throwing end to be used again.

When it's dry there can't be a bad seat anywhere in this stadium, it is superb in every respect. The crowd is close to the action, the top deck banks steeply, the iconic pyramids of floodlights look fantastic. The crowd are kept invested and informed by fantastic commentary. Exactly how an Olympic event should be presented. Hardly a spectator leaves a seat through the whole four hour session. This is how it's meant to be. A morning that I've imagined as long as I can remember has, improbably, lived up to all my hopes.

[A word of unofficial advice to anyone travelling to the Olympic Park for one of the athletics sessions from North London – there were huge queues in St Pancras, so I took the underground to Liverpool Street and walked straight through onto a Stratford train. That may not be everyone's experience, but it was mine this morning. I have to praise the security personnel at the games, who despite the vast crowds had the entry into the park as smooth as it was on my first visit. My other top tip is to use the WCs and water taps before crossing the bridges into the main stadium, rather than afterwards!]

Here Come The Girls

It's ladies' day for Team GB. At the rowing regatta Kat Grainger bids to snap a streak of three successive silver medals at 12.10. Rebecca Adlington goes into the 800m swimming final a red, white and probably blue-hot favourite tonight. In between there's Victoria Pendleton in the women's Keirin at the velodrome, and the British women's football team play Canada for a place in the semi finals.

At the track, Christine Ohurugou starts the defence of her 400m title. But it's world heptathlon champion Jessica Ennis who will carry the hopes of a nation. She will compete in the first four of the seven events at the stadium this morning and evening. And I'm on my way there now! Can't quite believe it. Good luck to all the Brit girls today!

Unbelievable Archer

Just been reading the incredible fact that South Korean archer Im Dong-Hyun, who starts as a clear favourite for the men's individual archery competition today, is legally blind... and refuses to wear corrective lenses!

Im has 20/200 vision in his left eye and 20/100 in his right, yet managed to set a new world record of 699 points in the first round of the competition.  To explain, the involves firing 72 arrows at a target 70 metres away.  To score 699 out of a possible 720, a minimum of 51 arrows must score a perfect 10, which means them landing in an area the size of a CD - and the rest can barely miss.  Just to repeat: Im Dong-Hyun is legally blind.

Does anyone know enough about archery to begin to explain how this is possible?  I would love to know.  Answers including the words 'Jedi' or 'Wizard' will be disqualified.

BBC Analysts, and A Word About Basketball

The stars of the BBC commentary team are the greats John McEnroe and Michael Johnson.  Both men combine superb technical analysis with a very uncompromising honesty in assessing performance.  I wanted to give a couple of words of praise for two other members of the stable.

In the aquatics centre, Australian legend Ian Thorpe is becoming one of the most likeable men on television.  He doesn't tend to dwell on the minutae of technique as his American colleagues do, but his tremendous charm and perspective on the human side of the sport could make him as big a success in front of the camera as he was in the pool.

Thorpe and BBC commentary colleague Mark Foster

The most under-appreciated member of the team, for me, is Matthew Syed.  The former British table tennis number one is a student of sport at the highest level.  Fiercely intelligent, he nonetheless analyses in a straightforward manner.  What makes him stand out for me is his honesty.  Asked on tonight's late magazine programme to give an opinion on a cycling ruling, Syed's reply was first that one of the great elements of the Olympics was that nobody was an expert on every sport, and that he'd love to hear a perspective from the cycling world.  Only then did he reveal his gut reaction, as essentially a layman.  So many analysts will bluff their way through a mediocre answer rather than admit a lack of expertise, Syed is a breath of fresh air.

A final note, off topic - amid a glorious day for the British team,  many people will miss the significance of the British basketball losing to Spain by a single point.  This is an absolutely fantastic performance by the home side.  Spain are the only team in the tournament with any serious pretensions to challenge the American 'dream team', and a clear number two in the world.  Going into the final quarter, Britain trailed 61-49, but rocked the Spanish with a stunning run led by captain and NBA all-star Luol Deng, who scored 26 points as GB eventually fell short, 79-78.

Mini diary

This afternoon is the first of the games where I've not been at an event.  I'm envious as hell of those lucky enough to squeeze into the velodrome, or to have been at that superb canoeing triumph, but if I'm honest it's actually quite nice to sit in front of the TV for a session.

As soon as I'm in I catch an interview on BBC3 with the British pairs who've won gold and silver in the C2 slalom canoe.  Without realising that it's being shown off-tape on BBC1, I manage to spoil the surprise for everyone.  Once we've all got back on the same page and watched Gemma Gibbons' brave silver medal in the 78kg judo, it's cycling time.  This is where the games are meant to really take off to the home competitors, and with the day already having delivered double gold and a clutch of other British medals, I think it's time to try my hand at something more like a live blog for a couple of hours...

16:16 - Monstrous effort from Pendleton to make up that first-half deficit in the team sprint.  World Record!  Then the Chinese break it in the next race.  Spoilsports.  Jess Varnish is going to have to start faster than that against the Chinese

16:25 - New Zealand have one guy who can post a sub-WR split in the team sprint, and two who are so far behind him they're almost disqualified.  Not sure why being too far back from your team-mate gets you a DQ - surely it's only a disadvantage to lose the slipstream?

16:35 - Empty seats don't make me angrier anywhere than at the velodrome.  That's a six thousand seat arena with the biggest demand for any event except Athletics and Swimming.

16:37 - Nightmare for the Brits as Philip Hindes' bike falls to bits out of the start gate in their qualifier against the Germans.  They get a do-over though.  Will this rattle the Brits or Germans more?

16:42 - The German team look about as German as three men in lycra on bikes can do.  Which is extremely German.

16:43 - Gary Lineker once said that football was a game where twenty two men chase a ball round a field and at the end the Germans win.  Well, cycling's a sport where you go round the track for three laps and Britain does.  The time is an Olympic record.  This track looks fast.

16:46 - Jamie Staff, a member of the GB sprint team who won gold in Beijing, reckons Hindes had no mechanical issue but just, basically, fell off.  Apparently if you wobble at the start you're better off falling off because then you get to try starting again!  What a surreal rule.

16:49 - The 'ssshhhhhhh' noise they play over the PA at the velodrome before races start is really creepy.  Wondering whether they could use the technology in libraries, quiet carriages and cinemas.  It would scare you silent every time.

16:55 - The British women have made the team sprint final, but suddenly things are looking very bad for the women's team.  A technical infringement may have occurred in the change from Varnish to Pendleton.  Possible relegation to the bronze medal race, or even disqualification.  Cycling supremo Dave Brailsford looks concerned.

17:04 - The debate is still going on.  Mark Cavendish tries to explain the situation, then realises he's sitting next to a man who won gold in this event last games!  Over to Staff.

17:05 - Not looking good.  Brailsford has given reporters a 'DQ' gesture.

17:10 - While waiting for news at the velodrome, I'm checking out the post-competition interview of Peter Wilson, the shooter who won a home golf in the double trap.  The moment at the end where he breaks off with a shout of 'Dad' is superb.

17:17 - Pendleton gives a very dejected interview as the girls have heard they're definitely out.  'Now and again rubbish things happen, and this is just one of those days.  We've had a wonderful run.'  She's pleased that she set the fastest second lap of her career, which bodes well for her individual sprint effort, but bitterly disappointed for Varnish whose Olympics are over.  The youngster must be devastated - she'll be back in Rio, but this is a unique moment passed.  If there's any consolation for the fans, it's that the Chinese looked pretty untouchable in their semi-final win.  Scant, though.

17:20 - "Four years ago in Beijing, every [British] cyclist on the track left with a medal" Jake Humphries begins, in the studio.  Sitting next to him is Mark Cavendish, the lone exception to that rule.  Cav looks pretty annoyed for a second, then Humphries contines "...except you, Mark.".  Nice one, son.  Putting the offensive in charm offensive.    "I found it more hard the questions getting asked" says the Manxman, a little curtly.  Zing.

17:26 - Chris Boardman has just told Jake that the GB team are using 'hot pants'!  The footage cuts to a VT of Vicky Pendleton, and starts to pan downwards... sadly for the collected male viewership this turns out to be a pair of warmed-up trousers that keep heat in competitor's muscles between their warm-up and race, just like tyre-warmers on a Formula 1 car.  Where can I get me one of those for the chilly winter mornings?


I've found some live-blogging software, so might have a crack at that one of the days I'm not at the Games at all next week.

Beach Volleyball

Walking into the purpose-built Beach Volleyball arena that towers over Horse Guards Parade, find myself walking behind a full marching band. It's going to be that kind of event. Musical. The commentator in the ground acts as a constant warm-up man, cheerleader and DJ, and there are times when the competition itself seems secondary. I have to say these moments grate.

During the second set of a match between the top-ranked Brazilian men's pair and a game Italian team the crowd are encouraged to keep a Mexican wave going around the stadium twenty six consecutive times. Again, these are the best beach volleyball players in the entire world. The Italians press Brazil to the limit, and the teams combine to win and save eight set points before Brazil takes the first. During this spell there is polite applause. It's nothing on the excitement generated by the wave.

I've seen this at many events in London where the crowd has no rooting interest. They become spectators rather than supporters, and are encouraged by the comperes to applaud everything from the athletes in general to the stadium, the games, the Mexican waves and often just themselves for making it to the venue. It creates an atmosphere which is loud and fun, but I hoped for more from the British public, whose love of sport seems to come second to their love of audience participation.

The solution is a simple one. Sport matters more when you have a vested interest. Instead of blandly cheering for the joy of cheering, why not encourage crowds to pick an athlete or team and do their best to will them on to victory. Divide the stadium by area, birthday, whatever – something equal – and suggest a team for them to adopt. Instantly you have rivalry, competition, engagement, instead of the polite impartial appreciation which can make for an uncomfortable moment if you decide you really do want to cheer loudly for one cause.

During the second half of the session the stands began to empty. Those left behind were either backing one team or prepared to support whoever was trailing in order to prolong the session. Suddenly the atmosphere became electric. There's an instant bond between people cheering for the same side. With that energy to sustain interest between points, we might not even need so much of the rather silly dance troupe who currently flood the court during any pause. Groups of partisan fans don't need extra entertainment, they make their own.

On court, the Italian men were eliminated from the tournament after losing to Brazil. Their female counterparts eliminate a much lower-rated Canadian pair, but need a third set to do so. The point of the session is fought out between two Dutchmen (one of whom is a 39 year-old gold medalist from the indoor event at the 1996 games) and a Latvian duo. The rally runs on and on, powerful offensive blows rescued by diving lunges and counters frantically improvised, it's the most impressive moment I've seen personally at the entire Olympics. When this sport is good, it's really really good.

There are magic touches here. The view across Westminster from the top of the grandstand is special. Matches are started on the hour by – how good is this – the chime of Big Ben over the rooftops. Statisticians record a player's tally of something called Kill Blocks. The pre-session entertainment is fantastic. I just found it a shame how much of that spilled over into the games themselves. They don't actually need the crutch.