An invitation turned up on my desk sometime last week for an evening with Olympians on Wednesday night organised by the International Sports Press Association. Would I contact the following email for further details.
Contact was indeed established and I was told that the American swimmers Michael Phelps, Nathalie Coughlin and Katie Hoff would be at the China Club.
Better still the legends Alex Popov and Ian Thorpe would also be there.
A shoal of talent indeed. Only snag was that they were going to be at the same time as one Usain Bolt would be trying to write himself into legend in final of the men’s 200 metres
Just my luck a chance to go to one of the swishest venues in town and I have to watch people running around a track.
Redemption is mine though because there’s another rendez-vous with titans of yore on Thursday afternoon. The hurdler Edwin Moses, the sprinter Cathy Freeman and the decathlete Daley Thompson.
This might be more feasible as the association is laying on transport from the press centres to the venue, the Casa Italia.
This is a concept aimed at promulgating all things Italian. Mamma mia. Just what I’ve come from Europe for.
But as the saying goes when in Beijing….drive a Ferrari.
There’s been an absence of ostentation within the hotel – venue- hotel vortex. If there are high ranking officials from national Olympic committees cruising around in smart cars then I haven’t noticed them.
That might be due to the fact that I’m either watching the action or writing about it in an underground ice box.
One luxury brand that has been quite salient is Omega. The firm has a temporary pavilion which I’ve been passing regularly en route to the various venues.
It became even more prominent for me just after Michael Phelps’s victory in the 100 metres butterfly final when the Serbian swimming delegation contested the split of a split second victory over their swimmer Milorad Cavic.
After the delegation had a look at the tapes of the race they could see it was all fine. Their man had got silver and Phelps had won gold.
Doubting the veracity of the official timekeepers is quite rare and it all came about because the cameras which are shown to the crowds aren’t the one’s used for timekeeping.
The crowd’s cameras suggested that Cavic had touched first. But Omega has got high speed cameras. This is a system that links four high speed video recording cameras and allows judges to have real time views of the images captured by the cameras even while they’re recording.
It’s possible to see the action recorded by all four cameras at once or to select any of them individually for a full screen view.
That’s all very well and good and we rightly hail an association with the Olympic movement that goes back to 1932.
But what about watches on your wrist rather than the ones in the water?
Well they’re quite spectacular. Quite a range is on show at the pavilion including the Omega Speedmaster Professional.
This comes with the tag of the first and only watch worn on the moon.
And then there’s the Beijing Olympic Collection Minus 88 Days Double Eagle which hasn’t been worn on Mars.
It’s limited to 288 pieces and can be snapped up for 219,800 yuan.
The dials within the face are in the figure eight which as we all know is the lucky number in China because the word for eight sounds like the word for prosperity.
Phelps has come away from Beijing with eight gold medals but that’s got nothing to do with luck. It’s down to timing
Wednesday, 20 August 2008
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
The Slip
Of all the stories I read before I travelled to Beijing, I can't remember one touching on the Chinese sense of humour. They were usually about lack of freedom, shady political practices and economic hegemony.
But anything about what makes people chortle? Nichts.
A sense of humour does exist. For example: the army of volunteers who have been helping us around the Olympic sites have been instructed to smile at every opportunity possible.
I also need look no further than the manufacturers of the scones available in the press centre cafes. Well the makers must be having a laugh on the poor saps who buy the scone to find that it crumbles into a thousand pieces when it’s cut or bitten.
And whoever decided to dream up cheerleaders for entertainment must be laughing all the way to somewhere.
I spotted a few on Monday night at the Natonal Stadium in the mixed zone - the area where the athletes come and chew over their performances with the media. I noticed them because they were carrying green frills rather than clunky camera combos.
On Tuesday morning I went to see the reigning Olympic champions Germany take on New Zealand in the men's hockey.
There waas an edge about the final Group A match as both sides needed to win to go into the last four.
Germany scored two early goals and went into the half-time break nursing that advantage. As the players walked off the pitch, blaring music went on and spectators started moving towards the refreshment booths. So far so usual.
And then on came 12 young women in red bikini tops and red skirts. They formed two ranks of six either side of the half way line and snapped to attention.
Silence. Then on came a sort of pumped up Bollywood tectonic. The troupe shook the necessary areas of their bodies as they were intertwined and waved their tambourines and frills.
They must be volunteers, I thought, because they’re smiling.
But I would imagine cheerleaders are supposed to look joyous.
The girls gambolled awhile and in truth it was the most flair I’d seen for a good 20 minutes as a technically efficient German side ground down their opponents.
Sadly the cheerleaders finished their routine just I was starting to fully appreciate their artistic interpretations.
Shortly after the last of the tambourines jingled off, the water fountains came on to spray the pitch.
Sigmund Freud would have chuckled at that one.
But anything about what makes people chortle? Nichts.
A sense of humour does exist. For example: the army of volunteers who have been helping us around the Olympic sites have been instructed to smile at every opportunity possible.
I also need look no further than the manufacturers of the scones available in the press centre cafes. Well the makers must be having a laugh on the poor saps who buy the scone to find that it crumbles into a thousand pieces when it’s cut or bitten.
And whoever decided to dream up cheerleaders for entertainment must be laughing all the way to somewhere.
I spotted a few on Monday night at the Natonal Stadium in the mixed zone - the area where the athletes come and chew over their performances with the media. I noticed them because they were carrying green frills rather than clunky camera combos.
On Tuesday morning I went to see the reigning Olympic champions Germany take on New Zealand in the men's hockey.
There waas an edge about the final Group A match as both sides needed to win to go into the last four.
Germany scored two early goals and went into the half-time break nursing that advantage. As the players walked off the pitch, blaring music went on and spectators started moving towards the refreshment booths. So far so usual.
And then on came 12 young women in red bikini tops and red skirts. They formed two ranks of six either side of the half way line and snapped to attention.
Silence. Then on came a sort of pumped up Bollywood tectonic. The troupe shook the necessary areas of their bodies as they were intertwined and waved their tambourines and frills.
They must be volunteers, I thought, because they’re smiling.
But I would imagine cheerleaders are supposed to look joyous.
The girls gambolled awhile and in truth it was the most flair I’d seen for a good 20 minutes as a technically efficient German side ground down their opponents.
Sadly the cheerleaders finished their routine just I was starting to fully appreciate their artistic interpretations.
Shortly after the last of the tambourines jingled off, the water fountains came on to spray the pitch.
Sigmund Freud would have chuckled at that one.
Monday, 18 August 2008
The Disappointment
Just after the American swimmer Ryan Lochte had won gold in the 200 metres backstroke, he was asked about his eating habits. He mentioned pizzas and products from an American fast food chain. I thought McLochte was alone. Far from it.
Just after destroying the field to set a new world record in the 100 metres on Saturday night, Usain Bolt was asked what kind of day he’d had.
“I never had breakfast,” he said. “Actually I woke up at 11am, sat around watched some TV..then I had lunch....some nuggets…and then I pretty much went back to my room.....slept again for three more hours and then, went back and got some more nuggets and then I came to the track.”
On such a regime McBolt registered a time of 9.69 seconds to become the first Jamaican winner of the title.
These kind of statements should come with the kind of warnings that used to precede TV episodes of Batman: “Don’t try this at home, kids.”
Bolt qualifed for the second round of the 200 metres today just before China went into national mourning over the non-qualification of the golden boy Liu Xiang.
The 25 year old Olympic and world champion in the 110 metres high hurdles pulled up with a gammy ankle during heat six. This is bad news as he was the big hope for a Chinese gold medal at the stadium.
He’s a good looking boy and his face has been plastered everywhere. There was a hastily convened press conference to discuss why the king had left the building.
I’m surprised that there hasn’t been an emergency cabinet meeting. I’d personally impose martial law.
But then I am known to overreact.
I’ve been looking at some of the news agency wires and they’re quoting fans of the man saying the Olympics are over for me.
I personally have seen few signs of self-immolation.
Only yesterday I was musing on how the exploits of Bolt and the American swimmer Michael Phelps had helped the Olympics to emerge from the negative cloud surrounding the prelude to the games.
In essence Liu’s departure won’t diminish it from a sporting point of view as gargantuan feats have already been achieved.
Liu was only mentioned in the same breath as the world record holder Dayron Robles because the so called “Shanghai Express” was the defending champion. Injuries have kept Liu out of action for much of the season.
The saying goes that class is permanent while form is temporary but we all know that excellence nevertheless needs to muscle its way to the top. Eventually it will out.
Since huge marketing campaigns have been launched around Liu, there must be a squadron of executives now flying by the seat of their pants.
He, along with the basketball player Yao Ming, was one of the human product placements of these Olympics.
Liu’s main coach, Sun Haiping, twice broke down in tears during the press conference. While I don’t think he’s going to be taken away and consigned to the salt mines, the outburst underlines the immense pressure that both had been living with.
There was a sense in the press conference that the true extent of the injury had been hidden from the Chinese people. If that’s the case, then that’s just stupid. Injuries are as inevitable to athletes as defeats and victories.
Terrence Trammell, the American contender for the 110 metres high hurdles, pulled up in heat five. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you could see the pain in his eyes as he beat his fist.
It’s bad luck. It happens and you just have to recover and conquer anew.
We’re on the cusp of a perception here. If the crowds now don’t turn up to the events because their one true hero is defunct, then the Shangri-la promoted since the opening ceremony nine days ago will be exposed as a sustained deception.
Chinese athletes have so far garnered 35 golds – already three more than at Athens four years ago. With seven days of competition still left they’re on target to head the medals table
But if they collect all the golds, silvers and bronzes available from this point and the masses still consider the event not to be a success because their champion has gone, then the International Olympic Committee executives who decided to place the Olympic product here will be shown up to be as lame as Liu.
To cite a phrase from an Australian swimmer, we’re in a moment.
Just after destroying the field to set a new world record in the 100 metres on Saturday night, Usain Bolt was asked what kind of day he’d had.
“I never had breakfast,” he said. “Actually I woke up at 11am, sat around watched some TV..then I had lunch....some nuggets…and then I pretty much went back to my room.....slept again for three more hours and then, went back and got some more nuggets and then I came to the track.”
On such a regime McBolt registered a time of 9.69 seconds to become the first Jamaican winner of the title.
These kind of statements should come with the kind of warnings that used to precede TV episodes of Batman: “Don’t try this at home, kids.”
Bolt qualifed for the second round of the 200 metres today just before China went into national mourning over the non-qualification of the golden boy Liu Xiang.
The 25 year old Olympic and world champion in the 110 metres high hurdles pulled up with a gammy ankle during heat six. This is bad news as he was the big hope for a Chinese gold medal at the stadium.
He’s a good looking boy and his face has been plastered everywhere. There was a hastily convened press conference to discuss why the king had left the building.
I’m surprised that there hasn’t been an emergency cabinet meeting. I’d personally impose martial law.
But then I am known to overreact.
I’ve been looking at some of the news agency wires and they’re quoting fans of the man saying the Olympics are over for me.
I personally have seen few signs of self-immolation.
Only yesterday I was musing on how the exploits of Bolt and the American swimmer Michael Phelps had helped the Olympics to emerge from the negative cloud surrounding the prelude to the games.
In essence Liu’s departure won’t diminish it from a sporting point of view as gargantuan feats have already been achieved.
Liu was only mentioned in the same breath as the world record holder Dayron Robles because the so called “Shanghai Express” was the defending champion. Injuries have kept Liu out of action for much of the season.
The saying goes that class is permanent while form is temporary but we all know that excellence nevertheless needs to muscle its way to the top. Eventually it will out.
Since huge marketing campaigns have been launched around Liu, there must be a squadron of executives now flying by the seat of their pants.
He, along with the basketball player Yao Ming, was one of the human product placements of these Olympics.
Liu’s main coach, Sun Haiping, twice broke down in tears during the press conference. While I don’t think he’s going to be taken away and consigned to the salt mines, the outburst underlines the immense pressure that both had been living with.
There was a sense in the press conference that the true extent of the injury had been hidden from the Chinese people. If that’s the case, then that’s just stupid. Injuries are as inevitable to athletes as defeats and victories.
Terrence Trammell, the American contender for the 110 metres high hurdles, pulled up in heat five. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you could see the pain in his eyes as he beat his fist.
It’s bad luck. It happens and you just have to recover and conquer anew.
We’re on the cusp of a perception here. If the crowds now don’t turn up to the events because their one true hero is defunct, then the Shangri-la promoted since the opening ceremony nine days ago will be exposed as a sustained deception.
Chinese athletes have so far garnered 35 golds – already three more than at Athens four years ago. With seven days of competition still left they’re on target to head the medals table
But if they collect all the golds, silvers and bronzes available from this point and the masses still consider the event not to be a success because their champion has gone, then the International Olympic Committee executives who decided to place the Olympic product here will be shown up to be as lame as Liu.
To cite a phrase from an Australian swimmer, we’re in a moment.
Sunday, 17 August 2008
The Legends
What a whirlwind. I’m not sure if it can be classified as 24 hours that changed the world but it was certainly a period of time in which the games emerged from the shadow of their location.
If the event is ultimately deemed a success then two men should be given the keys to Beijing.
On land and in the water Usain Bolt and Michael Phelps respectively have probably injected these Olympics into the consciousness of a generation.
I grew up in Britain watching sports on TV and especially the Olympics with the commentary of David Coleman. And in these moments of competitive drama on the track, it’s his voice that I often hear.
It wasn’t simply the 100 metres. He had to say something like: “The race to determine the fastest man on the planet.”
Give or take the hyperbole, he made it compelling stuff.
Well, taking a leaf out of Coleman’s high octane descriptions, Bolt didn’t win Saturday night’s 100 metres race, he destroyed the field.
Or as I think I said when I was commentating on it: “There was space.”
That’s the thing that I remember. Bolt had time to look around. He was that far ahead.
It wasn’t quite in the league of waving to special fans in the crowd - that would have been disrespectful - but he could have done.
Richard Thompson, the silver medallist, from Trinidad, put it succinctly.
“I felt as if I was with Usain up to 50 metres and then just felt him pulling away after that. I felt I was in a comfortable second position. I just tried to stay relaxed and I felt myself pulling away from the rest of the field and I could see him slowing down and I’m still pumping to the line…
“He’s a phenomenal athlete and I don’t think there’s any way anyone would have beaten him with a run like that.”
In his quest for eight golds Phelps has given us the knife-edge of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. And, as in the best of all the Master of Suspense’s stories, there have been twists and turns.
Phelps had already been anointed the greatest Olympian of all time after collecting his fourth gold medal here – and 10th overall - when he won the 200 metres butterfly.
That put him ahead of the golden gang of nine which included the the Finnish athlete Paavo Nurmi, the American athlete Carl Lewis and the Russian gymnast Larissa Latynina.
Next up was would he equal the seven gold medal haul of the American swimmer Mark Spitz from the 1972 Olympics in Munich.
He did that on Saturday with the fingertip win in the 100 metres butterfly. On Sunday? Would he surpass Spitz and be hailed as lord of all games?
Oddly enough for this he had to rely on others. But the medley relay team of Aaron Peirsol for the backstroke, Brendan Hansen for the breaststroke and Jason Lezak for the freestyle combined to realise the dream.
Five on his own – three with others.
Quite a few of the swimming medallists have been asked to comment on Phelps. And to a man and woman they’ve all essentially said: “Wow.”
They talk about his focus, his consistency and his work ethic.
Grant Hackett, the Australian swimmer who narrowly failed on Sunday to win a third successive Olympic 1500 metres title said: “The level of achievement that he’s done here is phenomenal. In my opinion we’ll never ever see it again. I just don’t think that can be emulated or beaten.
“In this day and age when the sport is so competitive and so close...I said I thought he could win six or seven..... with a little bit of luck.....get eight. And I think in that 100 metres butterfly the way he got on that wall in such a close race everything lined up for him perfectly. He’s done a wonderful job.
“He’s an incredible racer and good on him for what he’s achieved. He’s a nice guy and a good bloke and over the past few years I’ve never seen him change - which is nice.”
Endorsements don’t come bigger than that.
Hackett should know. He said he needed five hours a week of physiotherapy and massage to make sure he can do the kilometres of training needed to be competitive.
At 28 with a couple of Olympic golds and now one silver, no one is really going to tell him he can’t go the distance. But he did sound as if the end was nigh.
And his explanation gave a tiny insight into the lives these athletes lead. But there’s also something at play which goes beyond the everyday discipline of weights and circuit training.
One of the American network camera men who I’ve been chatting to as we’ve been following the agony and joy of the swimmers quipped that Phelps should name his first born son Jason.
It’s not that the other members of the relay teams have done poorly, far from it, it’s just that Lezak has been titanic.
Veteran swimming correspondents spoke of Lezak’s swim last Monday in the freestyle relay as one of the most incredible they’d witnessed.
Lezak jumped into the pool a body length behind Alain Bernard – the second fastest man over 100 metres – and a swimmer who routinely betters him.
Lezak caught him and beat him.
The US team was elemental in its celebrations. Over the next few days every US swimmer would spoke of Lezak’s anchor leg in a race that simply became “the relay”.
Phelps himself has habitually said: “I’ve been speechless since Monday....” And we all know what he is referring to.
Four days after the relay, Bernard won gold in the 100 metres freestyle coming in ahead of the Australian world record holder Eamon Sullivan and Lezak. It was Lezak’s first individual medal in three Olympic games.
Even Bernard talked about how the relay made him reassess and refocus.
On Sunday in the medley relay Lezak plunged into the water with a lead of 0.81 seconds on Sullivan.
Afer the race Lezak said that before he went in he told himself that if he could catch a man that usually beats him then Sullivan, who also usually beats him, could rein him in.
He added: “Obviously I wanted to take it out hard and hold on as strong as I could.”
Lezak touched first with 0.70 of a second to spare.
So are legends spawned.
If the event is ultimately deemed a success then two men should be given the keys to Beijing.
On land and in the water Usain Bolt and Michael Phelps respectively have probably injected these Olympics into the consciousness of a generation.
I grew up in Britain watching sports on TV and especially the Olympics with the commentary of David Coleman. And in these moments of competitive drama on the track, it’s his voice that I often hear.
It wasn’t simply the 100 metres. He had to say something like: “The race to determine the fastest man on the planet.”
Give or take the hyperbole, he made it compelling stuff.
Well, taking a leaf out of Coleman’s high octane descriptions, Bolt didn’t win Saturday night’s 100 metres race, he destroyed the field.
Or as I think I said when I was commentating on it: “There was space.”
That’s the thing that I remember. Bolt had time to look around. He was that far ahead.
It wasn’t quite in the league of waving to special fans in the crowd - that would have been disrespectful - but he could have done.
Richard Thompson, the silver medallist, from Trinidad, put it succinctly.
“I felt as if I was with Usain up to 50 metres and then just felt him pulling away after that. I felt I was in a comfortable second position. I just tried to stay relaxed and I felt myself pulling away from the rest of the field and I could see him slowing down and I’m still pumping to the line…
“He’s a phenomenal athlete and I don’t think there’s any way anyone would have beaten him with a run like that.”
In his quest for eight golds Phelps has given us the knife-edge of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. And, as in the best of all the Master of Suspense’s stories, there have been twists and turns.
Phelps had already been anointed the greatest Olympian of all time after collecting his fourth gold medal here – and 10th overall - when he won the 200 metres butterfly.
That put him ahead of the golden gang of nine which included the the Finnish athlete Paavo Nurmi, the American athlete Carl Lewis and the Russian gymnast Larissa Latynina.
Next up was would he equal the seven gold medal haul of the American swimmer Mark Spitz from the 1972 Olympics in Munich.
He did that on Saturday with the fingertip win in the 100 metres butterfly. On Sunday? Would he surpass Spitz and be hailed as lord of all games?
Oddly enough for this he had to rely on others. But the medley relay team of Aaron Peirsol for the backstroke, Brendan Hansen for the breaststroke and Jason Lezak for the freestyle combined to realise the dream.
Five on his own – three with others.
Quite a few of the swimming medallists have been asked to comment on Phelps. And to a man and woman they’ve all essentially said: “Wow.”
They talk about his focus, his consistency and his work ethic.
Grant Hackett, the Australian swimmer who narrowly failed on Sunday to win a third successive Olympic 1500 metres title said: “The level of achievement that he’s done here is phenomenal. In my opinion we’ll never ever see it again. I just don’t think that can be emulated or beaten.
“In this day and age when the sport is so competitive and so close...I said I thought he could win six or seven..... with a little bit of luck.....get eight. And I think in that 100 metres butterfly the way he got on that wall in such a close race everything lined up for him perfectly. He’s done a wonderful job.
“He’s an incredible racer and good on him for what he’s achieved. He’s a nice guy and a good bloke and over the past few years I’ve never seen him change - which is nice.”
Endorsements don’t come bigger than that.
Hackett should know. He said he needed five hours a week of physiotherapy and massage to make sure he can do the kilometres of training needed to be competitive.
At 28 with a couple of Olympic golds and now one silver, no one is really going to tell him he can’t go the distance. But he did sound as if the end was nigh.
And his explanation gave a tiny insight into the lives these athletes lead. But there’s also something at play which goes beyond the everyday discipline of weights and circuit training.
One of the American network camera men who I’ve been chatting to as we’ve been following the agony and joy of the swimmers quipped that Phelps should name his first born son Jason.
It’s not that the other members of the relay teams have done poorly, far from it, it’s just that Lezak has been titanic.
Veteran swimming correspondents spoke of Lezak’s swim last Monday in the freestyle relay as one of the most incredible they’d witnessed.
Lezak jumped into the pool a body length behind Alain Bernard – the second fastest man over 100 metres – and a swimmer who routinely betters him.
Lezak caught him and beat him.
The US team was elemental in its celebrations. Over the next few days every US swimmer would spoke of Lezak’s anchor leg in a race that simply became “the relay”.
Phelps himself has habitually said: “I’ve been speechless since Monday....” And we all know what he is referring to.
Four days after the relay, Bernard won gold in the 100 metres freestyle coming in ahead of the Australian world record holder Eamon Sullivan and Lezak. It was Lezak’s first individual medal in three Olympic games.
Even Bernard talked about how the relay made him reassess and refocus.
On Sunday in the medley relay Lezak plunged into the water with a lead of 0.81 seconds on Sullivan.
Afer the race Lezak said that before he went in he told himself that if he could catch a man that usually beats him then Sullivan, who also usually beats him, could rein him in.
He added: “Obviously I wanted to take it out hard and hold on as strong as I could.”
Lezak touched first with 0.70 of a second to spare.
So are legends spawned.
Saturday, 16 August 2008
The Cleaners
Much of the pre-Games focus on China was the relative lack of freedom, dodgy international initiatives and monolithic political systems. But still we came.
Much was hyped about the prominent policing that would make all us visitors feel safe. Well I haven’t been attacked yet. But then again I haven’t been anywhere outside the vortex of hotel – venues – hotel.
Nothing as far as I can recall was highlighted about something altogether far more insidious – visible cleaning.
It’s a tough and sustained crackdown on grime. It’s vicious.
At the hotel where I rest my head but for a few hours, the waitresses in the breakfast room patrol with diligence so they can administer tea or coffee.
I’ve experienced them terminate breakfast with extreme prejudice.
One morning, there was more or less half a piece of toast on my plate when I got up to go and get a bit more coffee. When I returned the plate had been cleared away. I turned my back for a second and it was gone.
Now whether that’s a metaphor for a wider political malaise, well I’ll leave that for another blog. Maybe one when I’m home.
However since it’s so dangerous to get up I stockpile all that I need.
The policy of termination is operational at the Water Cube.
After witnessing the most controversial morning of swimming since the games began, I went into the cluster of tables outside the commentary positions.
I was there to reflect on Michael Phelps’s acquisition of his seventh gold medal. He won the 100 metres butterfly in 50.58 seconds. The Serbian Milorad Cavic was clocked in at 50.59.
But pictures shown in the pool made it look like the Serb had won.
The Serbs lodged an appeal against the result and an hour or so later Phelps was reconfirmed as the winner. Nothing wrong with the timekeeping harrumphed the blue jackets from FINA, international swimmings governing body.
There’s not much wrong with the Water Cube it’s a bit like an art gallery – lots of white – lots of yonic symbols. I was starting to chill out as I listened to the post swim interviews that I'd recorded. But the cool is destroyed by things like mops propped up against walls and cloths nestling on ledges. In one of the toilets a mop was stuffed into a urinal.
I just hope that’s not used to clean the floors.
As I started to break into the complimentary biscuits and coffee, the cleaner walked past me and cast a lingering look at this pocket of activity.
A few minutes later she returned, stopped and pushed an askew chair neatly under my table before continuing her passage.
She went past again. This time I followed her and she disappeared out of sight.
I sat there thinking what would be more subversive making a big mess or clearing up.
Well given that I have three children I realise I spend my entire waking life clearing up. So I brushed the crumbs into the cup and got up to make my move.
From out of nowhere the cleaner arrived.
I hope it was coincidence.
Much was hyped about the prominent policing that would make all us visitors feel safe. Well I haven’t been attacked yet. But then again I haven’t been anywhere outside the vortex of hotel – venues – hotel.
Nothing as far as I can recall was highlighted about something altogether far more insidious – visible cleaning.
It’s a tough and sustained crackdown on grime. It’s vicious.
At the hotel where I rest my head but for a few hours, the waitresses in the breakfast room patrol with diligence so they can administer tea or coffee.
I’ve experienced them terminate breakfast with extreme prejudice.
One morning, there was more or less half a piece of toast on my plate when I got up to go and get a bit more coffee. When I returned the plate had been cleared away. I turned my back for a second and it was gone.
Now whether that’s a metaphor for a wider political malaise, well I’ll leave that for another blog. Maybe one when I’m home.
However since it’s so dangerous to get up I stockpile all that I need.
The policy of termination is operational at the Water Cube.
After witnessing the most controversial morning of swimming since the games began, I went into the cluster of tables outside the commentary positions.
I was there to reflect on Michael Phelps’s acquisition of his seventh gold medal. He won the 100 metres butterfly in 50.58 seconds. The Serbian Milorad Cavic was clocked in at 50.59.
But pictures shown in the pool made it look like the Serb had won.
The Serbs lodged an appeal against the result and an hour or so later Phelps was reconfirmed as the winner. Nothing wrong with the timekeeping harrumphed the blue jackets from FINA, international swimmings governing body.
There’s not much wrong with the Water Cube it’s a bit like an art gallery – lots of white – lots of yonic symbols. I was starting to chill out as I listened to the post swim interviews that I'd recorded. But the cool is destroyed by things like mops propped up against walls and cloths nestling on ledges. In one of the toilets a mop was stuffed into a urinal.
I just hope that’s not used to clean the floors.
As I started to break into the complimentary biscuits and coffee, the cleaner walked past me and cast a lingering look at this pocket of activity.
A few minutes later she returned, stopped and pushed an askew chair neatly under my table before continuing her passage.
She went past again. This time I followed her and she disappeared out of sight.
I sat there thinking what would be more subversive making a big mess or clearing up.
Well given that I have three children I realise I spend my entire waking life clearing up. So I brushed the crumbs into the cup and got up to make my move.
From out of nowhere the cleaner arrived.
I hope it was coincidence.
Friday, 15 August 2008
The Numbers
Only vehicles with licence plates ending in odd numbers were allowed on the road on Friday.
The Beijing authorities implemented this policy in July of banning cars on alternate days depending on their number plates. The scheme, which is scheduled to run until late September, is aimed at cutting congestion and reducing the fumes.
And it was an odd day. You could look up into the sky and it was blue. It wasn’t clear as there were a few clouds around.
But it was a familiar template. And it arrived courtesy of a massive downpour on Thursday. What I’ve found oppressive about Beijing so far has been the lack of height or perspective.
I’m used to looking up into the heavens and thinking with childlike innocence: wow that’s a long way up. I’ve become accustomed to peering into the distance even within the context of a cityscape.
When it’s grey and humid - as it has been for the most part since I arrived 10 days ago – it’s easy to feel leaden and oppressed.
I guess that’s how Michael Phelps’s opponents would regard themselves.
Normal service was resumed in the swimming pool where the 23 year old from Baltimore claimed gold medal number six. That’s 12 amassed since the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney. This latest bauble came in the 200 metres individual medley. It was another world record.
Ryan Lochte, one of Phelps’s best buddies on the US team, won the 200 metres backstroke final and then had to get out of the pool and prepare for the medley final. He got a bronze in that so that was a marvellous feat for a man who, when asked about his diet during the games, gave a ringing endorsement to fast foods and one American burger chain in particular.
But while McLochte was adding another client to his portfolio of sponsors, one of the worst breaches of protocol was unfolding in the corner of the press conference room.
A bunch of German journalists who’d set up a press conference within the room before Lochte entered, were continuing to quiz their man.
And they didn’t seem to mind carrying on while Lochte and Aaron Peirsol were trying to talk about their 200 metres backstroke final.
The corps of volunteers who usually assure the smooth efficiency of the room were flummoxed.
They waited and hoped the miscreants would stop. Nothing of the sort.
Worse, they moved into a more central position and the din started to rise.
Eventually a reluctant volunteer began trying to shoo the pack out. They took their time.
Either their decorum had been frazzled by the gold medal success of Britta Steffen in the 100 metres freestyle final that morning or I was witnessing their usual modus operandi.
Very odd.
The Beijing authorities implemented this policy in July of banning cars on alternate days depending on their number plates. The scheme, which is scheduled to run until late September, is aimed at cutting congestion and reducing the fumes.
And it was an odd day. You could look up into the sky and it was blue. It wasn’t clear as there were a few clouds around.
But it was a familiar template. And it arrived courtesy of a massive downpour on Thursday. What I’ve found oppressive about Beijing so far has been the lack of height or perspective.
I’m used to looking up into the heavens and thinking with childlike innocence: wow that’s a long way up. I’ve become accustomed to peering into the distance even within the context of a cityscape.
When it’s grey and humid - as it has been for the most part since I arrived 10 days ago – it’s easy to feel leaden and oppressed.
I guess that’s how Michael Phelps’s opponents would regard themselves.
Normal service was resumed in the swimming pool where the 23 year old from Baltimore claimed gold medal number six. That’s 12 amassed since the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney. This latest bauble came in the 200 metres individual medley. It was another world record.
Ryan Lochte, one of Phelps’s best buddies on the US team, won the 200 metres backstroke final and then had to get out of the pool and prepare for the medley final. He got a bronze in that so that was a marvellous feat for a man who, when asked about his diet during the games, gave a ringing endorsement to fast foods and one American burger chain in particular.
But while McLochte was adding another client to his portfolio of sponsors, one of the worst breaches of protocol was unfolding in the corner of the press conference room.
A bunch of German journalists who’d set up a press conference within the room before Lochte entered, were continuing to quiz their man.
And they didn’t seem to mind carrying on while Lochte and Aaron Peirsol were trying to talk about their 200 metres backstroke final.
The corps of volunteers who usually assure the smooth efficiency of the room were flummoxed.
They waited and hoped the miscreants would stop. Nothing of the sort.
Worse, they moved into a more central position and the din started to rise.
Eventually a reluctant volunteer began trying to shoo the pack out. They took their time.
Either their decorum had been frazzled by the gold medal success of Britta Steffen in the 100 metres freestyle final that morning or I was witnessing their usual modus operandi.
Very odd.
Thursday, 14 August 2008
The Corner
Oh yes I’ve settled in. Well and truly into my stride. It must be something to do with recovery from the jet lag. It might in fact have something to do with being better lagged.
I was finding it slightly odd that I was sniffing despite temperatures being between 88 and 92F. All the pre-games publicity about the environment made me think it might be something to do with air quality.
But I think it’s the air conditioning. I’m not used to it. Numbing humidity outside into the Ice Station Zebra that is the International Broadcast Centre.
For a press conference involving the soon to be anointed world number one tennis player Rafael Nadal and the rest of the Spain team, I went from the ice station out into the clammy madness and into the Main Press Centre which must also be microclimatically linked to the polar caps.
Not good.
To offset these extremes I’ve now started wearing a jacket inside the IBC.
It's bizarre that I need to think about extra layers in these sort of temperatures but ay, there’s the rub.
I feel cosier and that’s made me feel better or it’s perhaps overheating my self-belief.
While being given a cordial but functional tour of the Olympic Village Pin Centre, the pin ambassador was explaining to me the environmentally friendly properties of the centre.
She added: “China is a big country and so we’ve got to be aware of not making too much pollution.”
“Is that something your generation is more aware of? I inquired. “What, you’re 22? 23?....are those the kind of things you were told about during your school days…..?
“No I’m 19......”
“Oh I’m sorry, it’s just that your English is so good I thought you must be older...”
Even I knew the needle had exploded off the smarmometer. But I needed to oil myself out of a glaring error. But Chen Xi – all 19 years of her – guided me a tad more fervently around the centre outlining in far more detail the whizzer projects.
There’s one in which the athletes are given a T shirt emblazoned with: “I’m From Earth” because it has been made from five recycled plastic bottles.
Indeed as she was telling me, a Croatian athlete was measuring up for his free sample. He was XXL and actually looked like he was hewn from granite.
The drift is to hand the T shirts it out to the competitors so that when they wear it they will remember their time in Beijing and also highlight China’s increasing desire for environmental engagement. When I spoke to Ms Chen only 5,000 of the 11,000athletes staying in the Olympic Village had taken up the offer.
I suggested that any leftovers should be handed out to the journalists. “That’s always a great way to get the message across,” I added.
“That’s a good idea. I will say it to my manager.”
Touché.
I was finding it slightly odd that I was sniffing despite temperatures being between 88 and 92F. All the pre-games publicity about the environment made me think it might be something to do with air quality.
But I think it’s the air conditioning. I’m not used to it. Numbing humidity outside into the Ice Station Zebra that is the International Broadcast Centre.
For a press conference involving the soon to be anointed world number one tennis player Rafael Nadal and the rest of the Spain team, I went from the ice station out into the clammy madness and into the Main Press Centre which must also be microclimatically linked to the polar caps.
Not good.
To offset these extremes I’ve now started wearing a jacket inside the IBC.
It's bizarre that I need to think about extra layers in these sort of temperatures but ay, there’s the rub.
I feel cosier and that’s made me feel better or it’s perhaps overheating my self-belief.
While being given a cordial but functional tour of the Olympic Village Pin Centre, the pin ambassador was explaining to me the environmentally friendly properties of the centre.
She added: “China is a big country and so we’ve got to be aware of not making too much pollution.”
“Is that something your generation is more aware of? I inquired. “What, you’re 22? 23?....are those the kind of things you were told about during your school days…..?
“No I’m 19......”
“Oh I’m sorry, it’s just that your English is so good I thought you must be older...”
Even I knew the needle had exploded off the smarmometer. But I needed to oil myself out of a glaring error. But Chen Xi – all 19 years of her – guided me a tad more fervently around the centre outlining in far more detail the whizzer projects.
There’s one in which the athletes are given a T shirt emblazoned with: “I’m From Earth” because it has been made from five recycled plastic bottles.
Indeed as she was telling me, a Croatian athlete was measuring up for his free sample. He was XXL and actually looked like he was hewn from granite.
The drift is to hand the T shirts it out to the competitors so that when they wear it they will remember their time in Beijing and also highlight China’s increasing desire for environmental engagement. When I spoke to Ms Chen only 5,000 of the 11,000athletes staying in the Olympic Village had taken up the offer.
I suggested that any leftovers should be handed out to the journalists. “That’s always a great way to get the message across,” I added.
“That’s a good idea. I will say it to my manager.”
Touché.
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