The sporting heroes who competed in the marvellous London Olympics need time to take stock and come down from their performance highs. We, the spectators, need time to digest and appreciate what we have witnessed. I have acres of newsprint to pore over, iPlayer and TV recordings to revisit and discussions at highest pub-level yet to be enjoyed; I have plenty of scope to blog-bore throughout the autumn.
As the weird and wonderful Closing Ceremony gloriously assaulted our senses last night, the news of the Community Shield match between Man City and Chelsea crept into the living room. One of the Toure brothers had thrown away his winners’ medal in a fit of pique because he hadn’t been asked to leave the subs bench. In the blink of an eye we all realised the extraordinary gap between the decency, endeavour, generosity, sportsmanship and, yes heroism, of our athletes, coaches and volunteers and the mean-spirited, tawdry, selfish, murky world of Premiership football.
I have no appetite for the coming soccer-season after the Michelin-starred feast of the last fortnight – with more uplift, I am sure from the Paralympics. But history tells us that we get sucked back into the shabby vortex and can’t help history repeating itself. Maybe so. For the time being, at least, let’s inhale deeply. The sporting air smells so good right now.
simplysorro 