For two weeks, every four years, something strange happens to me. I go from a quiet, book-loving, coffee-drinking, gallery-visiting kind of gal to a person my friends and family, not to mention myself, can barely recognise.
Suddenly I’m an expert in every sport, including ones I’ve never played before like handball and shooting. The sports pages become my go-to section in the morning, the news section being discarded on the floor. I start guzzling sports drinks instead of my dark roasted brew.
I take up tennis for about, oh, 10 days. I will even do some stretches before my twice-weekly walk. I will buy a Nike tee-shirt.
It is my Olympics curse. And I love this brief but exciting period of insanity; a time when the whole nation forgets its petty indifferences and comes together on something that really matters – beating the Poms and the Yanks.
This curse of course doesn’t just strike me. But it does look especially ridiculous when I leave my house to do a ‘breezy’ 10km run after watching the marathon, and pull up 200m later with a stitch.
But I don’t care. The Olympics aren’t about being cool. If that were the case, the cycling team would re-think those lycra outfits and our national colours would be fuchsia and liquid silver – very hot colours this season.
In an era when our differences are more prominent than what we share in common, the Olympics are an antidote to those feelings of cultural isolation. It’s one of the few times you can hop onto a bus, look a stranger in the eyes and smile, because you’re both thinking the same thing – we won!
During those two glorious weeks, we all want the same thing – gold and glory. The athletes may cross the line in first position but it’s the nation that really wins. We feel it and it brings a much-needed glow to our collective souls. When Stephanie Rice dives into the pool, the country can forget the carbon tax and dodgy economy – we have something more important to think about.
Top Comments
I'm like that with the World Cup. Suddenly I'm a football expert and can name all the Australian players (and the Brittish) and have an opinion on how each of them play. The rest time the time I can barely remember when my local A-Leaugue team are playing or the name of my little brother's football team.
My family gets highly irritated at me during the Olympics. I drop all other activities so I can firmly position myself in front of the the telly. I watch all events that the Aussies are in. I cook for months before hand and store in the freezer all meal we will need during the two weeks. I am so tired staying up late to watch events live. Can't explain it, I just love the games. I am always crying when we achieve any medal. The first games I remember were the Moscow games, from then on I was always going to get along to the games at some stage. Of course I got to go to the Sydney games (I still tear up when I see footage of Kathy winning her race) I have planned a trip to see the next games in Rio as it will be one big carnival!!!