Waddock Hunt

You know me. Actually, maybe you don't as the readership seems to have
changed somewhat of late. Whereas before it was mainly friends and
family who I would drunkenly insist visited my blog to try solicit
feedback and page views, now it seems that I have a variety of
Lithuanians and Russians who are avid readers. The cynical side of me
suspects its some sort of trawling trojan based in Moscow and Ljubiana

Totally awesome

I've started using the word 'awesome' with no apparent irony,
affected American accent or embarrassment. This appears to be my
personal legacy from London 2012.

While there are still six days to go, my own Olympics is slowing down.

Home time

The man opposite me is silent. Pensive.

The man opposite me wears clothes chosen by his wife. He is not image-conscious, nor do I think he is persecuting me; not this man opposite me.

The man opposite me is no international hit man, no man of mystery. His socks are standard-issue black, far from mundane blue. There is no suspicious bulge at his ankle nor in his jeans; I have no reason to suspect he is concealing a massive Glock.

Cocoon III

Day three of the Olympics and the magic has truly begun: all of the
commuters have morphed into geriatrics and tourists. Geriatric
tourists, too. My carriage has attained Mothball Odour Factor 7 which,
even when seasonally adjusted, is unseasonally high. An expected MOF
at this time of summer would be 2-3.

The man opposite me is clearly a spy.

The Highs and Lows of Being a Brit

The best we can hope for is a huge piece of ribbon suspended across the stadium with the Queen and Philly taking one scissor, Boris Johnson and Seb Coe taking the other and a quick snip snip, "I declare the games open, now start running, I've got to get to the bingo at nine."

That was truly what I believed would be the best riposte to Beijing's incredible display in 2008. No point competing when you're not going to win. That's the Olympic way. In fact, I don't think I actually saw the CGI fireworks over Beijing, the pretty girl who didn't sing nor the amazing drumming. Not live, anyway. I did eventually see each of these events but only through HerTube as the missus would have encouraged me to have a butchers as she was reviewing them. Not 'reviewing'; 'reviewing'. Seeing them again, not analysing.

I have actively avoided opening and closing ceremonies in all sports since 1992.