One Man, One Dream.
Last day of the Olympics and I have handball gold medal tickets. I love handball, it’s fast paced, I understand the checking rules that leave me bemused with basketball and it’s in the Olympic Green. The sun is shining and the trip to the Green is pleasant enough. I have heard so much about the vibe of the green, the carnival atmosphere, people meeting up before an event for some food and maybe a beer.
I got to the main plaza between the water cube and the bird’s nest, easily located by the swinging rhythms of a large Cuban ensemble on the main stage. The area was decked out wonderfully with rows of colourful tents marked out as different regions of China and serving really very reasonably priced 小吃, snack food, from the relevant area. The staff were also, somewhat oddly, attired in local get up.
We had made good time, and with disregard to yard-arms my friend and I sat down for a beer. We where sitting at a long table between some Iceland fans - hoping for Handball glory and a family up from Cheng Du who simply had passes to the green. The son - obviously top of his class in at the Sichuan institute for precociousness - was practicing his English with the top to toe red and white Icelanders, already in good cheer. The parents chatted with us, saying that they where surprised the people from Iceland spoke English. Better than most English folk, we assured them. They where also surprised how much Chinese we spoke, they said they had met to many foreigners in Beijing for the games and wondered how they got by in Chinese. I asked them about what they had come to see and they replied that they had wanted an excuse to come and see the wife’s parents in Beijing for a while and with everyone raving about the carnival of the Olympics they felt now was the time, noting they had really enjoyed themselves and the Olympic themed activities around the city. I snuck in a quick - welcome to Beijing as some Fu Wa (mascots) led a conga line of colour draped orange wig wearing fans toward the stadium gate… a reminder to get seated. It was a shame to leave the sunshine and the fun, and with big screen coverage of all the events of the day - it almost seemed worth missing a few minutes of the bronze medal game.
The party gets going at the Olympic Green.
Iceland won the gold in a narrow 324-320 tussle.
Update:
That was a joke people. In the wave of gushing praise for the games Sunday’s experience leaves me wanting to say one thing. There is one aspect in which this games was an abject failure. It was a self conscious, inward looking, fearful event, with little or no celebration to it. On Sunday we were herded between wire fences from security entrance, to joyless, foodless venue and into buses to be shipped away again. No chance to soak in the scene, no chance to meet anyone - local or foreign.
The games were an amazing organisational and sporting triumph for China. But for those who attended them, there was no warmth from the host that did so much to claim it welcomed them.
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