Let The Games begin

Seven years after the bid was won – a day that seems, if not like yesterday, then the day before yesterday – the Olympic dream for London comes to fruition.  It will be an overused word in relation to itself, but it cannot be denied – the opening ceremony was a triumph and Danny Boyle, the artistic director, deserves all the kudos he will undoubtedly receive.  From Bond to Bean to Beckham, Kenneth Branagh reciting Shakespeare and J K Rowling reading J M Barry and the whole overall spectacle was immensely enjoyable and, at times, awe-inspiring. 

The lighting of the Olympic Bowl was evidence of genius at work.  Making us think that it was Sir Steve Redgrave that would be making the much vaunted final step was clever in throwing our expectations.  Having seven young athletes selected by seven sporting legends summed up one of the key parts of the bid – inspiring a generation (how much of that generation is another matter).  The way the torch was brought together was outstanding.

I was very fond of the love shown for the much-maligned NHS.  Given that this was going out at prime time across the USA, this was a slap in the face for all the commentators there who criticised it.  I wonder how this section was received more widely from sea to shining sea.

In a three and a half hour extravaganza trying to cram in as much Britishness as possible, there will inevitably be parts queried as to why they were left out.  From a person who once trained for the priesthood, I would have preferred to see a little bit more of an explicit nod to the country’s Christian heritage beyond the three hymns and the national anthem, say a parish church in the bucolic village at the start, but that may have been too much of a minefield.  Why Barry but no Charles Dickens or Chaucer, no Robbie Burns or Dylan Thomas?  As with the music, there is such a wide variety and quality that it would be impossible to include everything.  With regard to the melody medley, there are many bands that didn’t make the cut but I would still have liked to have had ten-second snatches from Radiohead and The Smiths (there are up-tempo if not always upbeat songs to be found in the playlist), though, even with the presence of other anti-establishment music, Morrissey might have been enough of the contrarian to veto any of his old band’s back catalogue.  I noticed that space was found for Irish band U2 in the athletes’ parade.

Regarding that parade, it was a lovely touch by the French squad to wave union flags as well as tricolours, despite Paris losing out to London all those years ago.  The BBC wasn’t entirely referring to the now Russian prime minister as ‘President Medvedev’ (though it wasn’t Huw Edwards but Hazel Irvine who made the slip); they noticeably were very uncomfortable saying anything about the Syrian team, preferring to riff on Switzerland’s Roger Federer’s match. 

It was very generous of IOC President Jacques Rogge to call Britain the birthplace of sport vis-à-vis the codification of many rules and British sporting fair play.  All in all, a wonderful evening.  The world in one city indeed. The 30^th Olympiad has begun in spectacular style.