Can it really be four years since we watched Stephanie Rice tear up the pool for a new world record in the four hundred medley?
Hold on. What was that I just wrote? Did I really just type the words, ‘tear up the pool’?
Yes, I did.
That’s what the Olympics does. It changes us from normal, calm citizens into crazed experts who speak like Bruce McEveney on speed.
The weirdest thing is – we remain expert for all of two weeks, then forget about the modern pentathlon for another four years.
But when the that big old lamp is lit, whether it’s in a bowl, on a stick, in a tube or an oversize brandy balloon, the Olympic games is what it’s all about.
I’m not normally a sports nut. I umpire my eight year old’s netball, I go along to the odd AFL game because my mum and my son love it, and I find listening to Test cricket in the car oddly relaxing. But the Olympics gets me going. I have compiled a list of the reasons why:
1. The clothes. It’s like a fashion parade, but with models of all shapes and sizes. No wonder designers are slammed. Getting together an ensemble which suits both a 14 year old whippet of a gymnast and a 150kg Greco-Roman wrestler must be something of a challenge. Nothing more fun than texting your mates late at night, ‘LOL check out the Lithuanians. WTF?’
2. The perv factor. Mens. Diving.
3. The medal tally. Endless office discussion here. How many bronzes equals a gold?