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| The Olympic flame on 'Super Saturday' |
It was probably the most used phrase in the British lexicon leading up to London 2012 and, by 27 July, had become a bit of cliché. Even five-year-old children were using it when interviewed by BBC News.
But, in the end, it seems the most apt way of describing the magical two weeks we have all just been a part of.
Now I am back at my day job, and have had a few days to reflect on my experience as a Games Maker, I am better placed to list out some of my highlights. So, here are three of mine
1. Opening ceremony
It may seem hard to believe now, but we had all feared the worst. After Beijing, how would we do this? Quite rightly, many were using the handover sequence from the Beijing closing ceremony as a template. If that was the case it was going to be an embarrassment.
One thing changed that: Danny Boyle. What Boyle offered up was a work of genius – compacting all that was great about Britain into three disparate, but equally enthralling, segments. The moment when the five rings were forged high above the stadium, dripping firework glitter onto the stadium below, gets me every time. It was beautiful.
The pacing was also spot on – the decision to get the Arctic Monkeys to play ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor’ straight after the lull of the athletes parade was a masterstroke.
Ultimately, though, the ceremony set the tone before a starting gun had been fired. While Beijing had spectacle, it didn’t have personality or soul. Ours did.
We all owe Boyle a debt for capturing us as a nation so magnificently. There were no dry eyes in my house that night – and they were tears of pride, and also of relief, that the world was seeing exactly who we were as a nation.
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| Me en route to another shift |
The Park was an amazing place to be every day. I never tired of walking out of Stratford and onto the Park – even with thousands of people to fight through to get to my shift.
People were just happy to be there. I lost count of the number of times I saw people posing for photographs with their tickets. The much-maligned ticketing process obviously making them feel like golden ones.
My lasting memory, however, will be walking across the Park on my way home each night and hearing the cacophony of roars from each venue as I went. It was electrifying.
3. Super Saturday
Back when I had got my Games Maker shifts I was given Saturday 4 August off. When I saw the athletics schedule – and realised that it was the second day of Jessica Ennis’s heptathlon – I knew I had to try and make it to one of the sessions.
Through endless perseverance, I ended up with tickets to both. I was very lucky. In the morning we were sat next to the flame – it was great seeing it so close up. The atmosphere was unbelievable as we watched Jess do her thing.
Probably my over-riding memory of that morning was of seeing Oscar Pistorius reduced to tears by the crowd reaction on his debut at the Olympics. Unforgettable in every way.
By the evening it was clear that, save an injury, Ennis would almost certainly win the heptathlon. This led to an excited crowd. After some heats of other events, we got to Jess.
When the gun went the crowd went ballistic and as she came into the home straight and took the lead the noise, coupled with a sea of union jacks around the whole stadium, was overwhelming. No wonder Jess burst into tears after winning. I think we all did.
In the melee the long jump competition was on-going and we had all missed that Greg Rutherford had extended his lead. This couldn’t be a second gold, could it? As we anxiously watched his competitors try to nick the gold in the last round, Mo Farah came out to warm up for the 10,000m.
At that point everywhere you looked in the stadium there was either adulation (Ennis on her victory lap), tension (long jump final round) or expectation (Farah warming up). It was a surreal experience.
The 10,000m started. Being a long race, we knew it was a good 30 minutes until the denouement, so we all focused on the long jump. Rutherford did it – and did a victory lap as Mo churned out the laps.
Again, we didn’t know where to look. Surely we couldn’t get three golds? I looked to my other half and said: ‘You know what, Mo’s gonna do this. I can just feel it’.
The bell signalled the final lap and Mo moved to the front. He held his position round the final bend, but looked under pressure. We were sat right at the start of the home straight and he had a small lead. The roar went up – deafening, suffocating. It felt like the wall of noise was actually pushing Mo along.
It worked. With 70m to go he opened up a gap we all knew couldn’t be breached. We all lost it. Big time. I have never jumped and cheered so loudly than I did when he crossed the line. Wow, just wow.
Those are just three of my highlights – there are many, many more. Jade Jones’s hat-throwing celebration after securing Britain’s first Taekwondo gold is one. Boxer Nicola Adams’s revelation that she would be celebrating gold by hitting Nando’s was another.
Once in a lifetime it was. And that’s probably the saddest thing of all.
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