Sunday, August 5
(Please excuse the typos. Will hurry. Theres much Olympics to explore.)
Breakfast: Mixed fruit, the awesome crunchy bacon (ACB) is back!, great link sausage, scrambled eggs, canaloni beans (pork n to us rednecks), wheat toast with currant jelly, orange juice, yogurt.
About two minutes after the awesome hour for the Brits Saturday night on the track, a friend e-mailed, now I know what its like to be an American.
Commute: Strangely, the 8 a.m. red double-decker bus turned left instead of the usual right leaving Russell Square, sending the journalistsand meinfo a semi-frenzy. Those of who had been paying attention for the last 10 days thought we were on the wrong bus. I had my own doubts until I remembered that the womens marathon is today and the course snakes along Victoria Embankment, so our regular street was closed. It was great because we got to see a different part of town. Nicki got our familys sighting of the Tower Bridge last night.
Volunteer du jour: Mark, working security outside the velodrome. Dancing to the Beatles and smiling as the sunshine reflected off his beautiful shaved black head. Did he sign up as a volunteer to he could tell people they can go where they think they can go? Its not what I imagined. But it is what it is. I am quite grateful for the opportunity.
British headline that you wont see in an American newspaper: Velodrome crowd revel (sic) in Britains cycling hegemony.
Lunch: Half a burrito. Peanut butter crackers. Cookies.
Todays confirmation that George Bernard Shaw was right when he wrote that we and the British are two peoples separated by a common language. We havent talked about spelling, but there are many differences. I like pyjamas best. But organisation is close.
Speaking of Shaw, I hope to hear some excited British fan at the track meet say, Come on, Dover, move yer bloomin' arse! But, well, this isnt Ascot.
Linda Grant, heretofore an anti-Olympics columnist in The Independent is beginning to see the light, calling the Games .an extraordinary, democratic spectacle of passionate enthusiasts, mostly amateur, who will return home to day jobs.
And, what has happened to London is that, in the space of a few days, it has become filled with hordes of individuals and families who are happy. The last time so many people were enjoying themselves as much in London must have been VE Day.
That says it all.
Took the red Olympic Park double-decker bus to track cycling this afternoon. The beautiful venue was electric. The event was individual pursuit, the sport where nobody wants to be in the leadthe one where the guys almost come to a stop trying to be in second place until the last frenetic lap. Second place is best because of the element of surprise. I think I saw 10 races and the person who was in the lead entering the last lap one just one of them.
The building had an air-lock entrance, I guess to keep wind from getting inside and interfering with the athletes. The infield is a maze of little corrals, where the riders warm up on stationary bikes slight more upscale than the one in Steve Horstmans guest bedroom.
Weather: Sunny early, then a shower, then more sun. High 70, low 59. Folks have given up on warm weather, and are just happy with drywhich happens for part of every day. The clouds are lovely cumulus, then a shower blows through, and then the sun returns and the cycle repeats itself
On my goodness: a reporter asked Ryan Lochte if he pees in the pool. Whats next?
Nicki and I rode the red double-decker Olympic Park bus to the Olympic Stadium. I went to see the steeplechase finals and was happy that so many thousands of others had also become steeplechase fans. Nicki tried to tell me that all those other people were there for the mens 100-meter finals, but I refuse to believe it.
We also got to see my favorite event: the 400 hurdles. This was only the heats, so we got five 400-hurdles races. It was Heaven. Or Iowa. They we had the good fortune to watch Oscar Pistorius in the 400-meter semifinals. I think he finished last in his heat, but was an honor to watch him run. He is truly an inspiration.
Seriously, of course, the mens 100 meters is the most beloved Olympic event, and it showed because everybody and his grandmother showed up in the press section which quickly filled to overflowing. A Chinese journalist stood up in front of us to take photos of every race. I tried to tell him to sit in the photographers section, but he did not speak Oklahoma and I had forgotten the Mandarin I learned four years ago.
I had vowed to leave early, before the iconic 100, because I have a 5:30 a.m. wake-up call tomorrow, to get started on my traditional walk from the hotel to the Main Press Center. But we decided to stay, and it was wise.
The public address announcer said two million people applied to purchase tickets for tonights session. So Nicki and I and 80,000 others were very lucky to be there. You saw the outcome, so I wont give a replay.
But I really was happy that so many people wanted to attend the steeplechase finals.
Dinner: Meat and cheese pastie (pronounced PASS-tee) at the Olympic Stadium. Oh, golly, it was cood.
Got a little lecture from a Dutch man today. Holland is two provinces in the western section of The Netherlands. The country is The Netherlands. People used to call it Holland, but thats incorrect. So, there you go.
These people are SO friendly
What a privilege to be here! Every day is an adventure. Inspire a generation. And mind the gap.
(Please excuse the typos. Will hurry. Theres much Olympics to explore.)
Breakfast: Mixed fruit, the awesome crunchy bacon (ACB) is back!, great link sausage, scrambled eggs, canaloni beans (pork n to us rednecks), wheat toast with currant jelly, orange juice, yogurt.
About two minutes after the awesome hour for the Brits Saturday night on the track, a friend e-mailed, now I know what its like to be an American.
Commute: Strangely, the 8 a.m. red double-decker bus turned left instead of the usual right leaving Russell Square, sending the journalistsand meinfo a semi-frenzy. Those of who had been paying attention for the last 10 days thought we were on the wrong bus. I had my own doubts until I remembered that the womens marathon is today and the course snakes along Victoria Embankment, so our regular street was closed. It was great because we got to see a different part of town. Nicki got our familys sighting of the Tower Bridge last night.
Volunteer du jour: Mark, working security outside the velodrome. Dancing to the Beatles and smiling as the sunshine reflected off his beautiful shaved black head. Did he sign up as a volunteer to he could tell people they can go where they think they can go? Its not what I imagined. But it is what it is. I am quite grateful for the opportunity.
British headline that you wont see in an American newspaper: Velodrome crowd revel (sic) in Britains cycling hegemony.
Lunch: Half a burrito. Peanut butter crackers. Cookies.
Todays confirmation that George Bernard Shaw was right when he wrote that we and the British are two peoples separated by a common language. We havent talked about spelling, but there are many differences. I like pyjamas best. But organisation is close.
Speaking of Shaw, I hope to hear some excited British fan at the track meet say, Come on, Dover, move yer bloomin' arse! But, well, this isnt Ascot.
Linda Grant, heretofore an anti-Olympics columnist in The Independent is beginning to see the light, calling the Games .an extraordinary, democratic spectacle of passionate enthusiasts, mostly amateur, who will return home to day jobs.
And, what has happened to London is that, in the space of a few days, it has become filled with hordes of individuals and families who are happy. The last time so many people were enjoying themselves as much in London must have been VE Day.
That says it all.
Took the red Olympic Park double-decker bus to track cycling this afternoon. The beautiful venue was electric. The event was individual pursuit, the sport where nobody wants to be in the leadthe one where the guys almost come to a stop trying to be in second place until the last frenetic lap. Second place is best because of the element of surprise. I think I saw 10 races and the person who was in the lead entering the last lap one just one of them.
The building had an air-lock entrance, I guess to keep wind from getting inside and interfering with the athletes. The infield is a maze of little corrals, where the riders warm up on stationary bikes slight more upscale than the one in Steve Horstmans guest bedroom.
Weather: Sunny early, then a shower, then more sun. High 70, low 59. Folks have given up on warm weather, and are just happy with drywhich happens for part of every day. The clouds are lovely cumulus, then a shower blows through, and then the sun returns and the cycle repeats itself
On my goodness: a reporter asked Ryan Lochte if he pees in the pool. Whats next?
Nicki and I rode the red double-decker Olympic Park bus to the Olympic Stadium. I went to see the steeplechase finals and was happy that so many thousands of others had also become steeplechase fans. Nicki tried to tell me that all those other people were there for the mens 100-meter finals, but I refuse to believe it.
We also got to see my favorite event: the 400 hurdles. This was only the heats, so we got five 400-hurdles races. It was Heaven. Or Iowa. They we had the good fortune to watch Oscar Pistorius in the 400-meter semifinals. I think he finished last in his heat, but was an honor to watch him run. He is truly an inspiration.
Seriously, of course, the mens 100 meters is the most beloved Olympic event, and it showed because everybody and his grandmother showed up in the press section which quickly filled to overflowing. A Chinese journalist stood up in front of us to take photos of every race. I tried to tell him to sit in the photographers section, but he did not speak Oklahoma and I had forgotten the Mandarin I learned four years ago.
I had vowed to leave early, before the iconic 100, because I have a 5:30 a.m. wake-up call tomorrow, to get started on my traditional walk from the hotel to the Main Press Center. But we decided to stay, and it was wise.
The public address announcer said two million people applied to purchase tickets for tonights session. So Nicki and I and 80,000 others were very lucky to be there. You saw the outcome, so I wont give a replay.
But I really was happy that so many people wanted to attend the steeplechase finals.
Dinner: Meat and cheese pastie (pronounced PASS-tee) at the Olympic Stadium. Oh, golly, it was cood.
Got a little lecture from a Dutch man today. Holland is two provinces in the western section of The Netherlands. The country is The Netherlands. People used to call it Holland, but thats incorrect. So, there you go.
These people are SO friendly
What a privilege to be here! Every day is an adventure. Inspire a generation. And mind the gap.
